initial commit of ebook 12229HEADmain

19 files changed, 91408 insertions, 0 deletions

diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/12229-0.txt b/12229-0.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7637f17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-0.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,19400 @@
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+
+THE STORY OF A SPY
+
+IN
+
+THE CIVIL WAR
+
+
+BY
+
+B.K. BENSON
+
+
+1900
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+I. THE ADVANCE.
+II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.
+III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.
+IV. A PERSONAGE.
+V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.
+VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.
+VII. A SECOND DISASTER.
+VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.
+IX. KILLING TIME.
+X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.
+XI. FORT WILLIS.
+XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.
+XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.
+XIV. OUT OF SORTS.
+XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.
+XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.
+XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.
+XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.
+XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.
+XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.
+XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.
+XXII. COMPANY H.
+XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.
+XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.
+XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.
+XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.
+XXIX. FOREBODINGS.
+XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.
+XXXI. GLOOM.
+XXXII. NIGHT.
+XXXIII. HELL.
+XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.
+XXXV. AWAKENINGS.
+XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.
+XXXVII. A DOUBLE.
+XXXVIII. IDENTITY.
+XXXIX. REPARATION.
+XL. CONCLUSION.
+
+
+MAPS
+
+ 1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS MUSKET.
+ 2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.
+ 3. VIRGINIA.
+ 4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN MUSKET.
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+     "I'll note you in my book of memory."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I say
+malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition had never
+been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my father's
+opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five years old, to
+lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory entirely, but my ability
+to recall the events and the mental impressions of a recent period. The
+physicians had agreed that the trouble would pass away, but it had been
+repeated more than once. At the age of ten, when occurred the first
+attack which I remember, I was at school in my native New England
+village. One very cold day I was running home after school, when my foot
+slipped on a frozen pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great
+pain, and was almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I
+saw around me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast
+table to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too
+heavy, with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly
+changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took me
+home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions which I
+could not understand.
+
+Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He
+inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher, about
+the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me, and I
+answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an interval of
+more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried to learn whether
+there remained in my mind any effect of my studies during the past
+term. The result was surprising. He found that as to actual knowledge my
+mind retained the power developed by its exercise,--without, however,
+holding all details of fact,--but that, in everything not positive, my
+experience seemed to have been utterly lost. I knew my multiplication
+table thoroughly; I had acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I
+could write correctly, and my ability to read was not lessened. But when
+questions concerning historical events, either general or local, were
+asked, my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned
+for the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on
+the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and against
+the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on the previous
+day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy boy.
+
+Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last period
+of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images, while the time
+preceding that period was as nothing to me. My little sister had died
+when I was six years old; I did not know that she had ever lived; her
+name, even, was strange to me.
+
+After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my own
+opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was not,
+however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the doctors'
+deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to take me to the
+South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the fact that my father
+had landed interests in South Carolina. At any rate, my father soon took
+me to Charleston, where I was again put to school. Doubtless I was thus
+relieved of much annoyance, as my new schoolmates received me without
+showing the curiosity which would have irritated me in my own village.
+
+More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned to me.
+The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a group of boys
+were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto regiment had
+distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say, "Yes, your Uncle
+Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best in the army." I felt a
+glow of pride at this praise of my people--as I supposed it to be. More
+talk followed, however, in which it became clear that the boys were not
+speaking of Franklin Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was
+greatly puzzled.
+
+A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M. Butler,
+the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had fallen on the
+field of Churubusco.
+
+Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been disturbed
+by this event, but I know that from this time I began to collect,
+vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life; so that, when
+my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had entirely recovered
+my lost memory. I even knew everything that had happened in the recent
+interval, so that my consciousness held an uninterrupted chain of all
+past events of importance. And now I realized with wonder one of the
+marvellous compensations of nature. My brain reproduced form, size,
+colour--any quality of a material thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly
+that the actual object seemed present to my senses, while I could feel
+dimly, what I now know more thoroughly, that my memory during the
+interval had operated weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so
+called--questions of doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which
+there might well be more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind.
+Although I have truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind
+began its recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first
+step was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some
+difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto
+regiment acquired the greater glory.
+
+My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my summers
+were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became dissatisfied
+with my progress, and decided that I should return to the South for the
+winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no recurrence of my mental
+peculiarity he would thereafter put me in the hands of a private tutor
+who should prepare me for college.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health was
+sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and gained a
+reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert especially in
+climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were, nevertheless,
+considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that the anxiety shown
+by my father for my health influenced me somewhat; moreover, I had a
+natural bent toward bodily rather than mental exercise.
+
+The feature most attractive to me in school work was the debating class.
+As a sort of _ex-officio_ president of this club, was one of our tutors,
+whom none of the boys seemed greatly to like. He was called Professor
+Khayme--pronounced Ki-me. Sometimes the principal addressed him as
+Doctor. He certainly was a very learned and intelligent man; for
+although the boys had him in dislike, there were yet many evidences of
+the respect he commanded from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed,
+at various times, of different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty
+and fifty. He was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall,
+and was exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his
+countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed always
+complete self-control, if not indifference. He was dark--almost as dark
+as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the breadth and height of his
+forehead were almost a deformity. He had no beard, and yet I feel sure
+that he never used a razor. I rarely saw him off duty without a peculiar
+black pipe in his mouth, which he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the
+smoke at very long intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent
+schoolmates that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through
+his skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated
+the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.
+
+Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to which were
+admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my dying day I shall
+remember one of these occasions. The debate, so celebrated, between the
+great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster was the feature of the
+entertainment. Behind the curtain sat Professor Khayme, prompter and
+general manager. A boy with mighty lungs and violent gesticulation
+recited an abridgment of Hayne's speech, beginning:--
+
+     "If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and I say
+     it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison
+     with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and
+     uncalculating devotion to the Union, that State is South
+     Carolina."
+
+Great applause followed. These were times of sectional compromise. I
+also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting influence of
+Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for harmony between the
+sections. The majority of thinking people considered true patriotism to
+concist in patience and charity each to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's
+"Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but few Southerners had read it or
+would read it. I also applauded.
+
+Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced that the
+next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to Hayne,' to be
+recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master Jones Berwick."
+
+I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me that I
+was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt an
+impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the boys all
+over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped loudly. Then the
+professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and his voice was by far
+his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master Berwick had not been
+originally selected to recite, but that the young orator chosen the duty
+had been called away unexpectedly, and that it was well known that
+Master Berwick, being a compatriot of the great Webster, and being not
+only thoroughly competent to declaim the abridged form of the speech in
+question, but also in politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator,
+could serve with facility in the stead of the absentee, and would
+certainly sustain the reputation of the club.
+
+How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I know not
+what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech recited, but not
+recently, and I could not see my way through.
+
+I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said to me, in
+a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I pledge you my word
+as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to this light." Then he
+seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few soft finger-touches, and I
+remembered no more until I found myself on the rostrum listening to a
+perfect din of applause that covered the close of my speech. If there
+were any fire-eaters in the audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an
+knew how to be polite, even to a fault.
+
+I could not understand my success: I had vague inward inclination that
+it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have departed for the time.
+I felt that some wonderful change had been wrought in me, and, youngster
+though I was, I was amazed to think what might be the possibilities
+of the mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor Khayme, but as
+he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as oratory, it was
+impossible that we should not meet. In class he was reserved and
+confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone or look varying
+his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though his outward gravity
+and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that he influenced me by a
+power which no other man exerted over me.
+
+One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just crossed
+Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder, and, turning, I
+saw Doctor Khayme.
+
+"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.
+
+He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have from your
+father a letter in relation to your health. He says that he is uneasy
+about you."
+
+"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason to be
+worried."
+
+"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the Doctor.
+
+Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I am
+glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do _you_ think I am wrong
+in health?"
+
+"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for you to see
+the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany me to my lodging,
+I will show it to you."
+
+Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of the side
+streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines clambered over the
+porch and were trained so that they almost hid the windows. An old
+woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and everything that a general
+servant may be, opened to his knock.
+
+"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to my
+thought.
+
+I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The windows
+looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front of the grate,
+where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For the rest, there
+was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old bookcase in a corner
+seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes in antique covers, A
+writing-table, littered and piled with papers, was in the middle of the
+room, and there were a few easy-chairs, into one of which the Doctor
+motioned me.
+
+Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took
+down a pipe with a long stem, and began to stuff the bowl with
+tobacco which I saw was very black; while he was doing so, I recognized
+on the pipe the carven image of an idol.
+
+"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."
+
+I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he meant.
+
+He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and handed
+it to me. I read:--
+
+     "MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to you. My
+     son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great
+     uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above
+     the average--you will have already discovered this; but I
+     wish to say that his mind has passed through strange
+     experiences and that possibly he must--though God forbid--go
+     through more of such. A friend of mine has convinced me that
+     you can help my boy.
+
+     Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."
+
+When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was strange,
+especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor and offered the
+letter to him.
+
+"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."
+
+I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat with the
+amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes were turned
+from me.
+
+He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning toward me,
+and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said very slowly, "I do
+not think it advisable to ask you to tell me what the mental experiences
+are to which your father alludes; it may be best that you should not
+speak of them; it may be best that you should not think of them. I am
+sure that I can help you; I am sure that your telling me your history
+could not cause me to help you more."
+
+I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and sweet. I
+could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed fixed on me,
+but I felt that he was looking through me at something beyond.
+
+Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your will. I can
+help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have great will-power
+also, but you have not cultivated that power. This is a critical time in
+your life. You are becoming a man. You must use your will. I can help
+you by making you see that you _can_ use your will, and that the will is
+very powerful--that _your_ will is very powerful. He who has confidence
+in his own will-power will exert it. I can help you to have confidence.
+But I cannot exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I
+shall give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little
+your present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
+doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and against
+to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty in choosing
+for or against. You are just in that condition. You have feared and
+mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are leaving you, and
+curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not bid you to make an
+effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to determine now whether you
+will struggle against weakness or submit to it; whether you will begin
+to use your sleeping will-power or else continue to accept what comes."
+
+I rose to my feet at once.
+
+"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first smile I had
+ever seen on his face.
+
+"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually learned more
+and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter told me much, that
+I could never have guessed. She was a very serious child, perhaps of
+eleven years, and not very attractive. In fact, she was ugly, but her
+gravity seemed somehow to suit her so well that I could by no means
+dislike her. Her father was very fond of her; of an evening the three
+of us would sit in the west room; the Doctor would smoke and read; I
+would read some special matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my
+tutor; Lydia would sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and
+absorbed seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some
+words which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the
+seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the
+natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way. I was
+not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of the
+household, and never thought of asking for information that seemed
+withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when the Doctor
+would be absent from the room, that they were foreigners,--a fact which.
+I had already taken for granted,--but I was never made to know the land
+of their birth. It was certain that Dr. Khayme could speak German and
+French, and I could frequently see him reading in books printed in
+characters unknown to me. Several times I have happened to come
+unexpectedly into the presence of the father and daughter when they were
+conversing in a tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor
+had no companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from
+the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at the
+cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from remarks
+dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she had, that her
+studies were the languages in the main, and I had strong evidence that,
+young as she was, her proficiency in French and German far exceeded my
+own acquirements.
+
+By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in what we
+would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for the experience
+I am now writing down embraces the winters of five or six years. Most of
+the books that composed his library were abstruse treatises on
+metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I believe that in his collection
+could have been found the Bible of every religious faith. Sometimes he
+would read aloud a passage in the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a
+manuscript copy interleaved with annotations in his own delicate
+handwriting.
+
+He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested in the
+political condition of every civilized nation. The future of the human
+race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much thought. I have
+heard him more than once declare, with emphasis, that the outlook for
+the advancement of America was not auspicious. In regard to the
+sectional discord in the United States, he showed a strange unconcern. I
+knew that he believed it a matter of indifference whether secession, of
+which we were beginning again to hear some mutterings, was a
+constitutional right; but on the question of slavery his interest was
+intense. He believed that slavery could not endure, let secession be
+attempted or abandoned, let secession fail or succeed.
+
+In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had
+interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the
+intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much reason
+to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my father
+about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long time, in fact,
+the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when it did come I
+decided that, since my father had not mentioned the matter, it was not
+for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.
+
+My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my life in the
+South had given way to his fears, and that I was to continue to spend my
+winters in Charleston. In after years I learned that Dr. Khayme had not
+thought my condition exempt from danger.
+
+So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57, without
+recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my father and the
+physicians agreed that my migrations should cease, and I entered
+college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I expressed great regret
+on account of our separation, but I received no reply.
+
+On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly, even
+without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered lapse of
+memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable exactness, all the
+time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr. Khayme.
+
+Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was induced
+to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that had happened
+since the last day I spent there, and he was, moreover, very anxious to
+meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our arrival in Charleston, however, that
+the Doctor and his daughter had sailed for Liverpool early in September.
+My father and I travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my
+memory was completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts,
+leaving me in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until
+August, 1860.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on Sumter,
+was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire to enter the
+army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he doubted the effect of
+military life upon my mental nature. Our family physician, however, was
+upon my side, and contended, with what good reason I did not know, that
+the active life of war would be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so
+my father ceased to oppose, and I enlisted.
+
+
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+I
+
+THE ADVANCE
+
+     "Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare.
+
+In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July
+16, 1861.
+
+The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."
+
+I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
+understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
+orders, except two things:--
+
+First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.
+
+Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun burnt our
+faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down hill, up hill and
+down hill, we marched for an hour, west and southwest.
+
+We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens. The
+city could no longer he seen.
+
+Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired sergeant--a
+favourite with the men.
+
+I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.
+
+"Miles's division," says Willis.
+
+"What is on our left?"
+
+"Nothing," says Willis.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"We are the left," says Willis.
+
+The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible views.
+
+The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short sword
+saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the colonel at the
+head of the regiment. The captain returned to his post:--
+
+"_Comp-a-ny_--B ... ATTENTION!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"LOAD!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"_R-i-i-i-i-ght_ ... FACE!" ...
+
+"_Fah_--_w-u-u-u-d_ ... MOTCH!" ...
+
+"_Fi--lef_ ... MOTCH!"
+
+Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.
+
+The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.
+
+Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I could see
+some black spots in a stubble-field.
+
+"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.
+
+"Any rebels out that way?"
+
+"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.
+
+Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few miles
+had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from four to four;
+great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by our columns advancing
+on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the sun directly in our faces.
+This little peaked infantry cap is a damnable outrage. The straps across
+my shoulders seemed to cut my flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My
+canteen was soon dry. The men were no longer erect as on dress parade.
+Each one bent over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no
+heavy cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was
+using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the sergeants.
+My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.
+
+Another halt; a new detail for water.
+
+The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the darkness. A
+hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a mile and a halt of
+half an hour; an exasperating march. At two o'clock in the morning we
+were permitted to break ranks. I was too tired to sleep. Where we were I
+knew not, and I know not--somewhere in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis,
+who was near me, lying on his blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow,
+said that we were the left of McDowell's army; that the centre and right
+extended for miles; that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax
+Court-House at this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he
+would wake up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before the light we were aroused by the reveillé.
+
+The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for many
+hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward to relieve
+the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred yards of a
+feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost parallel with our
+skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but trees. Beyond the
+stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men of the company were in
+position, but at ease. The division was half a mile in our rear.
+
+I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the
+blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to think of
+my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few yards away; he
+was in the act of lighting his pipe.
+
+"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.
+
+"What's what?" I asked.
+
+"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"
+
+At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a low
+rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again the
+distant cannon was heard.
+
+About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from Washington were
+in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war correspondent had
+outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the campaign. Basing his
+prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he knew something of the
+nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the public was informed that
+Heintzelman's division would swing far to the left until the rear of
+Beauregard's right flank was reached; at the same time Miles and Hunter
+would seize Fairfax Court-House, and threaten the enemy's centre and
+left, and would seriously attack when Heintzelman should give the
+signal. Thus, rolled up from the right, and engaged everywhere else, the
+enemy's defeat was inevitable.
+
+The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a little
+when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was beginning to be
+afraid that his plans were endangered.
+
+"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax Court-House,"
+said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means that our troops have
+been delayed. Beauregard is awake."
+
+Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was my
+first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We readied a
+spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be seen. He was
+facing us, instead of his front. The poor fellow--Johnson, of our
+company--had, been on post for two mortal hours, and was more concerned
+about the relief in his rear than about the enemy that might not be in
+his front. The sergeant halted within a few paces of the vedette, while
+I received instructions. I was to ascertain from the sentinel any
+peculiarity of his post and the general condition, existing in his
+front, and then, dismiss him to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could
+tell me nothing. He had seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and
+I was alone.
+
+The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to enable one
+to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was invisible. Night
+was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A thousand insects were
+cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed concert welcomed the twilight.
+A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the tree above me. Far away--to
+right or left, I know not--a cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The
+wind died away.
+
+I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.
+
+I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the first time
+the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but natural to be
+nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided that I was not
+nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in the swamp sounded
+but familiar and appropriate.
+
+That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was certain
+unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of wars and
+battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I wondered whether
+the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew they would fight; I had
+lived among those misguided people.
+
+
+
+II
+
+A SHAMEFUL DAY
+
+     'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs betimes."--Shakespeare.
+
+"_Fall in, men! Fall in Company D_!"
+
+It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.
+
+We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a constant
+state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed reconnaissance on
+Bull Run had brought more than our generals had counted on; we had heard
+the combat, but had taken no part in it. Now the attack by the left had
+been abandoned.
+
+The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying to get
+rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations in our
+haversacks.
+
+At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road for
+Centreville.
+
+Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody took the
+trouble to assent or deny.
+
+At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay down--in the
+road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet and moved about
+impatiently.
+
+An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and we must
+wait till the way was clear.
+
+Little noise was made by the column marching on the road intersecting
+ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in general the men were
+silent, going forward with rapid strides, or standing stock still when
+brought to an abrupt halt whenever the head of the column struck
+an obstacle.
+
+I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was
+nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two hours high.
+
+Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the dust. In
+ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no command, except
+the everlasting "Close up! close up!"
+
+Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a neighbourhood road;
+... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so much dust now, but the sun
+getting hotter and hotter, and hotter and hotter getting our thirst.
+
+And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!
+
+Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear it? The
+cannon roar in the valley below us.
+
+Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
+ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at double-quick;
+the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our front.
+
+What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and fire.
+
+See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red blood
+streams from his head!
+
+What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the hill. Why
+should they die?
+
+Ah, me! ah, me!
+
+The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander rides to
+its front:
+
+"_Colour_--_bearer_--_twelve_--_paces_--_to the front_--MARCH!
+_Bat-tal-ion_--_pre-sent_--ARMS!"
+
+Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and cries,
+DIES BY IT!
+
+A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces are
+white as death.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--_fix_--BAYONETS!
+
+"_For-ward_--_guide centre_--MARCH!"
+
+Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt and
+re-form.
+
+We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly with a
+dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique is a battery;
+... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and the horses and the
+men; they load and fire, load and fire.
+
+A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls ...
+rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.
+
+Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air? Thop!
+Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his height
+is lost.
+
+And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the battery
+has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long line of men
+come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns. The men of the
+battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the captured pieces.
+
+Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise and
+look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no music, no drum
+... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel behind the centre,
+dismounted,--the men march on; quick time, right-shoulder-shift; the
+fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the regiment always marching on.
+The rebels at the battery are not in line; some try to drag away the
+guns; swords flash in the hot sun; ... the rebels re-form; ... they lie
+down; ... and now the regiment is at double-quick with trailed arms; ...
+the rebel line rises and delivers its fire.
+
+The smoke swallows everything.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold the
+battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing rebels; and
+now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the regiment in
+disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and rushes for the
+battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give way ... they
+run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ... and the cavalry ride
+from, the woods, and ride straight through our flying men and strike ...
+and many of the fugitives fire upon the horsemen, who in turn flee for
+their lives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is smoke.
+Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows; crowds of
+wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ... the men madly
+lash the horses.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--ATTENTION!"
+
+Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.
+
+"_For-ward_--MARCH!"
+
+The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ... but we are
+moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks are thinning;
+elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a horrid impatience
+seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons ... faster, faster ...
+I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my face--"_Surrender, you
+damned Yankee!_"
+
+
+
+III
+
+I BREAK MY MUSKET
+
+     "And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly mob ...
+I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.
+
+The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men had run
+beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each one for
+himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and brigades were
+intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to pursue us, many
+thousands of our men would have fallen into their hands.
+
+In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
+exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop and
+rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing in our
+rear had ceased.
+
+A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where is the
+company?"
+
+"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as quick as
+you can."
+
+"Tell me who is hurt," said I.
+
+But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to remain where
+I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as to my will, and by
+great effort resolved to rise and run.
+
+At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I heard my
+name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his hand, and heard
+him call me again. I went toward him. It was Willis; he was limping;
+his hat was gone; everything was gone; in fact, he was hardly able
+to march.
+
+"Where are you hit?" I asked.
+
+"The knee," he replied.
+
+"Bad?"
+
+"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain me as it
+did awhile ago."
+
+"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.
+
+"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for men worse
+off than I am."
+
+Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some order, but
+the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken it into their
+heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us were packed
+between the high banks of the roadway which went down toward the creek.
+I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing since five o'clock in
+the morning.
+
+"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let the
+crowd scatter before we go on."
+
+"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow a
+mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any water in
+your canteen?"
+
+"Not a drop," said I.
+
+Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the troops at
+this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the hill, where the
+road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater space; some of them
+followed their leaders straight ahead on the road; others went to the
+right and left, seeking to avoid the crowd.
+
+"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."
+
+"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"
+
+"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and I can
+stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."
+
+"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."
+
+He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely too,
+although, at every step he groaned with pain.
+
+I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just a
+little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will was
+good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He was a
+strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a bullock.
+So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to a wounded
+comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him, especially since
+he showed such determination to save himself. Besides, I knew that he
+was quick-witted and country-bred; and I had great hope that he would
+prove more of a help than a hindrance.
+
+We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now running up
+the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow, but the banks were
+high, and in most places steep. Men were crossing at almost all points.
+Slowly following the hurrying groups of twos and threes who had
+outstripped us, we found at length, a place that seemed fordable for
+Willis. It was where a small branch emptied into the creek; and by
+getting into the branch, above its mouth, and following its course, we
+should be able to cross the creek.
+
+"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have muddied the
+branch; it's as bad as the creek."
+
+"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.
+
+"No," said he; "it would make us sick."
+
+"But what else can we do?"
+
+"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.
+
+All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
+shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I hoped
+that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good than
+harm--that time would be saved, in effect.
+
+A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the water clear.
+I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it, and food. Willis
+lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled my canteen; I handed
+it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and drank.
+
+The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we might have
+remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant poplar had been
+uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall an opening in, the
+undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, and the boughs,
+intermingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at our
+backs and completely screened from view.
+
+Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the canteen again,
+and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much swollen; just under
+the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this I washed away, using all
+the gentle care at my command, but giving him, nevertheless, great pain.
+A small round hole was now sean, and by gently pressing on its walls, I
+thought I detected the presence of the ball.
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more than half
+an inch, deep."
+
+"Then pull it out," said Willis,
+
+That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on his back,
+eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my mouth with
+hardtack and pork.
+
+I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an obstacle
+was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so small that I
+conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, the rebels using,
+as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded with buck-and-ball
+cartridges.
+
+"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; suppose I
+get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for you? Maybe
+you'd lose too much blood."
+
+"I want it out," said Willis.
+
+"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no good.
+Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my business is to
+let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."
+
+"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."
+
+The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.
+
+"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything of that
+kind."
+
+"You refuse?"
+
+"I positively refuse," said I.
+
+We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low rumbling
+was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon train.
+
+Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and kneaded
+some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my shirt, and tore
+it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened out, I applied a
+handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I wrapped the cloths
+around the knee, at every fold smearing the bandage with clay. I hardly
+knew why I did this, unless with the purpose of keeping the knee-joint
+from bending; when the clay should become dry and hard the joint would
+be incased in a stiff setting which I hoped would serve for splints.
+Willis approved the treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains,
+and might be good for wounds.
+
+I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could hardly
+move.
+
+"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."
+
+He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft earth;
+after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better without it."
+Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his weight.
+
+I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the stock of
+which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters J.B. I broke
+the stock with one blow of the barrel against the poplar log.
+
+I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our way
+through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our knees and
+seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the further bank was
+achieved, but with great difficulty.
+
+[Illustration: BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861]
+
+We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling. We saw
+no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much and painful
+toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day showed us a small
+field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his blanched face showing
+his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.
+
+It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more, and I
+decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the field I had
+seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them. At the bottom of
+the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The work took but a minute.
+Willis was looking on dully; he was on the bare ground, utterly done for
+with pain and weariness. At length, he asked, "What's that for?"
+
+"For you," I replied.
+
+He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at the same
+time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and pulled the
+overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually to conceal him
+from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and haversack and
+placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my throat, I bade
+him good-by.
+
+"Jones," said he, "God bless you."
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to return and
+get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get help, I will
+come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow you do not see me,
+you must act for the best. It may become necessary for you to show
+yourself and surrender, in order to get your wound properly treated; all
+this country will be ransacked by the rebel cavalry before
+to-morrow night."
+
+"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road which we
+had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road a mile or
+more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick clouds gave
+warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the same circuitous
+road by which we had advanced in the morning--was not to take the
+nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the Warrenton turnpike, but
+all I knew was that it was somewhere to my right. I determined to make
+my way as rapidly as I could in that direction through the fields
+and thickets.
+
+For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake, when
+suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went cautiously
+in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.
+
+By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined against
+the sky.
+
+I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness rattling;
+still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it was a wagon, was
+toward me.
+
+I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no need
+for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private carriage;
+it certainly is not an army wagon."
+
+I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and had
+opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice which I
+had heard before, and which, stupefied me with astonishment.
+
+"Is that you, Jones?"
+
+I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my
+supposition must be impossible.
+
+A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in his
+mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt as
+though in the presence of a miracle.
+
+"I have been seeking you," he said.
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A PERSONAGE
+
+     "I cannot tell
+     What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye
+     Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think. The
+happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat of the
+Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted, despairing,
+heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded friend, still far from
+safety myself, with no physical desire remaining except the wish to lie
+down and be at rest forever, and with no moral feeling in my
+consciousness except that of shame,--which will forever rise uppermost
+in me when I think of that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by
+the man whom I held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had
+believed, was never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the
+verge of the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the débris
+of the rout, while groping, as it were, on my lone way to security
+scarcely hoped for--it was too much; I sank down on the road.
+
+How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few moments.
+
+The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said he; "you
+are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with us."
+
+Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me the flask
+of brandy."
+
+When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before him.
+
+"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must get
+Willis."
+
+"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed, from the
+direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had reached the
+field hospital. Where is Willis now?"
+
+I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were in the
+stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily alarmed on
+hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name; then, hearing no
+answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is Jones, with help!" But
+there was no response.
+
+We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get him
+awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him up
+bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the vehicle.
+
+And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back and
+slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it was six in
+the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the midst of a driving
+rain. There were two seats in the ambulance, besides a double-deck, that
+is to say, two floors for wounded to lie upon. I scrambled to the
+rear seat.
+
+We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was crowded.
+There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on horseback or in
+carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers single and in groups
+swelled the procession, some of them with their arms in slings; how they
+had achieved the long night march I cannot yet comprehend.
+
+Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open, but he was
+awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.
+
+Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded sleepily,
+although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary, looked fresh
+and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I could almost have
+believed that he had become younger than he had been when I parted with
+him in Charleston, more than three years before. He knew that I was
+observing him, for he said, without turning his face toward me, "You
+have not slept well, Jones; but you did not know when we stopped at
+Fairfax; we rested the horses there for an hour."
+
+"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully down."
+
+"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of the
+country?"
+
+"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.
+
+I did not reply at once.
+
+"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the people
+of the United States, including those of the seceded States? Do you mean
+the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes American
+civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult matters now.
+We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and then arrange for
+your comfort."
+
+"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my devouring
+curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on the
+battlefield."
+
+"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you there is
+no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately, as an agent
+of the United States Sanitary Commission."
+
+"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you felt no
+interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in Charleston in
+'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe. And then, too, how
+could you know that I was on such a part of the battlefield, and that
+Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"
+
+"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
+afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being in
+America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer all talk
+of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with Sergeant Willis,
+and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men of your regiment gave
+me that information."
+
+I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the miscellaneous file
+of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else that was now blocked on
+the bridge,
+
+At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily find the
+place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a mile from the
+spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am certain that I could
+not have found the place."
+
+"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively easy
+for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all day to
+help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason that he knows
+every nook and corner of that part of the country."
+
+After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia College
+Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before learning that
+his wound was not difficult.
+
+"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will see to
+it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take that time to
+set you right, especially as I can see that you have some traces of
+nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent your becoming ill."
+
+"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"
+
+"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody authorized
+to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own; by to-morrow all
+the routed troops will be in or near Washington; then I shall simply
+write a note, if you insist upon it, to the commanding officer of your
+company, explaining Willis's absence and your connection with his case,
+and take on myself the responsibility for your return to your command."
+
+"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
+accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"
+
+"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor; "some of
+your men will not report to their commands for a week. You will be ready
+for your company before your company is ready for you."
+
+"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all military
+requirement."
+
+He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his hand.
+
+"Well, what do you think of this?"
+
+It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company and
+regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for ten days.
+I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his kindness.
+
+"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the best of
+quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized that we have not
+yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our affairs; in fact, my
+work yesterday was rather the work of a volunteer than the work of the
+Commission. Our tents are now beyond Georgetown Heights; in a few days
+we shall move our camps, and shall increase our comfort."
+
+The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets. The
+sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and soldiers; wagons,
+guns, caissons, ambulances; companies, spick-and-span, which, had not
+yet seen service; ones, twos, threes, squads of men who had escaped from
+the disaster of the 21st, unarmed, many of them, without
+knapsacks, haggard.
+
+At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind which
+stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished fugitives.
+The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians looked their anxiety.
+A general officer rode by, surrounded by the remnant of his staff, heads
+bent down, gloomy. Women wept while serving the hungry. The unfinished
+dome of the Capitol, hardly seen through the rain, loomed ominous.
+Depression over all: ambulances full of wounded men, tossing and
+groaning; fagged-out horses, vehicles splashed with mud; policemen
+dazed, idle; newsboys crying their merchandise; readers eagerly
+reading--not to know the result to the army, but the fate of some loved
+one; stores closed; whispers; doom.
+
+I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he got out of
+the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman gave him coffee,
+which he brought to me, and made me drink. He returned to the table and
+gave back the cup. The woman looked toward the ambulance. She was a tall
+young woman, serious, dignified. She impressed me.
+
+We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were four
+wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The ambulance
+stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of the tents; he
+pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," said he; "go to sleep;
+you shall not be disturbed."
+
+"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"My mind will not let me."
+
+"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you are
+getting on."
+
+I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, pulling a
+sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.
+
+I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the First
+Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the woods. I saw the
+rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar log in a thicket;--a
+purple wound--wet clay;--a broken rifle;--stacks of straw.
+
+Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? for the
+cause? What is to defend Washington?
+
+Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would be
+anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I rose.
+
+"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so overwhelmed by
+this great calamity that I had not thought of telegraphing to my father.
+Can you get a messenger here?"
+
+"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing that you
+are safe."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to sleep; by
+the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your father."
+
+"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can sleep."
+
+"Let me feel your pulse."
+
+Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the side of
+the bed.
+
+"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse, he said
+softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder that you are
+wrought up."
+
+He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through my hair.
+
+
+
+V
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP
+
+
+     "Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
+     But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the afternoon
+of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept dreamlessly.
+
+On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I hastily tore
+it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe. Continue to do
+your duty." My heart swelled,
+
+I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under a tree,
+near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an awning, or fly,
+beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a woman was sitting in a
+chair, reading. I thought I had seen her before, and looking more
+closely I recognized the woman who had given the Doctor a cup of coffee
+on Pennsylvania Avenue.
+
+The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have rested well,"
+said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."
+
+I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that I was
+not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation of the
+young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was shame that I
+had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about her.
+
+"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with, a
+smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying out
+"Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.
+
+"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you have had
+nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked yourself while
+bandaging--"
+
+"What do you know about that?" I asked.
+
+"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As for Lydia
+and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and you must not
+expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to, my boy. I know that
+you have eaten nothing to-day."
+
+There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I did not
+wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the talks of my
+friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat merely for the purpose
+of keeping me in countenance.
+
+"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"
+
+"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is not
+four years since we saw him."
+
+These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had left her
+a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was a woman of
+fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not resemble her
+father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast of feature. Her
+dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his straight black hair; her
+eyes were not his; her stature was greater than his. Yet there were
+points of resemblance. Her manner was certainly very like the Doctor's,
+and many times a fleeting expression was identical with, the Doctor's
+habitually perfect repose.
+
+She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot remember
+anything of her dress. I only know that it was unpretentious
+and charming.
+
+Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to indicate great
+intelligence; her complexion was between dark and fair, and betokened
+health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little large perhaps. She had an
+air of seriousness--her only striking peculiarity. One might have
+charged her with masculinity, but in this respect only: she was far
+above the average woman in dignity of manner and in consciousness of
+attainment. She could talk seriously of men and things.
+
+I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could only
+manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that she had a
+great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly boy she had
+known in Charleston.
+
+She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my third
+cup of coffee.
+
+"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something about our
+life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three sentences."
+
+"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can speak
+four."
+
+"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over you very
+carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the hospital
+surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your extinction."
+
+"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"
+
+"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.
+
+"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not talkative,
+but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to sleep."
+
+The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes shone. He
+did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at Lydia. For the
+time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her father's. I ate. I
+thanked my stars for the conversation that was covering my ignoble
+performance.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of Willis?"
+
+"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it was only a
+buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."
+
+"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"
+
+"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full credit
+for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage you
+gave him."
+
+"Was it the correct practice?"
+
+"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but under the
+circumstances we must pardon you."
+
+"How long will the sergeant be down?"
+
+"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and his
+state of mind."
+
+"What's the matter with his mind?"
+
+"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western world."
+
+I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head was the
+same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the tents.
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday will
+prove to be the crisis of the war."
+
+"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South will
+win?"
+
+"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter which side
+shall win?"
+
+"Doctor, you are a strange man!"
+
+"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the point. I
+ask what difference it would make whether the North or South
+should succeed."
+
+"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably? What are
+we doing here?"
+
+"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always wrong;
+going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted policy; every
+wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."
+
+"Even when war is forced upon us?"
+
+"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make war; if one
+refuses, the other cannot make war."
+
+"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to war on
+the whole; but what was left for the North to do? Acknowledge the right
+of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the loss of all Federal
+property in the Southern States? Tamely endure without resentment the
+attack on Sumter?"
+
+"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than that you
+resist."
+
+Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without
+ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you
+good night."
+
+"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you must know
+that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to the Commission,
+and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is on duty to-night at
+the College Hospital. I think she will have her hands full."
+
+"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked, looking my
+admiration.
+
+"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can easily see
+him if you wish."
+
+"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see
+him--to-morrow, if possible."
+
+Lydia started off down the hill.
+
+"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it is but
+a short distance down there."
+
+The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was not
+new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war is
+wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent war? A
+nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I could not
+doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should now or ever see
+itself broken up, then farewell to American liberties; farewell to the
+hopes of peoples against despotism. To refuse war, to tamely allow the
+South to withdraw and set up a government of her own, would be but the
+beginning of the end; at the first grievance California, Massachusetts,
+any State, could and would become independent. No; war must come; the
+Union must be preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for
+my part, I could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war
+was forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice?
+War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down to-day, but
+Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is lost, but all is
+not lost.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to be the
+crisis of the war?"
+
+"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and will be
+well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a wholesome one.
+Your government now knows the enormous work it has to do. We shall now
+see preparation commensurate with the greatness of the work. Three
+months' volunteers are already a thing of the past. This war might have
+been avoided; all war might be avoided; but this war has not been
+avoided; America will be at war for years to come."
+
+I was silent.
+
+"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is ordered to
+report immediately in person to the war department."
+
+"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but what has
+McDowell done to deserve this?"
+
+"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general that fails
+finds it so; McClellan may find it so."
+
+"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."
+
+"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look things
+squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan will fail.
+I think, however, that there will be many failures, and much injustice
+done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily tolerated--any
+injustice that will bring success; success is demanded--not justice.
+Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and brought failure; wholesale
+murder that brings success is what is demanded by this
+superstitious people."
+
+"Why do you say superstitious?"
+
+"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it changes;
+it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has what he calls
+a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he changes his policy,
+and very frequently changes just as the cards change to suit his former
+play. You are now changing to McClellan, simply because McDowell has had
+bad luck and McClellan good luck. I do not know that McClellan's good
+luck will continue. War and cards are alike, and they are unlike."
+
+"How alike and unlike?"
+
+"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the long
+run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also destroys chance,
+and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side loses less than the
+other. In games, the result of one play cannot be foretold; in war, the
+result of one battle cannot be foretold. In games and in war the general
+result can be foretold; in the one there will be a balance and in the
+other there will be destruction. Even the winner in war is ruined
+morally, just as is the gambler."
+
+"And can you foretell the result of this war?"
+
+"Conditionally."
+
+"How conditionally?"
+
+"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her people
+become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of her nominal
+success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must suffer largely,
+just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for the crime of
+yesterday."
+
+"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."
+
+"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but certainly
+useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove salutary for
+your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to war must learn
+from misfortune."
+
+"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a change in
+generals?"
+
+"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship, and that
+is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned. The advance
+should not have been made, but he was ordered to make it. We now know
+that Beauregard's army was reënforced by Johnston's; it was impossible
+not to see that it could be so reënforced, as the Confederates had the
+interior line. The real fault in the campaign is not McDowell's. His
+plan was scientific; his battle was better planned than was his
+antagonist's; he outgeneralled Beauregard clearly, and failed only
+because of a fact that is going to be impressed frequently upon the
+Northern mind in this war; that fact is that the Southern troops do not
+know when they are beaten. McDowell defeated Beauregard, so far as those
+two are concerned; but his army failed, and he must be sacrificed; the
+North ought, however, to sacrifice the army."
+
+"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially unjust and
+narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you cannot do what you
+know to be just. You act under compulsion, having yielded your freedom.
+A losing general is sacrificed, regardless of his real merit."
+
+"Was it so in Washington's case?"
+
+"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been, defeated at
+Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed, the colonies had
+given up the struggle."
+
+"And independence would have been lost?"
+
+"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American independence."
+
+For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most of it,
+and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views of the
+immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He rose at last,
+and left me thinking of his strange personality and wondering why,
+holding such views, be should throw his energies into either side.
+
+He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He waited as
+I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said for answer, as
+if still thinking of our conversation:--
+
+"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine circumstances
+in which your peculiar powers of memory would accomplish more genuine
+good than could a thousand bayonets; good night."
+
+Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter. Then, I lay
+down, oppressed with thought.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE USES OF INFIRMITY
+
+     "There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;
+     The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;
+     What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
+     On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."
+
+    --BROWNING.
+
+The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The Doctor
+said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's house in
+Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request that I should
+come to see him.
+
+"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the Doctor, "and
+if you do not object I shall drive you down."
+
+On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of the
+capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia hills
+and was intrenching rapidly. Reënforcements were being hurried to
+Washington, and a new call for volunteers would at once be made. General
+McClellan would arrive in a few days; much was expected of his ability
+to create and discipline an army.
+
+"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr. Khayme;
+"it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have practically a
+leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure that rest will do you
+good. By the way, President Lincoln will visit the troops at Arlington
+to-day; if you like, I shall be glad to take you over."
+
+I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my desire to
+return to my post of duty as soon as possible.
+
+We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions and then
+passed into the office.
+
+Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I should be a
+prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a friend, or when it is
+in his power to do you a service."
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two. What shall
+I say to the boys for you?"
+
+"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already. The
+surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks at the
+outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"
+
+"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not seen
+their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a good many
+wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river, and I have not
+seen a man of the company except you. I am very anxious."
+
+"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it will be
+some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer man, Jones; I
+believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter who came in here
+last night?"
+
+"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"
+
+"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment I
+thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should ever
+again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to Dr. Khayme
+once more about this matter. Although he had advised me in Charleston
+never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last night, referred to
+it himself.
+
+"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for you?"
+
+"No, I think not."
+
+"You are able to write your own letters?"
+
+"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."
+
+"Well, good-by."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones. I'll be
+with the boys again before long."
+
+In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the Doctor and
+Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of her promise to
+tell me something about her life in the East.
+
+"Where shall I begin?" she asked,
+
+"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left Charleston."
+
+"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any thought of
+going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get ready for a
+long journey."
+
+"When was that?" I asked.
+
+"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation, and a good
+while after you left."
+
+"It must have been in September, then."
+
+"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."
+
+"I suppose you were very glad to go."
+
+"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so suddenly
+that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that grieved me."
+
+"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"
+
+"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."
+
+"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"
+
+"Yes; she died while we were in India."
+
+"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"
+
+"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to
+Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not more
+than an hour or two."
+
+"How long did you stay in Paris?"
+
+"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us for two
+or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for Bombay."
+
+"And so you were in India most of the time while you were abroad?"
+
+"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."
+
+"In Bombay?"
+
+"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the time."
+
+"Did you go to school?"
+
+"Yes," she said, smiling.
+
+Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the trees. I
+told him of my wish to return to my company.
+
+"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.
+
+"I think I am fit for duty," said I.
+
+"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.
+
+"Then why are you reluctant?"
+
+"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a
+narrower risk than your condition now would show."
+
+"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"
+
+"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might; the
+weather is very warm."
+
+"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard on me."
+
+"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your depression has
+gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not oppose your going."
+
+I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do you
+remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think it
+advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of them?"
+
+"Yes," he replied,
+
+"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar powers."
+
+"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of them."
+
+"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a
+recurrence of my trouble?"
+
+"I had at least suspected it."
+
+"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.
+
+"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted. Then,
+with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything is relative;
+your memory, taking it generally, is better than that of some, and
+poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your peculiar periods,
+it is in some features far stronger than the average memory, and in
+other features it is weaker; have you not known this?"
+
+"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is definite,
+if it has been formed in a lapse."
+
+"But in respect to other matters than objects?"
+
+"You mean as to thought?"
+
+"Yes--speculation."
+
+"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation, that is,
+anything not an established fact."
+
+"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article written
+to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it in one of your
+'states'?"
+
+"Not at all," said I.
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question; would you
+remember it?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a seceded
+State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth of the
+controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your 'states,' remember
+the discussion?"
+
+"No; certainly not."
+
+"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the period
+affected by your memory?"
+
+"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."
+
+"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your 'states,'
+toward unsettled questions."
+
+"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the other."
+
+"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed question?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an opinion
+upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it from new
+material, or repeated material, of thought."
+
+"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow you are
+in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw a
+conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when you have
+recovered the chain of your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"
+
+"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the fact
+that I had formerly decided the matter."
+
+"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made while in
+a lapse?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people call them,
+would still be undoubted?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you when you
+recover?"
+
+"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they were
+present."
+
+"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one period
+you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful you gain in
+intensity of fact?"
+
+"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one causes
+the gain of the other."
+
+"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your faculty is
+quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You know that the
+hearing of the blind is very acute."
+
+"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good thing."
+
+"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater value than
+sight?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one who could
+see."
+
+"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind nor deaf,
+nor am I a scout."
+
+"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value at one
+time than another."
+
+"Oh, yes; I suppose so."
+
+"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a moment that
+there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout; I have merely
+instanced a possible case in which hearing is more valuable than sight,
+and we have agreed that memory is worth, more at times than at other
+times. I should like to relieve you, moreover, of any fears that you,
+may have in regard to the continuance of your infirmity--as you insist
+on thinking it. Cases like yours always recover."
+
+"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique," said I;
+"but I thought he said it only to comfort me."
+
+"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have such
+cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer. Averroes himself
+clearly refers to such a case."
+
+"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the sound of
+his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well with,
+our people."
+
+"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your own
+prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by John on
+Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less wonderful
+than, yours."
+
+"They were miracles," said I.
+
+"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without waiting for
+me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and do happen every
+year to men's minds than this which has happened to yours; men lose
+their minds utterly for a time, and then recover their faculties
+entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men can be changed in an
+hour, by the use of a drug, into different creatures, if we are to judge
+by the record their own consciousness gives them."
+
+"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me without
+a drug and in a moment."
+
+"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic records
+which will forever relieve you of the belief that your condition is
+unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it which I hope will
+prove valuable; but as to its being the one only case of the general--"
+
+"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I
+interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell me why
+you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness of the
+condition at the same time. If the condition may prove useful, why
+change it?"
+
+"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously, "there
+are many things in nature which show their greatest worth only at the
+moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection of memory is, I
+repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in order that another
+function may be strengthened--and all for a purpose."
+
+"What is that purpose?"
+
+"I cannot tell you."
+
+"Why can you not?"
+
+"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the usefulness
+of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might say, in order
+to encourage you, that it will probably be given to you to serve your
+country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how and when, you must
+leave it to the future to show."
+
+"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my trouble?"
+
+"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my judgment,
+require that your recovery should follow the period concerning which
+your factitious memory is brightest."
+
+"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable way?" I
+said, wondering.
+
+"Wait," said he.
+
+The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on duty this
+night. She had listened gravely to what had been said. Now she looked up
+with a faint smile, which I thought meant that she was willing for me to
+talk to her and yet reluctant to be the first to speak, not knowing
+whether I had need of silence. I had begun to have a high opinion of
+Lydia's character.
+
+"And you went to school in Bombay?"
+
+"Yes, at first."
+
+I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I suppose
+my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently continued.
+
+"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know that I am a
+nurse with some training. Father was very willing for me to become a
+nurse, for he said that there would be war in America, and that nurses
+would be needed."
+
+Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick asked me
+to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I was unable to
+tell him."
+
+"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.
+
+I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the very day on
+which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not return to
+Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my affliction disturbed
+me so that I could not readily continue my part of the conversation,
+and Lydia soon retired.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report to my
+company."
+
+"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience; I shall
+see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this part of the
+country for a long time, and it will not be difficult for you to get
+leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I am thinking of
+moving our camp nearer to you."
+
+
+
+VII
+
+A SECOND DISASTER
+
+     "Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.
+     And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard, and picket
+duty and digging.
+
+The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's quarters were a
+mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent visitor at his tents.
+After Willis's return to duty, which was in November, he and I spent
+much of our spare time at the Sanitary camp. It was easy to see what
+attracted Jake. It did not seem to me that Dr. Khayme gave much thought
+to the sergeant, but Lydia gravely received his adoration silently
+offered, and so conducted herself in his presence that I was puzzled
+greatly concerning their relations. I frequently wondered why the
+sergeant did not confide in me; we had become very intimate, so that in
+everything, except his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom
+friend, so to speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.
+
+One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the Doctor's
+tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be with us. The
+Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation, however, at his
+pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I wondered if it could be
+because of Willis's absence. It seemed to me impossible that this
+dignified woman could entertain a passion for the sergeant, who, while
+of course a very manly fellow, and a thorough soldier in his way,
+surely was not on a level with Miss Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew
+and felt keenly that until my peculiar mental phases should leave me
+never to return, love and marriage were impossible--so the very truth
+was, and always had been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any
+incipient desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition
+encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own mind,
+and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated until--I
+suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern myself, I
+drew back from every obstacle which my judgment pronounced
+insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help to me in this
+development of the will, and especially in that phase or exercise of it
+called self-control; one of his common sayings was, "He who resists the
+inevitable increases evil."
+
+Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance, Dr.
+Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect to me,
+and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many times in our
+recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was the man's insight.
+The power that he exercised over me I submitted to gratefully; I felt
+that he was a man well fitted for counselling youth, and I had so many
+proofs of his good-will, even of his affection, that I trusted him fully
+in regard to myself; yet, with all this, I felt that his great
+knowledge, and especially his wonderful alertness of judgment, which
+amounted in many cases seemingly to prophetic power almost, were
+doubtful quantities in relation to the war. I believed that he was
+admitted to high council; I had frequent glimpses of
+intimations--seemingly unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand
+circumstances and projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow,
+from a look, or a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached
+the opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the
+contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety. The
+news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the heart of
+the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no distress, to
+judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it is but just to
+repeat that he showed great interest in every event directly relating to
+the existence of slavery. He commended the acts of General Butler in
+Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri, and hoped that the Southern
+leaders would impress all able-bodied slaves into some sort of service,
+so that they would become at least morally subject to the act of
+Congress, approved August 6, which declared all such persons discharged
+from previous servitude. In comparing my own attitude to the war with
+the Doctor's, I frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union,
+and I cared everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human
+slavery, while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that
+matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the Congress
+or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery without the
+consent of the party of the first part. I was in the war not on account
+of slavery, certainly, but on account of the preservation of the Union;
+Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he was in it at all--not for the
+Union, but for the abolition of slavery.
+
+On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and occasionally
+gave utterance to some thought.
+
+"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West; Grant
+advances."
+
+"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my reply.
+
+"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has the help
+of the navy."
+
+"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.
+
+"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove insufficient; if
+the North succeeds in this war, and I see no reason to doubt her success
+if she will but determine to succeed, it will be through her navy."
+
+I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat looking
+dreamily at the door of the stove.
+
+After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February is a
+spring month in the South."
+
+The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are bad."
+
+"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"
+
+"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he gets the
+help of the navy."
+
+"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"
+
+"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.
+
+I had already heard some talk of differences between our general and the
+President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac to Fortress
+Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance on Richmond by the
+Peninsular route, as it was called.
+
+"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at least," he
+added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well convinced of it that I
+shall make preparation at once to remove my camp to some good place near
+Fort Monroe."
+
+This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress. What I
+should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not know; I
+should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my friends sadly.
+
+"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him and
+looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.
+
+"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe we can
+take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your regiment."
+
+Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I wished for a
+chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw none.
+
+"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I should
+like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of absence?"
+
+"Where there is a will there is a way."
+
+"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and to
+spare."
+
+"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"
+
+"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble, unless
+things change very greatly meanwhile."
+
+I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The weather was
+mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk somewhat
+carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled and fell, and
+bruised my back.
+
+The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely cold. A
+bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow and rain and
+sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating with four hours'
+relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six o'clock, when I was
+finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I reached my quarters, I
+went to bed at once and fell into a half sleep.
+
+Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me, with his
+hand on my temples.
+
+"You have had too much of it," said he.
+
+I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great pain
+followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.
+
+The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but dreaded
+that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being occupied by
+four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my messmates except
+Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The surgeon of the
+Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.
+
+For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every day--on
+some days several times. Lydia never came.
+
+One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a litter and
+borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My father came. This
+was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They became greatly attached.
+
+My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me whenever he
+was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to simple care, in which
+Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read to me at times--but for
+short times, as the Doctor forbade my prolonged attention, I was not
+quite sure that Lydia was doing me good; I liked the sound of her voice,
+yet when she would cease reading I felt more nervous than before, and I
+could not remember what she had read. So far as I could see, there was
+no understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that I
+saw them together.
+
+One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us that he
+would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good hands," said he,
+"and my business demands my care; I shall always have you in
+remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."
+
+The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows
+and blankets.
+
+"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever since he
+received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has been my
+best friend."
+
+"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a letter,"
+said my father.
+
+"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in which
+you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor gave me the
+letter; I have it at home, somewhere."
+
+The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.
+
+Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and battles
+in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been kept from you.
+On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry, which success led ten
+days later to the surrender of Buckner's army at Fort Donelson."
+
+"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the last time
+I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked about Grant's
+coming successes!"
+
+"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the Doctor.
+
+"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he certainly
+would not fail."
+
+"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.
+
+On the day following that on which my father left us, I was sitting in a
+folding chair, trying to read for the first time since my illness began.
+
+Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my boy," said
+he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."
+
+"Go where, Doctor?"
+
+"To Fort Monroe," said he.
+
+"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"
+
+"Yes, we'll go."
+
+"What are we going there for?"
+
+"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"
+
+"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"
+
+"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General
+McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort Monroe,
+and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."
+
+"Yes, I begin to remember."
+
+"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's urgent
+arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as transportation can be
+provided for such an operation; it will take weeks yet."
+
+"And you are going to move down there?"
+
+"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to go with
+me; don't you want to go?"
+
+"Yes; that I do," said I.
+
+"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said the
+Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready for duty by
+the time your regiment comes."
+
+Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on, but she
+came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was certainly
+pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were brighter. She began
+at once to get together some loose things, although we had several days
+in which to make our preparations. I could not keep from laughing at
+her; at the same time I felt that my amusement was caused by her
+willingness to get away for a time from the army, rather than by
+anything else.
+
+"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.
+
+"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have the habit
+of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry and fluster when
+the time comes." Her face was very bright.
+
+"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said I.
+
+She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to
+severity, and she went out.
+
+That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we were to
+go; he was very blank.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched near
+Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me. I sat
+outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the help of the
+Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat unwillingly--I
+walked a little. These were happy days; I had nothing to do but to
+convalesce. The Southern climate has always helped me. I was
+recovering fast.
+
+I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we talked of
+everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to both of us,
+though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with his advanced
+thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its probable results.
+
+"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be
+preserved."
+
+I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though I had
+had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear this
+speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North, and I
+felt relieved.
+
+"Continue," I begged.
+
+"You know that I have said many times that the war is unnecessary; that
+all war is crime."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a crime and
+must be suppressed."
+
+"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."
+
+"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both these views
+are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime: these are two
+truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and say that the North
+is right and the South is right."
+
+"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince me that
+both of these statements can be true."
+
+"Well, are you ready to listen?"
+
+"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are right?
+Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are speaking of
+crime, not virtue."
+
+"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are speaking; but
+in regard to the principles upon which they seem to differ, they are
+right, and these are what I wish to speak of."
+
+"Well, I listen, Doctor."
+
+"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power than
+General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even eternal,
+purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the power is
+infinite."
+
+"I follow you."
+
+"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it purpose
+what it will not execute."
+
+"Please illustrate, Doctor."
+
+"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of making a
+world should make a comet."
+
+"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen to be in
+a fair way of becoming a world."
+
+"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or failure."
+
+"Yes; I see, or think I do."
+
+"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and slavery a
+crime. Two truths cannot clash."
+
+"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery into
+existence, and war, also?"
+
+"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules and works
+beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns them into means
+for advancing His cause."
+
+"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true. But I do
+not see how the South can be right."
+
+"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?" asked
+Lydia, suddenly.
+
+It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the beach.
+
+"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they see
+something that interests them."
+
+Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the wind
+blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us were looking
+intently through their field-glasses.
+
+"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I return."
+
+We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a glass; he
+looked, and came back to us rapidly.
+
+"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a glass," said
+he.
+
+"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.
+
+"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.
+
+"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she will."
+
+"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.
+
+"No; what do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron steamer
+which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she replied.
+
+"Iron?"
+
+"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with iron,
+so that it cannot be injured."
+
+"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships remain here?"
+
+The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a vessel
+off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia took the
+glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the _Merrimac!_ what a
+strange-looking ship!"
+
+The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the shore were
+fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed, throughout the
+prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and, to all seeming,
+emotionless.
+
+Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With the
+unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of them were
+but a very short distance from us.
+
+The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until I
+needed rest; I sat on the ground.
+
+Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three ships
+moving up toward the two which were near us.
+
+The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The design of
+the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe between.
+
+The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large roof,
+with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward Fortress Monroe.
+
+Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships near
+Newport News.
+
+The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft; the
+batteries on shore turned loose on her.
+
+Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She was used
+to wounds, but had never before seen battle.
+
+From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down some
+smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too small to
+count for much.
+
+Suddenly the _Merrimac_ fired one gun, still moving on toward our last
+ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and on, and on, and
+struck our ship with her prow, and backed.
+
+The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats kept up
+their fire.
+
+The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which was now
+endeavouring to get away. The _Merrimac_ fired upon her, gun after gun.
+
+Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to fire.
+
+The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she sank, with
+her guns firing as she went down.
+
+Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The Doctor
+observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed heavily, but
+did not speak.
+
+The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship aground; and
+white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.
+
+Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore batteries,
+and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to prevent the
+capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the great craft fired
+again and again into the surrendered vessel, and set her afire.
+
+Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also was
+aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.
+
+The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until she was
+lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning ship was a sheet
+of flame; we could see men leap from her deck; boats put off from
+the shore.
+
+"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.
+
+"I want no food," said I.
+
+"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better when you
+have eaten," he replied.
+
+Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.
+
+Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with excitement,
+gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white. I heard one say,
+"My God! what will become of the _Minnesota_ to-morrow?"
+
+The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have failed.
+
+The burning _Congress_ threw around us a light brighter than the moon;
+each of us had two shadows.
+
+We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so calm?"
+
+"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse;
+besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."
+
+"What is to prevent the _Merrimac_ from destroying our whole fleet and
+then destroying our coast?"
+
+"God!" said Dr. Khayme.
+
+Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in my life
+than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not permit me to
+go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the camps I knew that
+my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, that my experience in
+war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull Run had been but the first
+horror; here was another and possibly a worse one. The East seemed
+propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, of our side, could gain
+victories.
+
+The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense smoke crept
+along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, I knew, was being
+made to get the _Minnesota_ off; nobody could have slept that night.
+
+The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he came in
+finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and now came
+in also.
+
+"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"
+
+"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."
+
+Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.
+
+"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something to
+relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"
+
+"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the better."
+
+"Well, then, the _Merrimac_ will meet her match if she comes out
+to-morrow."
+
+"What do you mean, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the _Merrimac,_
+has arrived."
+
+Lydia left the tent.
+
+I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly. I
+started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head, and
+gently pressed me back to my pillow.
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE TWO SOUTHS
+
+     "Yet spake yon purple mountain,
+       Yet said yon ancient wood,
+     That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,
+       Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON
+
+About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to shake
+the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled dreams.
+
+I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were ranked
+against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of the
+soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in the other
+army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no soldier could say
+which flags were his. The men intermingled and fought, and, not able to
+know enemy from friend, slew friend and enemy, and slew until but two
+opponents remained; these two shook hands, and laughed, and I saw their
+faces; and the face of one was the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of
+the other I did not know.
+
+Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had dreamed
+true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were false. In my
+ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I had judged that it
+would be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true.
+So this dream passed for the time from my mind.
+
+We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. Lydia
+looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we expected a
+trial to our nerves.
+
+After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we
+went to a sand-hill near the beach.
+
+To the south of the _Minnesota_ now lay a peculiar vessel. No one had
+ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a
+big round cistern--such as are seen in the South and West--amidships,
+and a very big box or barrel on one end.
+
+The _Merrimac_ was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the
+batteries and on the dunes.
+
+The _Monitor_ remained near the _Minnesota_; the _Merrimac_ came on.
+From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the
+sound of heavy guns. The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every
+manoeuvre could be seen.
+
+The _Merrimac_ looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the
+other was quicker.
+
+They fought for hours, the _Merrimac_ slowly moving past the _Monitor_
+and firing many guns, the _Monitor_ turning quickly and seeming to fire
+but seldom. Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.
+
+At last they parted; the _Monitor_ steamed toward the shore, and the
+great _Merrimac_ headed southward and went away into the distance.
+
+Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little
+group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on
+the issue of the contest depended vast results.
+
+When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not
+tell whether our side had won, but I know that the _Merrimac_ had hauled
+off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of
+us knew. At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the
+_Merrimac_ blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my
+mind the fight had been very unequal.
+
+"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, "and now
+McClellan's army can come without fear."
+
+"Do you think," I asked, "that the _Merrimac_ is so badly done up that
+she will not try it again?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is damaged; but
+of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she could have fought
+longer with hope of victory, she would not have retired; her retreat
+means that she has renounced her best hope."
+
+The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in nearly
+two days. She was still very serious, however. She had become accustomed
+in hospital work to some of the results of battle; now she had witnessed
+war itself.
+
+After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the navy
+would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our fleet that
+would give us a final preponderance over the South.
+
+"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a stupendous
+undertaking could well be."
+
+"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times," said I.
+
+"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more
+restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend upon
+their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."
+
+"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said Lydia.
+
+"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially, thinks
+clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing about states'
+rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though, beats true on the
+slavery question; England will never recognize the South."
+
+"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?" I
+asked,
+
+"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not believe
+that, I should feel no interest in this war."
+
+"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no intention
+of interfering with slavery."
+
+"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been avoided;
+but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar institution
+of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of slavery in the
+South, England would recognize the South. England has no political love
+for the United States, and would not lament greatly the dissolution of
+the Union. The North will be compelled to extinguish slavery in order to
+prevent England from recognizing the South. The Union cannot now be
+preserved except on condition of freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I
+am willing to compromise with you; I am for saving the Union in order to
+destroy slavery, and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order
+to save the Union!
+
+"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will succeed
+unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by constitutional
+means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation; you see how one
+crime always leads to another."
+
+"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for slavery only,
+whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is fighting for
+self-government."
+
+"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is fighting for
+slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. But when we say
+'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we mean. There are two
+Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and their slaves; the other
+is the common people. There never was a greater absurdity taught than
+that which Northern writers and newspapers have spread to the effect
+that in the South there is no middle class. The middle class _is_ the
+South. This is the South that is right and wholesome and strong. The
+North may defeat the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat
+it; but never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
+which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of truth if
+not the fulness of it.
+
+"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in her
+present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also the North
+is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.
+
+"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will go
+down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, the North
+will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not do it. The
+Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and undeveloped, must
+prevail instead of the Southern idea of individual freedom; but how
+prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that war in which ideas prevail is
+not fought with force. Artillery accomplishes naught. I can fancy a
+battlefield where two great armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on
+this side and on that side are uniformed alike and their flags are
+alike, but they kill each other till none remains, and nothing is
+accomplished except destruction; yet the principle for which each fought
+remains, though all are dead."
+
+For a time I was speechless.
+
+At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and flags
+alike?"
+
+He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their cause,
+and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."
+
+"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.
+
+
+
+IX
+
+KILLING TIME
+
+     "Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent
+with her father.
+
+Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my
+old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody could say
+when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, found roomy
+locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off at Yorktown, and
+with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the country up to our
+pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the Doctor's company time would
+have been heavy on my hands.
+
+About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but no
+Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his camp
+until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that there would
+be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer to Richmond.
+
+On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was willing to
+serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh should come.
+
+"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a few days,"
+he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the troops now here
+are more than are needed, except for future work. Besides, you might do
+better. You have good eyes, and a good memory as long as it lasts; you
+might make a secret examination of the Confederate lines."
+
+"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.
+
+"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"
+
+"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."
+
+"Well, think of it," said he.
+
+"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
+exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did not
+wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I liked the
+thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning the positions
+and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my school days, and
+afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting stories with, eagerness,
+and had worshipped his Witherspoon.
+
+"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.
+
+"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
+possible."
+
+"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to send you
+off properly."
+
+When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by the
+Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But she said
+little, and I could only infer that she might be creating in her brain
+false dangers for a friend.
+
+By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything was ready
+for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober suit of gray
+clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might deceive the eye
+at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate the wearer from any
+suspicion that he was seriously offering himself as a Confederate.
+
+"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it will fit
+you well enough."
+
+It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, purposely,
+had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave me also a
+black felt hat.
+
+"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I answered.
+
+"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial things
+such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be searched nothing
+can be proved. Leave all your money in bills behind; coin will not be
+bad to take; here are a few Confederate notes for you."
+
+"Do I need a pass?"
+
+"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
+Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I
+want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass would
+betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be
+difficult to explain at headquarters."
+
+"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"
+
+"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't know when
+you will get another meal."
+
+At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and reach
+before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, which was
+believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry Island, or Mulberry
+Point; I would then watch for opportunities, and act accordingly, with
+the view of following up the rebel line, or as near to it as possible.
+
+I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon outside the
+guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due north by the
+Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was glad of it. The
+stars gave me enough light. My road was good, level, sandy--a lane
+between two rail fences almost hidden with vines and briers. At my left
+and behind me I could hear the roar of the surf.
+
+When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead, I
+stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our men, or
+rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into a fence
+corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I waited until
+they had passed out of sight, and then rose to continue my tramp, when
+suddenly, before I had made a step, another horseman rode by, following
+the others. If he had looked in my direction, he would have seen me; but
+he passed on with his head straight to the front. I supposed that this
+last man was on duty as the rear of the squad.
+
+Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The party
+of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, and that I
+should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely cautious in going
+forward, not knowing how soon I might run against some scouting party of
+the rebels.
+
+The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy and
+mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small growth.
+The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from studying the
+map before I had set out I had some idea of the general character of the
+country at my right, as well as a pretty accurate notion of the distance
+I must make before I should come near to the first rebel post; though,
+of course, I could not know that such post had not been abandoned, or
+advanced even, within the last few hours.
+
+I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and straight
+ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My senses were alert;
+I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I felt that I was alone
+and dependent upon myself, but the feeling was not greatly oppressive.
+
+Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence running at
+a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not continued to the
+left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence was the junction of
+the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly seen before I started
+that at this junction there was danger of finding a rebel outpost, or of
+falling upon a rebel scouting party, I now became still more cautious,
+moving along half bent on the edge of the road, and at last creeping on
+my hands and knees until I reached the junction.
+
+There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward Little
+Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found nothing, and
+returned to the junction; then continued up the road toward Young's
+Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited frequently by the rebels,
+and my attention became so fixed that I started at the slightest noise.
+The sand's crunching under my feet sounded like the puffing of a
+locomotive. The wind made a slight rippling with the ends of the tie on
+my hat-band, I cut the ends off, to be relieved of the distraction.
+
+I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as well as
+to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to Bethel, at my rear
+and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk into a fence corner, and
+lay perfectly still, listening with all my ears. The noise increased; it
+was clear that horsemen from the Bethel road were coming into the
+junction, a hundred yards in my rear.
+
+The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.
+
+But _had_ they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down the road
+toward Newport News.
+
+Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the hoof-beats
+of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into my fence corner
+and lay flat and still.
+
+It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when life is
+about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant all the deeds
+of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know, at least, that my
+mind had many thoughts in the situation in which I now found myself.
+
+I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were rebels.
+
+They were now but a few yards off.
+
+An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would discover me.
+
+If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen would
+ride me down at once.
+
+If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky, would be
+a mark for many carbines.
+
+If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.
+
+But what could I expect from my companion?
+
+Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had the
+rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were they
+pursuing him?
+
+But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the direction
+of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he not hidden.
+
+If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be to lie
+still.
+
+Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were rebels.
+
+But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If he was
+one of theirs, should I lie still?
+
+No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot at.
+
+If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case, my
+unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let the troops
+pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet of me.
+
+Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel, still the
+question remained whether he had seen me.
+
+It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was a log?
+Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a place;
+there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify the
+existence of a log in this place.
+
+All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while the
+horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces more, I
+had come to a decision.
+
+I had decided to lie still.
+
+There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get away. I
+would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a friend, my case
+might be better than before; if he should prove to be an enemy, I must
+act prudently and try to befool him. I must discover his intentions
+before making mine known. He, also, must be in a great quandary.
+
+The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told whether
+they were from the North or the South by their voices, but they did
+not speak.
+
+There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and, indeed, I
+did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to the ground.
+
+The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.
+
+Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my companion. I was
+right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else he would now rise and
+go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he did not speak; what was the
+matter with him?
+
+But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me, just as I
+was fearing him.
+
+But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was hiding
+from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?
+
+But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his hiding in
+a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the observation of the
+horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence corner was an accident.
+
+Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do something? He
+has no reason to fear me.
+
+But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads
+everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave him.
+
+But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot speak
+to a man who flees and hides? I _will_ speak to him--
+
+"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.
+
+I sat bolt upright; so did he.
+
+"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what is your name?"
+
+"My name Nick."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"
+
+"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."
+
+"You are hiding from the soldiers."
+
+"What sojers, mahsa?"
+
+Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not yet
+know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The night was
+cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had been warm, but
+now I was getting chilly.
+
+Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a
+supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave who
+does not wish to be free is an impossibility.
+
+"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa."
+
+"Then, why did you hide from them?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes; why did you run and hide?"
+
+"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."
+
+This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I must be
+the first to declare myself.
+
+"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say rebels,
+but thought better of it; the word would declare my sympathies. I was
+not so ready, after all.
+
+"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"
+
+Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted negro.
+
+"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."
+
+"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"
+
+Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so. I knew
+that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp servants,
+slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be trustworthy. Who
+could know, after all, that there were no exceptions amongst slaves? My
+doubts became so keen that I should not have believed Nick on his oath.
+He might tell me a lie with the purpose of leading me into a rebel
+camp. I must get rid of him somehow.
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"
+
+"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."
+
+"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a little?"
+
+I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose tobacco in
+one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not know.
+
+"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick hesitated,
+
+"A what?"
+
+"A good man," said Nick.
+
+"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."
+
+"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"
+
+"I want to see some people up there."
+
+Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him into
+the Southern lines? It looked so.
+
+The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might betray me.
+His hesitation was assuring.
+
+I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some people up the
+road."
+
+"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."
+
+"Do you think they will come back soon?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."
+
+"Didn't you come from up the road?"
+
+"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"
+
+This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it; and to
+give him as good.
+
+"Do Southern officers carry guns?"
+
+"You Southern officer, mahsa?"
+
+"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't you know
+that, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.
+
+"What is it, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."
+
+"What makes you think so, Nick?"
+
+"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on lak you
+is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back to dem
+breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or I'll have you
+strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."
+
+Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be feared. He
+was willing for me to believe that he had run away from the
+Confederates.
+
+"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are enough
+niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like to give you
+a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.
+
+"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"
+
+"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"
+
+"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"
+
+"Go up the road with me," said I.
+
+Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted to
+betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his silence
+to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say, that he
+wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I felt so sure
+of this that I should not have been surprised if he had suddenly set out
+running down the road; yet I supposed that he was still in doubt of my
+character and feared a pistol-shot from me. He was silent so long that I
+fully made up my mind that I could trust him a little.
+
+"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern officer nor
+a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to go to Fortress
+Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first; if you serve me
+well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one day, and I'll make
+it worth your while."
+
+"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me how to
+see the breastworks and not be seen myself."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"
+
+It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he think it
+out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern soldier?
+
+"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will give
+you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you another
+dollar and a chance to make more."
+
+Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the sequel
+showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally, he said
+that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I felt in my
+pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at once closed
+the bargain.
+
+"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be faithful, and
+I will give you another before dark to-morrow."
+
+"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Where is the first Confederate post?"
+
+"You mean dem Southern sojers?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine _up_ de road, or dem dat's fust
+a-comin' _down_ de road?"
+
+"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.
+
+"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.
+
+"Did you see them?"
+
+"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."
+
+"How did you keep them from seeing you?"
+
+"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."
+
+"How long ago was it since you saw them?"
+
+"Sence sundown," said Nick,
+
+"When did you leave the breastworks?"
+
+"Las' night."
+
+"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"
+
+"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might strak
+up wid 'em."
+
+"How far have you come in all?"
+
+"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber swamp all
+day."
+
+"Did you have anything to eat?"
+
+"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."
+
+"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"
+
+"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to eat?"
+
+"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."
+
+"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is almos'
+all done gone to Richmon' er summers[1] en' I don't know w'at we's
+a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do fer sum'hm
+to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer 'bacco nudda."
+
+[1] Somewhere [Ed.].
+
+"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect you to
+find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for it."
+
+We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.
+
+"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it as I
+can get without being seen."
+
+"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.
+
+"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the breastworks. First,
+I want to go to Young's Mill."
+
+"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de yudda
+one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."
+
+"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.
+
+"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep dis
+straight road."
+
+"But we must not show ourselves," said I.
+
+"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda; des'
+you follow me."
+
+Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a mile, then
+northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the road again.
+
+"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun' de fust
+ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got aroun' 'em,
+'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em agin."
+
+"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"
+
+"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.
+
+We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean death. We
+went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way at a rapid and
+long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in sight. The night was
+getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and there were dense clumps
+of small trees; at the little watercourses there was larger growth. The
+roar of the sea was heard no longer. It must have been about midnight.
+
+We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed ours.
+
+"Stop a little, Nick," said I.
+
+Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a hundred
+yards in every direction.
+
+"Where does that road go?" I asked.
+
+"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole Young's
+Mill."
+
+"How far is old Young's Mill?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+"Where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis Cheeseman's dey is
+calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry, but dey is on de yudda
+side o' de creek."
+
+"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road running
+almost west; a church stood on the other side of the road.
+
+"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to Worrick."
+
+"And where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.
+
+"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.
+
+"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off, nudda."
+
+We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick was
+telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was still
+before my mind's eye.
+
+"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I asked.
+
+"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.
+
+"How far this side?"
+
+"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"
+
+"How near can we get to the picket-line?"
+
+"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut down."
+
+"The trees cut down in their front?"
+
+"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."
+
+"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"
+
+"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun' de
+pon'."
+
+"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the
+picket-line?"
+
+"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de picket-line, en'
+de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en' all."
+
+"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your eyes wide
+open."
+
+Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he turned to
+the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and crossed a
+creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see in the darkness
+a great deal better than I could; where I should have groped my way, had
+I been alone, he went boldly enough, putting his foot down flat as
+though he could see where he was stepping. Nick said that there were no
+soldiers in these woods and swamps; they were all on the road and at
+Young's Mill, now a mile at our left.
+
+At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very tired; but,
+not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we should wait by the
+side of the road for a while, to see if any soldiers should pass. We sat
+in the bushes; soon Nick was on his back, asleep, and I was not sorry to
+see him go to sleep so quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have
+done so if he had meant to betray me.
+
+I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single horseman
+came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his sabre
+rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had died away,
+I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At last Nick stopped.
+
+"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.
+
+"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.
+
+"Again? Have we gone wrong?"
+
+"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he
+repeated.
+
+"Where are we?"
+
+"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den w'at you
+gwine to do?"
+
+"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and know how
+many they are."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine to do?"
+
+"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward
+Yorktown."
+
+"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin' out in de
+woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout noth'n' to eat."
+
+"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get an hour
+or two of sleep without freezing?"
+
+"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's w'at you
+gwine to do; come on."
+
+He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through woods, then a
+field, and came to a farmhouse,
+
+"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that house."
+
+"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to Richmon' er
+summers."
+
+The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the place.
+
+Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed up into
+the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose hay in the
+loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick promise to be awake
+before sunrise, for I feared the place would be visited by the rebels.
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE LINE OF THE WARWICK
+
+     "Thus are poor servitors,
+     While others sleep upon their quiet beds,
+     Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."
+    --Shakespeare.
+
+When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep quickly. When
+I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.
+
+I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the sky was
+reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for hours had he
+been alone.
+
+The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food? Useless to
+search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was bare. I asked Nick
+if he could manage in any way to get something to eat. He could not; we
+must starve unless accident should throw food in our way.
+
+A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a long ways
+to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood nor no water."
+
+We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we reached
+it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see dryer
+ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a tree I
+could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the west, with
+the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no movement going
+on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent. I had no
+more tobacco.
+
+I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through the
+woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their line
+crossed the road.
+
+About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of felled
+timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our left. At long
+intervals a man would pass across the road where it struck the
+picket-line.
+
+Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his
+topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line was
+behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an outpost; and
+I was considering whether it would not be best to turn this position on
+the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible, and make for Lee's
+Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient, and see what was above
+that point, when I heard galloping in the road behind us. Nick had heard
+the noise before it reached my ears.
+
+A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and remained
+a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the road toward
+Warwick Court-House.
+
+At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept up as
+near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their knapsacks and
+falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry from down the road;
+they passed through the picket-line, and were soon lost to sight. Then
+the picket marched off up the road. Ten minutes more and half a dozen
+cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of all, I was hoping--and passed on.
+
+The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention of
+getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of
+appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the abandoned
+line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we crawled
+through the felled timber.
+
+The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over the ground
+were the remains of straw beds; some brush arbours--improvised
+shelters--were standing; we found enough broken pieces of hardtack to
+relieve our most pressing want.
+
+I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended within two
+hundred yards of the road.
+
+"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this direction?"
+pointing northwest.
+
+"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said Nick.
+
+"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"
+
+"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."
+
+"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"
+
+"You mean 'long here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is some
+mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de riber, whah
+Lee's Mill is."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Hit's mos' fo' mile."
+
+"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Riber is deep down below de mill."
+
+"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.
+
+"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."
+
+"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."
+
+"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at de Pint."
+
+"Up at what Point?"
+
+"Up at de Mulberry Pint."
+
+"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"
+
+"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."
+
+Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the withdrawal
+of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main line beyond the
+Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach the river and follow
+it up--since the rebel line was on its other bank or beyond--I decided
+to let Nick go.
+
+"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more now."
+
+"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"
+
+"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will attend
+closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night, are
+you not?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for me. Will
+you do it?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the rebels catch
+you."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet some Union
+soldiers; then you will be safe."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the rebel
+camp. I gave the paper to Nick.
+
+"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the captain."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must tell him
+that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick Court-House, and that the
+paper is to let him know it."
+
+"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I won't do
+noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."
+
+"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to you."
+
+Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.
+
+My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the Warwick River
+some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits, my cautiousness
+increased, although I expected to find no enemy until I was near the
+mill. I went first as nearly westward as I could know; my purposes were
+to reach the river and roughly ascertain its width and depth; if it
+should be, as Nick had declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth
+would be sufficient protection to the rebels behind it, and I would
+waste no time in examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I
+crept, sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in
+the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either
+crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in the low
+ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left was a cleared
+field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the field a dwelling with
+outhouses. I approached the house, screening myself behind a rail fence.
+The house was deserted. I passed through the yard. There was no sign of
+any living thing, except a pig which scampered away with a loud snort of
+disapproval. The house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows
+were broken, and a mere glance showed me that the place had
+been stripped.
+
+Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the river, for I
+began to fear that I had been rash in coming through the open. Soon I
+struck the river, which here bent in a long curve across the line of my
+march. The river was wide and deep.
+
+At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be little
+need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of this
+unfordable stream.
+
+It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my rear,
+and wondered what could be going on back there.
+
+Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So long as
+I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and the country,
+even away from the river, was much wooded. My knowledge of the map
+placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and northeast I went, but for
+fully three hours I kept on and found no river again. I felt sure that I
+had leaned too far to the east, and was about to turn square to my left
+and seek the river, when I saw before me a smaller stream flowing
+westward. I did not understand. I knew that I had come a much greater
+distance than three miles; I had crossed two large roads running north;
+this stream was not down on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this
+stream was the Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small,
+as Nick had intimated.
+
+I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great angle in
+the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's Mill.
+
+Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam, seemingly
+a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not understand why
+it was there. On the other side of the water, which seemed to be deep,
+though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A road, a narrow country
+road, ran seemingly straight into the water. Only a few steps to my left
+there was an elbow of the road, I moved to this elbow, keeping in the
+bushes, and looked down on the water. There was no sign of a ferry; I
+could see the road where it left the water on the other side, and I
+could see men passing back and forth across the road some two or three
+hundred yards away.
+
+For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the meaning of
+this road's going into deep water. What could it mean? Certainly there
+was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The ordinary needs of the
+country would require a ferry, and there was no ferry. I had looked long
+and closely, and was sure there was no ferry, and was almost as sure
+that there never had been one. The road before my eyes was untravelled;
+the ruts were weeks old, without the sign of a fresh track since the
+last rains; the road was not now used, that was a certainty.
+
+When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear; the road
+had been a good road before the rebels came; when they fortified their
+lines they rendered the road useless. They destroyed the ford by
+building the dam below.
+
+I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of what at
+first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have told me
+offhand all about it.
+
+In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep water. Now,
+thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly see another dam,
+and it was not five minutes before I came in sight of the second dam.
+
+I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of earthworks
+on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed nearly
+straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was. To attack the
+Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our troops could first
+destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.
+
+By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was
+famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get any
+food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about me to see
+if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for not having
+brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain this night near
+the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing that my work was not
+yet done, until the next day; so I must expect many hours of sharp
+hunger unless I could find food.
+
+I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a continuous line
+of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to Yorktown, and all I
+cared to prove was whether that line had its angle at the former place,
+as Nick had declared, and as seemed reasonable to me from every
+consideration. I would, then, make my way carefully down the river to
+Lee's Mill, and if possible finish my work before sunset; but my hunger
+was so great that I thought it advisable to first seek food. So,
+deferring my further progress down the stream, I set out in an easterly
+direction by the road which had crossed previously above the second dam,
+in the hope that this road would lead me to some house where help could
+be found, for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my
+first need.
+
+However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road, walking
+through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another road joining
+it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn from recent use. I
+had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard a noise behind
+me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat behind a bush which
+grew by a fallen tree. Three horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward.
+They passed at a walk, and were talking, but their words could not be
+distinguished. The middle man was riding a gray horse.
+
+About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became less
+dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was what the
+Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a small farmhouse
+with, a few necessary outbuildings.
+
+Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house yard from
+the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with saddles on their
+backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant from the horses, and
+could plainly see a holster in front of one of the saddles.
+
+No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and listened. The
+evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in the west, but the
+sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be an hour or two of
+daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill must be put off till
+the morrow.
+
+A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the well in
+the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail of water. Now
+the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the stamping of heavy
+foot within the house; a moment afterward three men came out and
+approached the horses.
+
+The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his eyes with
+his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling cloud-edge barely
+hid the sun from view. He was looking directly over my head; dropping
+his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This man was nearer to me than
+the others were. I could less distinctly hear the words of the others,
+but when this one got near their horses a conversation was held with the
+woman standing in the doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.
+
+"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse, "yes, I
+reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any more."
+
+"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose words, by
+reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was talking toward
+me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.
+
+"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was astride
+his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks treat you as
+well as us, you may thank your God."
+
+"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to risk 'em
+if God sends 'em."
+
+The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions, shouted
+back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody else!"
+
+"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a parting
+shot.
+
+When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the road, I
+had but little reluctance in going into the house. The woman stared at
+me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye; evidently she did not know
+what to think of me. She said nothing, and stood her ground in the
+middle of the floor.
+
+I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in which
+there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst; then I
+said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have what cold food
+you have in the house."
+
+"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she asked.
+
+"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"
+
+"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most ev'ything I
+had, so I hain't got much."
+
+"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you can."
+
+She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone" of
+corn-bread.
+
+"This is all they is," she said.
+
+"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"
+
+"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."
+
+"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.
+
+She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down to
+Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an' you
+soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel kinder
+skittish."
+
+"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the Yankees
+are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before to-morrow,
+though--maybe not till the day after."
+
+"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but I
+reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."
+
+"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't have run
+off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of them. I don't
+suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop again."
+
+"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop tell they
+git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the mill."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,
+
+She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a mistake.
+
+"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"
+
+"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"
+
+"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."
+
+I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I had made
+another mistake.
+
+"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing her a
+one-dollar Confederate note.
+
+"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to see
+silver agin."
+
+"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.
+
+"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore eyes."
+
+"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said; "anyhow,
+you kin git to the camp on this side."
+
+"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.
+
+"Good-by, Mister," she said.
+
+I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the door; she
+raised her voice a little, and said,--
+
+"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the mill."
+
+So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but as soon
+as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right through the
+woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could eat and sleep.
+
+When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from the post
+near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all withdrawing to
+their main lines; this thought had received some corroboration from the
+firing heard in my rear later in the day; I had believed the Union
+troops advancing behind me; but afterward I had seen other rebels at the
+woman's house, and I now doubted what I had before believed. Besides, it
+was clear from the woman's words that there was a rebel post this side
+of Lee's Mill, and I was yet in danger.
+
+The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running west,
+the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept up to it,
+and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it, and into the
+woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a southwest course, and
+found a spot where I thought I could spend the night in safety. For fear
+of being detected I dug a hole, with my knife, in the earth, and piled
+the loose earth around the hole; then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at
+the bottom. Night had not yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense
+thicket surrounded by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or
+smoke would betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of
+any one who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and
+toasted my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I
+wanted water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to
+search for a spring or a stream in the woods.
+
+I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with my
+hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not cold,
+threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the wind.
+
+Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of lying in a
+mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water running through my
+whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have water at any risk.
+
+I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of my
+supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all
+likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.
+
+Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was completely
+lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and gullies, round
+and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out, until just before day I
+saw the reflection of fire through the woods, and at the same time
+almost fell into a small pool. It was the reflection of the light by the
+pool which at once showed me the water and saved me from finding it
+with a sense other than sight.
+
+I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant. Although
+it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it was some rebel
+camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I turned my back on the
+light, and walked until I could see it no more; then I stretched myself
+under a tree, but could not sleep. Day was coming.
+
+After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable time of
+it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to determine to
+move, for I did not know which way to start. I set out, however, and had
+gone a short distance, when I noticed the green moss at the root of a
+large tree, and I remembered that I had read in stories of Indians and
+hunters that such moss always grows on the north side of the trees. So I
+then turned westward, for I knew that I had crossed no road in my
+wanderings of the night, and I also knew that the main road from Warwick
+Court-House to Lee's Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a
+great tree with a sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was
+raining harder. When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat
+under the tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and
+hiding me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard
+the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of rebel
+cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could distinctly
+hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off, seemingly. The rain
+still fell and I held my place.
+
+All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union
+soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.
+
+Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an advancing
+line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.
+
+"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are _you?_"
+
+"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer, coming up,
+"I'll attend to that man."
+
+"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to the
+right!"
+
+Two men came to the lieutenant.
+
+"Who _are_ you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.
+
+"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"
+
+"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in the
+night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of their
+cavalry went by ten minutes ago."
+
+The line went on in the rain.
+
+The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them to take
+me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson. I have never
+learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good qualities.
+
+Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line did not
+seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began to understand
+that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should have run upon the
+enemy in force.
+
+I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the head of
+his brigade. He asked me my name.
+
+"Jones Berwick, General," said I.
+
+"What is your business?"
+
+"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your
+regiment?"
+
+"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least, it had
+not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before yesterday."
+
+"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near
+Washington?"
+
+"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my health,
+General."
+
+"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by lying out
+in the woods in the rain?"
+
+"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and I am
+now fully recovered."
+
+General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on day before
+yesterday?"
+
+"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General McClellan
+had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I left."
+
+"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern accent."
+
+"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner; I came
+out to observe the rebel lines."
+
+"By whose authority?"
+
+Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass, signed by
+such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some complication should
+arise which would give trouble to such an officer, for Dr. Khayme had
+not fully informed me about my privileges.
+
+"It was only a private enterprise, General."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he said.
+
+I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the Warwick
+River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it; that the fords
+had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no rebels on this side
+of the river now, in my opinion, except pickets, and possibly a force
+just in front of Lee's Mill.
+
+"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.
+
+"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the other
+side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it. Night came on
+me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I have nothing but
+hearsay in regard to that place."
+
+"What have you heard?"
+
+I told him what the woman had said.
+
+"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he asked
+sternly.
+
+"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any proof; I
+wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy you."
+
+The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on a piece
+of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who rushed off to the
+rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from the rear; he saluted
+General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him in a low tone. I could
+easily guess that he was speaking of me.
+
+Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about my
+service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was its
+colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead of my
+regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick replies.
+Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout, which I gave
+him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke of Nick, his eye
+brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he nodded his head. Then
+he asked, "What did you write?"
+
+"The word _going_," I said.
+
+"Have you a pencil?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Here, take this, and write the word _going_," he said, handing me a
+small blank-book.
+
+On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature below.
+
+Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked
+attentively at both books.
+
+Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he says.
+Better be careful of your advance."
+
+And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr. Berwick."
+
+That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.
+
+
+
+XI
+
+FORT WILLIS
+
+     "This is the sergeant,
+     Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters, I had
+been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News. The
+officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's aides.
+The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had delivered
+my message, with which my handwriting showed identity; moreover, General
+Keyes, when the matter was brought to his attention, immediately
+declared with a laugh that his friend Khayme's protégé was a "brick."
+
+The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously
+subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which,
+though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a camp-bed
+after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near me, and
+questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to term my
+escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my visit to the
+woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred on Nick.
+
+"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point of view
+in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have trusted him
+the instant I learned that he was a slave."
+
+"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the slaves
+wish to be free."
+
+"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has independence
+of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at night between two
+hostile armies, wishes to be free."
+
+"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think, that at
+the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can now."
+
+This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed, "Father,
+Mr. Berwick needs rest."
+
+"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of. Let me
+fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then he can sleep
+the sleep of the just."
+
+"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."
+
+"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that the just
+live forever."
+
+"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did live."
+
+"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said
+"slaveholders."
+
+"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels, that is,
+after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion becomes
+unnecessary."
+
+"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war, are
+necessary?"
+
+"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the Doctor;
+"rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to usurped authority
+is always right."
+
+"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked languidly.
+
+"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."
+
+"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only making him
+sleepy."
+
+Lydia retired.
+
+I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He
+continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but I
+warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for to-morrow. By
+the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your regiment is
+expected on the tenth."
+
+"Glad to hear it, Doctor."
+
+"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"
+
+"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them that I
+saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of course."
+
+"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"The map we have is incorrect."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."
+
+"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep, and it
+cannot be turned on the James River side except by the fleet."
+
+"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing nothing,
+and probably will do nothing until the _Merrimac_ is disposed of."
+
+"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"
+
+"By this and that," said the Doctor.
+
+"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.
+
+"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.
+
+"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our troops should
+have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."
+
+"Do you object?" he asked.
+
+"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I should have
+done I don't well see."
+
+"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.
+
+"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been compelled to
+wait till night to make a start."
+
+Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and faster
+than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before sleep
+overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head looked alive,
+and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and half hid the Doctor's
+face were not mere forms that would dissipate and be no more; they
+seemed living beings--servants attendant on their master's will.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote some
+letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news that
+Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a siege
+instead of a battle.
+
+"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by
+assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for reënforcements, there
+will be nothing to prevent the Confederates from being reënforced; so
+mote it be."
+
+"What! You are not impatient?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And you are willing for the enemy to be reënforced?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will end."
+
+"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he is likely
+to lose much time now."
+
+"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."
+
+"All the time there is! that means eternity."
+
+"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."
+
+"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.
+
+"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will happen
+in that time."
+
+"To McClellan?"
+
+"Why not to McClellan? To all."
+
+"Everything is a big word, Doctor."
+
+"No bigger than eternity."
+
+"And McClellan will win and will lose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that everything
+will happen."
+
+"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the conditions
+necessary to cause everything to come to pass."
+
+"The rebels will win and the North will win?"
+
+"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will happen."
+
+"You surely are a strange puzzle."
+
+"I give myself enough time, do I not?"
+
+"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."
+
+"The contradiction is only seeming."
+
+"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull Run?"
+
+"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but the
+defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by saying both
+North and South will win, you surely know; it is that the divine
+purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end and
+accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present wicked
+strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the people of
+both sections wants will come; what they want they fight for; but it
+would have come without war, as I was about to tell you last night, when
+you interrupted me by going to sleep."
+
+"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how rebellion could
+exist and not bring war."
+
+"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.
+
+"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in two
+senses," said the Doctor.
+
+"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to give
+it."
+
+"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."
+
+"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall proceed to
+punish you."
+
+"By refusing me?"
+
+"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does not
+necessarily bring war?"
+
+"That is the postulate," I replied.
+
+"Then, first, what is rebellion?"
+
+"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a definition,
+"rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or state, to the
+legalized government of the nation or state."
+
+"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see if there
+have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you say of
+Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"
+
+"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a stop to
+it."
+
+"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you say of
+Monk?"
+
+"What Monk?"
+
+"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the Second."
+
+"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a
+rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."
+
+"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"
+
+"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does not bring
+war when, the other party won't fight."
+
+"But it is wrong to fight," he said.
+
+"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.
+
+"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending is that
+every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England have been wiser
+if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies? Suppose the principle
+of peace were cherished: the ideas that would otherwise cause rebellion
+would be patiently tested; the men of new or opposite ideas would no
+longer be rebels; they would be statesmen; a rebellion would be
+accepted, tried, and defeated by a counter rebellion, both peaceable. It
+is simply leaving things to the will of the majority. Right ideas will
+win, no matter what the opposition to them. Better change the arena of
+conflict. A single champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter
+and prove his hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same
+thing on a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and
+I have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or
+rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you
+Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you
+proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of them
+are left to think fatally; but they _will_ think, and your killing them
+will not prove your ideas right."
+
+"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know that is
+what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I asked, thinking
+to touch a tender spot.
+
+"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many a
+Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea would
+have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once; but the
+idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with the South
+knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge concerning principle
+was involved, instead of massacre according to the John Brown idiocy, a
+great amelioration in the condition of the slave would have begun
+immediately. The South, would have gradually liberated the slaves."
+
+"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from perfection."
+
+"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to have
+ideals, and strive to reach them."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship Point,
+and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the next day I
+rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me coming. The good
+fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and generous. We soon
+went off for a private chat.
+
+"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he asked.
+
+"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp was
+never moved once; what have you been doing?"
+
+"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to come.
+Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"
+
+"What new drill?"
+
+"Hardee."
+
+"You don't say!"
+
+"Fact. Whole division."
+
+"Do you like it better?"
+
+"Believe I do."
+
+"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough to do of
+another sort."
+
+Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the manual of
+arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is carried in the
+right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted for Scott's, which
+provides for the shoulder on the left side. There was no actual drill,
+however, and my clumsy performance--clumsy compared with that of the
+other men of the company who had become accustomed to the change--was
+limited to but little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants
+because of my inexperience.
+
+I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not expect him
+to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of her; and I did
+not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him information concerning
+the young lady. He asked me about Dr. Khayme, however, and thus gave me
+the chance to let him know that the Doctor himself would move his
+quarters to the rear of our lines, but that his daughter would remain at
+the hospital at Newport News until the army should advance
+beyond Yorktown.
+
+And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of
+Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and
+frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost
+every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on the
+picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood the
+hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have endured much
+more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been completely upset; he
+had said that we should take Yorktown in a week and pursue the routed
+rebels into Richmond, and now we were doing but little--so far as we
+could see--to bring matters to a conclusion. The artillery of the rebels
+played on our lines; and our guns replied; the pickets, too, were
+frequently busy popping away at each other, and occasionally hitting
+their marks. Ever since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great
+quantities of lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though
+Dr. Khayme maintained that the waste became a crime when men were
+killed,--I have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words
+"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles, and
+about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than could be
+set down in a column of figures as long as the equator. From April 13 to
+May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac before Yorktown did not
+reach half of one per cent. The men learned speedily to dodge shells,
+and I remember hearing one man say that he dodged a bullet. He saw a
+black spot seemingly stationary, and knew at once that the thing was
+coming in a straight line for his eye. The story was swallowed, but I
+think nobody believed it, except the hero thereof, who was a good
+soldier, however, and ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who
+is supremely interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my
+part, it was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired
+one. I dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a
+cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under
+cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing sometimes to
+hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way," at the smoke of a
+gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no sound of a shell would
+follow, the missile having gone into the woods half a mile to our
+right or left.
+
+I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had in its
+ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant, I never saw
+him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead a picket squad
+into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the skirmish detail in
+place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and laugh, and swear, in
+everything he was simply superb. That I do not quote his cuss-words must
+not be taken as an indication, that they were commonplace. Everything he
+did he did with his might, almost violently. He was a good shot, too,
+within the range of the smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of
+them--seemed to be better armed than we were; it was said that they had
+received some cargoes of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range,
+according to the marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by
+blockade-runners. They could keep us down behind the pits while they
+would walk about as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries
+was flung at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been
+studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over the
+fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his temper
+got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one day when he
+was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit; Willis's bullet
+would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the Enfield Minié ball
+would go a-kiting over our heads and making men far to our rear look
+out. Sometimes Willis was very gloomy, and I attributed this condition
+to his passion for Lydia, though, on such a subject he never opened his
+mouth to me.
+
+One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I were both
+on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty, and Willis was
+the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been skirmishing on this
+part of the line the preceding day, but at sunset, or the hour for
+sunset if the weather had been fair, the firing had ceased as we marched
+up and relieved the old pickets. We were in the woods, the most of us,
+but just here, on the right of our own detail, there were a few
+rifle-pits in the open, the opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four
+hundred yards apart, and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at
+night--being about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always
+composed of three men for each post. We found our three men numb with,
+cold, two lying near the edge o£ the woods, in a big hole made by a
+shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard
+nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds reflected
+the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long till day. The
+two men, my companions on post, whispered together, and then proposed
+that I should take the first watch. Willis had returned to the line
+with the relieved vedettes. I had no objection to taking the first
+watch, yet I hesitated, simply because the two men had whispered. I
+fancied there was some reason for the request, and I asked bluntly why
+they had decided it was my turn without giving me a voice in the matter.
+You know it is the custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man
+volunteers for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends,
+and that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from
+various companies, they preferred lying together.
+
+This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason that in
+two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and they lay down
+in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle, for fear of some
+sudden volley from the rebels.
+
+The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the left
+oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near to a tree
+which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy pine of second
+growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with its limbs starting
+from the trunk as low as eight feet from the ground. I stood near this
+tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our nearest vedette posts, right and
+left, were a hundred yards from me--the one on the left being in the
+woods, that on the right in the open. The country called the Peninsula
+is low and flat and very swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of
+rain that had now fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a
+loblolly, to use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about
+thirty yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it
+was possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this
+ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture us;
+such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by the
+rebels, but by many other people at war.
+
+Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line about three
+hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette posts nobody knew
+where, for they used similar economy to ours in withdrawing their
+vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of which I can but barely
+mention, had opened my eyes a little to the possibility of accurate
+inferences, that is to say, his philosophy of cause and effect, or
+purpose, as he liked better to call it, had been urged upon me so
+frequently and so profoundly that I had become more observant; he had
+made me think of the relations of things. Philosophy, he had said,
+should be carried into everyday life and into the smallest matters; that
+was what made a good fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a
+good soldier, provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This
+ravine, then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented
+opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods, make
+prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there would be a
+gap through which our skirmish line might be surprised.
+
+I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood near the
+ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the darkness. It did not
+extend into the forest, for the roots of the trees there protected the
+soil from washing away. The undergrowth at my left was not very dense; I
+judged that in daylight one could see into the forest a hundred yards or
+more. At my right, the gully began and seemed to widen and deepen as it
+went, but nothing definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.
+
+My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was really
+transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more forward place but
+thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in less than a minute.
+
+The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my short
+absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I would not
+like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt that I had done
+right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically speaking, but only
+to take a proper precaution, in regard to the post itself. Then, what is
+a man's post? Merely the ground with which the soles of his feet are in
+touch? If he may move an inch, how far may he move? Yet I was glad that
+the men had not seen me move and come back, and I was glad, too, that
+they had made the proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had
+discovered danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now
+for one of these men to take my place.
+
+My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious of any
+new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do something.
+
+I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.
+
+"Who stands watch next?"
+
+"Me. But it's not time yet."
+
+"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back to the
+line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a minute."
+
+"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."
+
+"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said I.
+
+The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, "What is
+it you say I'm to tell him?"
+
+The other man also had risen.
+
+"Only that I want to see him."
+
+"Anything wrong?"
+
+"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is all."
+
+The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become alarmed,
+perhaps.
+
+When Willis came I was under the tree.
+
+"What's up, Jones?"
+
+"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."
+
+"It's a gully," says he.
+
+"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our post
+ought to be where we can see into it."
+
+"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."
+
+I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any intimation
+to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were standing near me.
+
+In two minutes Willis returned.
+
+"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where you are."
+
+We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the ravine.
+
+"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to be
+here."
+
+"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise us.
+This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."
+
+The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
+thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.
+
+"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know what that
+noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."
+
+"Let's have it."
+
+"We can get lots of fun out here."
+
+"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"
+
+"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a word to
+them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be mum now,
+old man."
+
+"Tell me what you mean."
+
+But he had already started back.
+
+It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; yet the
+weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I knew that in
+all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would prolong the duty
+of the vedettes and make another relief necessary.
+
+When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good men of
+Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on back to the
+line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."
+
+When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way back a
+short distance and into the edge of the woods.
+
+"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. We want
+to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or something to screen
+them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so beyond the gully till I
+whistle for you, or call you. The rest of us will do the work while
+you watch."
+
+The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear enough.
+One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that others seemed
+to have come up in no light marching order. Willis meant to occupy the
+ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in this advanced post, so
+near the rebels that his bullets would not fall short. It was all
+clear enough.
+
+The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing Thompson, I
+skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or forty yards to my
+right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, with my eyes to the front.
+Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; the men were filling the
+sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck became stiff. No sound
+reached me from the front; I supposed that the nearest rebel vedette was
+not nearer than two hundred yards, unless at a point more advanced from
+his lines there was some natural protection for him. But what prevented
+my being surprised from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened
+my neck; light was beginning to show.
+
+At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call twice. The
+ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself almost impregnable
+against an equal force of skirmishers. Just where an angle in the
+western edge presented a flank of wall toward the north, Willis and his
+gang had cut away the earth into a shelf some three feet beneath the
+top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth surmounted the summit, with open
+spaces between, in order that a musket might be fired through, these
+handy port-holes, and the sand-bags were covered with sedge from the
+open field. I congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.
+
+The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could yet see
+neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and reserved the
+centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be about two feet
+nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was manned by Freeman,
+Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.
+
+"Men, attention!" says Willis.
+
+"Take the caps off of your pieces!"
+
+The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis condescended to
+explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as Act First; that any
+man who should yield to the temptation to fire without orders, was to be
+sent back to the line at once.
+
+Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a bullet
+whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel side.
+
+"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.
+
+Everybody had rushed to his place.
+
+"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.
+
+We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.
+
+"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.
+
+The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.
+
+"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.
+
+Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line in the
+rear.
+
+The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from one to
+another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our heads from
+the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade from both sides
+continued.
+
+Willis was at the parapet.
+
+"Look out!" he cries.
+
+A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets from the
+rebels.
+
+"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.
+
+We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible three
+hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. Our skirmish
+line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired not at us but at
+our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had been but the supplement
+of the artillery fire--all for the purpose of getting full command of
+our line, on which not a man now dared to show his head, for a dozen
+Minié balls would go for it at the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had
+not detected our little squad.
+
+"Prime, men!" says Willis.
+
+The guns were capped.
+
+"Now, hold your fire till the word!"
+
+Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all their own
+way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their waists could be
+seen; some of them began to walk about a little, for they were not in
+any sort of danger, that is, from our line. They were firing with a
+system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and
+so on down their line, merely to keep the advantage they had gained. At
+irregular intervals two or three shots would be sent at some dummy--a
+hat or coat held up by the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.
+
+"_Ready!_" says Willis.
+
+Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another joined them.
+
+"_Aim! Fire!_"
+
+Five triggers were pulled.
+
+"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable oath, than
+any I ever saw in print.
+
+The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my way; I had
+been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly see anything. Put
+yourself in a hole, and raise your head until your eyes are an inch, or
+two above the surface of ground almost level--what can you see? But for
+a slight depression between us and the rebels, the position would have
+been worthless; yet every evil, according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or
+good side--our fortress was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it,
+if they saw it at all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective
+mingling our small elevation with the greater ones beyond.
+
+We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight feet
+deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a rattle of
+firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had taken advantage of
+the diversion brought, and had turned the tables; not a shot was coming
+from the front.
+
+Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," he said.
+
+Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were doing
+nothing, and were nervously expectant.
+
+Holt wished for a pack of cards.
+
+A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a gang of
+rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were but sixty
+yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line could protect
+us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of 'em before they could
+git to us." To this Thompson replied that if the rebels should again get
+the upper hand, and make our men afraid to show their heads, the rebels
+could come on us from the woods without great danger. Willis admitted
+that Thompson had reason, but did not think the rebels had yet found us
+out; at any rate, they would be afraid to come so near our strong
+skirmish-line; so for his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the
+right was the place of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the
+rebels might sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we
+were here.
+
+Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the front was
+heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us became silent.
+
+We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its port-hole.
+
+"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have another
+chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. Berwick first.
+Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a head--"
+
+I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that my shot
+missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides pegged away
+for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his man.
+
+Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of the bags
+between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and into the wall of
+the ravine behind us. Willis fired.
+
+"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."
+
+Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and then
+Freeman, and it became my turn again.
+
+That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and buried
+itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not believe that an
+ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted whether an Enfield had it.
+The rebels were getting good arms from England. It might be that some
+man over there had a Whitworth telescope rifle; if so he had detected us
+perhaps--a telescope would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this
+speculation, but watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a
+man as low as his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag
+was struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
+which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
+bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the wall
+of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.
+
+"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'll report directly, Sergeant."
+
+I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a long, leaden
+cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than calibre 45 I guessed.
+This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to Willis; he understood.
+
+"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."
+
+The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth over
+there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers where we were
+posted; then we should be a target for their whole line, and at three
+hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our sand-bags and make us
+lie low.
+
+Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched on the
+cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, the others
+fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.
+
+Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our fun.
+
+Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that we had
+done more damage than we had received, and should receive; that all we
+had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm should pass; the
+rebels would think that we were gone and would cease wasting their
+ammunition; then we could have more fun.
+
+Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so said
+Thompson, and so said Freeman.
+
+My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this moment
+retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge of the
+woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not killed; it was
+doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for the rebels, if they
+had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, and would throw a
+hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again get the upper hand of
+the rebels, then we could get out easily; if not, we must stay here till
+night. We had done all that could be done--had done well, and we must
+not risk loss without a purpose; we must protect ourselves; let the
+rebels waste their powder--the more they wasted, the better. The only
+real danger was that the rebels might advance; but even if they did,
+they could not get at us without coming to blows with our line--the
+ravine protected our line from their charge. It was our business to stay
+where we were and to keep a sharp lookout.
+
+So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we should
+keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at the bottom of
+the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.
+
+The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below the level
+of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to the porthole.
+Freeman began, taking off his coat.
+
+"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.
+
+He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat above on
+a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, faced us, raised
+his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was the first dummy that
+the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at any rate their whole force
+was at once busy; the fire rolled from left to right far down the line,
+yet when Freeman examined his garments he found that neither hat nor
+coat had been struck.
+
+"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want to."
+
+Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must make
+some effort to keep awake.
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a little,
+and see what's there."
+
+"All right, Jones; but don't go far."
+
+I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward our
+line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned toward the
+left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the left, running
+for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running straight toward the
+rebels. I came back and reported.
+
+"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We must
+keep two sentinels on post now."
+
+Thompson was posted at the bend.
+
+It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the gully;
+they could not know how small was our force; if they should march a
+company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to capture by a
+sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, however, that a few men
+would try to sneak up in order to see how many we were; yet even this
+supposition was not necessary, for the rebels were having everything
+their own way, and need risk nothing. So I decided in my own mind to be
+as patient as possible until dark.
+
+The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional Whitworth
+bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we could not hear
+the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer seen. What were they
+planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could find a means for
+communicating with our friends in the rear; if they would open fire
+again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was best to be quiet
+until dark.
+
+I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at the bend.
+Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; our game had been
+blocked. The notion now came to me that if the rebels wanted us, the way
+to get us would be to send men up the ravine just before dark, and at
+the same time for a squad of them to steal through the woods to our
+left, where they would be ready for us when we should steal out.
+
+"Sergeant!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Think we'd better get back."
+
+"What's the matter now?"
+
+"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."
+
+"Fact, by--!" says Willis.
+
+"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here to tell
+you how to do it."
+
+"Le's have it," says Willis.
+
+"Make a big smoke!"
+
+Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, down at
+the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the ravine. Our knives
+and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big heap of green boughs
+and sprigs. It would take work to touch her off, for there was no dry
+wood; but we managed by finding the remains of cartridge papers and
+using a free supply of gunpowder. When all was ready, Holt was recalled,
+and the match was struck.
+
+"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a partin'
+salute."
+
+The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately peeping to the
+front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At last she caught, and a
+thin column of black smoke began to ascend.
+
+"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up to."
+
+A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, or by us
+at them.
+
+The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it away from
+the woods.
+
+"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.
+
+But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort Willis
+should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention had been so
+fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the universe had become
+a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder almost overhead startled the
+defenders of the redoubt. Without our knowledge a storm had rolled up
+from the Atlantic; the rain was beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops,
+already obscuring our vision.
+
+"_Fire!_" shouted Willis.
+
+The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to the
+skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's making.
+
+
+
+XII
+
+MORE ACTIVE SERVICE
+
+         "Do but start
+     An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
+     And even at hand a drum is ready braced
+     That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were heard in the
+direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the light of great
+fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be ready to march, but the
+morning wore away, and it was almost two o'clock before the long roll
+beat. At length we moved with the column, already unnerved by
+long-continued expectation, westward upon the Williamsburg road.
+
+Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told you so."
+
+Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he kept on
+predicting till the rain came.
+
+The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up by the
+retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of us.
+
+Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had come into
+our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking our way. We
+rested. About dark our head of column was turned back and we
+countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted again, where,
+I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn out when orders
+were given that the men should lie on their arms, but that they should
+otherwise make themselves as comfortable as they could. Rain was
+falling, the night was black, comfort was impossible. I suppose I got
+two or three hours' sleep. At daylight the march was again taken up; in
+an hour or two we halted and formed line with skirmishers in front; it
+was still raining.
+
+We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank, through the
+woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers deployed in
+advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets flew amongst us.
+We continued to advance until we reached the edge of the woods; the line
+had not yet fired a shot.
+
+The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we became
+visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the timber at our
+ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We lay there for
+something like two hours; then we moved to the rear,--only our regiment,
+I think,--fronted again, and marched to the right for perhaps a mile
+through the woods. Willis said that we were seeking any enemy that might
+be in the woods; but he aroused no interest; nobody either approved or
+seemed to doubt Willis's interpretation of the movement; we did not know
+what the generals were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and
+hungry and wet.
+
+By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position near the
+felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile batteries to fire
+upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the rear. I noticed that
+our company seemed small; perhaps a few had been wounded; certainly many
+had fallen out of ranks, unable longer to endure.
+
+About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time through
+the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the roar of musketry
+ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen running in every direction
+except one. We moved on in line, without skirmishers. The straggling men
+increased in numbers, and many wounded went past us, the ambulance
+corps working busily here in the dense wet forest. The yells of the
+rebels were plainly heard, and all eyes were strained to catch sight of
+what was already but too well known. Every moment was an hour.
+
+Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line staggered
+to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as he could--firing
+at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could be heard in the
+smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution in our own strife,
+there could be faintly heard the noise of battle to our right, far and
+near to our right.
+
+Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to the
+left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers cried,
+"They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that line, men! They
+are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in convincing most of us
+that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are flanked!" "Look out!"
+"Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the whole crowd of us were running
+with all our legs. I reached a road that ran across the line of my
+flight; it was full of everything: troops in good order, stragglers
+breaking through them, wounded lying down, dead flat on their backs,
+artillery horses in their traces, ambulances.
+
+So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops had
+relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and the
+battle soon ended on the whole line.
+
+With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the woods;
+the rain kept on.
+
+I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered a
+victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we had won
+it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the battle. The
+rebels fought this partial engagement only for the purpose, I think, of
+securing the retreat of their army and trains; we fought for the purpose
+of preventing the retreat. I have learned that our right wing had
+better success than we had on the left; but for all that, the enemy got
+away unbroken, and his purpose was accomplished. In the days of those
+early battles, even the falling back of the rebel pickets before a line
+of our skirmishers was telegraphed to Washington as a victory.
+
+We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small. Willis's
+remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring much comfort;
+even his assertion, that they would again retreat and that the morning
+would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm. The men were
+dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought hard and had
+endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they were physically
+exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody had blundered in
+putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place. I have always been
+proud that none of our men deserted on the night of the
+Williamsburg battle.
+
+No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down. My
+gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top; this was
+our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and gum-blanket. The night
+was warm enough, and our covering was needed only as some protection
+against the rain. I was soon asleep, but awake again as soon. About ten
+o'clock I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rising, I saw our
+orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by him. I was ordered to report at
+General Grover's headquarters. The general had sent an orderly, who
+could not or would not tell why I was wanted.
+
+General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers, surrounding a
+dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a large tree; horses
+were tied near by to the branches of trees.
+
+The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.
+
+The general came toward me; I saluted.
+
+"Your name," said he.
+
+"Private Jones Berwick."
+
+"Your regiment."
+
+"Eleventh."
+
+"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."
+
+I bowed.
+
+"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"
+
+"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after danger," said
+I.
+
+"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."
+
+He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers scattering.
+
+"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must send a
+man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this brigade?"
+
+"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."
+
+"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going should
+not be allowed to go."
+
+"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me decline."
+
+"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall lose
+nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do your duty
+well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."
+
+"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.
+
+"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let me show
+you."
+
+He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an officer
+stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and placed the
+lantern near the blanket.
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.
+
+The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on the
+blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.
+
+"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil; "you see
+our line here, running north and south."
+
+"Which is north?" I asked.
+
+"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over here, or
+were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this branch, in
+part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get across the branch,
+and go on through the woods until you come to this road, which you see
+running north and south. You need not go across this road. All I want
+you to do is to observe this road until day."
+
+"Is the road in the woods, General?"
+
+"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble
+whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the
+road," said he.
+
+"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall I do?"
+
+"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their vedettes
+near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to the road. If
+they are on this side of the road, but so near the road that you can
+observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with as little risk to
+yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on the road, you must
+come back to the picket-line and report, and then return to your post of
+observation."
+
+"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and our
+picket-line?"
+
+"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to supply one."
+
+"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this side of
+the road."
+
+"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night. Take your
+own way to do it, but the road must be observed."
+
+"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"
+
+"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred yards,"
+said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of paper."
+
+"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the other
+brigades, General?"
+
+"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will hardly
+find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do our duty for
+us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision such as you
+speak of."
+
+"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"
+
+"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you through.
+I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."
+
+"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't find you
+when I get back."
+
+"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get back to
+us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that relieve them
+about you."
+
+"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said I.
+
+"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through the other
+man. Is everything clear to you now?"
+
+"Yes, General; I think so."
+
+"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten minutes."
+
+I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed, and I
+was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as much
+consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that I should
+run against one of them in the darkness. I put my gum-blanket over me,
+committed my knapsack and other things to Willis's keeping; and was back
+with the general.
+
+We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the general had
+shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief conversation took place
+between the general and Captain Brown of the picket-line. The captain
+chose a man, and told him to follow me and to obey my orders.
+
+Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, my
+man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you report any
+movement on that road." I began to assure him that I would do all that I
+could, but I found that he had already started back to the brigade.
+
+I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when I
+should return. The low call went right and left along the line,--"Two of
+our men going to the front!"
+
+"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.
+
+"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are only
+thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour ago."
+
+I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern, which
+his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or more, that
+the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two men to every five
+paces, and that every man was standing in his place, gun in
+hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their faces to the
+front. There were no picket fires.
+
+"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"
+
+"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new men in
+half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for such duty.
+The new men will be advised that you are still in front. Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come."
+
+The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the
+detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The
+captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to the
+picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I say
+observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch it. I
+asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the picket-line; while he
+was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette. He had heard nothing in his
+front, except that now and then there seemed to come to him, from far
+away, an indistinct rumble; he had seen nothing in the black night
+except trees but little blacker. The rain was a thick drizzle.
+
+I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard anything in his
+front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the vedettes had orders
+not to fire, but to retire at once on the picket-line in case of a
+silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar order, which at a later time
+I heard given again under somewhat similar circumstances, was no doubt a
+wise one. A secret advance of the enemy's skirmishers would have been
+precipitated into a charge by the fire of the vedette, whereas his
+secret retreat to his line would prepare the pickets to surprise the
+surprisers.
+
+And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods were so
+dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to see ahead of
+me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I supposed that the branch
+which I was to cross was but a very short distance in front. I had no
+fear that I should find enemies this side of the branch; the great
+probability was that their vedettes were posted on the farther bank of
+the stream. When I had gone not more than thirty yards, I felt that the
+ground sloped downward before me, and I judged that the branch was very
+near. I paused. There was not a sound except that made by the fall of
+heavy drops of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes,
+trying to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could
+not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a low
+whisper if he could see at all.
+
+"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you stand."
+
+I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that the
+branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little more light.
+He whispered back that there was, he thought, more light in our front
+than there had been before. I now tried to discern this new light, and
+could not at first, but after a little while it did seem to me that just
+ahead there was a dim gray streak.
+
+I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and I felt
+my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a step back,
+and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward, holding Allen's
+hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to do so. We went back
+again, some three steps, until I was out of the water.
+
+Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were hand-in-hand. He
+whispered, "It is ten steps wide."
+
+"Can you see across it?"
+
+"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."
+
+In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt myself in a
+more critical place. The opposite side of the branch was an ideal
+position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be there if anywhere in
+these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might have neglected their
+opportunity; besides, their line might be bent back here; their vedettes
+might be on the branch farther to our right, and _here_ might be
+anywhere in its rear; we did not know where the rebel right rested. Of
+one thing I felt sure--the rebels did not intend to advance on this
+night, for in that case they would have had their vedettes, and their
+pickets also, if possible, on our side of the branch.
+
+The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If vedettes
+were on it, it was just within the possible that I might pass between
+two of them.
+
+I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one, which he
+put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat, lest my foot
+should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused utter failure, if
+not our capture.
+
+We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the stick
+seemed to sink into soft mud.
+
+I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to my
+knees in water.
+
+I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.
+
+Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under my feet.
+I thought I had reached the middle.
+
+I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same
+monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.
+
+We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed steep. By
+feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed Allen's hand from
+my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the water below me.
+
+I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily tell that
+there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be surrounded by a dense,
+low thicket. What was in this thicket? Likely the rebel vedettes
+and pickets.
+
+My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel the
+smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying there, but not
+entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the splintered middle of the
+tree, still holding. I at once knew that I was in the midst of felled
+timber,--on the edge of a slashing or entanglement.
+
+Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely, unless
+there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the strip of
+timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just in rear of it;
+perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the branch, and in order to
+impede and expose to hearing any enemy that might succeed in crossing
+the branch. But, in that case, would not the timber be a protection
+rather than a hindrance to the enemy advancing or stealing forward? Yes,
+unless the vedettes were just in rear of this very narrow strip, or
+unless the rebel intrenchments were in easy musket range.
+
+These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with Allen
+below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber there might be
+capture, or death, or there might be no danger whatever. I was beginning
+to hope that there was no vedette or picket-line in these woods.
+
+Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward; after
+having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused and
+listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and, giving him
+my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went forward until I
+supposed we were near the spot to which I had previously advanced.
+Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept on again, and again
+returned to him; then both went forward as before. On this second stage
+of our approach we passed through to the farther side of the
+felled timber.
+
+We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every moment
+lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's works ought to
+be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis without intrenchments
+was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to find the
+intrenchments deserted.
+
+The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We had used
+up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of less than two
+hundred yards.
+
+I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with Allen
+forward--until at length I reached a road running across my line
+of progress.
+
+After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down on my
+hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell with my hands
+that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I supposed were horses'
+tracks, but it was impossible for me to know which way the
+tracks headed.
+
+Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or forty
+yards, and found nothing.
+
+Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do you
+think that skirt of felled timber means?"
+
+"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.
+
+"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there is
+nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel left in
+these woods."
+
+"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
+fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."
+
+"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough its
+purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being seen."
+
+"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."
+
+I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the approach to a
+rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear many noises. The
+only thing I now feared was some scouting party.
+
+It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired upon, I
+decided that we must learn which way the movement on the road had been.
+I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a match near the
+ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked with all our eyes,
+moving the match back and forth over the road. The tracks all headed to
+our right.
+
+Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the road.
+
+"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"Through the woods."
+
+"How long will you be gone?"
+
+"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you must return
+to the pickets and report that there has already been a considerable
+movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I feel certain that
+there are no rebels in these woods. They were here, but they have gone.
+I want to get to the open ground and see what is there; it will not
+take long."
+
+"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this spot," said
+he.
+
+"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is nobody in
+these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."
+
+"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are better
+than one."
+
+"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to both of us
+out there, and neither of us be able to report to General Grover. Stay
+where you are."
+
+I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be able to
+turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods became more
+open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see much better. I
+reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few stars were shining
+between broken clouds near the horizon in front of me--west, I thought.
+Toward the north, and northwest the clouds reflected some distant light,
+and had a reddish glow. I could distinctly hear the sounds of great
+movements, the rumblings of wagon, trains or artillery. The ground
+seemed open before me for a long distance.
+
+I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet me.
+
+"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over. Go back
+to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General Grover that
+the road shows clearly that the rebels have already moved along it to
+their left, our right; and that there is nobody here, all gone; gone to
+our right, their left, and that I have been entirely through the woods,
+and have found nothing, but that to the northwest there are the sounds
+of great movements, and that I am going to see if I cannot find
+out more."
+
+"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I doubt if
+I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear in
+this place."
+
+Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two o'clock, I
+thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about me. I passed
+rapidly through the woods again and into the open ground, climbing a
+rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that rose before me, an "old
+field," or abandoned farm, which was scattered over here and there with
+clumps of stunted growth. Once I paused in terror. A bush had taken, to
+my fancy, the form of a man. The illusion lasted but for a moment.
+
+When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could see
+many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them stationary. The
+sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear shouts, like those
+of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch the command to close up.
+
+I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was difficult
+to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red glare I could
+distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were rebels in line before
+me, I should be able to see them before they could see me, so I went on
+without great fear, and crept to the top of this second swell of
+the ground.
+
+Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating. The road
+was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires were burning on
+both sides of the road; men and wagons were hurrying westward. Almost in
+front of me was a cluster of houses, which I took to be Williamsburg;
+fires were burning in the streets; a great throng was passing on west
+between the fires and between the houses. I had little doubt that I
+could mingle, without great danger, with the rebels, seeing that my
+gum-blanket would hide my uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought
+was rejected, however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew
+enough already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than
+I now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly
+delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried
+toward our pickets.
+
+When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had been
+advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made my report
+to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who mounted and rode
+off in haste.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was Willis.
+Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis was bubbling
+over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a high horse; the
+rebels would make no further stand until they reached Richmond; he
+doubted if they would attempt to defend Richmond, even. His spirits
+were contagious; he did good although he was ludicrous. What would Dr.
+Khayme have said of Willis's influence? I supposed that the Doctor would
+have used the sergeant as an illustration of his doctrine that there is
+nothing unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.
+
+The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but a short
+distance, and bivouacked.
+
+About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to Colonel
+Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had never before
+been individually in his presence. I wondered what it meant, and
+hastened to his headquarters.
+
+I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.
+
+"You are Private Berwick?" he said.
+
+"Yes, Colonel."
+
+"What have you been doing?"
+
+"In what respect, Colonel?"
+
+"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff, but his
+eye and mouth belied his voice.
+
+"Here," said he; "take this and read it."
+
+I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D, Eleventh
+Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further orders, from duty
+with his company, and will hold himself ready for special service
+when ordered."
+
+This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by General
+Grover.
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE
+
+"Take all the swift advantage of the hours."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I was again
+aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to the adjutant of
+the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of General Grover's order
+relieving me from regular duty--in fact had himself written the order by
+command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had been asked to issue it by our
+brigade commander. The adjutant also told me that I should still get
+rations through Company D, but that I was free to go and come when not
+on special duty, and that I was expected to keep him advised of my
+goings, so that I could be found when wanted. "For the rest," said he,
+"you will do much as you wish, especially when the brigade is in
+reserve, as it is to-day, and as it is likely to be for a good many days
+to come. Your services to be required at long intervals will make up, it
+is hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."
+
+I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on the
+right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the
+battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over which
+Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the rebels had here
+suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in places, although
+details of men had long been busy in burying the slain of both armies.
+
+At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed wrong more
+than once. No one was there except a white servant; he told me that the
+Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had been busy the whole of
+the preceding day and night in relieving the wounded; that he had taken
+no sleep at all. "I don't see how the Doctor stands what he goes
+through," said the man. "Yesterday the whole day long he was in the
+thick of it; he was in as great danger as the troops were; lots more
+than some of 'em. He said that the rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but
+for my part I wouldn't trust one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull
+by the tail; and him a tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."
+
+This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of danger.
+At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the wounded as
+they fell. I supposed that there was no use expostulating with a man who
+so firmly believed in the peculiar doctrines of his philosophy.
+
+About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.
+
+"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you think
+you are going to stay with me several days?"
+
+"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"
+
+"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this side of
+the Chickahominy."
+
+"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.
+
+"You will know."
+
+"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"
+
+"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on special
+duty not to be demanded for some time."
+
+"You know about my case?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such arduous
+labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and his mental
+power were to me matters for astonishment equally great.
+
+"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You need rest
+and sleep."
+
+"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I sleep;
+just now I want supper."
+
+After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a
+camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other man
+in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his eyes
+filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in perfect
+repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.
+
+I asked about Lydia.
+
+"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with me, but
+I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton until the
+army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do before you have
+any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for her yet."
+
+"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.
+
+"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can come to me
+when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we shall not demand
+her services here. But now tell me all about your last night's
+experience."
+
+When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be called on
+to do more of such work."
+
+"I suppose so," said I.
+
+"Do you like it?"
+
+"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I shall
+not object if I can accomplish anything."
+
+"You have accomplished something each time that you have been sent out.
+You have at least furnished strong corroborative evidence, sufficiently
+strong to induce action on the part of your generals."
+
+"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."
+
+"Are you sleepy?"
+
+"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the afternoon."
+
+"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given unto
+man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of last night
+you will incur little risk."
+
+"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."
+
+"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you will be
+in less danger, and you will accomplish more."
+
+"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more," said I.
+
+"You should always do such work unarmed."
+
+"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances only, and
+a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be silent."
+
+"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor; "you
+will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives will be safer
+from you."
+
+"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"
+
+"And be a spy, Jones?"
+
+"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not in
+them."
+
+"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.
+
+The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message addressed:--
+
+  PRIVATE BERWICK,
+   _On detached service,
+       At Sanitary Camp,
+         Rear of General Hancock's division_.
+
+"Who gave you this?" I asked.
+
+"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a horseman
+with two horses."
+
+"Is he waiting?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity; the
+thought went through my mind that he already knew or suspected.
+
+There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which contained
+only the countersigns for the past five days, and an order from
+General Hooker.
+
+The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had
+influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I could
+merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read the order
+thoroughly three times, learned by heart the countersigns, impressed the
+map on my mind, and then destroyed the three papers in accordance with
+an express injunction comprised in the order itself. This mental work
+took some minutes, during which the Doctor sat impassive.
+
+"Doctor, I must go."
+
+"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose you are
+on secret service."
+
+"Yes, Doctor,"
+
+"Can I help in any way?"
+
+"Please let me have that gray suit."
+
+He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.
+
+"Anything else, Jones?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I shall need food."
+
+"How will you carry it?"
+
+"In my pockets. Bread will do."
+
+"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that you
+shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."
+
+He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or pocket;
+this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I wanted.
+
+"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."
+
+"I am not in this army," he said.
+
+The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.
+
+"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to get back
+in two or three days."
+
+"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was gone.
+
+Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."
+
+"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"
+
+"No, sir; I suppose not."
+
+"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and that I
+begin work at once."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and rode toward
+the east.
+
+My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to communicate
+with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought to have landed
+on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House for the purpose of
+cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The earliest possible delivery of
+my message was strenuously required, my orders even going so far as to
+include reasons for despatch. The retreating enemy were almost between
+us and Franklin, and he must be notified to attack and delay them at
+every hazard, and must be informed if possible by what road he should
+advance in order to cut off their retreat; it was added that, upon
+landing, General Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel
+army, and would depend upon information being brought to him by some one
+of the messengers sent him on this night.
+
+My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging from the
+map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the six miles in
+less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts I had no trouble.
+
+"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.
+
+"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Don't know. Horse black."
+
+"Going fast?"
+
+"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' _to_ hell, too, if he
+don't mind how he rides."
+
+It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty miles ahead
+of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that circumspection was worth
+more than haste--let the black horse go on.
+
+"Where are the rebels?"
+
+"A mile in front when dark came."
+
+"Infantry?"
+
+"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't know
+which."
+
+"Please describe their position."
+
+"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up across the
+road--a mile out there," pointing.
+
+"In the woods?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Captain--"
+
+"No, only lieutenant."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me to the
+point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"
+
+"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"
+
+As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but he knew
+nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or infantry,
+whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how many they were.
+The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road muffled the sounds of the
+horses' hoofs; no noise came from front or rear. The way was through the
+woods; in little more than half a mile open ground was seen ahead.
+Johnson stopped; so did I.
+
+"They are on the other side of the field," said he,
+
+"How wide is the field?"
+
+"A quarter, I guess."
+
+"What was planted in the field last year?"
+
+"Corn."
+
+"Stalks still standing?"
+
+"Yes, but they are very small."
+
+"Does the road run between fences?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How far does the field extend to our right?"
+
+"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."
+
+"And to our left?"
+
+"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."
+
+"Any houses?"
+
+"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."
+
+"A farmhouse?"
+
+"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."
+
+"Which side of the road?"
+
+"The left."
+
+Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.
+
+How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival at
+Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it might mean
+success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at nightfall, I
+should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if they were yet
+yonder in the woods on the other side of the field, they would capture
+me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the safe course, or the
+possible speedy course? I took the safe course. Dismounting I tied my
+horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward on the right of the
+right-hand fence, until I reached the woods beyond the field. I looked
+over the fence into the road. There was no enemy visible. The house at
+the west was without lights, and there was no noise of barking dogs or
+of anything else; clearly the rebels had moved, and by my prudence the
+black horse had gained further upon me. I got into the road and ran back
+to my horse, mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a
+mile; then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not
+expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first disappointment
+control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat of the rebels was
+necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains to protect. The road
+must be forsaken at the first path that would lead me to the right; any
+bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The night was clear, and the stars
+would guide me until I should reach some better ground. The sketch
+furnished me gave me only the main road, with the branch roads marked
+down for very short distances. I would take one of the branch roads
+leading to the right; there must be roads leading up the York; all the
+country is interlaced with roads small and large. I would risk it;
+better do that than risk falling into the enemy's hands.
+
+I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could
+distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was louder--coming
+and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into the woods a few
+yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still the sounds reached
+me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse, yet coming from far. Who
+could be riding fast this night? Who could be riding south this night?
+The rebels were going north; no rebel horseman would ride
+south to-night.
+
+The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed by; I
+could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I saw a black
+horse going south.
+
+Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I could not
+know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I be sure that
+in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or black from bay? I
+could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my first impression. The
+lieutenant had said the man's horse was black. How did the lieutenant
+know? Had he seen the horse by day? Had he brought a light? The horse
+must be very black. To satisfy my mind I led my horse into the road and
+slipped the bridle round his foreleg; then retired a few yards and
+looked at him--he had not the colour of the black horse; he was a
+deep bay.
+
+Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been found
+far up the road, and the messenger could not get through them. Who else
+would be riding fast down this road? If the rider were a rebel, he would
+ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward our own lines; this rider was
+one of ours. Who was he? He was the messenger on the black horse. Why
+should he ride so fast to the rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps
+he knew of another road, and was hurrying now because he had already
+lost time and his new road would be longer and would make him lose more.
+
+Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the black horse
+far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before I should
+encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.
+
+After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on the
+right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and considered.
+The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were occupied, what should
+I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one was now in the cabin, I
+might get information; if it was deserted, I could explore the ground
+about it, for I hoped that some path connected this place with other
+fields and perhaps other roads to the north. I dismounted and approached
+the door and knocked. There was no response. I pushed the door, and it
+opened; the place had been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a
+well in the back yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path
+leading to a spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully
+continued my search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the
+back fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to
+the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached the
+woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the trees
+overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my horse, I
+continued on and came to a larger field where, at the fence, the path
+connected with, a narrow plantation road which I knew, from the ruts,
+wagons had used. I went to the right, no longer dismounted, and going at
+a fast trot. My road was running in a northeast course, but soon the
+corner of the field was reached, and then it branched, one branch going
+to the north, the other continuing northeast Which should I take? I
+could not hesitate; I rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road
+for nearly a mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt
+sure that I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
+considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road again,
+but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was stretched
+along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the rear-guard
+picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had preceded me. I
+would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost lost sometimes, passing
+farms and woods and streams, forsaking one path for a worse one, if the
+latter favoured my course, until at last, after great anxiety, and
+fatigue of body and mind, I reached a wide road running northwest. I had
+come, I supposed, four or five miles from the stile.
+
+Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in the road
+to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map was worthless
+now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying parties; those
+people I must watch for.
+
+I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles to go,
+for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but I counted
+that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative safety, and had five
+hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing about, but it was running in
+the correct course for Eltham's Landing high up on the river.
+
+Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should take the
+right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight off to the
+York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take the left, it was
+chance for chance that I should ride straight to the enemy on the
+Richmond road.
+
+I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of hope
+thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance, but would
+take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or bridle-path
+branching out of this, and running up the river. But my progress became
+exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss seeing some blind road
+leading to the right, and my carefulness again cost me a little time,
+perhaps, for I found a path, and took it, going with great caution for a
+furlong, to find that it entered a larger road. If I had not taken this
+path, I should have soon reached this good road at its junction, and
+time would have been saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame
+myself, and went on with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon
+was getting far down the sky, my road was good and was running straight
+toward my end.
+
+But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard hoof-beats
+behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some night rider was
+following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal? Loud ring the strokes
+of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I must run or I must
+slip aside.
+
+I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw up the
+game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid in the
+shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering hoofs hit the
+road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the black horse belly to
+the ground in the moonlight.
+
+Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man before me; if
+he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me; so long as he
+should be in my front, safety for me was at the front and danger
+elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the road stretches were
+long, going slowly where the ground was hard, lest the noise of my
+approach should be heard. Yet I had no difficulty; the courier was
+straining every nerve to reach his destination, and regarded not his
+rear. He crossed roads in haste, and by this I knew that the road was to
+him familiar; he paused never, but kept his horse at an even gallop
+through forest and through field, while I followed by jerks, making my
+horse run at times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back
+to slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.
+
+But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had supposed;
+light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the west. How far to
+the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he has gone many weary
+miles more than mine has gone; his rider is urging him to the utmost; I
+can see him dig his spurs again and again into the sides of the noble
+beast, and see him strike, and I see him turn where the road turns ahead
+of me, and I ride faster to recover him; and now I see black smoke
+rising at my right hand, and I hear the whistle of the Union steam
+vessels, and I almost cry for joy, and at the turning of the road my
+horse rears and almost throws me to the ground, and I see the black
+horse lying dead, and I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror
+as a man springs from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts,
+"Your horse! your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your
+brains out!"
+
+For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!
+
+Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I write
+the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the past:--the
+daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two horses, each pair
+as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was dead and the other man
+was about to die. Had I been so utterly foolish! Why had I conceived
+absolutely that this rider was a Federal? How could a Federal know the
+road so well that he had gone over it at full speed, never hesitating,
+never deflecting into a wrong course? The instant before, I had been in
+heaven, for I had known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt
+that my end had come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a
+lost mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time
+any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and reaching
+our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.
+
+In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world _was_
+changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I saw his hands go
+up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed sight--were two
+Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the man in gray.
+
+"Take me at once to General Franklin."
+
+Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same words!
+
+The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black horse was a
+Federal in disguise!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no error on
+my part, my mission was a failure.
+
+"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of it?" I
+asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.
+
+"That horse was going home!"
+
+"A horse captured from the rebels?"
+
+"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing. You see he
+had already made that road and was not in the best condition to make it
+again so soon; then I had to turn about more than once. I suppose that
+horse must have made nearly a hundred miles in twenty-four hours."
+
+Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as General
+Porter's messenger.
+
+On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OUT OF SORTS
+
+      "Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
+      Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
+      A party in this alteration, finding
+      Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling for Dr.
+Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was sure that no
+other man was received as his companion--not that he was distant, but
+that he was not approached. By nature I am affectionate, but at that
+time my emotions were severely and almost continually repressed by my
+will, because of a condition of nervous sensitiveness in regard to the
+possibility of an exposure of my peculiarity, so that I often wondered
+whether the Doctor fully understood the love and reverence I bore him.
+
+On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say, on the
+morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William and Mary
+College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices, as he said,
+for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the open air, busily
+engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when I saw a man coming
+toward me. It was Willis.
+
+"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.
+
+"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"
+
+"That depends."
+
+"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought out a
+camp-stool; Willis remained standing.
+
+"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear about
+your being detailed for special work?"
+
+"So," said I.
+
+"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"
+
+Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be; besides, I
+had observed that he called me Berwick rather than Jones. His attitude
+chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about myself. We talk about
+personal matters to personal friends. I suppose, too, that I am peculiar
+in such things; at any rate, so great was my distaste to talking now
+with Willis on the subject in question that I did not succeed in hiding
+my feeling.
+
+"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."
+
+"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal matters,
+perhaps too personal."
+
+"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then he asked,
+"How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"
+
+It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not of the
+little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to Lydia, and
+I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my being or becoming
+his rival. Yet I did not see how I could introduce a subject so
+delicate. In order to gain time, I replied: "Well, I don't know exactly;
+I am subject to orders from brigade headquarters. If no orders come, I
+shall stay here a day or two; if we march, I suppose I shall march with
+the company, unless the division is in the rear."
+
+"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will you do?"
+he asked.
+
+This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I asked,
+"Why do you wish to know?"
+
+"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to show
+your hand."
+
+"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.
+
+"You know very well what I mean," he replied.
+
+"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say anything, this
+is a good time for saying it."
+
+"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss Lydia."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And I thought you were my friend."
+
+"I am your friend."
+
+"Then why do you get into my way?"
+
+"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what would you
+have me to do?"
+
+"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."
+
+"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"
+
+"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why you
+visit him."
+
+"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him. I have
+no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."
+
+"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."
+
+"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to favour
+your hopes?"
+
+"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's company;
+but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that you want
+Miss Lydia."
+
+"Shall I tell him that you say that?"
+
+"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he replied
+angrily.
+
+"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss Lydia?"
+
+"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've got to say
+is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my way."
+
+"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me into a very
+delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and explain to him that my
+attachment to him is not a piece of hypocrisy played by me in order to
+win his daughter, would not be satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or
+even to Miss Khayme."
+
+"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my assumption that
+she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my saying, 'I don't want
+you,' and more than that, as you can easily see. I decline to put myself
+into such a position. I prefer to assume that she does not regard me as
+a suitor, and that the Doctor receives me only as an old pupil. I beg
+you to stay here until the Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can
+promise you one thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a
+clear field."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with Miss
+Lydia?"
+
+"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect me to
+say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it would be
+silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have not. I can
+tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia that I would not
+speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter, and I can say that I
+have not one degree of claim upon her."
+
+"Then you will keep out of my way?"
+
+"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will keep
+out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young lady is
+absolutely free so far as I am concerned."
+
+At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and went
+into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I offered to
+lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so greatly
+interested, but he would not consent.
+
+The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he said.
+
+"You surprise me, Doctor."
+
+"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week to
+come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division moves.
+Lydia will find enough to do here."
+
+Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short distance; on
+parting with him I told him that he might expect to see me again
+at night.
+
+"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"
+
+"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."
+
+Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said nothing.
+
+When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He looked
+up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing to write, he
+said, "So Willis is angry."
+
+"Why do you say so, Doctor?"
+
+"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.
+
+I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.
+
+"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before I could
+reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that expression; it is a
+good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed, mentally unwell, physically
+ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of sorts. Out of sorts means mixed,
+unclassified, unassorted, having one's functions disordered. One who
+cannot separate his functions distinctly is unwell and, necessarily,
+miserable. Willis showed signs of dementia; his brain is not acting
+right. I think I can cure him."
+
+I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of sarcasm.
+
+He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate of any
+individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that is, sane at
+times, but to find them would be like finding the traditional needle. I
+suppose our good friend Willis would rank higher than the average, after
+all is said."
+
+"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."
+
+"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man for a
+soldier and a sergeant, and be content."
+
+Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge of
+nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this time I
+had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had alarmed or
+offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round the subject.
+
+"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a commission. If
+the war continues, there will be many chances for promotion."
+
+"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a commission. The
+difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is greater in pay than in
+qualification; in fact, a good orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a
+good captain. Let Willis have his commission. Let that be his ambition,
+if he persists in murdering people."
+
+The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words were
+intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I could do
+nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was very delicate.
+Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he was very much afraid
+of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw more than I could see? No,
+that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's
+well-known partiality for me; he feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was
+uneasy. I examined myself; I thought of my past conduct in regard to
+Lydia, and found nothing to condemn. I had been rather more distant, I
+thought, than was necessary. I must preserve this distance.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the company
+to-night."
+
+He looked up. "You will see Willis?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
+
+"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left us
+rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very well."
+
+"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."
+
+"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me here by ten
+o'clock."
+
+When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on duty
+somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and everything
+passed in the friendliest way possible, at first. Evidently he was
+pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia. But he soon learned
+that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and his countenance
+changed at once.
+
+"What am I to think of you?" he asked.
+
+"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you no
+wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."
+
+"He said that I was not well?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my life."
+
+"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."
+
+"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain longer."
+
+"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak to Miss
+Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or the other?"
+
+"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said he; "how
+can I speak to her?"
+
+"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."
+
+"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the one to
+speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it. It's got to
+be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's what's hurting me."
+
+"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.
+
+"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over; it's doing
+me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."
+
+"Why don't you write?"
+
+"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked cowardly
+not to face the music."
+
+"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all. You ought
+to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't suppose you can
+do that."
+
+"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall write."
+
+I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said, coupled with
+my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not think his chance
+worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best thing for him to do was
+to bring matters to a conclusion. He would recover sooner.
+
+At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had arrived
+in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the hospital.
+
+"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little less
+out of sorts?"
+
+"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work, Jones. I
+have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate uniform, while
+scouting."
+
+"And you do not oppose it?"
+
+"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war; all I
+can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it to good."
+
+The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended by
+saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some wounded
+prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles which the
+respective sections were fighting for.
+
+"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout would be
+of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself, as my friend
+Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the best thing for the
+rebels was their quick defeat."
+
+"I remember it."
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind."
+
+"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed. I
+believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe in the
+Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe and you do
+believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to war. But war has
+come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see that an easy defeat of
+the Southern armies will not bring about a wholesome reunion. For the
+people of the two sections to live in harmony, there must be mutual
+respect, and there must be self-respect. An easy triumph over the South
+would cause the North great vainglory and the South great humiliation.
+Granting war, it should be such as to effect as much good and as little
+harm as possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
+respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to know
+that she did all she could, and the North must know that the South
+proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
+respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded upon an
+easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not friends."
+
+
+
+XV
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT
+
+     "The respects thereof are nice and trivial,
+     All circumstances well considered."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned that a
+part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was encamped near
+White House, and that General McClellan's headquarters were at or near
+that place.
+
+Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard that
+the rebels had destroyed the _Merrimac_. Heavy rains fell. Hooker's
+division was still in reserve, and had little to do except to mount camp
+guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr. Khayme in his camp near
+Williamsburg.
+
+I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness to
+melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written to Miss
+Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard time of it, but
+he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a little by taking him
+into my confidence in regard to my own troubles. I was moved to do this
+by the belief that, if I should tell Willis about my peculiarities,
+which in my opinion would make marriage a crime for me, he would find
+companionship in sorrow where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease
+to think entirely of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to
+appreciate my intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir
+up his ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him
+begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.
+
+From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the other
+divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the
+Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the
+Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went
+at once.
+
+"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"
+
+"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.
+
+"Your regiment has had a good rest."
+
+"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."
+
+"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I am
+authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I shall
+be in greater demand there."
+
+"I wish I could go with you," said I.
+
+"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your orders?"
+
+"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to keep the
+adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my whereabouts."
+
+"How frequently must you report in person?"
+
+"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do," said I.
+
+"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I cannot
+think it will be brought into action soon unless there should be a
+general engagement. If you can report in writing every two or three
+days, you need not limit your work or your presence to any particular
+part of the line."
+
+"But the right must be many miles from our division."
+
+"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present right is
+not more than five miles; the distance will be greater, though, in a
+few days."
+
+"What is going on, Doctor?"
+
+"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force in his
+front, and--but let me get a map and show you the situation."
+
+He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread on a
+camp-bed.
+
+"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it. Here, about
+this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division under General
+Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to reënforce his right by
+ordering McDowell to march, thus," describing almost a semicircle which
+began by going south, then southeast, then southwest; "that would place
+McDowell on McClellan's right flank, here. Now, if McDowell reënforces
+McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the Chickahominy, and if
+McDowell does not reënforce McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the
+Chickahominy."
+
+"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.
+
+"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten days;
+afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell comes, it will
+take ten days for his movement to be completed, and your right wing
+would move to meet him if need be, rather than move forward and leave
+him. To move forward would expose McDowell's flank to the Confederates
+near Guiney's, and it is feared that Jackson is not far from them. Am
+I clear?"
+
+"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose McDowell
+does not come."
+
+"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross the
+Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate force,
+supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached Hanover
+Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you advance; besides,
+to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army would endanger your
+supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is an awkward thing to cross;
+if it should rise suddenly, the army on the south side might starve
+before the men could get rations; all that the Confederates would have
+to do would be to prevent wagon trains from crossing the bridges. And
+another thing--defeat, with the river behind the army, would mean
+destruction. McClellan will not cross his army; he will throw only his
+left across."
+
+"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that with a
+wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of being beaten
+in detail."
+
+"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something; he makes
+a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the war department
+already thinks he has lost too much time and has shown too little
+aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring the James River as a
+base, for he could there have a river on either flank, and his base
+would be protected by the fleet; but this theory was overthrown at first
+by the _Merrimac_, and now that she is out of the way the clamour of the
+war department against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan
+accepts the York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to
+prepare, for a change to the James, by throwing forward his left."
+
+"But the left has not been thrown forward."
+
+"It will be done shortly."
+
+"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to reënforce us?"
+
+"McDowell has already been ordered to reënforce McClellan, and the order
+has been countermanded. The Washington authorities fear to uncover
+Washington on account of Jackson's presence in the Shenandoah Valley. If
+McDowell remains near Fredericksburg 'for good,' as we used to say in
+South Carolina, McClellan will be likely to get everything in readiness,
+then wait for his opportunity, and throw his right wing also across the
+Chickahominy, with the purpose of ending the campaign in a general
+engagement before his supplies are endangered. But this will take time.
+So I say that no matter what happens, except one thing, there will be
+nothing done by Hooker for ten days; he will stay in reserve."
+
+"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"
+
+"A general attack by the Confederates."
+
+"And you think that is possible?"
+
+"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And you think
+they are ready to attack?"
+
+"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any rate a
+general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over the
+Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."
+
+"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.
+
+"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or unless
+somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged unless your
+whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There is no possibility
+of an action for a week to come, and unless the Confederates attack,
+there will be no action for a month."
+
+"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates intend to
+attack," said I.
+
+"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you can
+serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You are free
+to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the place
+for you."
+
+"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"
+
+"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one to see
+that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging every day
+for reënforcements; the Confederates are waiting and are being
+reënforced."
+
+"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by going
+with you?"
+
+"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from your
+regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your opportunities for
+service will be better."
+
+"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of reporting to
+the adjutant almost daily."
+
+"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a man."
+
+It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr. Khayme, who,
+on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear of General Porter's
+command, which we found supporting Franklin, whose troops were nearer
+the Chickahominy and behind New Bridge.
+
+Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling him
+where I could be found at need, and promising to send in further reports
+if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this period of the campaign
+there was but little activity anywhere along our lines; in fact, the
+lines had not been fully developed, and, as there was a difficult stream
+between us and the enemy, there was no room for enterprise. Here and
+there a reconnaissance would be made in order to learn something of the
+position of the rebels on the south side of the river, but such
+reconnaissances consisted mostly in merely moving small bodies of our
+troops up to the swamp and getting them fired upon by the Confederate
+artillery posted on the hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the
+22d, while Dr. Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of
+guns in two places, but only a few shots.
+
+"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.
+
+"From a wounded prisoner?"
+
+"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I have
+had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform, perhaps,
+since it has the South Carolina State button, but in everything else it
+is the correct thing."
+
+"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.
+
+"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as quickly as
+possible?"
+
+"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as I can
+do as well with my own,"
+
+"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or somewhere on
+your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor. "General Butterfield has
+given stringent orders for no man to leave camp for an hour."
+
+"Who is General Butterfield?"
+
+"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of his
+camp--Morell's division."
+
+"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation here?"
+
+"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost sorry that
+I have sent for Lydia to come."
+
+"And they will move to the right?"
+
+"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right flank is
+threatened."
+
+"Then why not fall back to the left?"
+
+"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that would look
+like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right will hold; it
+may attack."
+
+"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"
+
+"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.
+
+"But your sympathies are with us."
+
+"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but strong in
+many other points. I think we have discussed this before."
+
+That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again. The
+Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the complete
+abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind allowed him to
+sympathize keenly with the political contention of the South.
+
+We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some one
+approaching.
+
+The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was presented
+to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.
+
+"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he said.
+"General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and proposes to
+borrow him, if possible."
+
+The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the Doctor
+looked at me; I looked at the ground.
+
+The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands that he is
+asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he knows the
+circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere you may
+be needed."
+
+"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is required
+of me?"
+
+"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain Auchmuty.
+"General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as to accompany me
+to his tent, you shall have the matter explained."
+
+The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he could
+just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think myself
+his debtor.
+
+"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."
+
+"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I promise
+that you may return in an hour."
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+BETWEEN THE LINES
+
+     "Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,
+     To know the number of our enemies."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to me as
+Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite dark.
+
+The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General Morell. In the
+conversation which followed, General Butterfield seemed greatly
+interested, but took no part at all.
+
+General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he said,
+"because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are prudent as
+well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you will get it
+for us."
+
+"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my absence
+is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."
+
+"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he is
+willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is likely to
+remain inactive. I will show you his note."
+
+Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General Grover the
+expression used by General Morell.
+
+"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my best
+for you."
+
+"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you will
+take with you if you wish."
+
+The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread the map.
+I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.
+
+"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you are to
+do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting the point
+of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up here is Hanover
+Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles this side--about this
+spot. You are to get to both places and find out if the enemy is at
+either, or both, and in what force. If he is not at either place, you
+are to move along the railroad in the direction of Richmond, until you
+find the enemy."
+
+"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"
+
+"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg; they
+cross at the Junction."
+
+"Which railroad shall I follow?"
+
+"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn something
+of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if you are
+compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction, you
+need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say less than
+eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get all the knowledge
+you can of his position, his force in all arms, and, if possible, his
+purposes."
+
+"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body, not a mere
+scouting party."
+
+"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or
+foragers."
+
+"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey River," said
+I.
+
+"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which form the
+Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."
+
+"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover Court-House,
+would there be any need for me to go on to the Junction?"
+
+"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time; in
+case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and inform us
+just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if you find no enemy
+at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if you find a small force,
+such as a party of cavalry, you should try to get to the Junction."
+
+"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"
+
+"I can give you four days at the outside."
+
+"Counting to-night?"
+
+"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of the 27th,
+and shall hope to see you earlier."
+
+"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.
+
+"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.
+
+"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to meet?" I
+asked.
+
+"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in that
+case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force of ours
+run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal, better reserve
+your report for me."
+
+"And shall I find you here, sir?"
+
+"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if this
+command moves, I will leave orders for you."
+
+"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"
+
+"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel cavalry from
+the moment when you reach this point," putting his pencil on a spot
+marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in getting around them
+perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover Court-House, and another day to
+the Junction, if you find that you must go there; that gives you two
+days more; but if you find the enemy at the Court-House, you may get
+back in three days."
+
+"Why should I go by Old Church?"
+
+"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end; the
+country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral ground, and you
+would be delayed in going through it."
+
+[Illustration: Map]
+
+"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover
+Court-House?"
+
+"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads and the
+profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to military
+obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force, I mean--look
+into them."
+
+"Well, sir, I am ready."
+
+"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want, mounted or
+afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please have a
+good man to report to me two hours before day."
+
+"Mounted?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations and
+corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."
+
+"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the road to
+Old Church."
+
+"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night, and good
+luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your success will
+justify it."
+
+"Good night, General. I will do my best."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in disguise, and I
+had great doubt what to do; however, I at last compromised matters by
+deciding to take the Confederate uniform to be used in case I should
+need it. A thought occurred to me: "Doctor," said I, "these palmetto
+buttons might prove a bad thing. Suppose I should get into a brigade of
+Georgians occupying some position where there are no other troops; what
+would a Carolinian be doing amongst them?"
+
+"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these buttons
+are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth: all you have
+to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few moments. However,
+nobody would notice your buttons unless you should be within six feet
+of him and in broad daylight."
+
+"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there are more
+Confederates than Carolinians."
+
+The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto buttons
+into my haversack.
+
+Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I studied
+the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray clothing was
+wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the saddle. My escort was
+expected to provide for everything else. I decided to wear a black soft
+hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as big as mine, although he weighed
+about half as much as I did. My own shoes were coarse enough, and of no
+peculiar make. In my pockets I put nothing except a knife, some
+Confederate money, some silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank
+of Hamburg, South Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which
+he insisted on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I
+was a Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.
+
+Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside the
+tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but he was
+already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.
+
+The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.
+
+"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir," said he.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"
+
+"What? My friend of the black horse?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But I believe you are in blue this time."
+
+"Yes; I got no orders."
+
+I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had already had
+occasion to know.
+
+We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine. The
+morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered overhead, and
+Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the handle of the
+Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure that I looked for the
+Pleiades, to count them; they had not risen.
+
+We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops lay in
+bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer; then parks
+of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of wagons, with
+horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met a horseman, but
+nothing was said to him or by him.
+
+Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where nothing
+was seen except fields and woods.
+
+"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"
+
+"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I can
+satisfy them."
+
+At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then returned and
+explained that our post would admit us. We passed a mounted vedette, and
+then went on for a few hundred yards until we came to a crossroad.
+
+"We are at Old Church," said Jones.
+
+"And we have nobody here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take the left
+here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the road."
+
+"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to the
+left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a
+blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had
+nearly risen.
+
+The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant Russell. He
+gave me all the information he could. The right-hand road, by the
+blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek near its mouth, he
+said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River, and at the place where it
+crossed the Pamunkey another road came in, running down the river from
+Hanover Court-House. He was sure that the road which came in was the
+road from Hanover to the ferry at Hanover Old Town; he believed the
+ferry had not yet been destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him
+where the left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road
+to Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
+considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road. This
+also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my hat the
+several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church to Hanover
+Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I could have some
+resource, but I found that I could remember without uncovering.
+
+The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what he knew
+did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if he knew where
+the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are coming and going," said
+he; "one day they will be moving, and then a day will pass without our
+hearing of them. If they have a post anywhere, I don't know it."
+
+"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"
+
+"No--nobody at all," said he.
+
+Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had swallowed our
+breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee. For several reasons I
+thought it best to take the road to the left: first, it was away from
+the river, which the rebels were supposed to be watching closely;
+second, the distance seemed not so great; and, third, it was said to
+traverse a less populous region.
+
+I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided that we
+should ride forward alternately, at least until we should strike the
+crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones, rode forward for
+fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to him to come on. As he
+went by me I told him to continue to advance until he should reach, a
+turn in the road; then he should halt and let me pass him. At the first
+stop he made I saw with pleasure that he had the good judgment to halt
+on the side of the road amongst the bushes. I now rode up to him in
+turn, and paused before passing.
+
+"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And have seen nothing?"
+
+"No, sir; not a thing."
+
+"You understand why we advance in this manner?"
+
+"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both can watch
+for both."
+
+"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the same time;
+one of us might be left to tell the tale."
+
+I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a field was
+seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and I changed
+tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together through the field,
+went on quickly past the house, and on to another thicket, in the edge
+of which we found a school-house; but just before reaching the thicket I
+made Jones follow me at the distance of some forty yards. I had made
+this change of procedure because I had been able to see that there was
+nobody in the stretch of road passing the house, and I thought it better
+for two at once to be exposed to possible view from the house for a
+minute than one each for a minute.
+
+We had not seen a soul.
+
+We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding forward
+for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and alternately thus until
+we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into ours from the southwest. On
+the north of our road, and about two hundred and fifty yards from the
+spot where we had halted, was a farmhouse, which I supposed was the
+Linney house marked on the map. The road at the left, I knew from the
+map, went straight to Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I
+suspected that it was frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We
+remained in hiding at a short distance from the house, and consulted. I
+feared to pass openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the
+house, for discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion
+of the whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably
+be supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and,
+if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great
+probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the nearest
+rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning back. We rode
+down toward Old Church until we came to a forest stretching north of the
+road, which we now left, and made through the woods a circuit of the
+Linney house, and reached the Hanover road again in the low grounds of
+Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no one. The creek bottom was covered with
+forest and dense undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below
+the road, and kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture
+into the open.
+
+It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three miles since
+we had left Old Church.
+
+In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that we must
+run some risk of being seen from four directions at once, or else we
+must flank the crossing.
+
+By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the way
+until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and bidding Jones
+remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up and down, on the
+road. There were houses at my left--some two hundred yards off, and but
+indistinctly seen through the trees--on both sides of the road, but no
+person was visible. Just at my right the road sank between two
+elevations. I went to the hollow and found that from this position the
+houses could not be seen. I went back to Jones, and together we led our
+horses across the road through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly
+away through the woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two
+miles or more beyond the Linney house.
+
+We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts it would
+be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a mile at our
+left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the left and made
+for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we soon reached the
+Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought, of Hanover
+Court-House.
+
+And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear
+oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover
+Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by the
+enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently operated.
+If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction, were seeking to
+get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this would be the road by
+which it would march; this road then, beyond all question, was
+constantly watched, and there was strong probability that rebels were
+kept posted in good positions upon it. But for the fact that I might
+find it necessary to reach the Junction, I should now have gone
+forward afoot.
+
+I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther forward,
+and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to be one, at
+the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from ten o'clock
+until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our gradual approach.
+
+The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we found it
+always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight of the road,
+Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours we went around
+every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we had plenty of time.
+We avoided every habitation, and chose the thickest of the woods and the
+deepest of the hollows, and so conducted our advance that, remarkable as
+it may seem, from the time we left our outposts at Old Church until we
+came in sight of the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a
+human being, though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve
+miles. Of course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had
+been seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to
+keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there
+could tell whether we were friend or enemy.
+
+At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket. While
+we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that resembled
+the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the sound came
+from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of
+McClellan's right.
+
+About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which we
+could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in front of
+us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the open space.
+Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was determined to be prudent.
+The only question was whether we should flank the field at the right or
+at the left. From our point of observation, it seemed to me that the
+field in front stretched sufficiently far in the north to reach the
+Hanover road; if this were true our only course was by the left. To be
+as nearly sure as possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very
+much that I had not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General
+Morrell had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I
+had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should reach the
+ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that the road did go
+through the field and that there were men in the road.
+
+I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not more
+than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They seemed to
+be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking they began to
+move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There were bushes on the
+sides of the road where they were; soon they passed beyond the bushes,
+and I could see that the men were mounted. I watched them until they
+were lost to sight where the road entered the woods beyond. I had
+counted eleven; I supposed there were ten men under command of
+an officer.
+
+It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left. We acted
+with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the corner of the
+field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then put up the gap,
+and rode into the woods on the edge of the field. In some places the
+undergrowth was low, and we feared that our heads might be seen above
+our horses; in such places we dismounted. We passed at a distance one or
+two small houses--not dwellings, we thought, but field barns or cribs.
+At length we reached the western side of the field; we had gained
+greatly in position, though we were but little nearer to Hanover.
+
+We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and that we
+were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a quarter of a
+mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the horses, I crept
+through the woods until I could see the road. It was deserted. I crept
+nearer and nearer until I was almost on its edge; sheltered by the
+bushes I could see a long distance either way. At my left was a house,
+some two hundred yards away and on the far side of the road. I watched
+the house. The men I had seen in the road might have stopped in the
+house; there might be--indeed, there ought to be--an outpost near me,
+and this house would naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing,
+and at last crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced
+again parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the
+house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard in
+front of the house, and even through the house from front to back door;
+it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to seem as though
+the house was an abandoned one, in which case the rebels would likely
+never stop there, unless for water. I saw no well in the yard. There was
+no sign of life.
+
+I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel with
+the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a field in my
+front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the road there was
+another field, the road running between rail fences. I returned to
+Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence of my long absence,
+and we brought the horses up to the spot to which I had advanced. It
+was now about four o'clock, and we had yet three hours of daylight.
+Hanover could not be much more than two miles from us.
+
+The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily wooded
+hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet quite
+unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I asked Jones to
+creep back and observe the place thoroughly.
+
+He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing now," he
+said.
+
+No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into the
+woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in two
+squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward Hanover.
+
+"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went through
+the field?" I asked.
+
+"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would not show
+above the fence," he said.
+
+I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these small
+bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the
+supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had
+passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several attempts
+made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.
+
+No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went to the
+left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the foot of a
+hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I must go
+forward alone.
+
+To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in the creek
+swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a signal.
+
+I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I crossed
+the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the road; it ran
+up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men. Here, I was
+convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there was a line.
+
+A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge of the
+road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east, nearer to me
+than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone on sabres and
+carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry picket-line. I came down
+from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones, and got ready. I told him to
+make himself comfortable for the night, and to wait for me no longer
+than two o'clock the next day. The package containing the gray clothing
+I took with me. I would not put it on until I should see that nothing
+else would do.
+
+And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went forward. I
+had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I should find it to
+be a very long line; if it proved to be a line that I could turn, I
+would go round it, and when on its flank I would act as opportunity
+should offer. If the enemy's force were small, I might see it all from
+the outside; but if it consisted of brigades and divisions, I would put
+on the disguise and throw away my own uniform.
+
+Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were beginning to
+show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had seen the rebel
+picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed, carrying nothing but
+the gray clothes wrapped in the gum-blanket.
+
+The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were no trees.
+At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could hear voices far
+away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices were nearer--or
+louder, possibly.
+
+I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved off at a
+right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line parallel with the
+supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A rabbit sprang up from almost
+under my feet. I was glad that it did not run up the hill. Voices
+continued to come to my ears, but from far away. I supposed that the
+line was more than three hundred yards from me, and that vedettes were
+between us; but for the vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew
+that I was in no great danger so long as the pickets would talk. The
+voices made me sure that these pickets did not feel themselves in the
+presence of an enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of
+cavalry on all the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were
+prepared for attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared
+against observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for
+that. So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively
+safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from
+them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be in
+their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should think of
+him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he should be
+alarmed, I could get away.
+
+So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I struck woods,
+where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on level ground, and I
+could see in the distance the light of camp-fires, between which and me
+I could not doubt were the pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of
+the enemy.
+
+I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on the fires.
+I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it certainly covered
+more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that I were on the north
+side of the road.
+
+The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right. I was
+beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had reached the point
+where the picket-line bent back. I felt encouraged.
+
+I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still
+pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line fronting
+east. Soon I reached another road.
+
+Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could see, into
+the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt one of the main
+roads leading to Hanover Court-House.
+
+I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no camp-fires.
+
+I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.
+
+A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.
+
+I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star through
+the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north and south.
+The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near it, and bent
+back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon cavalry for their
+flank,--and this flank was toward their main army at Richmond,--my work
+would be easy.
+
+I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More cavalry rode
+by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of any
+infantry pickets.
+
+An ambulance went by, going north into camp.
+
+I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out of my
+pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves as well as
+I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes and twisted the
+gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had resolved to accompany
+any ambulance or wagon that should come into the rebel camp.
+
+Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and waited.
+
+Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was now
+convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was protected
+by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left flank of the
+rebel line.
+
+I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I could
+hear the engines puffing.
+
+From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I saw a
+team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the night.
+
+A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and get
+behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another came. As the
+last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent under the feed-box
+which, was slung behind it.
+
+I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE LINES OF HANOVER
+
+     "Our scouts have found the adventure very easy."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I thought, a new
+road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen again, and near by.
+
+The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted. I
+supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere form's
+sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept entirely under
+the body of the wagon.
+
+We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back and was
+walking toward the other end of his beat.
+
+The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an
+encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed clearly
+upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many groups of men;
+some of them were talking noisily; some were singing. It was easy to see
+that these men were in good spirits; they surely had not had a hard
+march that day. For my part, I was beginning to feel very tired; still,
+I knew that excitement would keep me going for this night, and for the
+next day, if need be.
+
+The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to go on
+until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was alone again,
+and with the Confederate forces between Jones and me.
+
+I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that the worst
+was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago, while following
+up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been at any time that
+day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who wore the Southern
+uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part could lose me. I must
+still act cautiously--yet without the appearance of caution; that was a
+more difficult matter.
+
+What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work of
+walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get out of
+these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for any
+other rebel.
+
+But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be accosted
+by some one?
+
+Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be satisfied.
+
+But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what can you
+say?
+
+Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all Georgians,
+and I am a South Carolinian.
+
+The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed my
+imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the place of
+a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier again was
+sudden, violent. I must guard against such transitions.
+
+Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without the
+appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires, by a great
+effort of will dominating my discomposure, and determining to play the
+Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I would go to the men; would
+talk to them when necessary; would count their tents and their stacks of
+arms if possible; would learn, as soon as I could, the name of some
+regiment, so that if I were questioned I could answer.
+
+But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate answer,
+and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you say?
+
+I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could prompt
+such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to suspect my
+being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect that one of these
+men was a Union soldier.
+
+I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook me,
+each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me without
+speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near them--and
+went with them to their company. I stood by in the light of the fires
+while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while they put the
+canteens on the ground, and their respective owners came and got them.
+The men did not speak to me.
+
+I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they certainly
+ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready for action, but,
+instead, they were here in tents and without any preparation against
+surprise, so far as I could see, except the cavalry pickets thrown out
+on the roads. If they had been in line, it would have been easy for me
+to estimate the number of bayonets in the line of stacked arms; I was
+greatly disappointed. The tents seemed to me too few for the numbers of
+men who were at the camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on
+their blankets in the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild
+weather, preferred to sleep outside of the crowded tents.
+
+Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to know, I
+sat down.
+
+One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.
+
+"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should carry
+some tobacco.
+
+"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.
+
+The petitioner refused to reply.
+
+A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a square of
+tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off a very small
+portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in silence at this act,
+which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One of them winked at me. I
+inferred that the large man intended a rebuke to his comrade for
+begging from a stranger. The large man went back and sat down.
+
+"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"
+
+"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.
+
+There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of all were
+upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of character and
+influence, though but a private. He turned to me.
+
+"You are tired," he said.
+
+I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted me, so
+that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had returned. The
+look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it was sympathetic. He
+was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me might shield me from the
+curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they were feeling interest of any
+sort in me. I had been fearing that some one would ask me my regiment.
+
+"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next fire.
+
+Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common saying
+with homesick soldiers.
+
+I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me. Perhaps I was
+thought a friend of one of the men who had brought the water; perhaps
+nobody thought anything, or cared anything, about me. Although I felt
+helpless, I would remain.
+
+A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of my hand.
+The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled; accident had
+helped me--had given me a plan.
+
+I turned the letter over. The address was:--
+
+     PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,
+       _Co. G, 7th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Gordonsville, Va._
+
+I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the street. The
+act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me entirely natural, but
+it was the best I could do; these men, I hoped, would merely think me
+an oddity.
+
+In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I saw.
+
+"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.
+
+"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.
+
+"What regiment is this?"
+
+"Our'n," said he.
+
+"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.
+
+"This is the Thirty-third," said another.
+
+I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached another
+group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward the left. I
+followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Hello, Jim! where
+are you going?"
+
+He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to hello; but
+my name's not Jim."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what regiment
+is this?"
+
+"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another word.
+
+The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the Thirty-third and
+Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all of Branch's regiments
+were from one State. I was supposed to belong to the brigade; it was
+needless to tell me the name of the State from which my regiment--from
+which all the regiments--came. Had the brigade been a mixed one, the men
+would have said, "Thirty-third North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North
+Carolina"; that they did not trouble themselves with giving the name of
+their State was strong reason for believing that all the regiments, as I
+knew the Seventh to be, were from North Carolina.
+
+I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes, which I
+thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten o'clock. The men
+had become silent; but few were sitting at the fires. I believed I had
+sufficient information as to the composition of the brigade, but I had
+learned little as to its strength. I knew that there were five streets
+in the encampment, and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how
+many men were in the brigade?
+
+Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents, which I took
+for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street was a wall-tent,
+which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of the encampment of
+tents, and separated from the encampment by a space of a hundred yards,
+perhaps, was a line of brighter fires than now showed in the streets.
+The dying out of the fires in the streets was what called my attention,
+by contrast, to these brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires;
+to my surprise I found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the
+nearest fire, and found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.
+
+"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said one.
+
+"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.
+
+"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.
+
+"No; do you?"
+
+"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's down
+that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with canteens.
+You are mighty late getting supper."
+
+"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin', an'
+they jest now got back an' let us loose."
+
+"What duty were you on?"
+
+"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time, but we
+went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that water o'
+yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a mile."
+
+"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you how to
+find it."
+
+"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git started
+right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."
+
+"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past General
+Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old field,
+and--let me see; what regiment is this?"
+
+"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no
+tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no
+tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I rather
+like it."
+
+"Well, wher's your water?"
+
+"You know where the old field is?"
+
+"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know anything."
+
+"You know headquarters?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the old
+field"
+
+The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with his
+messmate.
+
+"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a battery
+with the brigade in a week."
+
+"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.
+
+"Off on duty," said I.
+
+"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed with your
+comp'ny an' not ha' seed it _then_; you hain't seed it becaze it ain't
+for to be saw. They're put it away back yander."
+
+"How many guns?"
+
+"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em, myself."
+
+"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were guarding
+the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do its own
+guard duty."
+
+"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house down _by_
+the battery."
+
+"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."
+
+"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."
+
+"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"
+
+"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it Branch's
+battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's regiment
+Branch's, too."
+
+"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"
+
+"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's regiment,
+by a long shot."
+
+"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a venture.
+
+"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the Junction
+now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say so
+this mornin'."
+
+"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference between the
+Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North Carolina.
+
+The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk almost
+ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began tearing it into
+little bits, which I threw into the fire one by one, pretending mere
+abstraction.
+
+The envelope had borne the address:--
+
+     CAPTAIN GEORGE B. JOHNSTON,
+       _Co. G, 28th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Hanover C.H., Va_.
+
+I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G. Morrow, of
+the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A third bore the
+address:--
+
+      CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE,
+      _Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,_
+      _Gordonsville, Va._
+
+More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of privates,
+corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth, others of the
+Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One envelope had no address.
+Another gave me the name of Col. James H. Lane, but no regiment.
+
+"Time your friend was getting back," said I.
+
+"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd ahead of
+him."
+
+"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven or eight
+hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"
+
+"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"
+
+"Eighty-two," he said.
+
+The other man returned from the spring.
+
+"Know what I heerd?" he asked.
+
+"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.
+
+"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina was here
+summers."
+
+"Well, maybe it is."
+
+"I got it mighty straight."
+
+"How did you hear it?" I asked.
+
+"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had jest
+come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from here"
+
+"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,
+
+"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.
+
+"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."
+
+My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was Branch's
+command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one from Georgia,
+and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed to be near by. What
+more need I know? I must learn the strength of the force; I must get
+corroboration. The man with whom I had talked might be wrong on some
+point. I considered my friend's opinion correct concerning Branch's
+purpose. The Confederate force was put here to protect the railroad.
+From the envelopes I had learned that Branch's brigade had recently been
+at Gordonsville; it was clear that it had left Gordonsville in order to
+place itself between Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's
+army at Richmond, and thus preserve communications. Branch had been
+reënforced by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and
+seemingly on this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that
+General Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
+last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not trouble
+myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
+corroboration and knowledge of numbers.
+
+The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight formality
+to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek the path to the
+spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be going for water all night
+long, especially as there seemed little of it near by. By getting near
+the spring I should also be able, perhaps, to determine the position of
+the wagons; I had decided to attempt going out of these lines in the
+manner of my entering them, if I could but find a wagon going
+before daylight.
+
+It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a spring
+after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself by the side
+of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of empty canteens and
+the footsteps of a man; I started to meet him.
+
+"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"
+
+"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."
+
+"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."
+
+"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."
+
+"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if I did;
+you've hit it!"
+
+"What regiment do you belong to?"
+
+"Thirty-seventh."
+
+"Is that Colonel Lane's?"
+
+"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our colonel."
+
+"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh,"
+
+"That's Campbell's," said he.
+
+"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I, sitting
+down while the man should fill his canteens.
+
+"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.
+
+"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more are
+coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and is
+under Branch."
+
+"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.
+
+"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.
+
+"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"
+
+"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."
+
+"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old Twenty-eighth
+is a whopper--a thousand men."
+
+I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran down
+the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade ort to have
+a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with himself for
+discovering something like a pun or two.
+
+For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, with
+this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I should linger
+at the water, he might think my conduct strange.
+
+Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, venturing the
+remark that these two new regiments made Branch's brigade a very
+big one.
+
+"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us forever."
+
+"Wonder where they came from," said I.
+
+"Too hard for _me_," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; the
+Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."
+
+We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop here,"
+said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
+branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
+his way.
+
+And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to stay at
+one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I should be
+stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the fires of the
+Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and lay down. But I
+found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the experience and the
+danger of the situation drove sleep as far from me as the east is from
+the west. I believe that in romances it is the proper thing to say that
+a man in trying situations sleeps the sleep of the infant; but this is
+not romance. I could not sleep.
+
+Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself and sat
+up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no conversation
+with him; I was afraid he might question me too closely, and that my
+replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I kept quiet; I knew
+enough--too much to risk losing.
+
+Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become aware of a
+foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears were confirmed. He
+opened his mouth and said, "Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance
+was an assertion rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He
+continued to look at me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and
+went to sleep.
+
+To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and made my
+way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear. It must have
+been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished feeding their
+mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their teams; then, with much
+shouting and rattling of harness, they moved off. I stole along beside
+the second wagon for some distance, and had almost decided to climb into
+it from behind when I thought that possibly some one was in it. There
+seemed little danger in going out behind the wagons, especially as there
+was no light of day as yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets
+on the road would be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and
+although, too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
+cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my plan
+was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.
+
+When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about the spot,
+as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other wagons on the
+preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on the left of
+the road.
+
+The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at twenty
+paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution must be more
+than ever my guide; now that I had information of great value, it would
+not do to risk capture.
+
+For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, intently
+listening for the least sound which might convince me whether I was on
+the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that I was yet in rear of
+the Confederate pickets. The east was now clearly defined, so that my
+course was easy to choose--a northeasterly course, which I knew was very
+nearly the exact direction to the spot where I had left Jones.
+
+At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every yard was
+increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and rendering
+probability greater in my favour; I surely must be already in front of
+any possible picket-line.
+
+The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going a
+hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I examined
+the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I saw before me a
+fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal some vedette. Yet, if
+it did, the sentinel should be on my side of the tree. I stood for a few
+moments, intently searching it with my eyes. It was not more than
+fifteen yards from me, and directly in my course. At last, seeing
+nothing, I sprang quickly and was just about to lie down behind it, when
+a man rose from its other side. I did not lie down. He looked at me; I
+looked at him. He was unarmed. We were about eight feet apart. He began
+to recoil. There was light sufficient to enable me to tell from his
+dress that he was a rebel. Of course he would think me a Confederate. I
+stepped over the log.
+
+"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; "why are
+you not with your regiment?"
+
+He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the ground.
+
+"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.
+
+He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."
+
+"What do you mean by being here at all?"
+
+"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to sleep here,
+waiting for day."
+
+"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your
+regiment?"
+
+"The Seventh," he replied.
+
+"And your brigade?"
+
+He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made an
+unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure another
+corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought I could
+perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you know that
+troops have come up in the night? What brigade is yours?"
+
+"Branch's," he said.
+
+"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I, pointing
+to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well pleased to be quit
+at so cheap a cost.
+
+Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged through
+the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute without
+pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face; again I had
+felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too violent transition
+of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar condition which pressed me
+to prolonged and unguarded energy. I went through thicket and brier
+patch, over logs and gullies, and when I paused I knew not where I was.
+
+After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly direction
+so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more to the north; I
+changed my course then, bending toward the north, and before sunrise
+reached the creek which, on the preceding night, I had crossed after
+leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was above me or below, so I
+crossed the stream at the place where I struck it, and went straight
+away from it through the swamp.
+
+After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing my
+course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there was
+no response.
+
+No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My present
+course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I should get
+farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume any direction as
+the right one, I should be likely to have guessed wrong. I spent an hour
+working my way laboriously through the swamp, making wide and wider
+sweeps to reach some opening or some tree on higher ground. At last I
+saw open ground on my left. I went rapidly to it, and found a field,
+with a fence separating it from the woods,--the fence running east and
+west,--and saw, several hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the
+field at which I had stationed Jones.
+
+At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As I came
+near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting on the
+ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I was in his
+rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses; he sprang
+quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the muzzle of his
+gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and Jones advanced,
+frightened.
+
+"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why didn't you
+signal sooner?"
+
+"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I am glad
+to see you so watchful."
+
+"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he; "what have
+you done with your other clothes?"
+
+"Had to throw them away."
+
+"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you are--and
+from that direction."
+
+This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate standing with
+a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels, I had felt no
+visible contrast with them. Since I had left the wagon I had had no time
+for thought of personal appearance. Now I looked at myself. My hands
+were scratched with briers; my hat was torn; a great hole was over one
+knee, which I had used most in crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having
+been more rapid than cautious in crossing the creek. For more than
+twenty-four hours my mind had been on too great a strain to think of the
+body. By the side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general
+questioning an uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.
+
+"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The horses
+have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I need one, but
+it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to know."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route which we had
+followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones the position and
+force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken and he left, he could
+report to General Morell. We avoided the fields and roads, and stuck to
+the woods, keeping a sharp lookout ahead, but going rapidly. At the
+first water which we saw I took time to give my head a good souse.
+
+Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above Crump's
+Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at our left,
+seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I crept toward the
+road until I could see part of it winding over the hill. About
+twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they numbered just
+twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going at a gallop up the
+hill, and apparently excited--running from danger, I thought. They
+disappeared over the hill. I thought it quite likely that some of our
+cavalry were advancing on the road, and that it would be well for me to
+wait where I was; if I should go back and call Jones to come, our men
+might pass while I was gone.
+
+In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow walk,
+another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were armed with
+lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I remembered much talk in
+the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment of lancers.
+
+As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I boldly
+left my place of concealment and walked out into the road. The cavalry
+halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I shall here call
+Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode out a little to the
+front of his men, and said, "So you have given it up?"
+
+"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of it."
+
+"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up behind one
+of my men. We want you."
+
+For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road before their
+eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain cried out, "Here,
+Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the rear!"
+
+"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades is near
+by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he interrupted me,
+crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your comrades. No more
+from you, sir!"
+
+As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant and
+detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the sergeant,
+but he refused to hear me.
+
+This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a short
+while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not understood
+from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct duty that I had
+not once thought of my pretended character. For his part, the captain
+had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter coming into the Union
+lines. This was now simple enough, but why, under such circumstances, he
+had not questioned me in regard to what was in his front, I could not at
+all understand. I tried again to speak, but was commanded to be silent.
+
+This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only serious
+consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he would wait for me
+indefinitely, and would be captured. Although such a result could bring
+no blame to me, yet I was very anxious about him. Concerning myself, I
+knew that I could suffer restraint but a very short time; just so soon
+as I could get speech with any officer willing to listen, I should be
+set right.
+
+The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's shop,
+some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought before Colonel
+Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry regiments which had
+advanced from Old Church on that morning.
+
+Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the regiments were
+under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported that I was a
+Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry had found in the
+woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded, and began to
+question me.
+
+"When did you leave your regiment?"
+
+"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.
+
+"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be sure
+that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"
+
+"The 24th, I think, sir."
+
+"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"
+
+"From what place, Colonel?"
+
+"Why, from Hanover."
+
+"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."
+
+"What is your regiment?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."
+
+The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his
+countenance.
+
+"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man, Sergeant?"
+
+The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, Colonel. I
+only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried to talk to
+Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send him back
+at once."
+
+"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a smile.
+
+"Then what are you doing here?"
+
+"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."
+
+"But what were you doing when you were captured?"
+
+"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the lancers, I
+was returning from a scout."
+
+"What brigade do you belong to?"
+
+"General Grover's."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"General Hooker's."
+
+"Where is your regiment now?"
+
+"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was there on
+the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."
+
+The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate deserter; he
+was beginning to believe my story; his tone altered.
+
+"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"
+
+"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was just
+returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but they would
+not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would not let me speak."
+
+The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you are a
+Union soldier?"
+
+"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to carry
+anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to General Morell."
+
+"Where is General Morell?"
+
+"On the reserve line near New Bridge."
+
+"Why send you to General Morell?"
+
+"Because I must make my report to him."
+
+"Did he send you out?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to General
+Morell?"
+
+"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about, but it is
+perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to General Morell,
+the whole matter will be cleared up to your satisfaction. I beg you to
+do so at once. I know that General Morell will consider my report
+important, and will be disappointed if it should be delayed, sir."
+
+"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your person. I
+shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim you and
+justify your claims."
+
+"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and what would
+you do with me?"
+
+"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say you are
+not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not need you."
+
+"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come
+voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"
+
+"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union man, but
+you cannot prove it."
+
+"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General Morell, I
+beg that you at once send back for my companion."
+
+"What companion?"
+
+"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany me. He
+is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our horses, and
+I fear he will wait too long for me, and be captured."
+
+"By the lancers?"
+
+"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."
+
+"But why did you not tell me this before?"
+
+"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General Morell; you
+refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify me to you; but
+time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."
+
+Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who at once
+went off, accompanied by his two men.
+
+"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the colonel.
+
+"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."
+
+"But if I order you to report to me?"
+
+"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"
+
+"What has that got to do with it?"
+
+"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to betray his
+cause," said I.
+
+"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.
+
+"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one, after
+having reached safety?"
+
+"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been lost, and
+if so you are properly a prisoner of war."
+
+"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition of the
+Union army?"
+
+"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the benefit
+of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the presence of
+the enemy."
+
+"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our advanced
+troops should be in any danger."
+
+"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking a small
+force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's nest."
+
+"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."
+
+"What force is in our front?"
+
+"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery. There are
+cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."
+
+"And where are they?"
+
+"The cavalry?"
+
+"The whole force of which you speak."
+
+"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day this
+morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."
+
+"Do you know who commands them?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"General Branch."
+
+"Did you see him?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How then do you know that he is in command?"
+
+"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not know that
+General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know that the
+troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."
+
+"How did you learn it? A man told you?"
+
+"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."
+
+"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.
+
+I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers. It was
+easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I was telling
+the truth.
+
+In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and
+accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once handed
+the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in little more than
+two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and made my report.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with valuable
+results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not moved, and
+that he would gladly send a statement of my work to General Grover, and
+would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme until actually ordered
+back to the left. He then told me to go back to my quarters and rest;
+that I must get all the rest I could, and as quickly as possible.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me, to shield
+my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon at Dr. Khayme's
+tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing off the hot blanket.
+Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised her hands; in an instant
+she sat again, trembling. She was very white.
+
+"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you: Father
+prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at the
+earliest." She was still all a-tremble.
+
+"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide from all
+eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the Doctor?"
+
+"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is; he said
+he should be back to supper."
+
+Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have had hard
+work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to know what
+success you have had."
+
+"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.
+
+"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.
+
+"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all night
+with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to learn."
+
+"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest till he
+comes, although I should like to hear all about it."
+
+"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be plain
+with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with all the
+clothes I've got."
+
+She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You need rest,
+though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get some sleep."
+
+When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would not
+come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand open the
+tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and saw my name on
+the package, which proved to contain a new uniform. I dressed and went
+out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking supper. I asked him who gave
+him the package he had put into the tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done
+sont me wid a note to de ginnle en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en'
+dat man he gimme de bunnle."
+
+The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a detailed
+account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with interest as I talked,
+and Lydia saying not a word.
+
+When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for her
+interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I was trying
+to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new
+uniform, Doctor?"
+
+"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her father.
+
+Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and torn--that I
+pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not knowing what else
+to do."
+
+"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the
+conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack Built."
+
+"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the note. I am
+thinking that I'll become a collector of autographs."
+
+"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the log,
+come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he was trying
+to desert?"
+
+"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered with him.
+Speed was what I wanted just then."
+
+"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he can come."
+
+"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said Lydia;
+"if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray us?"
+
+"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the simple
+truth," said the Doctor.
+
+"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had accepted
+his company."
+
+"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain Lewis,"--the
+Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by his name,--"in
+talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your voice loud enough
+for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved you at once."
+
+"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at all.
+Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones would have
+settled matters."
+
+"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you were
+Roderick Dhu."
+
+"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact, all
+those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect that the
+captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command in front of
+Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and that he blustered to
+hide his scare."
+
+It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The Doctor had
+smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not fill it again.
+He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have done a good day's
+work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched between two days. General
+Morell ought to reward you."
+
+"I do not want any reward," said I.
+
+"You would not like a commission?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.
+
+"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to you in
+many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be really
+lighter, but you would command more respect from others. That captain of
+the lancers will not think of apologizing to you; but if he knew you as
+Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to write you a note. If promotion
+is offered you,--and it ought to be offered,--you ought not to
+refuse it."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that way."
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BATTLE OF HANOVER
+
+     "The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.
+     Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
+     By diligent discovery; but your haste
+     Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General Morell.
+
+"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard work.
+Have you had a good rest?"
+
+I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I had
+suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.
+
+"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you must help
+me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn will come,
+too, some day."
+
+"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"
+
+"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been fully
+corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some six to ten
+regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or was there last
+night, and is supposed to be there now. A division of this army will
+march against Branch. Now I will show you what you must do for us.
+Here," pointing on the map to a road running south, along the railroad
+from Hanover Court-House, "here you see the road you were on with the
+wagons. At this point--a mile and a half or two miles southeast of
+Hanover--is the road running down the river--the road you followed after
+crossing Crump's Creek. The force which will march against Branch will
+be sufficient to crush him, and we must prevent him from escaping in
+the direction of Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on
+his right. Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--_his_
+right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into the
+Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should simply drive
+him toward Richmond."
+
+"Yes, sir; I see," said I.
+
+"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and nearer
+Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a considerable
+distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he has been put where
+he is for the purpose of observing our right and rear until he is
+reënforced. On the 23d, we occupied Mechanicsville, and our possession
+of that place may have so interfered with or so threatened Branch's
+plans that he will make some movement. The truth is, to be frank with
+you, he is in a false position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction
+at once and unite there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march
+from Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
+army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want you to
+understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you, and because I
+think I can trust you."
+
+"Well, General?"
+
+"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do in a
+critical moment."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our attack
+should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover Court-House, and
+find that the rebels have left that place and have moved further south,
+we shall be attacking their left instead of their right, and they can
+retreat toward Richmond. In case they have moved south, we must not
+march on the Court-House; we must attack their right, wherever that may
+be. Now, that is what you must do for us: find out where Branch's right
+flank rests before we make the attack."
+
+"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"When do you march, General?"
+
+"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You will have
+to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next day."
+
+"I can see one thing, General."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of its moving
+after I report."
+
+"Very well; hang to it."
+
+"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I do hang
+to it."
+
+"As much help as you want."
+
+"Have you another man as good as Jones?"
+
+"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"
+
+"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be thoroughly
+depended upon."
+
+"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you want, and
+anything else that you want--speak out."
+
+"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for you,
+General?"
+
+"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of Branch!"
+
+"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is Jones
+and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be found, I want
+only Jones."
+
+"What would be your plans?"
+
+"I should report by the third man the first information of importance;
+then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang to it myself, and
+report if it moves. You will need to know where Branch's right is at the
+moment when you are ready to strike--not where it was an hour before."
+
+"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be found."
+
+"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such a man.
+He might get himself caught and endanger your whole plan."
+
+"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I must tell
+you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the movement. Warren is
+now at Old Church; he will march by the road that you were on yesterday,
+while we march upon roads at his left. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"Then that is all."
+
+"May I say a word, General?"
+
+"Yes; certainly."
+
+"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a shorter
+distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement before they
+know of yours, they will almost be sure to change position."
+
+"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed not to
+attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to General
+Porter again about this."
+
+"Can I see Jones, General?"
+
+"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, sir."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"After breakfast."
+
+"Can you think of nothing else you need?"
+
+"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."
+
+"Nothing else?"
+
+"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about that, but
+I know that Dr. Khayme has none."
+
+"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.
+
+"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I could not
+help him."
+
+"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet laughing.
+
+"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for it."
+
+"Well, I'll send it through Jones."
+
+"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."
+
+"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own, or
+rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."
+
+"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there anything
+about it to betray me?"
+
+"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you have
+thought of everything?"
+
+"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind before we
+start, I'll let you know."
+
+"Be sure to do it."
+
+Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man named Frank
+were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I learned, was
+chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones what we should
+need, and he promised to be ready.
+
+In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia sat
+silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left wing had
+crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried to start an
+argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by war, but meeting no
+encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is that I needed rest and
+sleep. When the Doctor had had his first smoke, Lydia rose and took his
+pipe from him. "We must tell Mr. Berwick good night, Father. He has work
+to do to-morrow."
+
+The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia was
+right. Lydia did not laugh.
+
+Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly refreshed.
+While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in with me, Jones and
+Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and we soon were off.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across the
+Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and work our
+way toward the Confederate right and rear.
+
+We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far above the
+place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and then took to the
+woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had ascertained from the
+map, was at the west of the railroad. We were now on neutral ground. The
+usual order of our advance was Jones in the lead, I following him at not
+more than forty yards, and Frank coming behind me at more than twice
+that distance. Jones was directed to halt and ride back every time that
+he should see anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have
+occasion to observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
+Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
+order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
+fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he waved
+his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I had pulled
+up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke in front."
+
+I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no noise,
+but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees, which, he
+said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was directed to
+dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn what caused it.
+He returned very soon, and said there was a house in a small field just
+before us, and that a wide road ran in front of the house. We made a
+detour and passed on.
+
+About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the road, as
+I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about halfway between
+Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across the Chickahominy, and
+still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of one of its branches. We
+crossed the road, selecting a place where there were two sudden bends,
+and looking well both ways before venturing. After crossing, I directed
+Jones to take his stand near the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road
+from the upper bend, while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had
+made in crossing the road. We were now within less than a mile of the
+Virginia Central railroad.
+
+I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went with Jones
+toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or rather as far from it
+as he could be and yet see it. Then I returned to Frank and took his
+place, directing him to find Jones and then occupy a position as nearly
+as possible halfway between Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect
+me with Jones and to care for the three horses, which were brought
+together in the centre lest they should be heard. We were now in
+position to observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
+Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
+the night.
+
+From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for half
+the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of course, that I
+could hear the trains. Rain had set in at nightfall.
+
+About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up the road.
+I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, I could make
+out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a company. I concluded
+that the rebels were to the north of us, that is to say, that if they
+had moved at all, they were yet between us and Hanover Court-House.
+
+After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much more
+definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones. The three
+of us then made north, through the woods, leading our horses. We had a
+hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the trees struck our
+faces. There was hardly enough light to see the trunks of the trees. At
+last we reached an opening through which I feared to advance.
+
+We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The rebels were
+yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might be anywhere--might
+be upon us at any moment.
+
+Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to find
+that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the north. I
+returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road and continued
+north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half a mile. It was now
+nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods on this dark night there
+was little fear of encountering any enemy; their cavalry pickets would
+be in the roads.
+
+I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles from us,
+and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we ought soon to see
+the light of his camp-fires.
+
+Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us. I
+directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his
+horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I went forward on foot,
+Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At the bottom of the hill I
+found a small stream. Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and
+all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the
+open. At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small
+pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this
+thicket I saw more open ground before me. I went back, hoping to find my
+comrades at the branch. As I went down the hill I heard them coming down
+the opposite slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the
+horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
+and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.
+
+The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them
+from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as
+the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few
+hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly
+half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but
+narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could
+see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by
+camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable
+distance--perhaps more than a mile away.
+
+Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the road was
+only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with woods on the
+other side of it, and that on our right there was nothing but a wood
+which extended to a swamp.
+
+Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they rolled
+themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine bush. The
+rain was pouring down.
+
+At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our way across
+the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would soon, wash out
+all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved southward some
+miles, increasing his distance from the Pamunkey.
+
+We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our forces again.
+Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and Frank in the centre.
+We moved northward, stopping every hundred yards or so, to be certain
+that our communications were intact. Jones was so near the railroad that
+I began to think the train of cars I had heard running had not been on
+the Central, but farther away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in
+this place runs almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the
+westward. In the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a
+greater distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me
+suspect that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for
+we should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
+decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
+toward the rear of the enemy's camp.
+
+It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the railroad. We
+still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad at our right at
+distances varying from one hundred to three hundred yards. We ascended a
+low hill, from which there might have been a good lookout but for the
+rain. I used General Morell's glass, but could not make out anything
+in front.
+
+Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than half a
+mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets must be very
+near to us.
+
+Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men keep a
+close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness to bring me
+my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the possibility of detection
+and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I found at the bottom of it a small
+brook flowing northeastward, and changed my course at once to suit the
+stream. I went slowly and cautiously on through weeds and bushes,
+sometimes wading down the stream itself, the water being already very
+muddy from the rains, and at last, while bending to right and left and
+up and down seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
+infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing south,
+and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west side of the
+railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved from Hanover
+Court-House, or else that here was another body of men who had taken
+position on his right.
+
+Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the hill, and
+directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to General Morell or
+General Porter, who would no doubt be met advancing on the road, and
+report that the enemy had taken such a position that in order to reach
+his right flank it would be necessary for the Union troops to cross to
+the west side of the Central railroad some miles south of Hanover
+Court-House. I directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch
+had really moved or had been reënforced, and to say that I should
+endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
+through Jones.
+
+Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.
+
+I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw that
+all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to sentiment.
+
+My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket, with which
+I had been covered all night as a protection from the rain. I took
+nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed Jones to remain where
+he was, and if I should not return in one hour, to conclude that I was
+entangled with the enemy, and that I could not get away in time; that he
+must assume from my absence that the rebel right extended far, because
+if it did not I should return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must
+start to meet our advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber
+himself with my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in
+the day. I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before
+the advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
+upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell before
+dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended the situation,
+and promised to follow my instructions.
+
+Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette; he was
+yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore, stretched across the
+branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a gully which favoured me,
+and crept to my left up the hill. At the top of the hill I entered
+thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and looked and listened. Drums
+could be heard toward the north, and seemingly nearer than before; I
+thought I could hear the long roll, and feared that the Union advance
+was already known by the Confederates.
+
+Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very slowly.
+My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in it, folded
+and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was already wet. Again I
+went forward slowly. Soon I saw another vedette, facing south. I
+retired, and made progress rapidly through the woods to my left; then I
+crawled up a long distance. I had hoped to be able to determine the
+right of the enemy's pickets and then return to Jones and send him with
+my report, while I should remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops
+when Jones should have succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found
+the pickets posted in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a
+very difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
+Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a prudent
+approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I would retreat
+through the woods until I was out of danger; then I would go fifty or a
+hundred yards to my left, and approach, again on my hands and knees
+until I discovered a man, when I would retreat again, and so on
+alternately. At one place I saw the picket-line itself stretching across
+the top of an open hill, with the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the
+hollow in front. I was compelled to go almost entirely around a field,
+taking a back track for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward
+again on the west side of the field.
+
+About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped in one
+respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more alert, and I
+felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the line. I made
+another advance, and this time continued advancing, for to my
+gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in front of me. I
+thought at first that it had been thrown back here, and that I was now
+going along the western front.
+
+To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went perhaps three
+hundred yards without finding anything, and felt convinced that there
+was no western front to the rebel line. I continued to advance eastward,
+going straight toward the railroad. At length I had gone a quarter of a
+mile, and had found nothing.
+
+Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been withdrawn
+while I was going around the field, and I conjectured that the
+Confederates had become aware of the approach of our column, and had
+retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our advancing troops.
+
+Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
+southeasterly direction.
+
+For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be well to
+state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the cavalry under
+General Emory, at the head of our column, and had reported to him as
+well as to General Morell; and that our column had advanced by the road
+we had left, had thrown out a skirmish-line which extended beyond the
+railroad, but not far enough, and had continued to advance until the
+enemy were felt.
+
+The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were of
+Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning of the
+battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.
+
+At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North Carolina
+under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head of Crump's
+Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column, which had thus
+interposed, without knowing it, between the two bodies of Confederates.
+At the first warning of the Union advance, General Branch had formed his
+troops facing the east and southeast, and covering the Ashcake road,
+which runs in a sort of semicircle from the Hanover road to Ashland on
+the west, so that the attack of the Union forces against the main body
+of rebels merely forced them to give ground in the direction of Ashland.
+Lane, at Taliaferro's Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did
+later in the afternoon with considerable loss.
+
+Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having moved
+somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our troops. I soon
+became aware of this fact by seeing straggling Confederate soldiers in
+the woods in several directions; some of them seemed to be wounded.
+
+Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this time it
+was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of battle were
+advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me, giving me no
+attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining still, however,
+but walking about in the woods in order to prevent the possibility of
+being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited the issue.
+
+Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I began to
+fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.
+
+An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a southeasterly
+direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring to throw a force in
+the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on nearly to Hanover
+Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment, leaving Branch on their left
+flank and in position to do great damage[2]. Branch attacked vigorously,
+but was eventually forced back. Again men began to rush by me, and this
+time some of them were in actual flight. There were many wounded;
+gradually the woods were scattered over with a regiment or two, the
+troops showing various degrees of disorganization, some of the companies
+holding together and retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups,
+were making their way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet
+all in the same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
+rallying-place.
+
+[2] On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's brigade.
+The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the Pamunkey, no
+doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating northward. Lane
+was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch for some days; the
+story of his retreat and return to Branch is very interesting. [ED.]
+
+Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I decided
+quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for me to remain
+an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I thought, too, that
+it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out of this mass of men by
+going in a northerly or southerly direction, either of which would be
+taking them in line, if they could be said to have a line. I saw, of
+course, that if I should simply stop--it would have been easy to play
+the wounded Confederate--the Union troops would soon pick me up; but I
+wanted to see where the defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly
+wounded, I suppose, threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up
+the gun--an Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to
+me, the disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
+stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw away. I
+soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my own
+canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the rebels--I
+became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.
+
+No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen. The
+Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon make a
+stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the contagion and
+ran along with running men, although I was sure that organised bodies
+were now covering our rear. I had no distinct purpose except to
+determine the new line.
+
+After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of the
+scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding about and
+trying to make the men get into some sort of formation. Evening was
+near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me the brigade would
+be formed again and would make a new stand, or else retreat in better
+order in the night.
+
+I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but felt
+confident that Jones would recover him.
+
+As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at last
+ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line across a
+road running to the westward, which I believed, from my knowledge of the
+map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this forming line I
+hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make no pretence of
+joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far from it. Then the
+thought came to me that these disorganized battalions ware forming in
+any shape they could now take--men belonging to different companies,
+and even to different regiments, being side by side; so I got into line
+with them.
+
+I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a spy
+might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.
+
+The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the soldier, but
+they were very bitter against some general or other unknown to me, and
+equally so to them, as it appeared; he had allowed them to be defeated
+when they could easily have been reënforced. From the talk which I heard
+I drew the inference that there was a large force of Confederates within
+supporting distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me
+so greatly that I determined to remain longer with these troops--perhaps
+even until the next day.
+
+It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I could
+see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road to
+Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not see it;
+but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still unbroken,
+under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It would have been
+very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time, either to the right
+or to the left, into the woods--or into open ground for that matter--and
+get away, but such was not now my intention.
+
+The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while on the
+march to find their respective regiments and companies. Mounted
+men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying out: "Flag of
+Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is behind you," and so
+on, thus telling the men where to find their commands. It was really
+good work, I thought. A little before midnight--or it may have been much
+earlier, for I was well-nigh worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads
+which I afterward knew to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond
+roads about a mile and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men
+could easily find their commands, and I knew that perfect organization
+would be effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
+formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.
+
+By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east for
+perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first spreading
+my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted almost to
+exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my predecessor's
+haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food, and slept soundly the
+remainder of the night.
+
+At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I found in
+the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my gun and
+accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three bands; the
+cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single waist-belt, the
+scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no bayonet. The brass plate
+on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S. plate; the belt-buckle also
+was Federal; both plate and buckle had been turned upside down, so that
+each bore the inverted letters S U. There were a few cartridges in the
+box--such cartridges as I had not seen before. I found that the rifle
+was not loaded, and I allowed it to remain empty.
+
+After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had gone. I
+examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud were pointing
+toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time openly in the road,
+for I was as good a Confederate as need be unless I should be overtaken
+by any of our own men. I considered now that this force of the enemy was
+likely to establish connection at once with the main Confederate lines
+near Richmond, if indeed it had not already done so, and that if I
+should turn southward I should be in danger of being forced into the
+ranks and questioned, so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine
+if possible the left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme
+left of the whole Confederate army.
+
+In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of the
+village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an hour after
+sunrise placed myself in observation between the Fredericksburg railroad
+and the Richmond road, which here run parallel due north and about half
+a mile apart. I was facing south.
+
+About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the rear of
+my left the Richmond road full of troops marching southward. I crawled
+up as near to the road as I dared, and watched them. There seemed to be
+but one regiment, which was a large one. Three or four officers rode at
+the head of the regiment; one, who I supposed was the colonel, was a
+large, heavy-built man who sat his horse proudly[3]. The men marched at
+the route step; the regiment was in fine order. In the centre were two
+flags: one an ordinary Confederate battle-flag; the other an immense
+blue banner, emblazoned with the silver palmetto tree. I could not tell
+the number of the regiment, although by this time I had my glass fixed
+on the flag. The Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed,
+entered Ashland.
+
+[3] Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
+Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina. [Ed.]
+
+I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained in this
+position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement. At nightfall I
+crept up nearer to the village and found a comfortable resting-place in
+an old haystack, east of the place.
+
+The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad, with the
+purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied by the
+rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw three Union
+soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at the same time.
+One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw up my hands. They
+belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry. I easily succeeded in
+proving to the lieutenant in command, who soon rode up at the head of
+the company, and whose name I learned was Watkins, that I was a Union
+scout. The sight of General Morell's glass had its effect.
+
+I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong force in
+Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town. The
+lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash into the
+place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in our hands. In
+the village were some stragglers who also were made prisoners. We
+remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry securing much
+property. There were a good many horses taken, one of which the
+lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.
+
+The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all the
+country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was nothing to
+hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The general told me
+that they had given me up for lost, and asked what had become of me
+after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my work, and he was
+pleased to say that he approved of what I had done. He told me that
+Jones had recovered the horse that I had abandoned.
+
+As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering it; the
+tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle; then I called
+him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few words I told him of
+my work, and why I had been away so long.
+
+"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to Lydia, too,
+who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded from
+your battle."
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE ACCURSED NIGHT
+
+     "If ever I were traitor,
+     My name be blotted from the book of life,
+     And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very tired,
+although I had had a good rest the night before, and alternations of
+walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon despatched, and the
+Doctor got his pipe.
+
+"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on your own
+dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake brought it."
+
+"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can content
+myself till bedtime as I am."
+
+"How long have you had it on?"
+
+"Almost two days."
+
+"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"
+
+"Not just at this moment, Doctor."
+
+"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians again?"
+
+"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."
+
+"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"
+
+"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."
+
+"It was the First, very likely," said he.
+
+This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many times
+before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr. Khayme. I
+thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was that he
+obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.
+
+"Why should you think so, Doctor?"
+
+"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications with our
+Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with Charleston. I know
+that the First South Carolina regiment was on Sullivan's Island early in
+1861, some months before the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and I remember
+reading in the _Mercury_ that the ladies of Charleston had presented the
+First with a very heavy blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver
+palmetto and crescent."
+
+"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto and the
+crescent."
+
+"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one of the
+regiments which were lately under Anderson near Fredericksburg, and we
+know that Anderson's force has fallen back on Richmond. It must have
+passed through Ashland very recently."
+
+"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to know,"
+said I, musingly.
+
+"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."
+
+"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and somebody had
+recognized me?"
+
+"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might have
+recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet might have
+sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to everybody at school
+that you were from the North?"
+
+"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of course,
+some of the boys knew it."
+
+"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man in the
+Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."
+
+"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their homes; that
+is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who reason, and the
+others don't count."
+
+"They might at least be neutral," I said.
+
+"How could they think that being neutral would defend their homes?"
+
+"And you think that the Southern people really believe their homes in
+danger?"
+
+"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen more than
+one Southern home destroyed?"
+
+"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South, far away
+from the armies."
+
+"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from armies;
+to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."
+
+"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also. I wonder
+what's the matter with us."
+
+"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true, I have
+been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you. Our trades,
+however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this time, if ever."
+
+"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't wish
+to," said I.
+
+"You need never fight another battle," said he.
+
+"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.
+
+"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day; you
+ought not to fight at all."
+
+"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"
+
+"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."
+
+"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall likely
+be required to do both."
+
+"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the
+Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is not
+very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of course, you
+can do so if you insist upon it."
+
+"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"
+
+"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."
+
+"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh unless I
+had other work at the time."
+
+"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your cause, or
+your poorest?"
+
+"Can I not do both?"
+
+"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and make an
+art of it."
+
+"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a terrible
+thought to me."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."
+
+"You allude to your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What effect does spying have upon you?"
+
+"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted in my
+life as when I came back on the 24th."
+
+"You had had a hard time, no doubt."
+
+"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I believe
+that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was a
+Union soldier."
+
+"That only shows that you acted your part."
+
+"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a
+Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the next
+moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."
+
+"Very likely."
+
+"I'd prefer being in the ranks."
+
+"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your
+sufferings?"
+
+"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly contrasted
+with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I become another,
+and I can see two of me at once."
+
+"And that proves painful?"
+
+"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order to
+succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."
+
+"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones; the
+relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But for your
+recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent real and
+practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could not become,
+in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends largely on memory.
+The extraordinary vividness of your memory produces a corresponding
+vividness in imagining. You see how valuable are your peculiar powers. I
+have no doubt that with a little data concerning some narrow section of
+the South, such as knowledge of family names and family history, you
+could join the Confederate army and play a most important role, giving
+to your generals information of contemplated movements as well as of
+movements, in actual progress."
+
+"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a life."
+
+"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my emotion;
+"I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more likely to confirm
+your intermittent states. What you need is to get rid entirely of any
+necessity for the exercise of either memory or imagination for a time.
+To cherish either is to cherish both. On the contrary, any great and
+long-continued interest, which would dissociate you from your past,
+would, in my judgment, prove the end of your peculiar states."
+
+I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time. When he
+spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and hope for the
+best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the total. Keep up your
+spirits. War has many startling opportunities as well as disasters."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were heard miles
+away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the whole of
+McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company was actually
+in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report for me to our
+adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the Doctor's solicitation, a
+few words to General Grover.
+
+This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it, raged
+during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June 1st, and
+did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of McClellan's
+left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in reserve, and did not
+become engaged. While the battle was in progress, intense but subdued
+excitement was shown by the men in General Morell's command, and by the
+other troops on the right. On the part of all, there was constant
+expectation of orders to march to the help of the Union forces on the
+further side of the Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle
+came, in which our men had more than held their own, disappointment at
+not being chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed
+to feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his tent, he
+busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order came from
+General Morell for me to report to him at once.
+
+Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two officers
+unknown to me. The one who most attracted my attention--though I was
+careful not to show any curiosity--was a man of nearly forty years, of
+medium height and muscular frame. His hair was dark; his mustache very
+slightly tinged with gray. His manner indicated an extremely nervous
+sense of responsibility, and the attitude of deference, which the others
+observed in his regard, was very noticeable. His face reminded me
+vaguely of some portrait--I knew not whose.
+
+The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and of a more
+cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single opportunity. He seemed
+to be on a very familiar footing with the officer whom I have first
+mentioned.
+
+General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers. In the
+middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was spread, and
+around which the three officers were sitting. General Morell allowed me
+to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some words of a conversation
+which I supposed had been practically finished before I entered.
+
+"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the smaller
+officer.
+
+"Perfectly," said General Morell.
+
+The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.
+
+"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know certainly
+whether we have the means in hand."
+
+The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one way, then
+in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty our present
+purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single man?"
+
+"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not divulge our
+intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a reconnaissance."
+
+"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is serious."
+
+"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell has
+confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own way."
+
+"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any plan
+might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I should
+say that we have nine chances out of ten."
+
+"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the others
+rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."
+
+The three now left the tent, while I remained.
+
+I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any title
+given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles had been
+suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not know, but that
+they were in great authority was not to be doubted; I made a wild guess
+that one was General Porter and the smaller man some trusted
+staff-officer from army headquarters[4].
+
+[4] Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick
+describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts in the
+newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression. It is not a
+matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before been in the presence
+of the great general. [ED.]
+
+General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the table,
+then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At length he
+looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick, it is absolutely
+necessary for us here on this flank to get accurate information of the
+enemy's strength, and as soon as possible."
+
+"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.
+
+"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his left
+wing."
+
+"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.
+
+"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or not, it
+must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the country, with
+the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can be plainly seen
+from our lines. We do not know how well fortified, or how many, are the
+troops opposed to us. We have information, but we fear that it is not
+reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in some of the most essential
+points. We do not know the length of the enemy's line; we suppose it
+rests on the James River above Richmond as well as below Richmond. That
+makes too long a line to be very strong in all its parts. Their left may
+be a mere skirmish-line; their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some
+parts of their line must be very thin, and it is suspected that their
+left is the thinnest part."
+
+To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force under
+Anderson from Fredericksburg has reënforced the army now under Lee, and
+we are not sure what position it holds. The force under Jackson causes
+great apprehension. From several quarters we get rumours of an intention
+or supposed intention of Lee to march Jackson against our right. If
+there is such a purpose, we ought, by all means, to anticipate the
+movement. If we are ever to attack, it ought not to be after Jackson
+reënforces Lee."
+
+While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon myself
+than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were readily
+understood: their implications in regard to myself were equally clear;
+he wanted me to serve again as a getter of information. My stomach rose
+against my trade; I had become nauseated--I don't know a better word
+--with this spying business. The strain upon me had been too great; the
+23d and 24th of May had brought to my mental nature transitions too
+sudden and entire to be wholesome; I felt that only a positive command
+to enter the rebel lines would justify me in doing myself such violence
+again; I had begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.
+
+"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the man for
+our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more with the
+view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any intention of
+heeding his wishes.
+
+"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his left," said
+he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on our extreme
+right; we want you to find out what is opposite our right and what force
+extends beyond our front. The enemy's line curves or else has a salient
+somewhere beyond this point; his line turns somewhere and extends in
+some form to the James River. Find that salient or curve; ascertain its
+strength and the strength of their left, or western face."
+
+"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked, somewhat
+hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how impossible would
+be my suggestion.
+
+"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's lines,"
+said the general.
+
+It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice in the
+matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered me; but I
+was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to explain my
+reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity I should suffer
+the loss of his respect--something I did not wish to forfeit.
+
+"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night; remain a
+day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night. The distance is
+not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few miles within
+their lines."
+
+Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no doubt that
+he honestly believed the reputed charm of such adventures fascinated me
+as well as others. But if that man on that accursed night of June had
+seen what was going on in me, he would have been far from choosing Jones
+Berwick as the man to send upon an enterprise that demanded a fixed
+purpose and an undisturbed mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme
+to see to it that I had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should
+follow worse.
+
+But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how could I
+presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general of a
+division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable, and who,
+as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments only, in order
+that he might accomplish a purpose.
+
+I must decline or accept without explaining.
+
+"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is wrong?"
+
+Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no longer; "I
+should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I said.
+
+He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he asked;
+then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection, however; Dr.
+Khayme will help rather than hinder."
+
+"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser than I am;
+if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as you say,
+General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great help."
+
+"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want with Dr.
+Khayme?"
+
+"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"
+
+"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."
+
+"And what is the time now?"
+
+"Ten o'clock."
+
+"Can you wait my answer an hour?"
+
+"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.
+
+The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being treated
+as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if not--if the
+general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and good--I would
+obey without further delay or hesitation.
+
+I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go into the
+enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into the enemy's
+lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my answer an hour."
+
+"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.
+
+I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no unpleasantness.
+Though scouts are under orders just as other men are, it is not hard to
+understand that generals feel it necessary to be somewhat delicate in
+their treatment of such peculiar servants. I suppose that, in the mind
+of a general, there always exists some fear that his spies will not
+prove as diligent and self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in
+my treatment of General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear:
+such a course would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the
+effect of my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.
+
+"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much upon the
+apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to apologize. Give
+me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it, and without mental
+reservation."
+
+"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any order
+to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you know, too,
+that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."
+
+"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer that you
+send some other man on this expedition."
+
+"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this present
+work."
+
+"Then order me to go, General."
+
+"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in one hour
+if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me his hand.
+
+As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the work
+offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some effect on
+me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me; perhaps the
+mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak, had exaggerated my
+fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at any rate, before I had
+reached the Doctor I was beginning to sympathize with General Morell,
+whose responsibility was so great, and whose evident desire to
+conciliate had touched me, and was wishing that I could have served him.
+Then, too, the question came to me what would General Morell do in case
+my refusal was final? And I had little doubt that the correct reply was:
+He will command me. And, in that case, our relationship would be
+weakened unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly.
+Yet, with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this
+frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute could
+occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter extreme of
+mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of mental danger,
+could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.
+
+To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no embarrassment;
+I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered by a doubt as to how
+much I should tell him of the necessity which prompted the demand for my
+work. The three generals had spoken of important matters before me, or
+at least hinted at them, and General Morell had been still more
+communicative. I made up my mind to say nothing of these matters to
+the Doctor.
+
+When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his writing.
+As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from his seat.
+
+"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."
+
+He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it is only a
+momentary unsteadiness."
+
+Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was then in Dr.
+Khayme's.
+
+I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor placed a
+finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking for both
+of us."
+
+He rose and brought me water, and I drank.
+
+Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must make with
+his will against impulse is not easy, especially with some natures; and
+a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield once is to become
+weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"
+
+I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew I could
+not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew the mind if
+ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was going on in the mind
+by the language of the features and the body. Especially did he know me.
+But possibly his knowledge was only general; he might infer, from
+apparent symptoms, that some mental trouble was now pressing hard upon
+me, and, without knowing the special nature of the trouble, might be
+prescribing the exercise of the will as a general remedy. Yet it
+mattered nothing to me, at the moment, I thought, how he knew.
+
+"You will not yield," said he.
+
+I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of
+Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.
+
+"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to the
+little cottage in Charleston?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to will.
+Do you remember it?"
+
+Again I nodded assent.
+
+"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free. If I
+should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no good. All that
+I can do is to say that the will is free."
+
+His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he said,
+although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I should
+surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former ground. Yet I
+doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I wished that he
+would speak again.
+
+"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be unobserved, or
+dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man accustomed to keep himself
+in subjection can fail to distinguish temptation from surrender."
+
+How well he could read me!
+
+"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily weakness, or
+through fear--which is the same thing. But he who can will when he
+desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."
+
+I put his hand away and rose.
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.
+
+"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.
+
+"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.
+
+"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies you?"
+
+"I go alone."
+
+He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He understood.
+
+"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen your
+body."
+
+He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured a
+spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.
+
+"It will be slow and last long," said he.
+
+He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he turned the
+pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I needed.
+
+"Do you go armed?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."
+
+He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the haversack,
+and put food in it.
+
+Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."
+
+"Anything you wish, Doctor."
+
+"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."
+
+It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.
+
+"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this book. Turn
+to May 23d. I will dictate."
+
+It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages divided into
+sections, which were headed with dates for the year 1862.
+
+"Turn to May 23d," he had said.
+
+"I have it," said I.
+
+"Read the date," said he.
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."
+
+"Now write."
+
+The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers.
+Marched at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+"Marched but a few miles. Day very hot. Weather
+bad. Heavy rain at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past--"
+
+"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the Doctor
+asked.
+
+"Branch's."
+
+"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been
+fighting.'"
+
+Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and
+write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the book
+lengthwise, and write Jones."
+
+I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.
+
+"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."
+
+I put a capital B after Jones.
+
+"Let me see," said he.
+
+I showed him the book.
+
+"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before Jones."
+
+"Have you an eraser?"
+
+"I'll get one."
+
+The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B. before
+Jones.
+
+"We must get that dark spot out," said he.
+
+He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf, so that
+there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf above
+the writing.
+
+"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."
+
+"What is all this for, Doctor?"
+
+"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect you."
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?"
+
+"Ten minutes to eleven."
+
+"I must go."
+
+He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me bend to
+him, and kissed me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me through
+our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.
+
+The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My mind
+was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life; but the
+lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly understood, and I had
+voluntarily turned the die for duty after it had been cast for ease. All
+my hesitation had gone, leaving in its place disgust kept down by
+effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing;
+I had desire, but knew it unattainable, and renounced its object. I
+would not hope for a happiness that might bring ruin on another.
+
+To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate; life at
+the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not yielded to this
+feeling even; I would be prudent and would accomplish what was hoped
+for, if my strength should serve.
+
+In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's
+commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had rejected
+it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to first perform a
+duty for which the honour had been soothingly offered.
+
+My plans--I had no plans. I had started.
+
+What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I was
+making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for an
+opportunity--that was all.
+
+The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and bush, and
+many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To follow every crook
+of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of the swamp and began to
+skirt its edge. I looked toward my right--the northeast; the sky
+reflected a dim glow from many dying camp-fires. I could see how the low
+swamp's edge bent in and out, and how I could make a straighter course
+than the river. In some places a path was found. Our pickets were
+supposed to be on the edge of the hills behind me.
+
+My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at right
+angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of them
+successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which I knew it
+would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by the
+Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at times to see
+if it had narrowed.
+
+About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I crossed a
+railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The ground was covered
+with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and was soft and slippery from
+recent high water. My progress was soon interrupted by a stream, flowing
+sluggishly to my left. I sought a crossing. The stream was not deep, but
+the slippery banks gave me great difficulty in the darkness. The water
+came to my waist; on the further side were hollows filled with standing
+water left by the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the
+Chickahominy.
+
+Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was supposed
+the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise the greatest
+care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid stumbling on one of
+them in the darkness, was a problem. Very likely they were placed from a
+hundred to two hundred yards apart, and near the bank of the stream, if
+practicable, especially at night, for the stream itself would not only
+be their protection, but also, by its difficulty and its splashing,
+would betray any force which should attempt to cross to the south side.
+
+But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line of
+vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream, would
+require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line, and such a
+line of vedettes could not well be maintained constantly--never is
+maintained, I think, unless an enemy's approach is momentarily feared,
+in which case you frequently have no vedettes at all. Following up this
+thought I concluded that the vedettes were, most likely, watching their
+front from the inner bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had
+its convex side toward the north, was my opportunity.
+
+I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became very
+great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was almost
+completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge of
+the water.
+
+Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved it up and
+down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the ground. To make
+no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of an inch might have
+caused a loud splash.
+
+Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in it to my
+knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward, raising my foot
+not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye and ear to note the
+slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to my middle.
+
+I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I crawled
+forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than believing, that I
+was keeping halfway between the sides of the bend.
+
+I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute had passed
+I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other at my left. The
+sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the vedette on either side
+of me was being relieved. My course had been right--I was midway between
+two sentinels.
+
+How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that the
+pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills. Lying there
+between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that a picket-line is
+relieved early in the day when troops are in position, as the armies
+were now. If I could see the relief coming, I would show myself just at
+the time it arrived, hoping that each party would take me to belong to
+the other.
+
+But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose any one
+of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan
+impracticable, what then?
+
+I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would make
+some other plan as I crawled forward.
+
+At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets? That the
+country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew, and I hoped that
+for this reason their infantry would be less watchful; but this thought
+did not make me any the less prudent and slow in my advance. I had
+easily succeeded in passing the vedettes; to avoid the vedette reliefs
+might not be easy.
+
+When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just beginning to
+show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and pickets?
+Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought. Why not climb?
+Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the thick boughs of a
+cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at least, it could do no
+good unless in case of sudden necessity. I must get through the
+picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once in rear of the Confederate
+pickets, I should have little or no trouble in remaining for days in the
+camps and in the main lines; getting through was the difficulty.
+Daylight was increasing.
+
+Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to this
+edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a relief
+come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a non-commissioned
+officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty yards of me. I let
+them pass. They went into the swamp. Five minutes later two men returned
+by the same route, or almost so, but came a little nearer to me; I saw
+them coming and felt for my glass, but did not find it. I supposed that
+Dr. Khayme had forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no
+doubt the same non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just
+relieved from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could
+distinctly see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled
+appearance. These men had seen hard service, evidently.
+
+Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men at my
+left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the swamp. These
+men wore uniforms fresh and clean.
+
+The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two vedettes
+belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some way to take
+advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to no purpose.
+Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go back to the
+vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man of the connecting
+line? He would probably think that I belonged to the command joining
+his. No doubt I could do this; but what should I gain? I should merely
+be losing time.
+
+Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate vedette
+between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could do so there
+was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.
+
+Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going forward
+boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the hill. The
+pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could strike between
+the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing might be done. Yet I
+wanted a better way.
+
+Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs of a
+tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come. They were
+talking, but I could not hear what they said.
+
+I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a large gully,
+only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to be on their route.
+The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw them no more. My interest
+was excited. Why had the men gone into this gully? There was smoother
+ground outside. They had a purpose; I must find it out.
+
+Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I was on
+neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least. I could not
+know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every two hours. There
+would probably be nobody passing between vedettes and pickets--unless,
+indeed, some officer should go the rounds of the sentinels; that was
+something I must risk.
+
+I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of the
+gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view. I could
+now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I suspected that
+the picket-line stretched across it; but there was no indication of the
+purpose which had caused the men to go into the gully. My position was a
+good one, and I waited. I could see a part of the picket-line--that is,
+not the men, but the rifle-pits.
+
+Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an oblique
+direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He disappeared. He
+had gone down into this gully, which, I was now confident, separated by
+its width the pickets of different commands. What could this unarmed man
+be doing in the gully? Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping
+that an opportunity had been found.
+
+Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was coming from
+the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the same instant the
+unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he held his canteen in
+his hand. The situation was clear; there was water in the gully; my
+opportunity had come.
+
+I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before the
+vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth of the
+gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side of the gully;
+he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the man I had seen a
+moment before. I went into the gully. I must get to that spring or pool,
+or whatever it was, before another man should come.
+
+Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the spring--and it
+was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little hollow had been made
+by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the hands, on one side of the
+gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen earth would protect the hole
+from the midday sun, the only sun which could reach the bottom of this
+ravine, defended by its wall on either hand. The hole was so small that
+only one canteen could be filled at a time; but the water was good
+compared with that of the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty
+of getting pure water that justified the relaxation of discipline which
+permitted the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their
+vedette lines.
+
+Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I sat and
+waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and began scraping
+the mud from my shoes and clothing.
+
+I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down with
+one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.
+
+"Fill mine, too," said a voice.
+
+I did not look up.
+
+"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o'
+mosquitoes?"
+
+"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was on
+vydette."
+
+He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't git that
+mud off that-away; let it dry."
+
+I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of shelf in
+the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water for more
+than one man.
+
+"Gimme your canteen," said I.
+
+He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap
+Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged to
+the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied themselves, from
+battlefields and prisoners, and the greater capture of stores, with good
+Union canteens. Even while I was thinking this, he said, "What'll you
+take to boot 'twixt your canteen and mine?"
+
+"Don't want to swap," said I.
+
+I filled his canteen.
+
+"Now, gimme your hand," said I.
+
+He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it took two
+pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but knew that he
+was a small man.
+
+He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was new. We
+reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.
+
+Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill. There was a
+pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty feet wide. Had I
+known of the existence of that gully, I could have stolen through the
+picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had it guarded at night.
+
+"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own side?"
+
+"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.
+
+He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes and his
+clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He walked slowly
+up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be within the picket-line;
+it took all my will to preserve composure; I was glad the man was in
+front of me. We stepped slowly up the hill.
+
+I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down, probably,
+half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I was wishing my
+leader would speak again. The nervous tension was hard. What should I do
+when we reached the line? I had no plan, except to walk on. I wished my
+leader would continue to march, and go past the pits--then I could
+follow him; the trivial suggestion aroused self-contempt; I was thinking
+of straws to catch at. I must strengthen my will.
+
+He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."
+
+This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't see it,
+myself."
+
+"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.
+
+"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"So I could get some sleep."
+
+"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's shore."
+
+"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take care of
+myself."
+
+"Ben sick?"
+
+"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."
+
+"Bilious, I reckon," said he.
+
+"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."
+
+"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.
+
+"Wish I _could_ see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the word, mentally,
+with a capital.
+
+"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"
+
+"You don't know my captain," said I.
+
+"Hard on you, is he?"
+
+"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out here."
+
+"Bet _I'd_ go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.
+
+"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Send a man after me."
+
+"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet _our_ men won't stop you; you
+don't belong to _them_."
+
+This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any eagerness. We
+were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt that my friend was
+marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he was surely on the left of
+his company--he was such a small man.
+
+"Stop," said I.
+
+He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow. He had
+the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.
+
+"You won't give me away?" I said.
+
+"What do you take me for?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything to
+anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men, I'll go."
+
+"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I don't
+know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want to know
+it; come on."
+
+He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I saw men
+lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at some of the
+other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where my friend had
+halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to cause them to speak. He
+handed his canteen to one of the men; even this man did not speak;
+he drank.
+
+I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The sun itself
+could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken five minutes, for
+the pits were not more than a hundred yards from the edge of the swamp.
+
+Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe. How far
+in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could not yet
+tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when I
+reached them.
+
+As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the pits I
+went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by bushes, and I
+went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast direction for nearly an
+hour. I passed in full sight of the picket-line in many places, and
+fortifications far to my right could be seen upon the hills. My purpose
+was to enter the main Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible
+opposite New Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on
+the night before.
+
+The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I sat in a
+shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best. I believed I
+had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go forward. I could see
+parts of fortifications. No one would think of hindering my entrance. I
+would go into the lines; then I would turn to the right and follow out
+my instructions.
+
+Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was entirely bare
+of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were lines of earthworks.
+I did not pause; I went straight ahead.
+
+A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I
+thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would bring
+them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was some
+regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were going to
+relieve the last night's pickets.
+
+The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I heard a
+cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost directly in my
+rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far above my head.
+
+At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in any
+danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain their
+object on the other side of the Chickahominy.
+
+The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind the
+line of earthworks.
+
+I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although the shells
+went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into the place of
+danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no tree, no fence,
+nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and bare. I was on this
+bare hill.
+
+A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like myself, had
+no doubt come from the picket-line.
+
+"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for the
+breastworks.
+
+The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less height.
+
+One of the shells burst over my head.
+
+Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left hand--with great
+violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious that I saw him fall; at
+the instant there was a deafening noise, and I was conscious of nothing.
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MASK OF IGNORANCE
+
+                           "I am mainly ignorant
+     What place this is; and all the skill I have
+     Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
+     Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Don't know."
+
+My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me now. A
+gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.
+
+"Hurt bad?"
+
+"Head mashed."
+
+"Anybody else?"
+
+"One more, and _he's gone_!"
+
+I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but could not.
+
+I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my eyes
+threatened to break something in my head.
+
+I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly, and to
+become larger and smaller.
+
+Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.
+
+The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went by. The
+blue sky was over me. I did not stir.
+
+How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that I was
+conscious.
+
+I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait a
+second!"
+
+A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines ...
+these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night sky had
+been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over my head, and
+the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear of insanity. I
+have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot recollect what
+hurt me....
+
+But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were returning. I
+could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to me, by some
+unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear them
+step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and I could
+hear them speak, and breathe heavily.
+
+Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.
+
+We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a field,
+or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or thought I
+heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"--and again,
+"Hep! Hep! Hep!"
+
+Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is vivid while
+it lasts.
+
+Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I dreamed
+that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the ground.
+
+I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were strange.
+They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my eyes. I tried
+to think.
+
+"There he goes again," said a voice.
+
+I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face bending over
+me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head was bare. He had
+spectacles. He was not dirty.
+
+"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.
+
+I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a tent. There
+were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There were forms
+on the beds.
+
+The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one of them
+raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I supposed so,
+though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.
+
+I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man with the
+spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your head. You are
+not hurt badly."
+
+My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that must be
+true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not unreasonable. The man
+went away.
+
+But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that people
+awoke before they were hurt.
+
+The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He raised my
+head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to open my mouth,
+but could not.
+
+He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head in his
+hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put water into
+it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I drank. Both
+went away.
+
+The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in his
+hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt me;
+I groaned.
+
+"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your hair a
+little, so that I can get at you."
+
+Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my head
+get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.
+
+"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll promise to
+go to sleep."
+
+I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go to
+sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed inwardly
+at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.
+
+The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank. The water
+did not taste so good as the first draught did.
+
+I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would soon be
+over.
+
+When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was near
+me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned, while
+asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another man on
+another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat rolled down
+my face.... Where was I? What was I?
+
+My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to remember how
+I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the place of ... had I
+dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk much water; my throat
+was parched.
+
+A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my dream ...
+then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I was awake,
+maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and this tent and
+this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I awake I shall laugh at
+this dream; I shall write it out, because it is so complex and strange.
+
+The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"
+
+I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The man
+brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers on
+my wrist.
+
+"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his words
+would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could hope for a
+dream to end. He went away.
+
+I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my head. I
+felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I tried to turn,
+but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.
+
+The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and raised my
+head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and then went away,
+leaving me propped up.
+
+Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but feebly
+against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was a man. There
+were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five; five sick men. I
+wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they were all sick in the
+head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more strongly that all this
+horrible thing is unreal.
+
+I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, _six_; how is that?
+
+Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.
+
+Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they? Who am
+I? I know nothing--nothing.
+
+The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said, "Are you
+easier?"
+
+I could not reply. He went away.
+
+I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort brought
+increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I tried to
+sleep. I tried to quit thinking.
+
+When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent was
+very bright.
+
+A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He brought a
+basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face and hands, and
+dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you eat some breakfast?" I
+could not reply.
+
+The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The doctor
+was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The man on the
+pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I could not tell what
+the doctor said. The man groaned.
+
+Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to feel
+hungry.
+
+William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating in it.
+He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank. William
+went away.
+
+The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from outside.
+What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough to the railroad
+to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not from cars. I could hear
+shouting, as if of wagoners.
+
+All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the sun was
+shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be coming.
+
+I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would not do
+for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for a sick man
+in a storm.
+
+But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the reality.
+I know nothing.
+
+The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile in
+return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.
+
+The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who had
+groaned. The man was not groaning now.
+
+The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The doctor
+drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went out of the
+tent. A cold sweat was on me.
+
+Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a corner. They
+took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come back.
+
+Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was
+great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I had
+never before known it so warm.
+
+Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be with
+them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many days; I
+thought that I had been unconscious.
+
+The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in his
+hand--a book and a pencil.
+
+Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his arms
+were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the other man
+also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps officers of the
+Citadel battalion[5]. I wondered what I should be doing in their world.
+Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and for how
+long I did not know.
+
+[5] "The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in
+Charleston. [ED.]
+
+But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!
+
+The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the book to
+the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in the book, and
+gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man with the book went
+out of the tent.
+
+The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his shoulder.
+The first finger and the middle finger were stretched out; the other
+fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his hand and at his
+face, and wondered.
+
+He said, "Look! How many?"
+
+I said, "Two."
+
+He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing
+famously."
+
+He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding stools.
+He began to dress my head.
+
+"Your name is Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of good-will
+shown by his calling me by my first name.
+
+"What edge are you?"
+
+I was silent. I did not understand the question.
+
+"What edge are you?" he repeated.
+
+I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he had
+used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said, "What
+edge are you?"
+
+I thought he was meaning to ask my age.
+
+I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.
+
+"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.
+
+"I am in my twenty-second," I said.
+
+"The twenty-second what?" said he.
+
+"Year," said I, greatly astonished.
+
+He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.
+
+After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he inquired.
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"
+
+"That is my age," said I.
+
+"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not hear?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.
+
+Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a man in
+real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt relieved of
+many fears.
+
+"What are you smiling at?" he asked.
+
+"I've been dreaming," I said.
+
+"And your dream was pleasant?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You smile then at unpleasant things?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"I don't understand you," said he.
+
+"Neither do I," said I.
+
+"What is your regiment?" he asked.
+
+"Why do you ask such a question?"
+
+"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an
+answer," said he.
+
+"I have no regiment," I said.
+
+"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been unconscious?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I shall have
+to send you back to your regiment."
+
+"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.
+
+At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and gave me
+a bitter draught.
+
+I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was neither
+asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in my head was
+less violent.
+
+After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The doctor was
+standing by me.
+
+"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.
+
+The question came with something like a shock. I did not know how to
+reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I had not
+thought of home, than to find that I did not know a home,
+
+"Where is your home?" he repeated.
+
+"I do not remember," I said.
+
+"Where were you yesterday?"
+
+"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.
+
+He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are in South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"
+
+"Soldiers, you mean?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"I am not one of them," I said.
+
+"Try to remember," he said, and went away.
+
+The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the more did
+I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a wagoners'
+camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be soldiers here was too
+hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes must be a surgeon.
+
+The doctor came again.
+
+"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Better, I trust," said I.
+
+"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.
+
+"Fit for duty?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What duty?"
+
+"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"
+
+"I am not a soldier," I said.
+
+"Then why do you wear a uniform?"
+
+"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are taking
+me for another man."
+
+"You have on the uniform now," said he.
+
+He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.
+
+"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."
+
+"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.
+
+"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"
+
+"Yes. What district?"
+
+"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."
+
+"Who is your captain?"
+
+"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said, "I don't
+understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains. Do you belong
+to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you go to the Citadel?"
+
+"No; I think not," said I.
+
+"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"They are soldiers," I replied.
+
+"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You know something of Charleston?"
+
+"I've been there, I think."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Well; not very long ago."
+
+"How long? Try to think."
+
+"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am awake or
+dreaming."
+
+"Ask me questions," said the doctor.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"In the field hospital."
+
+"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know there
+was a hospital here."
+
+"Where do you think you are?"
+
+"In Aiken," I said.
+
+"Do you live in Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"
+
+"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more questions."
+
+"Give me some water," said I.
+
+He brought the water, and I drank.
+
+"Am I not in Aiken?"
+
+"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember whether
+your home is in Aiken."
+
+"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.
+
+"Where is your home?"
+
+"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get you out of
+this."
+
+"Out of this what?"
+
+"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things together
+yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get irritable."
+
+"I hope so," said I.
+
+"Ask more questions," said he.
+
+"How did I get here?"
+
+"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my infirmary men."
+
+"What men?"
+
+"Infirmary men."
+
+"What are they?"
+
+"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."
+
+"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"
+
+"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"
+
+"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days; but from
+what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."
+
+"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Were you not in Charleston?"
+
+"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in Aiken."
+
+His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said was
+puzzling to myself.
+
+"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's regiment.
+I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need something first."
+
+He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went out of
+the tent.
+
+To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything and
+nothing.
+
+Again that thunder.
+
+The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I believed
+he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain was confused I
+could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that was my comfort. He
+had given me medicine every time I felt worse; he was certainly a good
+doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the medicine was helping me.
+
+When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.
+
+"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.
+
+"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.
+
+"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several persons--you
+said something about Butler, and something also about Brooks
+and Sumner."
+
+"Was Brooks from Aiken?"
+
+"What Brooks?"
+
+"I don't remember," I said.
+
+"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't understand your
+talk about regiments. Why should there be regiments?"
+
+"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the pallets; "they
+have been wounded in battle."
+
+I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his words
+were wild.
+
+"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly, "tell me
+what day of the month this is."
+
+"The nineteenth," said I.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I read yesterday the Augusta _Constitutionalist_ of the
+eighteenth," said I.
+
+"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is getting
+well. Eighteenth of what?"
+
+"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said I.
+
+"It is indeed," said he.
+
+"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard thunder."
+
+"I did not hear any thunder," said he.
+
+"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.
+
+"What else did you dream?"
+
+"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."
+
+"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How old did you say you are?"
+
+"Twenty-one."
+
+"Do you know in what year you were born?"
+
+"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."
+
+"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"
+
+"Fifty-nine," said I.
+
+"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.
+
+I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel strangely
+calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my side.
+
+"You can trust me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+I looked at him, and said nothing.
+
+"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are thinking
+that one of us two is crazy."
+
+"Yes," said I.
+
+"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are suffering a
+little in the head, but there is no longer any danger to your brain
+at all."
+
+"I think I am dreaming," said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no harm."
+
+He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong in that.
+
+"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what have you
+dreamed while I wan gone?"
+
+"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."
+
+"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.
+
+I shrank, and he laughed.
+
+"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened since
+you were in Aiken?"
+
+I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.
+
+"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said, "but it
+may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I thought."
+
+"How did I get hurt?" I asked.
+
+"You were knocked down," said he.
+
+"Who did it?" I asked.
+
+"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference which one
+did it; we all know that you were in the right."
+
+"There was a quarrel?" I asked.
+
+"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity at once
+by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did not, you would
+make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you would become more and
+more bewildered. I can put you right. But can you make up your mind to
+accept the situation as it is, and bear up in the hope that you will
+come right in the end?"
+
+I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my mind. It
+was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank. It was not
+fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition was more
+favourable.
+
+"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the whole
+truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist. After all,
+there is nothing in it but what you might have reasonably expected when
+you were in Aiken in eighteen fifty-nine."
+
+"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.
+
+"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."
+
+"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"
+
+"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or at
+least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience from
+October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."
+
+"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all gone?"
+
+"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."
+
+I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it was hard
+for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six months--but, no;
+he was not saying I had been unconscious for six months--nobody could
+live through such a state--he was telling me that I could not remember
+what I had known six months ago.
+
+"What month is this?" I asked.
+
+"June," said he; "June 4th."
+
+"From October to June is a long time," I said.
+
+"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen fifty-nine,"
+said he.
+
+"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.
+
+"On my honour," said he.
+
+"And I have lost eight months of my life?"
+
+"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but temporary.
+You will get right after a while."
+
+"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"
+
+"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am trying now
+to find your regiment."
+
+"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to accept that?"
+
+"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive you?
+Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."
+
+"Because--" said I.
+
+"Because what?"
+
+"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me good."
+
+"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These hills
+around you are covered by an army."
+
+"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.
+
+"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."
+
+"What Richmond?"
+
+"In Virginia."
+
+"And what brought _me_ here? Why should I be here?"
+
+"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no doubt, and
+while your mind acted perfectly."
+
+"But why should I have come?"
+
+"Because your regiment was ordered to come."
+
+"And why should there be an army?"
+
+"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend your
+country, and your regiment was ordered here."
+
+"Country invaded? Volunteered?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then we are at war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"With England?"
+
+"No; not with England, with the United States."
+
+I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.
+
+"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I laughed
+again.
+
+"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a few
+minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you remember
+how many states compose the United States?"
+
+"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.
+
+"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine," said he;
+"but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the most of the
+Southern states--have seceded and have set up a government of their own.
+We call ourselves the Confederate States of America. Our capital is
+Richmond. The Northern states are at war with us, trying to force us
+back into the Union, as they call it. War has been going on for more
+than a year."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight
+months."
+
+"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"
+
+"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."
+
+He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The written page
+was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written some eight or ten
+names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B, such a regiment;
+Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on. Upon one line there
+was nothing written except _B. Jones_.
+
+Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date. The
+paper was the Richmond _Examiner_; the date, Wednesday, June 4, 1862.
+
+"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.
+
+I laughed.
+
+He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year. The
+great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and the
+Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he added, "I
+will show you."
+
+He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both sides.
+
+"Look!"
+
+I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow latitude. I
+could see tents, their numbers increasing as perspective broadened the
+view. I could see many men passing to and fro.
+
+"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for miles."
+
+I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face; I
+wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too false;
+at once my hands fell back.
+
+I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none before.
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+ONE MORE CONFEDERATE
+
+     "Thy mind and body are alike unfit
+     To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
+     When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
+          But whither?"--BYRON.
+
+I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the surgeon's
+repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the pain had almost
+gone. My stomach was craving food.
+
+It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle of the
+tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my dream had
+changed; the tent seemed larger.
+
+The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had heard
+them talking before I opened my eyes.
+
+"I should like to have him, Frank."
+
+Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every adjutant in
+the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But he knows that he
+is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are sufficient proof of
+that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows the movements of no other
+brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your company, Captain."
+
+"Can I do that without some authority?"
+
+"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be called
+for, and you can return him to his company."
+
+"What do you think of it, Aleck?"
+
+"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say exceptional,"
+said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide for miraculous
+contingencies."
+
+"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible to
+make it regular until his company is found. What else can you suggest?"
+
+"I don't know. Can't we wait?"
+
+"Wait for what?"
+
+"Wait till we find his people."
+
+"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him then?--turn
+him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I tell you we can't
+find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found it, and that he is fit
+for duty, or will be in a few days; he is not a fit subject for the
+general hospital, and I wouldn't risk sending him there; Powell would
+wonder at me."
+
+"Can't you keep him a while longer?"
+
+"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the matter
+with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to be
+attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It will all
+necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of _some_ company,
+and I want to see him placed right."
+
+"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."
+
+"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before he has a
+place to go to. I think I have the right, in this miraculous
+contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you, at least
+temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner or later we'll
+hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man. His memory will return
+to him, so that he'll know where he belongs."
+
+"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his company is
+found, of course I shall be compelled to let him go."
+
+"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear for him
+unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am I not
+right, Aleck?"
+
+"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"
+
+"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be nothing here
+for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and I'm going to treat
+him better than that. By the way, I believe he is awake."
+
+My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How do you
+feel now, Jones?"
+
+"Am I here yet?" I muttered.
+
+"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"
+
+"Where are the others?"
+
+"What others?"
+
+"The five men."
+
+"What five men?"
+
+"The five men on the pallets."
+
+"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."
+
+"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes again."
+
+"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well. Don't
+bother your head about what happened last century or last year."
+
+He went to the door and called William.
+
+The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.
+
+The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's friends
+sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take the soup
+somewhat greedily.
+
+"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.
+
+"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know where you
+are."
+
+"I know what I've been told," said I.
+
+"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe it or you
+doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"
+
+"Yes," I said boldly.
+
+"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a gentleman's
+voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I thought, vaguely,
+I had heard before.
+
+"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory of your
+own; what is it, please?"
+
+He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that I had
+got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any interest.
+
+"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"
+
+"Be good enough to tell me another."
+
+He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.
+
+"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse by
+inventing a war with all its _et ceteras_. His supposition does me
+credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury. Although I
+have given him my word of honour that I am concealing nothing, he still
+hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in order to keep from him a
+truth that might be dangerous to his health. I shall be compelled to
+call him out when he gets well. Will you act for me, Aleck?"
+
+"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your friend
+will make the _amende_ when he knows the injustice of his suspicions."
+
+"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the war?"
+asked the doctor.
+
+"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the Captain.
+The other man shook his head.
+
+"Then tell Jones the conditions here."
+
+"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say, although it
+is accepting impossibilities."
+
+"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you object to
+my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and so long?"
+
+"Not that I know of," said I.
+
+"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere creatures of
+your fancy?"
+
+The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see his
+features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head was below
+him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young man. His face
+was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.
+
+"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
+wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
+experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
+have had."
+
+Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight tinge of
+irony in this excessively polite speech.
+
+"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any other
+dream."
+
+"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious of is not
+a dream?"
+
+"That contradicts itself," said I.
+
+"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men that you
+are not dreaming?"
+
+"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.
+
+"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me your
+notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent throughout, or
+should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own unrealness?"
+
+"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my own
+existence."
+
+"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore you
+exist. Are you not sure that you think?"
+
+"I think, or I dream that I think."
+
+"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But suppose you
+dream on; what will be the result?"
+
+"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.
+
+"May I ask where you will awake?"
+
+"In Aiken."
+
+"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a year
+ago."
+
+Naturally the remark was of interest to me.
+
+"When was it?" I asked.
+
+"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was recruiting
+for the reorganized First."
+
+"August of what year?" I asked.
+
+"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself. I am
+going through deep waters, I know nothing."
+
+"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you through." Then
+he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He has men in his
+company from several of the districts; possibly some of them would know
+you, and you might know them."
+
+I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's suggestion was
+not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What, to me, was this
+captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had no interest in this
+war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes did not seem to set
+strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those men could get along
+without my help. Why could I not find a different occupation? Anything
+would be better than getting killed in a cause I did not understand.
+Then, too, I was threatened with the wretched condition of an object of
+common curiosity. If I was going to be gazed at by this officer and his
+men,--if I was to be regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie
+with theirs.
+
+"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go out of
+the tent for a moment?"
+
+"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."
+
+"Why should I go out?" I asked.
+
+"Only to look about you," he replied.
+
+The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself so
+strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.
+
+I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few fires on
+the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the whole world was
+shining with fires; long lines of them to the right and the left.
+
+We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.
+
+Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you. Command
+me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me too bold in
+advising you to make no hasty decision which you might regret
+afterward; good-by."
+
+"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."
+
+The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for a while,
+over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making a report. When
+this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This officer also is a
+Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general of Gregg's brigade,
+and is a brother of Captain William Haskell."
+
+The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but I was
+in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to help you if
+we can."
+
+"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it the
+more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."
+
+"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially to Dr.
+Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in Company H
+himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our attention to
+your case in order that we might try to help you, and we should be
+glad to help."
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any day or
+any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital, because you are
+almost well. Something must be done with you. What would you have
+us do?"
+
+"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to have any
+plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit myself to something
+I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I enlist as a soldier. I
+feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as a soldier in any way.
+Possibly I should think differently if I knew anything about the war and
+its causes."
+
+"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I think,
+Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the war were
+explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to agree to your
+wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him light; I know he
+must be full of curiosity."
+
+"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is going on.
+Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do, though, in
+the end."
+
+"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful; at any
+rate, it can do no harm."
+
+"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that you are
+already a soldier," said the doctor.
+
+"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.
+
+"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we propose is
+to give you a home until you find where you belong; and the place we
+propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know of. Company H is a
+fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I may say that they are
+picked men; the most of them are gentlemen. Let me mention some good old
+Carolina names--you will remember them, I think. Did you never hear the
+name of Barnwell?"
+
+"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I believe
+this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."
+
+"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do you
+know of the Rhetts?"
+
+"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."
+
+"Grimké Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there are the Seabrooks
+and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the Bellots[6], and Stewart, and Bee,
+and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent good old families. You
+would speedily feel at home."
+
+[6] The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in
+Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be pronounced
+_Bellotte_. [ED.]
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know. I am a
+soldier in a cause that I do not understand."
+
+"And you have done many other things that you could not now understand
+if you were told of them," said the doctor.
+
+"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been wounded in
+the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"
+
+"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.
+
+"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm done. Tell
+him how he was hurt, Aleck."
+
+"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the adjutant.
+
+"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I, with
+nervous curiosity.
+
+"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the doctor.
+
+"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the enemy's
+cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit that you are
+a soldier!"
+
+To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the two
+men.
+
+"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks; you are
+under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may come, and does
+come; you are wounded; you are brought to your hospital for treatment.
+And yet you doubt that you are a soldier! You must be merely dreaming
+that you doubt!"
+
+While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was getting
+angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones, good-by," he
+said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't let it fall into
+obstinacy."
+
+The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought," said he.
+
+"Yes, I am. I was surprised."
+
+"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts; they lie
+there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all. I suppose
+they think that they are dreaming."
+
+At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it was that
+my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then, too, it was
+pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.
+
+"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three days will
+set you up."
+
+"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies, and war,
+and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"
+
+"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are now
+convinced that there is a war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it ought to
+be enough for you to know that your country is in danger. Are you
+a patriot?"
+
+"I trust so."
+
+"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have talked long
+enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a night-cap."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my
+progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my
+curiosity.
+
+"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot," said he.
+
+"I trust I am," said I.
+
+"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are insulted. Our
+men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and hopes to conquer. Can
+you hesitate?"
+
+"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But how can
+you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits of the cause
+for which I am told to fight?"
+
+"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government is
+concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a
+Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep from
+serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I will not
+suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to answer any
+question you may ask about the causes of the war. You ought to have your
+mind satisfied, if it be possible."
+
+"What are they fighting about?"
+
+"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into
+existence?"
+
+"Yes, I think so," said I.
+
+"Tell me."
+
+"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their independence
+in war," said I.
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates framed a
+constitution."
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."
+
+"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of the
+constitutional convention?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.
+
+"Then do you think the States created the general government? Think a
+little before you answer."
+
+"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."
+
+"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the Federal
+government, or did the people of the whole United States, acting as a
+body-politic, create it?"
+
+"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.
+
+"In what respect?"
+
+"It makes the United States exist before the United States came into
+existence," said I.
+
+"Then what would your answer be?"
+
+"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent delegates. The
+delegates, representing the respective States, framed the constitution.
+The people, if I mistake not, ratified the constitution, each State
+voting separately. Therefore I think that the United States government
+is a creature of the States and not of the people as a body-politic; for
+there could have been no such body-politic."
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you ought never
+to have entered military service."
+
+"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for a time
+to enter into the agreement."
+
+"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States have
+compelled them to come in?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot say as to that," said I.
+
+"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce them?"
+
+"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot very well
+see what ought to have been done."
+
+"The two States would have had some rights?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What rights would the United States have had over the two States?"
+
+"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but the
+people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not think
+that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new republic by
+refusing to enter it. But there may have been something peculiar in
+Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should say that the
+question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode Island's
+objections should have been considered and removed. A forced agreement
+would be no agreement."
+
+"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all their
+rights?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"What rights did they retain?"
+
+"They retained everything they did not surrender."
+
+"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces? Did
+they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for the
+general good of all?"
+
+"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word 'partnership'
+is the correct term."
+
+"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A confederacy?"
+
+"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The title
+of the republic means a union."
+
+"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"
+
+"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word 'union'
+seems to me to imply greater permanence."
+
+"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"
+
+"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all
+time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were
+differences, even among the framers of the constitution."
+
+"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should believe that
+their interests were being destroyed and that injustice was being done."
+
+"The several branches of government should prevent that," said I.
+
+"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government were
+united in perpetrating this injustice."
+
+"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.
+
+"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in Congress had
+been elected by their opponents; that the President and the judges were
+all against them."
+
+"The will of the majority should rule," said I.
+
+"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself must be
+given up or defended?"
+
+"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.
+
+"Ought they to endure tamely?"
+
+"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it seems
+that the constitution should have provided some remedy."
+
+"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours, should
+conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except in
+withdrawing from the partnership, or union."
+
+"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps a
+dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge of
+such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank concerning
+politics."
+
+"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that step, in
+the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace; would her
+citizens be bound by her action?"
+
+"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being the case,
+every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long as he remains
+a citizen."
+
+"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable withdrawal
+is met by United States armies trying to force her back into the Union.
+Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a citizen of South
+Carolina?"
+
+"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State, he must
+obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of it."
+
+"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are invading his
+State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"
+
+"I think no man would do that."
+
+"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of his
+State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his help, and
+influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that South Carolina
+should allow any of her citizens to leave her in this crisis?"
+
+"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms would thus
+be allowed to go."
+
+"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"
+
+"In a certain sense--yes."
+
+"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"
+
+"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to reply, I
+should say no."
+
+"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military service,
+is it not your duty to serve?"
+
+"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me serve?"
+
+"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to serve his
+country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that a man should
+obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."
+
+"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."
+
+"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the country?"
+
+"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no exception to
+rules?"
+
+"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not exist
+in time of war. The Confederate States have called into military service
+all males between eighteen and forty-five. You could not leave the
+country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an impersonal sense--even
+if you should wish to leave it. Every man is held subject to military
+service; as you have already said, the State would commit suicide if she
+renounced the population from which she gets her soldiers. But, in any
+case, what would you do if you were not forced into service?"
+
+"I am helpless," I said gloomily.
+
+"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not helpless.
+What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can attach, you to
+any company that you may choose, with the condition that as soon as your
+friends are found you are to be handed over to them--I mean, of course,
+handed over to your original company. It seems to me that such a course
+is not merely the best thing to do, but the only thing to do."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under very heavy
+obligations. You have done much yourself, and your friends show me
+kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask you to act for me. I
+know the delicacy of your offer. Another man might have refused to
+discuss or explain; he had the power to simply order me back into
+the ranks."
+
+"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have been
+exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's duty to
+his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army regulations
+applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept here without
+authority, except the general authority which empowers the surgeon to
+help the wounded. But I have no control over you whatever. If you
+choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this hospital. I cannot
+make a report of your case on any form furnished me. It was this
+difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the brigade adjutant to visit
+you; while the matter is irregular, it is, however, known at brigade
+headquarters, so that it is in as good a shape as we know how to put it.
+I cannot order you back into the ranks; you would not know what to do
+with yourself; what I suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter
+of being supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that
+you are still in the service and are obeying authority."
+
+"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the possibility of
+being charged with desertion."
+
+"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must get
+authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect you
+fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and the
+adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without leave. I must
+quit you for a while."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my part, to
+find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the proposition
+to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard to my original
+company, and had at last confessed to myself that it was due to
+exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my company? should I
+recognize them? No; they would know me, but I should not know them. This
+thought had been strong in holding me back from yielding to the doctor's
+views; I had an almost morbid dread of being considered a curiosity. So,
+I did not want to go back to my company; and as for going into Captain
+Haskell's company, I considered that project but a temporary
+expedient--my people would soon be found and I should be forced back
+where I belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to
+keep out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go
+away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only keep
+me from being advertised and gazed upon.
+
+Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought before me
+the probability of my being already reported absent without leave, and
+the consequent possibility of being charged with desertion, I decided at
+once that I should go with Captain Haskell. Whatever I might once have
+been, and whatever I might yet become, I was not and never should be
+a deserter.
+
+When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong enough for
+duty.
+
+"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong enough to
+march in case the army should move. I do not intend, however, to let you
+go at once, unless there should be a movement; in that case I could not
+well keep you any longer."
+
+I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish to
+delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to enroll
+me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick list for a few
+days, in order that I might accustom myself gradually to new conditions.
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+COMPANY H
+
+                              "In strange eyes
+     Have made me not a stranger; to the mind
+     Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;
+     Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find
+     A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.
+
+In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation recounted
+above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short walk.
+
+From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see northward and
+toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents and cannon, and rows
+of stacked muskets and all the appliances of war. The sight was new and
+strange. I had never before seen at one time more than a battalion of
+soldiers; now here was an army into which I had been suddenly thrust as
+a part of it, without experience of any sort and without knowledge of
+anybody in it except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had
+never heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army
+had been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true that
+I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my misfortune had
+deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had decided my duty as to
+that cause; yet it now appealed to me so little, that I was conscious of
+struggling to rise above indifference. I reproached myself for lack of
+patriotism. I had read the morning's _Dispatch_ and had been shocked at
+the relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the
+part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against the
+wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me that my
+passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this peculiarity seemed so
+unimportant in comparison with the greater one which marked me, that it
+gave me no concern.
+
+In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum and the
+fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming and going. A
+line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched by, going somewhere.
+They had no uniform; I supposed they were recruits. A group of mounted
+men attracted me; I had little doubt that here was some general with his
+staff. Flags were everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked
+by stars.
+
+A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I started
+to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"
+
+He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.
+
+When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade is?"
+
+"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the hospital
+tents, I suppose."
+
+"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about here," said
+he.
+
+"I will go with you to the tent," said I.
+
+"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some days on
+duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in charge of the
+hospital?"
+
+"Dr. Frost," said I.
+
+"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our
+orderly-sergeant."
+
+By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men, and I
+looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I wanted to ask
+him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest he should
+afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be curious.
+However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was, would hardly
+become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked saying that I
+understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant in some company
+or other.
+
+"Yes; Company H," said he.
+
+"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."
+
+"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said he.
+
+"You like your company?"
+
+"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own company;
+I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better now."
+
+"You couldn't be under better care," said he.
+
+When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.
+
+"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I reckon, and
+I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment do you
+belong to?"
+
+The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know; to my
+intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he cried,
+"There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook hands. I
+besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he understood,
+and nodded.
+
+The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the
+regiment?"
+
+"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and Bellot soon
+went off.
+
+"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you and he
+are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you here to-day,
+he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but we'll hope for
+the best."
+
+"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees me
+again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very ragged,
+and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking of my
+strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become indebted to you
+for something besides your professional skill, Doctor."
+
+"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want, if I
+can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he will not
+come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your first service as
+light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if you have forgotten
+your drill!"
+
+"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did know
+anything about it."
+
+"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you may have
+lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In three days
+under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every manoeuvre. Just
+get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and you'll do eight of 'em
+without reflection."
+
+"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said I.
+
+"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I did not budge, but stood stiff.
+
+"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do _so_," said he.
+
+"_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I imitated the surgeon.
+
+"FRONT!--that's right--_Left_--FACE! That's good--FRONT!--all right; now
+again--_Right_--FACE!--FRONT!--_Left_--FACE!--FRONT!--_About_--put your
+right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind; it will all
+come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H many a day."
+
+I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection for me,
+though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of proprietorship
+acquired through discovery, so to speak.
+
+After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to Company H.
+W'ell drive over in an ambulance."
+
+From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the crest
+of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds were aglow
+with light. "McClellan's army," said he.
+
+"Whose army?" I asked.
+
+"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."
+
+"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.
+
+"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.
+
+"And their camp-fires make all that light?"
+
+"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."
+
+Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as the men
+had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be seen a
+blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and, underneath, a bed
+of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours abounded. The Captain
+himself had no tent; we found him sitting with his back to a tree near
+which was his little fly stretched over his sleeping-place. Several
+officers were around him. He shook the doctor's hand, but said nothing
+to me. The officers left us.
+
+"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that you may
+tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to his first
+service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."
+
+"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.
+
+"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got the cart
+before the horse."
+
+"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones Berwick."
+
+"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it is
+written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick instead of
+Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."
+
+"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of Private
+Berwick," said I.
+
+"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name reversed, that
+is a small matter which will straighten itself out when you recover your
+memory. What I was going to say is, that you may be received into my
+company as a recruit, as it were, but to be returned to your original
+company whenever we learn what company that is. We will continue,
+through brigade headquarters, to try to find out what regiment you are
+from--and under both of your names. While you are with me I shall
+cheerfully do for you all that I can to favour your condition. You will
+be expected, however, to do a man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."
+
+The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used toward me in
+the tent; his voice was stern and his manner frigid.
+
+"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued, "and will
+keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your case; for I can
+well understand, although you have said nothing about it, sir, that you
+do not wish confidences."
+
+His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."
+
+"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his official
+voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an ordinary recruit;
+we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I shall at once make a
+requisition for your arms and accoutrements, your knapsack, uniform, and
+everything else necessary for you. You may remain in the hospital until
+your equipment is ready for you. Report to me day after to-morrow at
+noon, and I will receive you into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it
+is time for prayers."
+
+The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book in his
+hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the doctor told
+me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch. Some of the men
+heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed heads.
+
+The Captain began to read:--
+
+"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just
+works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the world
+cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy commandments, and
+also that by Thee, we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may
+pass our time in rest and quietness, through the merits of Jesus Christ
+our Saviour.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have been
+preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all perils and
+dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our Saviour,
+Jesus Christ.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the Universe,
+who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon earth, most
+heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and bless Thy servant
+the President of the Confederate States, and all others in authority;
+and so replenish them with the grace of Thy Holy Spirit that they may
+always incline to Thy will, and walk in Thy way. Endue them plenteously
+with heavenly gifts, grant them in health, and prosperity long to live;
+and finally, after this life, to attain everlasting joy and felicity,
+through Jesus Christ our Lord.
+
+"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly beseech Thee
+for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst be pleased to
+make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to all nations. More
+especially we pray for Thy holy church universal, that it may be so
+guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all who profess and call
+themselves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the
+faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of
+life. Finally, we commend to Thy fatherly goodness all who are in any
+ways afflicted or distressed in mind, body, or estate, that it may
+please Thee to comfort and relieve them, according to their several
+necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy
+issue out of all their afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's
+sake. Amen."
+
+While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness outside
+of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.
+
+Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he was
+good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead of
+another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I should be
+without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have sent me to the
+general hospital, whence I should have been remanded to duty; and
+failing to know my regiment, I should have been apprehended as a
+deserter. At the best, even if other people had recognized the nature of
+my trouble, I should have been subjected then and always to the vulgar
+curiosity which I so greatly dreaded. Here in Company H nobody would
+know me except as an ordinary recruit.
+
+The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and said,
+"Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."
+
+"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr. Frost
+sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own company at
+any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if you do not find
+it. You are not under my orders until you come to me."
+
+As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me seriously,
+"You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones. How did
+you get my name reversed?"
+
+"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B. Jones,'"
+he said.
+
+"Will you let me see the diary?"
+
+"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to have
+done so before."
+
+The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small blank book
+for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862. Only a very few
+dates in this book are filled with writing. On the fly-leaf is "B.
+Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name having been all torn
+away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends with May 27th. The writing
+has been done with a pencil. I copy below all that the book contains:--
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at night."
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+
+"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain at
+night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.
+
+"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had
+been fighting."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each page in the book is divided into three sections.
+
+After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said to the
+surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe that I ever
+wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain that I could not
+have written B. Jones as my name."
+
+The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take this
+paper and write at my dictation."
+
+He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a battle
+ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been fighting."
+
+"Now let us compare them," said he.
+
+The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the paper.
+
+"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do know."
+
+"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book, what would
+you have said?"
+
+"That the book was never mine, of course."
+
+"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor. "Many cases
+have been known of patients whose handwriting had changed completely.
+The truth is, that I did not expect to see you write as you did
+just now."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.
+
+"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name is
+Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at all--any part
+of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do this and do that;
+there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the mind. I'd rather risk
+that signature which you made before you were hurt."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be trusted. It
+is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower part of the leaf
+has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why, of course, to destroy
+the name of the regiment to which the owner belonged! B. Jones is common
+enough; Jones Berwick is not so common. I found it, or else it got into
+my pocket by mistake. No wonder that a man named Jones is not
+called for."
+
+"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is identical?
+Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we cannot account for
+the rest unless you wrote it. It is very romantic, and all that, to say
+that somebody imitated your handwriting in the body of the book, but it
+is very far-fetched. Find some other theory."
+
+"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third you
+began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where you had
+been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had kept one, at
+home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days ago."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"By the by, let me see that book a moment."
+
+I handed it to him.
+
+"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I wanted to
+see who printed it."
+
+"What would that have shown?"
+
+"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or perhaps
+Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."
+
+"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make inquiries for
+the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is missing. Now do you
+go to bed and go to sleep."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.
+
+The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face I saw in
+the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at least ten years
+older. Needless to describe it, if I could.
+
+After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful duty,--I made
+a different appearance, and felt better, not only on account of the
+physical change, but also, I suppose, because my mind was now settled
+upon myself as a volunteer soldier.
+
+Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see me;
+Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a man who
+would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to give them no
+hint of the truth. He replied that it would be difficult to keep them in
+the dark, for they wouldn't see why a man, already wearing uniform,
+should offer himself as a member of Company H.
+
+"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said he.
+
+To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If I had
+any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other clothing."
+
+"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots of it."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me; besides,
+the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every volunteer. Your
+bounty will purchase clothing, if you are determined to squander your
+estate. Captain Haskell would be able to secure you what you want; your
+bounty is good for it."
+
+"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.
+
+"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was thinking, for
+the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the tables on me. Yes;
+you have already received the bounty; maybe you haven't yet spent it,
+though. I'll look up the contents of your pockets; I hope nothing's
+been lost."
+
+He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as well as
+a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in Confederate
+notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South Carolina, and
+more than four dollars in silver.
+
+"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do you want
+to do with all that?"
+
+"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.
+
+"Why old?"
+
+"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."
+
+"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we march, it
+will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer stuff; I know what
+to do. How you held on to that silver so long is a mystery."
+
+The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the Bellots
+came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The elder Bellot had
+already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did not seem to recognize
+me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man, fully six feet, with a slight
+stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes or a better face; he, too, wore a
+full beard. His name was Louis, yet his brother called him Joe. I took a
+liking to both Dave and Joe.
+
+The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the regiment
+was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a State regiment
+before the Confederate States had existed--that is to say, it had been
+organized by South Carolina alone, before any other State had seceded;
+it had seen service on the islands near Charleston.
+
+A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave Bellot,
+especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of which I was
+utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.
+
+"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."
+
+"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but I am
+not familiar with the city."
+
+"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."
+
+Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie, and I
+nodded assent.
+
+"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns of
+Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the Cadets
+had fired on the _Star of the West_; we thought Sumter would sink us,
+but she didn't say a word."
+
+I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that these men
+had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me. Momentarily I expected
+either of them to blurt out, "Where are you from?" and I had no answer
+ready. Afterward I learned that I was already known as an Aiken man, in
+default of better,--the doctor having considerately relieved me from
+anticipated danger.
+
+"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the Confederate
+service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time expired in June.
+It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and discharged, and at once
+reorganized under the same field-officers."
+
+I did not very well know what a field-officer is.
+
+"Who is the colonel?" I asked.
+
+"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called him once
+in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters, and it was
+the day for general inspection of the camp. We had scoured our tin
+plates and had made up our bunks and washed up generally, and every man
+was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I had my back to the door, and
+I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder when Old Headquarters will be
+here.' You never were so scared in your life as I was when I heard a
+loud voice at the door say, 'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the
+colonel walked in."
+
+I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is Suffolk?"
+
+"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was in the
+Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post, though. He
+commands our brigade now."
+
+"Where did you go from Suffolk?"
+
+"To Goldsborough."
+
+"Where is that?" I asked.
+
+"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island it was
+thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and Wilmington
+railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were brigaded with some
+tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson and the lot of us were
+sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put under Gregg again until we
+reached Richmond."
+
+"How many regiments are in the brigade?"
+
+"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's Rifles."
+
+"All from South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.
+
+"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very near
+getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."
+
+"Where is Hanover?" I asked.
+
+"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure to get
+into that fight, but we were too late for it."
+
+The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They
+especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared
+that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some others
+which they could name.
+
+Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I flattered myself
+with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit influenced by some
+acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.
+
+Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his brother, and
+then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know anybody in
+the company?"
+
+"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply relying on
+Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely on his judgment
+more than on my own."
+
+"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you can do
+better."
+
+I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to accept his
+offer.
+
+"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was walking
+a short way with the brothers as they returned to their camp. "No,"
+said I.
+
+"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of warfare."
+
+"What are they doing?" I asked.
+
+"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into regiments
+of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans, has several
+regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of one of our
+brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in that State are
+enticing the negroes away from their owners and putting arms into
+their hands."
+
+"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from saying more.
+The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at the time that New
+Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his saying that Butler had
+regiments of negroes seemed queer.
+
+"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's insurrection,"
+said Bellot.
+
+A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot
+continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading of
+Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!
+
+"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of secession,
+and they have split Virginia into two States. In my opinion, they are
+fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure selfishness: they know
+that they live on the trade of the South, and that they cannot make as
+much money if they let us go to ourselves."
+
+"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of course
+there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good mistakenly,
+but the mass of the people are blindly following the counsels of those
+who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed men, the manufacturers,
+and the great merchants of the North thought for one moment that they
+would lose some of their dollars by the war, the war would end. What
+care they for us? They care only for themselves. They plunge the whole
+country into mourning simply in order to keep control of the trade of
+the South."
+
+Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West Virginia by
+the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent, mentally vowing that
+I should at once read the history of events since 1859. So I sought Dr.
+Frost, and begged him to help me get books or papers which would give me
+the information I needed; for otherwise, I told him, I should be unable
+to talk with any consistency or method.
+
+"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in print that
+would give you just what you want. We might get files of newspapers--but
+that would be too voluminous reading and too redundant. You ought to
+have something concise--some outline; and where to get it I can't tell
+you." Then, as the thought struck him, he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll
+make it! You write while I dictate."
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+A LESSON IN HISTORY
+
+     "So that, from point to point, now have you heard
+     The fundamental reasons of this war;
+     Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
+     And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking that I
+would require many notes.
+
+"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October fifty-nine?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What date?"
+
+"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's seizure of
+Harper's Ferry."
+
+"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown episode?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.
+
+In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic
+Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building of
+which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and interrupted him
+to tell him so."
+
+"Maybe your home is in Charleston."
+
+"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I don't
+remember my home."
+
+He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important actions
+and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought in them in
+'61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.
+
+"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you something
+about your own command."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in
+progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.
+
+"Well."
+
+"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded at the
+battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You were in
+that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson we call him,
+to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is president of the Tredegar
+Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you were facing McDowell. Now, look
+here at the map. McClellan stretched his right wing as far as
+Mechanicsville--here, almost north of Richmond; and you were between
+McClellan and McDowell. So Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember
+the hot march?"
+
+"Not at all; I don't think I was there."
+
+"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover your
+memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in an
+unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies itself
+against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of weakness that
+things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a dream proves to be
+the beginning. However, some men have such great strength of will that
+they can do almost anything. If ever you get the smallest clew, you
+ought then and there to determine that you will never let it go. Your
+friends may find you any day, but it is strange they have not yet done
+it They surely must be classing you among the killed."
+
+[Illustration: A Lesson In History] [Map of Chesapeake Bay and
+Environs]
+
+"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the past?
+Would my memory return if I should find them?"
+
+"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first find
+one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and then they
+can show you how everything else is to be associated with that. Without
+their help you would have a hard time in collecting things--putting them
+together; they would be separate and distinct in your mind; if you
+remember but one isolated circumstance, it would be next to impossible
+to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and finish; we are nearly at the end,
+or at the beginning, for you. Where was I?
+
+"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"
+
+"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the
+twenty-fourth."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's brigade. While
+you were retreating, and when you were very near Hanover, McClellan
+threw a column on Branch, and used him very severely. You were not in
+the fight exactly, but were in hearing of it, and saw some of Branch's
+men after the fight. That is how we know what brigade you belong to,
+although it will not claim you. You know that you are from South
+Carolina, and your buttons prove it; and your diary shows that you were
+near Branch's brigade while it was in the fight; and the only South
+Carolina brigade in the whole of Lee's army that had any connection with
+Branch, is Gregg's. Do you see?"
+
+"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"
+
+"May 27th; your diary tells you that."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The division you
+are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light division. Branch's brigade
+is in it."
+
+"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the army
+down to the company."
+
+"Go ahead."
+
+"Lee's army--"
+
+"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."
+
+"What is General Lee's full name?"
+
+"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse Harry Lee
+of Revolution times."
+
+"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's brigade--what
+is General Gregg's name?"
+
+"Maxcy."
+
+"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"
+
+"How did you know that?"
+
+"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"
+
+"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."
+
+"Company H, Captain Haskell--"
+
+"William Thompson Haskell."
+
+"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."
+
+"Now read what you have written," he said.
+
+I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made. My
+interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily have
+called over in chronological order the principal events he had
+just narrated.
+
+"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the details
+from what you can remember of what I said?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."
+
+He asked some questions, and I replied to them.
+
+My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a
+phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he said.
+
+His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.
+
+"What has become of the _Merrimac?_" I asked him.
+
+"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had to
+follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some halfway down
+below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by Lincoln against all the
+ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak on the water."
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+
+     "And so your follies fight against yourself.
+      Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--
+      And fight and die, is death destroying death;
+      Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."
+                                          --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr. Frost had
+offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone, and, as my
+strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all my possessions
+in my pockets.
+
+The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll of
+Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in its
+alphabetical position.
+
+A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having been
+made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots. Besides the
+brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I formed gradually
+some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant Josey, Corporal
+Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box, in this alphabetical
+succession of names my own name being no real exception, although
+Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name written in the diary.
+
+And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's drill in the
+manual and in everything. The company drilled four hours a day, and the
+regiment had one hour's battalion drill, besides dress-parade; there was
+roll-call in the company morning and night.
+
+Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John Wilson, who
+put me singly through the exercises without arms for about four hours
+on my first day's duty, which was the third day of my enlistment, or
+perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant seemed greatly pleased
+with my progress, and told me that he should at once promote me to be
+the right guide of his awkward squad.
+
+On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three other
+recruits who had been members of the company for a week or more. That
+night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have received me into his
+good graces, told me that Wilson had said that that new man Jones beat
+everything that he had seen before; that learning to drill was to Jones
+"as easy as fallin' off a log." I remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.
+
+The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the
+afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour I was
+exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved very
+unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost swore at me.
+He placed my gun at the _carry_, and called repeated attention to the
+exact description of the position, contained in the language of Hardee:
+"The piece in the right hand, the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in
+the hollow of the shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging
+nearly at its full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger
+embracing the guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping
+the swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little
+finger." I simply could not execute the _shoulder_, or _carry_, with any
+precision, although the positions of _support, right-shoulder-shift,
+present,_ and all the rest, gave me no trouble after they were reached;
+reaching them, from the _shoulder_ was the great trouble.
+
+Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the Captain.
+
+Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant Wilson
+gives a bad report of you."
+
+"I do the best I can, Captain."
+
+"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some peculiar
+point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives you great
+praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says you will not
+learn the manual."
+
+"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something wrong
+about it."
+
+"You find the manual difficult?"
+
+"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me nervous."
+
+"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"
+
+"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."
+
+"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I have a
+clew to the situation."
+
+Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made me take
+position. He also took position, with a rifle at his side.
+
+"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be the
+_shoulder_ natural to you."
+
+His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm of his
+left hand under the butt.
+
+"Now," said he, "this is the _shoulder_ of the heavy infantry manual. I
+think you were drilled once in a company which had this _shoulder_. It
+may not have been in your recent regiment that you were so drilled, for
+this _shoulder_ obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before
+the war. Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions
+now--_Support_--ARMS!"
+
+The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the stock;
+his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting on the
+forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.
+
+I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.
+
+"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other
+positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the _shoulder_, or
+_carry_, as we sometimes call it, that has been changed. You will like
+the new drill."
+
+He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had difficulty,
+yet I had some success.
+
+"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.
+
+I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I had
+been confused by the light infantry _carry_, never having seen drill
+except from the heavy infantry _shoulder_. Wilson kept me at work for
+almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with my progress. Under his
+training I was soon able to drill with the company.
+
+Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see Richmond.
+He had got permission to go into town on the next day. The Captain
+readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four hours, and Bellot
+and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We saw the State House,
+and the Confederate Congress in session, and wandered down to the river
+and took a long look at the Libby Prison.
+
+The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's left, but
+now the regiment took position in the front, the lines having been
+extended still farther to the left. A battery at our right--some
+distance away--would throw a few shells over at the Yankees, and their
+guns would reply; beyond this almost daily artillery practice, nothing
+unusual occurred.
+
+One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to get my
+arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front, Corporal
+Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for his sword. He
+led us through our pickets and straight on toward the river. The slope
+of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were clumps of pine bushes
+which hid us from any casual view from either flank; and as for the
+river swamp in our front, unless a man had been on its hither edge, we
+were perfectly screened. I observed that, as we approached the swamp,
+the Captain advanced more stealthily, keeping in the thickest and
+tallest of the bushes. Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending
+over and slipping along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader.
+The river bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a
+dense forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
+which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
+Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the purpose
+of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it was not
+merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.
+
+We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the Captain
+signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and stood behind a
+tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body this way and that;
+then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth here was less thick, the
+trees larger. I could see nothing, in any direction, except trees and
+muddy water. The Captain went on again for a few paces, and stopped with
+a jerk. After a little he beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded
+slowly on. Before we reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get
+behind trees.
+
+From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in another.
+There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the Captain was
+still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see that his whole
+attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at my right, was silent
+and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather than saw, that there was
+something in front of us, and I kept my eyes intent upon a narrow aisle
+just beyond me. All at once a man in dark-blue dress passed across the
+opening; I knew instantly that he was a Yankee, although I had never
+seen one in my life, and instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but
+he was gone. Now, looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other
+blue men behind trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were
+about sixty yards from us; I supposed they were part of their
+picket-line. I had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and
+consulted the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.
+
+Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side of the
+Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool stretching in their
+front, and were not very watchful. We remained stiff in our places for
+four or five minutes; then the Captain moved slowly backward and gave us
+a sign to follow.
+
+This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it made me
+feel that the Captain was favourable to me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three days'
+rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little. Everybody
+said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had occasion to use
+the word, had thought of it as rãtions. I think I called it rãtions once
+or twice before I got straight. I remembered Dr. Frost's advice to hold
+fast any slightest clew, and felt that possibly this word might, in the
+future, prove a beginning.
+
+The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle. For a
+day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the part of
+Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody seemed to know
+where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave occasion for the talk.
+From what I could hear, it seemed to be thought generally that Jackson
+was marching on Washington, but some of the most serious of the men
+believed exactly the contrary; they believed that Jackson was very near
+to Lee's army.
+
+The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready for the
+march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe Bellot was
+lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that he, too, was
+awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and sometimes confused,
+thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not that I should soon see
+actual war, and I was far from certain that I could stand it. I had
+never fired a shot at a man; no man had ever fired at me. I fully
+appreciated the fact of the difference between other men and me;
+perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I had heard and had read that most
+men in battle are able from motives of pride to do their duty; but I was
+certainly not like most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had
+homes to fight for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at
+all; but I was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction
+called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown
+somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as theirs; if
+I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight for the homes of
+my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home, vague, it is true, but as
+real as theirs, and Southern homes were in danger from the invaders. I
+_must_ fight for Southern homes--for _my_ home; but could I stand up
+with my comrades in the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I
+not one of a few? perhaps unique even?
+
+Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but retain my
+presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature by the
+resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what is courage
+if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If my mind fail, I
+shall have no courage: this is to think in a circle. I felt that I
+should prefer death to cowardice--the thought gave me momentary comfort.
+
+But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial comes? A
+coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an outcast from men.
+
+And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I doubted it
+and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt comforted me. To be
+killed was no worse than to kill.
+
+Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that sustained
+_him_ at this moment? If not now, at least shortly, he would give orders
+which must result in the death of thousands; it was enough to craze a
+general. How could he, reputed so good, give such orders? Could any
+success atone for so much disaster? What could be in the mind of General
+Lee to make him consent to such sacrifice? It must be that he feels
+forced; he cannot do it willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up
+the contest--to yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two
+nations into despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many
+stricken homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that
+sustains General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and
+simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then President
+Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the burden? No. What
+then? The country.
+
+And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People? What is
+land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know. But, supposing
+that I have people and land--what is the country for which we fight?
+Will the enemy take our people, and take our land, if we do not beat
+them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to subjection. I shall
+become a dependant upon them. I shall be constrained in my liberties;
+part of my labour will go to them against my will. My property, if I
+have any, will be taken from me in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not
+wholly, at least in a measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not
+be free.
+
+But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free? Yes, I
+shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to got aid
+from the country, I shall be part of the country and can enjoy my will,
+because I will to be part of my country and to help build up her
+greatness and sustain and improve her institutions.
+
+Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an
+institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is it,
+then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a growth,
+a development--a development of what? Is it material? No, it is moral;
+it is _soul_--then I thought I could see what is meant by the country
+and by her institutions. The country is the spirit of the nation--and it
+is deathless. It is not doomed to subjection; take the land--enslave the
+people--and yet will that spirit live and act and have a body. Let our
+enemies prevail over our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is
+good in our institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true
+idea is imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.
+
+Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the false. The
+false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in order to
+spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be better or
+stronger by that?
+
+Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by good that
+evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us, must we not
+fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war. Must we submit?
+We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is repugnant to the spirit of
+the nation; death is better than submission. But killing, is it not
+crime? Is crime better than submission? No; submission is better than
+crime But is not submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement
+of the law of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime?
+To avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing? It
+seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is because the
+spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the world. The
+world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and demands life and
+freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not so unselfish; the
+spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism; the world-spirit
+raises high the principle of philanthropy universal. The country has not
+developed the world-idea, and will not, except feebly; but she will at
+last, and will be loyal to the spirit of the world. Then, unless I am
+sustained by a greater power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the
+South. I must kill and must be killed.
+
+But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into a less
+readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to me I know
+not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance incomprehensible and
+unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will not my conscience force
+me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse than death.
+
+I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose, and
+walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the morrow might
+be still more soundly sleeping.
+
+Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet. I
+approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."
+
+"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but cannot."
+
+"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by ourselves."
+
+His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct toward the
+men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning duties, yet he was
+very sympathetic in personal matters, and in private talk was more
+courteous and kind toward a private than toward an equal. I understood
+well enough that it was through sympathy that he had invited me
+to unburden.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I fear."
+
+"May I ask what it is that you fear?"
+
+"I fear that I am a coward."
+
+"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"
+
+"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."
+
+"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close place when
+you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were, if the truth
+has been told."
+
+"That was not I; I am now another man."
+
+"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."
+
+"Proving a coward," I replied.
+
+"You fear that you will fear?" said he.
+
+"That is exactly it."
+
+"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."
+
+"I fear that danger will make me fear."
+
+"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least anybody who
+has something more than the mere fearlessness of the brute that cannot
+realize danger."
+
+"Do you fear, too, Captain?"
+
+The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew that his
+silence was rebuke.
+
+"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak of
+myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not to be
+thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I like the
+thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are very distasteful
+to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing itself to pain; I fear
+pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear. I do not think the fear of
+death is unmanly, for it is human. Those who do not fear death do not
+love life. Please tell me if you love life."
+
+"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."
+
+"Do you fear death?"
+
+"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were indifferent to
+death I should have no fear of being afraid."
+
+"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in the
+swamp," said he.
+
+"I don't think I had great fear."
+
+"Yet you were in danger there."
+
+"Very little, I think, Captain."
+
+"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have ended
+your life."
+
+"I did not realize the situation, then."
+
+"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then," said he.
+
+"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"
+
+"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."
+
+"But you did not fear."
+
+"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a
+knowledge of danger?"
+
+"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that a man
+may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I am afraid
+that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in duty."
+
+"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail in
+duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case. An army
+consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be broken. It is
+those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause disorganization. The
+touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I think, sir; but for the man
+who will do his duty such dependence should not be taught. Good men,
+instructed to depend on comrades will be demoralized when comrades
+forsake them. Our method of battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should
+be more open. Many reasons might be urged for that change, but the one
+we are now considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend
+on weak men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not
+really a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so.
+Every man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless
+of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to fight,
+sir; there are other duties more suited to them."
+
+"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.
+
+"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to test
+you now?"
+
+"To test me?"
+
+"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage." His
+voice had become stern.
+
+I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I felt
+that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position into
+which my fears were working to thrust me.
+
+"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of this
+suspense."
+
+"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense
+concerning danger?"
+
+I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and replied, "Yes,
+Captain, danger is better than fear."
+
+"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I had the
+right to incur danger uselessly."
+
+"And how did you settle that?"
+
+"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."
+
+He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may depress
+you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a soldier as Company
+H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only yesterday, remarked that
+you were the best-drilled man in the company, and showed astonishment
+that a raw recruit, in less than two weeks, should gain such a standing.
+I thought it advisable to say to him that your education had included
+some military training, and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped
+his official manner. "It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly
+a veteran than any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have
+been wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed
+signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that you
+have already seen battle more than once."
+
+"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at all. I am a
+different man."
+
+"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I
+appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I think
+every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a friend, that you
+feel fear more sensitively because you live in the subjective; you feel
+thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are exclusive."
+
+"I am forced to be so, Captain."
+
+"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."
+
+"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on myself."
+
+"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it
+positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though peculiar; I
+fancy that you heighten them by your self-concentration. The world and
+objects in it divert other men, while your attention is upon your own
+feelings. Pardon me for saying that you think of little except yourself.
+This new old experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution
+to your soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men
+think of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be
+all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will be
+good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."
+
+"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other men and
+other things," I said.
+
+"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give you
+that test?"
+
+"Yes, sir; if you please."
+
+"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do not
+need it," said he.
+
+"How so, Captain?"
+
+"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed to test
+you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to it. Have you
+lost interest in it?"
+
+"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good time."
+
+"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from courage,
+but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at once reject my
+proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it; but, having begun,
+I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will assign you some special duty
+that will keep you out of battle--such as guarding the baggage, or other
+duty in the rear."
+
+I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.
+
+"Why do you hesitate?"
+
+"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.
+
+"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but did you
+not urge me on?"
+
+"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."
+
+"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept my
+offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not see that
+what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You are not
+intimidated at the prospect of battle."
+
+"I fear that I shall be," said I.
+
+"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your indignation
+seems no less natural to yourself than it does to me."
+
+"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my fears?"
+
+"Oblige me by explaining."
+
+"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the purpose
+of concealing my fear?"
+
+"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the possibility--the
+strong possibility--of death," said he, gravely.
+
+"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I shall do
+when it is near is not sure."
+
+"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice, assuming
+again the relation of an officer.
+
+"I do not mean it that way, Captain."
+
+"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least to
+cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch you."
+
+"I wish I could banish fear," said I.
+
+"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to make
+yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."
+
+"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will not weaken
+in the time of trial?"
+
+"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again will and
+will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you are ordered
+to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you not decided that
+you will march with us?"
+
+"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I expect
+to march."
+
+"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not know that
+you will march to the battlefield?"
+
+"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I should
+have no fear of myself."
+
+"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to run away
+when we get into battle?"
+
+"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be able to
+have any intention at all."
+
+"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"
+
+"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and fear
+the test."
+
+"You _can_ determine that you will act the man," said he. Then, kindly:
+"I have no fears that you will do otherwise, but"--and here his voice
+again became stern--"the determination will rid you of your present
+fears. Exert your will, and this nightmare will go."
+
+"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"
+
+"_You_ can. You can drive away your present fear of yourself, at the
+very least."
+
+"How can I do it, Captain?"
+
+"I shall give you one more test."
+
+"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that would
+confirm my fear."
+
+"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your present
+state of mind--"
+
+"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"
+
+"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But allow
+me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you are, or you
+will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect before I begin."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say three,
+you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"
+
+If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all my fears
+were gone.
+
+"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even hesitatingly.
+
+"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my duty."
+
+"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse me for
+employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I may make a
+suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, that you will
+encourage henceforth, the companionship of the men."
+
+"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."
+
+"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I am
+sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented itself to
+your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."
+
+"Good night, Captain," said I.
+
+But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his character
+as my commander.
+
+"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for all your
+physical strength to-morrow--and after."
+
+I was almost happy.
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+IN THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+     "If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
+     Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."
+                                         --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of itself;
+the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else we were
+creatures dominated by our surroundings.
+
+I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an unknown
+sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I touched a larger
+world, it was only through the medium of the company in its relations to
+that world. I had formed some attachments,--ties which have lasted
+through life thus far, and will always last,--but these attachments were
+immediate only, and, so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not
+directly could I see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside
+the narrow bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for
+that world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I
+called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to every
+other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal world
+rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although the ideal
+after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me must be lacking in
+the varying quality of light, and the delicate degrees of sweetness and
+truth which home and friends and all the material good of earth were
+said to assume for charming their possessors. The day brought me into
+contact with men; the night left me alone with myself. In my presence
+men spoke of homes far away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and
+children. I could see how deep was the interest which moved them to
+speak, and, in a measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was
+mystery rather than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could
+fill these pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps,
+for my memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should
+say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard with
+the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier. Absorbed in
+reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world of which I knew
+so little, it is not to be doubted that I constructed ideals far beyond
+the humdrum reality of home life, impracticable ideals that tended only
+to separate me more from other men. Their world was not my world; this I
+knew full well, and I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude
+treatment marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a
+friend. My weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left
+me more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have
+been hopeless.
+
+Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree,
+everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and although I
+was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my mind and
+hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over myself, and I hoped
+that I should always determine to live the life of a healthy human
+being, that I should be able to accept the relationships which, through
+Company H, bound me to all men and all things, and that my interest
+henceforth would be diversified--touching the world and what is in it
+rather than myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain
+change was in the banishment of my former indifference.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we yet held
+our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was heard in every
+regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored in Richmond.
+
+"_Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"_ shouted
+Orderly-sergeant Mackay.
+
+By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid stride.
+Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.
+
+At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see before us
+and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in motion.
+
+Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding back
+along the line of the Light Division.
+
+Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the roar of
+cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and meadows; the
+passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go through gaps in
+rail fences.
+
+And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising from our
+left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait. The noise of
+battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company on our right is
+passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes the topmost rail at
+the left and hurls it clear over their heads. Then I see men pale, and I
+know that my own face is white.
+
+Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which rises to
+our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No breaking of ranks
+for rest or for water; the long night through we lie on our arms.
+
+Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry. At
+sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and down
+country roads; we go southeast.
+
+The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company C, the
+right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.
+
+Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An orderly
+comes to Captain Haskell.
+
+"_Company H!_ ATTENTION!"
+
+Every man is in his place--alert.
+
+"_Forward_--MARCH!"
+
+"_By the right flank_--MARCH!"
+
+"HALT!--FRONT!"
+
+"_Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take
+intervals--double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the left of
+Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or more, through
+woods and fields, the brigade following in line of battle.
+
+About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open
+land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had
+halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From this
+position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a group of
+horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road, or line, that
+would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at once in place. The
+distance was too great to tell the uniforms of the party of horsemen;
+but, of course, they could be only Yankees.
+
+Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The
+horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen or
+twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the most
+eligible one of the group, and fire.
+
+Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his
+shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to
+fire; they may be our men."
+
+The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put his
+handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A horseman
+advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company H, and said,
+"They are General Jackson and his staff."
+
+Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see tents--a
+camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a few men
+running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been abandoned
+hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly; they were curious
+to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the cracking of rifles was heard,
+and the singing of bullets, and the voice of Captain Haskell commanding,
+"_Lie down!_"
+
+Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent. The Yankee
+skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind trees on the
+opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I could see them looking
+out from behind the trees and firing. I took good aim at one and pulled
+the trigger; his bullet came back at me; I loaded and fired; I saw him
+no more, but I could see the smoke shoot out from the side of the tree
+and hear his bullet sing. I thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw
+him again, and fired, and missed. Then I carefully considered the
+distance, and concluded that it was greater than I had first thought. I
+raised the sliding sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the
+man, whom I could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the
+tree, and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind
+the tree.
+
+We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally; other men
+slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade was behind us,
+waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly I heard Captain
+Haskell's voice ordering us forward at double-quick. We ran down the
+hill into the valley below; there we found a shallow creek with steep
+banks covered with briers. We beat down the briers with our guns, and
+scrambled through to the other side of the creek in time to see the
+Yankees run scattering through the woods and away. We reached their
+position and rested while the brigade found a crossing and formed again
+in our rear. I searched for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but
+found none; yet I felt sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked
+another out from the tree above him.
+
+We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more. At
+length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed the
+withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them again until
+we should strike their main lines.
+
+Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt Jackson's--could
+be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left, marching forward and
+yet at a distance from our own line. We reached an elevated clearing,
+and halted. The brigade came up, and we returned to our position in the
+line of battle--on the left of the First. It was about three o'clock; to
+the right, far away, we could hear the pounding of artillery, while to
+the southeast, somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other
+side of the Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell.
+Shells from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped
+headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began firing.
+The line of infantry hugged the ground.
+
+Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a hollow;
+the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was on the hill
+beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were there and at
+work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were coming into line far
+to our right.
+
+General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the wooded
+slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the wooded
+hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill, still in
+the woods.
+
+The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted and
+re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was distinct;
+shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the trunks of the
+trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick with men firing
+into us in the woods. Those in our front were Zouaves, with big, baggy,
+red breeches. We began to fire kneeling. Leaves fell from branches above
+us, and branches fell, cut down by artillery. Butler, of our company,
+lying at my right hand, gave a howl of pain; his head was bathed in
+blood. Lieutenant Rhett was dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in
+the Yankee camp. He had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long
+aim, and fired; lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the
+effect, and yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot.
+Lieutenant Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker.
+Our colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two
+colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of the
+Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.
+
+A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--
+
+"_Bri-ga-a-a-de_--ATTENTION!"
+
+"_Fi-i-i-x_--BAYONETS!"
+
+"_For-w-a-r-d_--" and the next I knew men were dropping down all around
+me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute did we go forward. From
+front and left came a tempest of lead; again the colours--both--fell,
+and all the colour-guard. The colonel raised the colours. We staggered
+and fell back; the retreat through the woods became disorder.
+
+On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only six, but
+one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced, but shell and
+shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again in full action. We
+hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some regiment--the Thirtieth
+North Carolina--was advancing on our right. Captain Haskell and his six
+men joined this regiment, placing themselves on its left. The Thirtieth
+went forward through the woods--reached the open--and charged.
+
+The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man seeing
+whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his voice at
+its worst.
+
+Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found a sunken
+road, and the temptation was too great--down into the friendly road we
+fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the dust.
+
+The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the men
+calmly looked at their officers.
+
+A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging, gesticulating.
+He got near to Haskell--
+
+"Who _are_ you?" shouted our Captain.
+
+"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."
+
+"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.
+
+Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the
+Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the battle-flag
+high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up the hill.
+
+Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet, and
+followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world hideous
+with yells.
+
+And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great horse was
+lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was gained.
+
+The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North Carolina
+regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six were yet
+unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on its left, and
+charged with it for another position. Believe it or not, the same thing
+recurred; the regiment charged well; from the smoke in front death came
+out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be crossed, and was not crossed;
+down the men all went to save their lives.
+
+And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the road.
+
+Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the regiment;
+he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he looked not
+back, but forward.
+
+The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one of the
+six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that the regiment
+was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his Captain and told him
+that the regiment did not follow.
+
+The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I tell
+you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."
+
+Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag would
+not be taken back to the regiment lying down.
+
+On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The bullets
+and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came on--and the
+others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and tried to load, but
+could not. I felt a great pain strike under my belt and was afraid to
+look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at length I exerted my will,
+and controlled my fear, and saw my trousers torn. My first wound had
+deadened my leg, but I felt no great pain--the leg was numb. The new
+blow was torture. I managed to take down my clothing, and saw a great
+blue-black spot on my groin. I was confused, and wondered where the
+bullet went, and perhaps became unconscious.
+
+Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet lay on
+the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me. Had a tide
+of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly called for help, and
+I crawled to the voice, but could give no help except to cut a shoe from
+a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles could be seen,--the enemy's
+rifles,--they came nearer and nearer, and I felt doomed to capture.
+
+Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom a host
+of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the last charge
+of Gaines's Mill.
+
+"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two replied:--
+
+"Hood's brigade."
+
+"The Hampton Legion."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and moved and
+disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men with torches
+and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into the darkness by
+the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and for others who could
+not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina! First South Carolina!" and
+I gathered up my strength and cried, "Here!" Louis Bellot and two others
+came to me. They carried me tenderly away, but not far; still in the
+field of blood they laid me down on the hillside--and a night of horror
+passed slowly away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to the
+field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the battlefield. Our
+way was through scattered corpses. We passed by many Zouaves, lying
+stiff and stark; one I shall always call to mind: he was lying flat on
+his back, the soles of his feet firm on the ground, his knees drawn up
+to right angles above, and with his elbows planted on the grass, his
+fingers clinched the air. His open mouth grinned ghastly on us as
+we went by.
+
+At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous that I
+was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that was all. I
+had already found out that the bullet had passed entirely through the
+fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears; but the limb now gave me
+great pain, and I should have been glad to have it dressed. I was laid
+upon the ground under a tree and remained there until night, when I was
+put with others into an ambulance and taken to some station on some
+railroad--I have never known what station or what road. The journey was
+painful. I was in the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough
+roads, halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead.
+The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and begging for
+this or that. I did not know their voices; they were not of our company.
+But some time in the night I learned somehow--I suppose by his companion
+calling his name--that one of the men below me was named Virgil Harley.
+Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley? Why, I knew that name once! Surely I
+knew that name in South Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made
+aware that Virgil Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the
+railroad, I was taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil
+Harley. "He is dead," was the answer.
+
+Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest opportunity,
+now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able to tell me of
+myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had but heard his voice
+in groans that ended in the death-rattle.
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+A BROKEN MUSKET
+
+                                "What seest thou else
+     In the dark backward and abysm of time?
+     If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,
+     How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early morning.
+Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister unto the needs of
+the suffering; delicacies were served bountifully, and hearts as well as
+stomachs were cheered; there were evidences of sympathy and honour on
+every hand.
+
+Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old
+tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My clothing was
+cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of dirt and even
+worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the nurse brought me the
+contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the rest, a marble and a
+flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in the watch-pocket of my
+trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my "taw" in that pocket; the
+bullet had struck the marble, which had saved me from a serious if not
+fatal wound.
+
+The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred wounded
+men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few belonging to my
+regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance was quickly made,
+however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I think, was ever called
+by his name. He was Georgia, or Alabama,--his State, whatever that was.
+My neighbours called me, of course, South Carolina.
+
+Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot. I
+remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in ward
+vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I noticed that
+he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which were amazingly big
+blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why such buttons had been
+used. He replied that, a month before he had been on furlough at his
+home in Alabama, and that his mother had made him two new shirts, and
+had made use of the extraordinary objects which I now saw because they
+were all she had. He had told her jestingly that she was putting that
+big blue button on the middle of his breast to be a target for some
+Yankee; and, sure enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital
+was a rifle shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama
+laughed, too, but not long. He died.
+
+For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life there was
+totally void of incident. After the first week, in which we learned of
+the further successes of the Confederate arms and of our final check at
+Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt concerning Lee's army, now
+doing nothing more than watching McClellan, who had intrenched on the
+river below Richmond, under the protection of the Federal fleet. We
+learned with some degree of interest that another Federal army was
+organizing under General Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern
+hopes were so high in consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign,
+and the manifest safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no
+concern; of course I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I
+found myself.
+
+At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a little, and
+in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on crutches. On the
+first day of August I was surprised to see Joe Bellot enter the ward.
+The brigade had marched into Richmond, and was about to take the cars
+for Gordonsville in order to join Jackson, who was making head against
+Pope. It was only a few minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had
+to hurry back to the command.
+
+Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a
+furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home was
+Company H.
+
+I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong rapidly, when
+the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks at Cedar Run. Then
+my feverish anxiety to see the one or two persons in the world whom I
+loved became intense. I walked into the surgeon's office, keeping myself
+straight, and asked an order remanding me to my company. He flatly
+refused to give it. Said he, "You would never reach your company; where
+is it, by the way?"
+
+"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.
+
+"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."
+
+On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You would
+have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it would
+be insane."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."
+
+"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a half by
+getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me again in
+about a week."
+
+I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving me my
+papers, by means of which I got transportation to Gordonsville, where I
+arrived, in company with many soldiers returning to their commands, on
+August 22d. From Gordonsville I took the road north afoot. There was no
+difficulty in knowing the way, for there was no lack of men and wagons
+going and returning. I had filled a haversack with food before I left
+Richmond--enough for two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were
+all my possessions.
+
+At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot dusty
+road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which stopped as I
+approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to him. He said: "Don't
+go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man in the road and he's
+a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go round him." I thanked the
+teamster, who drove on. At the foot of the ascending hill I looked ahead
+to see whether there was a way to get round it, but the road seemed
+better than any other way. Heavy clouds were rolling up from the south,
+with wind and thunder. A farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the
+road; I wanted to get there if possible before the rain. In the road I
+saw nobody. I walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend
+the wagoner was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the
+side of the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into
+the middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun
+at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a word.
+Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an unpleasant
+experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he changed his attitude
+at once, and began the second part of his programme. He dropped his
+piece to the position of ordered arms, kept himself erect as on
+dress-parade, raised his right hand high, and shouted, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip round him,
+keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun might, after all,
+be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his cry, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him, and
+seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks with
+overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by cattle, I
+was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could hear behind me
+the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had lost his reason
+in battle.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting to
+surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were moving;
+Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General Gregg, riding at
+the head of his brigade; then one regiment after another till the
+last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C leading. I remained
+behind the tree; at last I could see Captain Haskell marching by the
+side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I stepped out and marched by the
+side of the Captain. At first, in the twilight, he did not know me;
+then, with a touch of gladness in his voice, he said: "I did not expect
+you back so soon. Are you fully recovered?"
+
+"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.
+
+He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and had me
+tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He informed me
+briefly of the movements which had taken place recently. The regiment
+had been under fire in the battle with Banks, but had not suffered any
+loss. On this day--the 24th--the regiment had been under fire of the
+Federal artillery on the Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a
+place called Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first
+movements of an active campaign.
+
+The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in the
+battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and hardship
+had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was almost the only
+officer in the company. My mess had broken up. There were but four
+remaining of the original nine, and these four had found it more
+convenient for two men, or even one, to form a mess. I found a companion
+in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been wounded severely at Gaines's Mill.
+Bellot had a big quart cup in which we boiled soup, and coffee when we
+had any, or burnt-bread for coffee when the real stuff was lacking.
+Flour and bacon were issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth,
+or gum-blanket as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by
+spreading it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When
+these boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender
+rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the fire on
+wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food brought from
+Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's ration was issued.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's right. I
+had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed so as to keep
+up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in the ranks or not,
+as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men. The day's march was
+something terrible. We went west, and northwest, and north, fording
+streams, taking short cuts across fields, hurrying on and on. No train
+of wagons delayed our march; our next rations must be won from the
+enemy. Jackson's rule in marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then
+ten minutes rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched,
+and rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at
+once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac near a
+village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles to the west
+of Pope's right flank.
+
+There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A detail from
+each company was ordered to gather the green ears from some fields of
+corn purchased for the use of the government. That night I committed the
+crime of eating eighteen of the ears half roasted.
+
+At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon straggled. I
+was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a place for me in some
+ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick woods and lay down; I
+slept, and when I awoke the sun was in mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps
+was ten miles ahead, but I was no longer ill. The troops had all passed
+me; there were no men on the road except a few stragglers like myself. I
+hurried forward through White Plains--then along a railroad through a
+gap in some mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last,
+about ten o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in
+despair, I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.
+
+Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry toward
+the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at sunrise, and
+soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our troops. Up to this
+time I had been unarmed, and all the men destitute of food; here now was
+an embarrassment of riches. I got a short Enfield rifle, marked for
+eleven hundred yards. Everything was in abundance except good water. The
+troops of Jackson and Ewell and Hill crammed their haversacks, and
+loaded themselves with whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies
+in too many cases. Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of
+smoking tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of
+vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea,
+medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken or
+burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were forced to
+drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its margin, and I know
+not what horrors beneath its green, slimy surface. Before daylight of
+the 28th we marched northward in the glare of the burning cars and
+camps. We crossed Bull Run on a bridge, some of the men fording; here we
+got better water, but not good water.
+
+In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed to know
+the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we making for
+Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain. He told me that
+he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place, but that he had no
+doubt we should be able to hold our own until Longstreet could force his
+way to our help. We were between Pope's army and Washington, and it was
+certain that Pope would make every effort to crush Jackson.
+
+About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west, down the
+Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's division had
+marched to Centreville; the other divisions of Jackson's corps were at
+the west, and beyond Bull Run. After matching a mile or two we could
+see to the eastward and south, great clouds of dust rolling up above the
+woods, evidently made by a column in march upon the road by which, we
+had that morning advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that
+Pope's army--or a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope
+was hot after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and
+halted in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most
+of us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and
+were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty. My
+increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in fact, the
+greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and accoutrements--consisted in
+food which diminished at short intervals. We could not yet
+expect rations.
+
+We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to march, and
+moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed line facing
+south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed the whole of
+Hill's division was there, though I could see only our regiment. Soon
+firing began at our right and right front; it increased in volume, and
+artillery and musketry roared and subsided until dark and after. At
+dark, the brigade again moved to the right, seemingly to support the
+troops that had been engaged, and which we found to be Ewell's division.
+
+We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to preserve
+the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of the enemy was
+passing just beyond the hills in front of us. Suddenly the sound of many
+voices broke out beyond the hills. The Federal column was cheering. Near
+and far the cry rose and fell as one command after another took it from
+the next. What the noise was made for I never knew; probably Pope's
+sanguine order, in which he expressed the certainty of having "the whole
+crowd bagged," had been made known to his troops for the purpose of
+encouraging them. Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what
+good fortune had made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet
+I believe that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night,
+had confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a
+certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one
+more victory.
+
+Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I do not
+know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very far, and that
+when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing northeast. Already the
+sound of musketry and cannon had been heard close in our front. Our
+regiment, left in front, was in the woods. We brought our right in
+front, and then the brigade moved forward down a slope to an
+unfinished railroad.
+
+Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that he would
+not need it.
+
+Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers. The
+regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into the fields
+beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company H. The regiment
+met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments from the brigade were
+hurried to the support of the First, which, by this time, was falling
+back before a full division of the enemy. The brigade retired in good
+order to the railroad, and Company H was ordered back into the battle
+line on the left of the First.
+
+[Illustration: Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"]
+
+It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment, under
+Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods as
+skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We came up
+with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began firing. We
+advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly through the woods.
+After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing that our small force was
+much too far from support, order was given to the skirmishers to retire;
+a heavy line of the enemy had been developed. This order did not reach
+my ears. I suppose that I was in the very act of firing when the order
+was given. While reloading, I became aware that the company had retired,
+as I could see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line
+some thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I
+feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many rifles.
+The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from my tree to
+another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar movement--and again--at
+each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and considering in front. At last
+I was out of sight of the enemy, and also out of sight of Company H.
+
+The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg had not
+regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well as weak. I
+crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for water. Still no
+enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or pool, following the wet
+place down a gentle slope, which inclined to my right oblique as I
+retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank my fill; then I filled my
+canteen and rose to my feet refreshed.
+
+Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar spanning the
+little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there for a second. Here
+was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide, this spot was what I
+should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen tree, mingling with the
+copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began to
+wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I crossed
+here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the right. What
+was the secret of the influence which the spot held over me? I had seen
+it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly puzzled.
+
+On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I picked up
+the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up the stock. Why
+should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew not, but I knew that I
+was drawn in some way by it. On the stock were carved the letters J.B.
+Who had owned this gun? John Brown? James Butler? Then the thought came
+suddenly--why not Jones Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd?
+Did I know who I was, or where I had been, or where I had not been?
+
+A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I dropped the
+gun and ran.
+
+I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And now we
+made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our position
+was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade, which was
+posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all around us. Soon the
+blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began firing. The Federals sprang
+at once to trees and began popping away at us. The range was close.
+Grant was mortally hit. My group of four on that day was reduced to one
+man. Goettee fell, and Godley. We kept up the fight. But now a blue line
+of battle could be seen advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept
+coming, reserving their fire until they should pass beyond their
+skirmish-line. We should have withdrawn at once, but waited until the
+line of battle had reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to
+fall back. When we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us,
+and we lost some men.
+
+Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which was now
+the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of the corps.
+Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's line.
+
+General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of Pope's army,
+without severing communication with Longstreet; but the developments of
+the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope and Washington while yet
+the corps of Longstreet was two days' march behind, and beyond the Bull
+Run mountains. Pope had made dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay
+Longstreet he occupied with a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which
+Jackson had marched and I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his
+other divisions had marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to
+retreat toward the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division
+reached Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope
+was marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer
+Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which had
+occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the passage of
+Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was thus forced to
+yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during the night of the
+28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington without a battle, but he
+decided to overwhelm Jackson before Longstreet could reach the field,
+and attacked hotly on the Confederate left.
+
+The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in consequence
+of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of Pope to
+overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope until
+Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within six hours'
+march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying in the woods,
+Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat, were marching with
+rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in their front, where,
+upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing division after division
+into the fight.
+
+Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a rail
+fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far side of
+the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of our line did
+not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in the battle we were
+forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the Federals advancing
+through the field to turn our left.
+
+Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme left before
+the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their coming straight
+through the woods upon us. They reached the undergrowth which bordered
+the farther side of the railroad way. The orders of their officers
+could be heard. We lay in the open woods, each man behind a tree as far
+as was possible; but the trees were too few. The dense bushes, which had
+grown up in the edge of the railroad way, effectually concealed the
+enemy. We were hoping for them to come on and get into view, but they
+remained in the bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We
+returned their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots
+would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at the
+line of smoke in the thick bushes.
+
+Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had retired; but if
+they had done so, it was only to give place to a fresh body of troops,
+which opened upon us a new and terrific fire. We had nothing to do but
+to endure and fire into the bushes. If our line had attempted to cross
+the railroad, not one of us would have reached it; the Federals also
+were afraid to advance.
+
+Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was only
+premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we stood that
+day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal lines gave way,
+or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods were thick with dead.
+Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box were dead. Joe Bellot was
+fearfully wounded. Many had been carried to the rear, and many yet lay
+bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be taken out when the fight ceased.
+Each man lay behind the best tree he could get; the trees had become
+more plentiful. We fired lying, kneeling, standing, sometimes running;
+but the line held. If we had had but the smallest breastwork!--but
+we had none.
+
+In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a force
+around our left--through the open field; but each time they were driven
+back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we could not see,
+somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before this time Longstreet
+had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of great fighting came from
+the east and southeast.
+
+We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although our
+boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up the
+cartridges of our wounded and dead.
+
+Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive with
+Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened ranks,--no
+longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots went high; before
+the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they had not waited
+to reload.
+
+Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near that
+every shot told.
+
+Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected groups; they
+are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a towering man--his
+sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great form and his long red
+hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour of his bearing. He makes
+no pause. He strikes right and left. Men fall away from him. Our group
+is scattering, some to gain time to load, others in flight. The great
+sergeant rushes toward me; his gun rises again in his mighty hands, and
+the blow descends. I slip aside; the force of the blow almost carries
+him to the ground, but he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his
+gun back over his shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will
+strike. I raise my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his
+expression yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed
+determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes through an
+indescribable change as the blood spouts from his forehead and he falls
+lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my rear[7].
+
+[7] The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's
+brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back Gregg's
+worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade of Ewell's
+division. [ED.]
+
+Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to flee from
+either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold fast and
+fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I see our flag,
+and near it a flag of the Federals.
+
+In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is left of
+them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic
+Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's sake,
+stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the flag. Our
+line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling away. Defeat is
+here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will shine the brightest
+over America; but now from our rear a Confederate yell rises high and
+shrill through the bullet-scarred forest, and a fresh brigade advances
+at the charge, relieves the vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far
+back the Federal tide of war. It was none too soon.
+
+On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered
+roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen
+responded; we had lost none as prisoners.
+
+The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in reserve. We
+were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in the rear of our
+position of the 29th, and details were burying our dead, when we were
+ordered to form. We marched some distance to the left. A low
+grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail fence at the woods
+about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came amongst us from the
+fence at the woods, toward which we were marching in column of fours,
+right in front. I heard the order from Major McCrady--"_Battalion--by
+companies_!" and Haskell repeated--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_On
+the right--by file--into line--MARCH_!" This manoeuvre brought the
+regiment into column of companies still marching in its former
+direction, Company H being the rear of all.
+
+Again I heard McCrady--"_Battalion--by companies_!" and Haskell
+again--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_Left--half wheel_!" and
+Haskell--"_Left wheel_!"--then McCrady--"_Forward into line_," and both
+voices--"_Double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close fire and
+by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective companies executed
+simultaneously their work, and as their graduated distances demanded,
+rushed forward, with a speed constantly increasing toward the left
+company, Company H, which wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence
+from which the enemy fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell
+severely wounded.
+
+For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged. We heard
+the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further part.
+
+On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying under
+fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or Chantilly as the
+Yankees call it. The regiment did not become engaged.
+
+The campaign of eight days was over.
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+CAPTAIN HASKELL
+
+     "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
+       The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
+     Hath had elsewhere its setting,
+       And cometh from afar;
+         Not in entire forgetfulness,
+         And not in utter nakedness,
+     But trailing clouds of glory do we come
+     From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.
+
+I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe Bellot
+was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept alone.
+
+For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one of
+these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me to
+accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was being
+done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he ordered in
+clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the duty had ended,
+he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree yonder."
+
+The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left--- that is,
+the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both vedettes and
+pickets, so far as they could be seen for the irregularities of ground.
+Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw off all official reserve.
+
+"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company did its
+full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."
+
+"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when the
+Yankees made that last charge."
+
+"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved earlier,"
+said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a little to the right
+of our position, the men fought the enemy with stones for lack of
+cartridges."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next movement?"
+
+"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am convinced
+that we cannot remain where we are."
+
+"Why?" I asked.
+
+"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I am told
+that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville. The bridges
+are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to rebuild them, as they
+would be constantly in danger from the enemy's cavalry. I am informed
+that McClellan's whole army, as well as Burnside's corps from North
+Carolina, has joined Pope; General McClellan is said to be in command.
+If Pope's army, which we have just fought, was larger than ours, then
+McClellan's combined forces must be more than twice as great as
+General Lee's."
+
+"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said I.
+
+"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I speculate also.
+It seems to me that every mile of a further advance would but take from
+our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If we could seize
+Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do that, I think, and as
+for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it. Even to sit down here could
+do us no good, I imagine; our communications would be always
+interrupted."
+
+"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I asked.
+
+"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am puzzled,"
+he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an opportunity to gain time
+for the South to recuperate, if we make prudent demonstrations; but an
+actual advance does not appear possible. General Lee may make a show of
+advancing; I dare say we could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does
+not such manoeuvre meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our
+enemies know it or should know it."
+
+I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an instance
+of his unfailing habit of courtesy.
+
+"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here, and
+ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat, what other
+course is possible?"
+
+"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to the
+belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take Harper's
+Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland people."
+
+"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"
+
+"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a
+considerable garrison."
+
+"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like
+McClellan's?"
+
+"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once, I
+should think that there would then be no good reason for this army's
+crossing the river. But military success is said to be obtained, in the
+majority of cases, from the mistakes of the losers. It might be that we
+could take Harper's Ferry at very little cost; and even if we should
+fail, we should be prolonging the campaign upon ground that we cannot
+hope to occupy permanently, and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What
+I fear, however, is that the movement would bring on another general
+engagement; and I think you will agree with me in believing that we are
+not prepared for that."
+
+"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.
+
+"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"
+
+"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last
+experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday there
+happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of it."
+
+"May I ask what it was?"
+
+"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen before."
+
+"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are typical.
+Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in twenty
+other places."
+
+"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical features
+of the place that awoke recognition."
+
+"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.
+
+"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced as
+skirmishers?"
+
+"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the Captain.
+
+"And you remember the order to fall back?"
+
+"Certainly, since I took the initiative."
+
+"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the very
+moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it. At any
+rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and retreated as
+skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight. I saw some signs
+of water, and soon found a branch, at a place which impressed me so
+strongly that for a moment I forgot even that the battle was going on. I
+am almost certain that I had quenched my thirst at that spot once
+before. Besides, there was an extraordinary--"
+
+"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the first battle
+of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last year's battle,
+you came upon it from the east or the south. The positions of the armies
+the other day were almost opposite their positions last year. In
+sixty-one the Federals had almost our position of last Friday. It will
+be well to find out what South Carolina troops were in the first battle.
+By the way, General Bee, who was killed there, was from South Carolina;
+I will ask Aleck to tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."
+
+"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had been
+there in some former life."
+
+"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a thought or
+have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with such an idea."
+
+"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"
+
+"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question surprises me,
+sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such subjects?"
+
+"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have once been
+familiar to me."
+
+"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is no
+telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine; you may
+have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading would have
+influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to thoughtful
+subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I think it quite
+probable, sir, without flattery, that at college your professor had an
+apt student."
+
+"But you do not believe the doctrine?"
+
+"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that we live
+after death."
+
+"And that I shall be I again and again?"
+
+"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you will be
+you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one death."
+
+"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your former
+experiences?"
+
+"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I might go
+so far as to say that it makes no difference."
+
+"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the past me
+with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought there, Captain.
+It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one before, and another
+now,--and that really I have lived this present time, or these present
+times, in two bodies and with two minds."
+
+"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought as to
+your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that memory is
+necessary to identity?"
+
+"And that is error?" I asked.
+
+"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves it. If
+memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you have a
+personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have you taken?"
+
+"I do remember some things," said I.
+
+"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof that you
+are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any one. Every one
+has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what happened when he was in
+swaddling clothes, though he is the same person now that he was then,
+which proves that although a person loses his memory, he does not on
+that account, sir, lose his identity."
+
+"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"
+
+"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."
+
+"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am, except that I
+am I."
+
+"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.
+
+"And I am distinct? independent?"
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the world
+who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know that we are
+seriously considering such a question."
+
+This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in some
+inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among fragments of
+thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten past. I felt helpless
+in the presence of the Captain; I could not presume to press his
+good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he added: "A man is
+distinct from other men, but not from himself. He constantly changes,
+and constantly remains the same."
+
+"That is hard to understand, Captain."
+
+"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything means every
+other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing, even the least,--if
+there be a least,--we should necessarily comprehend all things," said
+the Captain.
+
+Then he talked at large of the relations that bind everything--and of
+matter, force, spirit, which he called a trinity.
+
+"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God has the
+properties of matter?"
+
+"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter. Even our
+minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is anything else we
+conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are we bound to matter,
+and our thoughts are limited."
+
+"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"
+
+"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to image
+force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We try to
+image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to how God
+looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our imagination.
+Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot attribute
+extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the infinite mind has
+parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a contradiction."
+
+"Then God has no properties?"
+
+"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them, He has
+all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must attribute
+elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an elastic
+universal."
+
+"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force, and
+spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between God
+and matter?"
+
+"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above force."
+
+"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of it can
+be lost," said I.
+
+"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking at me
+fixedly, almost sternly.
+
+The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where _had_ I heard
+it? My attention had been so fastened on the Captain's philosophy that
+it now seemed to me that I had become unguarded, and that from outside
+of me a thought had been sent into my mind by some unknown power; I
+could not know whence the thought had come. I had suddenly felt that I
+had heard the theory in question. I knew that, the moment before, I
+could not have said what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without
+feeling that I was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain
+Haskell. Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had
+spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I had
+heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken
+differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a
+place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to
+something. But the flash had vanished.
+
+"It is lost," I said.
+
+"I am sorry," said he.
+
+"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot where I got
+water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun with J.B. on
+the stock."
+
+"Are you sure, Jones?"
+
+"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them closely."
+
+"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other
+reflections."
+
+"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."
+
+"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain; "you
+almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your name is
+Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of initials.
+Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."
+
+"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said I.
+
+"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult than
+J.B.?"
+
+"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three initials."
+
+"Yes, you are right in that," he said.
+
+"And I know I am right about my name." said I.
+
+"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We have
+three--or did have three--other men in the company whose initials are
+J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not recognize your own
+work in the lettering?"
+
+"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody might
+imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not another J.B. in
+Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant that he had any
+connection with that gun."
+
+"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"
+
+"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than Berwick.
+Beside, if you should change now, it would cause remark."
+
+"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South Carolina
+regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he. "You may go
+with me to see him to-night if you will."
+
+That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general, was
+able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of troops
+from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from that state.
+After hearing my description of the place which I thought I had
+revisited, he expressed the opinion that no Confederate troops at all
+had reached the spot in the battle of sixty-one. The place, he said,
+was more than a mile from the position of the Confederate army in the
+battle; still, he admitted, many scattered Federals retreated over the
+ground which interested me so greatly, and it was possible that some
+Confederates had been over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but
+as for pursuit, there had been none. I asked if it could have been
+possible for me to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the
+rear of the Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been
+allowed to keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in
+missing too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a
+baker's dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I
+think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there as a
+scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys call
+him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was at Stone
+Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell had turned our
+left and was marching down from Sudley. You might have been sent out to
+watch the enemy; yet I am confident that Evans would have used his
+cavalry for that purpose, for he had a company of cavalry in his
+command. A more plausible guess might be that you were out foraging that
+morning and got cut off. I will look up the Fourth South Carolina for
+you, and try to learn something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and
+I should not advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced
+that you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been
+recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection with
+your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find out who
+you are."
+
+"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose that a
+letter addressed to the manager would answer."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But--" I began.
+
+"But what?"
+
+"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an unknown man
+to tell me who I am?"
+
+"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who by this
+speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed on the roll
+of his company.
+
+As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain whether,
+in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged to the
+Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was pleased,
+evidently, by this question, and said that he should certainly try to
+hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should hope to be able to do
+so, as transfers were frequently granted, and as an application from me
+would come with peculiar force when the circumstances should be made
+known at headquarters. Of course, there would be no difficulty unless
+the application should be disapproved by my company commander, that is,
+the commander of my original company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C." inquiring if
+a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his house about October
+17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to learn from the hotel
+register, or from any other known source, the home of said Berwick.
+
+To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+BEYOND THE POTOMAC
+
+     "Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
+     And we are graced with wreaths of victory;
+     But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
+     I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
+     That will encounter with our glorious sun."
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in September, and
+marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th at White's Ford near
+Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in Maryland about midday of
+the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which, for the time, was too hard for
+me. My wound had again given me trouble; while wading the Potomac I
+noticed fresh blood on the scar.
+
+We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning Owens of
+Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly fell back and
+began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to him, but could do
+nothing to help him. He struggled for a few moments and became rigid.
+Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought there was no sense in going for
+help when all was over. The surgeon came and soon got Owens upon his
+feet. This incident made a deep impression on me. It seemed a forcible
+illustration of the trite sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life
+there's hope," and it became to me a source of frequent encouragement.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap of the
+Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful valley,
+dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody seamed
+to know.
+
+We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the Potomac at
+Williamsport, where we learned definitely that Longstreet's wing of the
+army had been held in Maryland. We marched southward to Martinsburg. The
+inhabitants were greatly rejoiced, and were surprised to find
+Confederate troops coming amongst them from the north. At Martinsburg
+were many evidences that we were near the enemy. Captain Haskell said
+that it was now clear that Lee intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that
+Longstreet's retention on the north side of the Potomac was part of the
+plan. We destroyed the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward
+the east. Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's
+Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon from
+our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing shells
+into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were replying.
+
+On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right. We found
+a narrow road running down the river,--the Shenandoah,--and moved on
+cautiously. There were strict orders to preserve silence. The guns were
+uncapped, to prevent an accidental discharge. In the middle of the night
+we moved out of the road and began to climb the hill on our left; it was
+very steep and rough; we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut
+a way for the artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.
+
+When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the enemy. Our
+batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of battle. The enemy
+replies with all his guns, but they were soon silenced. A brigade at our
+left seemed ready to advance; the enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then
+from our left a battery stormed forward to a new position much nearer to
+the enemy. We were ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to
+advance, but was at once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered,
+with eleven thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and
+munitions in great quantity.
+
+We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two, far-off
+sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after the surrender,
+A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only division at Harper's
+Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's corps having marched away,
+some said to the help of Longstreet on the north side of the Potomac;
+then we felt that some great event was near, and we wondered whether it
+should befall us to remain distant from the army during a great
+engagement.
+
+The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard in the
+north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in position
+while our details worked in organizing the captured property. The
+prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that they were to be
+released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered along the roads on the
+15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he rode by, and they seemed to
+admire him no less than his own men did. Late in the afternoon the
+regiment marched out of the lines of Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for
+the night some two miles to the west of the town.
+
+On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up the
+Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle were
+heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was hot, and
+the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick. About one
+o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond the river the
+march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had fallen out before we
+reached the river; now many more began to straggle. All the while the
+roar of a great battle extended across our front, mostly in our left
+front. We passed through a village called Sharpsburg. Its streets were
+encumbered with wagons, ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all
+the horrid results of war that choke the roads in rear of an army
+engaged in a great battle.
+
+Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one side of a
+hill and down the other side. On the slope of the opposite hill we
+halted, some of the troops being protected by a stone fence. The noise
+of battle was everywhere, and increasing at our right, almost on our
+right flank. Wounded men were streaming by; the litter-bearers were
+busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as waiting while in expectation of
+being called on to restore a lost battle from which the wounded and dead
+are being carried. Our time was near.
+
+Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg
+dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the
+colonels and the captains. We were to advance.
+
+While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect the
+capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before McClellan, who
+had collected an immense army and had advanced. The North had risen at
+the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac and McClellan's army,
+vast as it was, yet continued to receive reinforcements almost daily;
+his army was perhaps stronger than it had been before his disastrous
+campaign of the Chickahominy, his troops on James River had marched down
+the Peninsula and had been taken in transports to Fredericksburg and
+Alexandria. Porter's and Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had
+fought under Pope in the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had
+his own army, Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that
+could be got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize
+Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his
+lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in danger
+of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the surrender at
+Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched to reënforce
+Longstreet. Had not time been so pressing, Hill's division would not
+have been ordered to assault the works at Harper's Ferry--an assault
+which was begun and which was made unnecessary by the surrender.
+
+McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the separation
+of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's special order
+outlining his movements had fallen into General McClellan's hands. This
+order was dated September 9th; it gave instructions to Jackson to seize
+Harper's Ferry, and it directed the movements of Longstreet. With this
+information, General McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered
+General Franklin to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of
+Harper's Perry.
+
+On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked D.H. Hill's
+division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro, and Franklin
+carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though both of these
+attacks were successful, the resistance of the Confederates had in each
+case been sufficient to gain time for Jackson. On the 15th Harper's
+Ferry surrendered, and McClellan continued to advance; Longstreet
+prepared for battle.
+
+The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army, the
+Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.
+
+At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced march of
+seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found itself in front of
+the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting of Burnside's
+corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition in its front, and
+was now advancing to seize the ford at Shepherdstown and cut off Lee
+from the Potomac.
+
+A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few brigades
+which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout resistance, but,
+too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our right. Into the gap we
+were ordered. In the edge of the corn a rabbit jumped up and ran along
+in front of the line; a few shots were fired at it by some excited men
+on our left. These shots seemed the signal for the Federals to show
+themselves; they were in the corn, advancing upon us while we were
+moving upon them. There were three lines of them. Our charge broke their
+first line; it fell back on the second and both ran; the third line
+stood. We advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line
+fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of the
+hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also in thick
+corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this next hill a
+Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire only, as the guns and
+men were almost entirely covered. This battery was perhaps four hundred
+yards from us, and almost directly in front of the left wing of the
+First. The corn on our slope and in the hollow was full of Federals
+running in disorder. We loaded and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the
+naked slope opposite was dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired,
+and loaded and fired.
+
+In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet
+glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades of
+corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was afraid
+to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had not thought
+too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the butt on the ground,
+and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could be seen but the bayonet.
+I fired at the ground below the bayonet. The bayonet fell.
+
+An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a gallant
+officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to stop. He
+threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run on as soon as
+his back was turned. They were right to run at this moment, and he was
+wrong in trying to form on the naked slope. Beyond the hilltop was the
+place to rally, and the men knew it, and the gallant officer did not. He
+rode from group to group of fleeing men as they streamed up the hill. He
+was a most conspicuous target. Many shots were fired at him, but he
+continued to ride and to storm at the men and to wave his sword.
+Suddenly his head went down, his body doubled up, and he lay stretched
+on the ground. The riderless horse galloped off a few yards, then
+returned to his master, bent his head to the prostrate man, and fell
+almost upon him.
+
+The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On our left
+they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the sound of
+heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to develop from our
+left until they were uncovered in our front. They advanced, right and
+left; just upon our own position the pressure was not yet great, but we
+felt that the Twelfth regiment, which joined us on our left, must soon
+yield to greatly superior numbers, and would carry our flank with it
+when it went. The fight now raged hotter than before. I saw Captain
+Parker, of Company K, near to us. His face was a mass of blood--his jaw
+broken. The regiment was so small that, although Company H was on its
+left, I saw Sam Wigg, a corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his
+face. Then the Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the
+pressure upon us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and,
+while driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked.
+Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in retiring, it
+caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back. Now the enemy
+moved on the First from the front and the regiment retired hastily
+through the corn, and formed easily again at the stone fence from which
+it had advanced at the beginning of the contest. The battle was over.
+The enemy came no farther, and the fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.
+
+All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in position. A
+few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we were in hourly
+expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the Federals did not
+advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we were once more
+in Virginia.
+
+While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the battle of
+Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been fortunate, it was
+clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely escaped a great disaster. I
+have always thought that McClellan had it in his power on the 18th of
+September to bring the war to an end. Lee had fought the battle with a
+force not exceeding forty thousand men, and had lost nearly a third.
+McClellan, on the 18th, was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he
+waited a full day, and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross,
+almost leisurely, the difficult river in their rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of
+Shepherdstown.
+
+On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll called us
+once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the Potomac.
+Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be seen here and
+there. Men said that in the night McClellan had thrown a force to the
+south side of the river, and had surprised and taken some of our
+artillery. As we drew near the river, we could see the smoke of cannon
+in action spouting from the farther side, and from our side came the
+crackling of musketry fire.
+
+The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two lines of
+three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first line. Orr's
+Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and advanced to the
+river bank. The division moved behind the skirmishers. The ground was
+open. We marched down a slope covered with corn in part, and reached a
+bare and undulating field that stretched to the trees bordering the
+river. As soon as the division had passed the corn, the Federal
+batteries north of the Potomac began to work upon our ranks. The first
+shots flew a little above us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping
+well the alignment. The next shots struck the ground in front of us and
+exploded--with what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our
+range and made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards,
+was a depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells
+burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched on
+at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie down. The
+sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the hollow; they hugged
+the earth thick. Shells would burst at the crown of the low hill ten
+steps in front and throw iron everywhere. The aim of the Federal gunners
+was horribly true.
+
+We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water. Behind us
+came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells bursting in the
+ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were coming in their
+turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far above us to strike
+this new and exposed line. Behind us came the brigade; right against
+Company H came the centre of a regiment. The red flag was marching
+straight. The regiment reached our hollow; there was no room; it flanked
+to the left by fours; a shell struck the colour-group; the flag leaped
+in the air and fell amongst four dead men. A little pause, and the flag
+was again alive, and the regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.
+
+For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The fight had
+long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal batteries. To
+rise and march out would be to lose many men uselessly.
+
+A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt my hat
+fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a great pain
+seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was hit, but how
+badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such agony that I feared to
+look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I was the tallest man in Company
+H, and the Captain was lying very near to me. I said to him that I was
+done for. "What!" said he, "again? You must break that habit, Jones." I
+wanted to be taken out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and
+the heat and the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look.
+Perhaps I lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last
+I looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great contusion,
+and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the regiment, for
+the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not lessened their fire,
+and the sun was hot, and the men were suffering.
+
+As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched back to
+bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food and, at
+length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a fearful day.
+
+In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the
+Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded in
+getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who attempted the
+crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but with what truth I
+do not know--that blue corpses floated past Washington.
+
+After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps near
+Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where water was
+plentiful.
+
+From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven days--the
+Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns: first, that of
+the week in front of Richmond; second, that of Manassas; third, that of
+Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The Confederates had been clearly
+victorious in the first two, and had succeeded in the last in
+withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's Ferry, and with the honours of a
+drawn battle against McClellan's mighty army.
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+FOREBODINGS
+
+     "_King John_. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
+     _King Philip_. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near Bunker
+Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we learned of
+Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies of it were seen
+in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device of the enemy. Most of
+the officers and men of Company H were not greatly impressed by this
+action on the part of the Northern President. I have reason to know,
+however, that Captain Haskell regarded the proclamation a serious
+matter. One day I had heard two men of our company--Davis and
+Stokes--talking.
+
+"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.
+
+"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.
+
+"Yes; haven't you?"
+
+"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."
+
+"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"
+
+"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for Limus
+and Peagler."
+
+Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was one of
+Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but he could
+not write.
+
+The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain Haskell, and
+unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had undergone a
+modification that was very welcome to me; his previous reserve,
+indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a friendly interest,
+yet he was always courteous.
+
+"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course you do not
+wish me to speak to the men about you."
+
+"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters worse."
+
+"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"
+
+"Not a word, sir."
+
+"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased to
+exist."
+
+"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the Fourth South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think nothing
+further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such a man as
+Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that regiment. We shall
+know in a few days."
+
+"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.
+
+"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do. McClellan is
+giving us another display of caution, sir."
+
+"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month," said I.
+
+"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."
+
+"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.
+
+"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be said for
+McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has considerable nerve, as
+is shown by his resistance to popular clamour, and even to the urgency
+of the Washington authorities. The last papers that we have got hold of
+show that Lincoln is displeased with his general's inactivity. By the
+way, the war now assumes a new aspect."
+
+"In what respect, Captain?"
+
+"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the North to
+compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir. He burns
+his bridges."
+
+"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth greater
+effort?"
+
+"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel more
+strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men, such as are
+in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe, after a while, that
+the South is at war principally to maintain slavery, and in slavery they
+feel no interest at stake. In such conditions the South can do no more
+than she is now doing. She may continue to hold her present strength for
+a year or two more, but to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our
+ability. The proclamation will effectually prevent any European power
+from recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to
+endure a long war."
+
+"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue a war of
+invasion?"
+
+"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than defence.
+But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a defensive battle.
+Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are just the reverse. The
+way to win this war, allow me to say, is to fight behind trees and rocks
+and hedges and earthworks: never to risk a man in the open except where
+absolutely necessary, and when absolute victory is sure. To husband her
+resources in men and means is the South's first duty, sir. I hope
+General Lee will never fight another offensive battle."
+
+"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank any line
+of intrenchments that we might make?"
+
+"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which skilful
+generalship would know how to seize. If no such opportunities came, I
+would have the army to fall back and dig again."
+
+"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to the last
+ditch," said I.
+
+"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they need. Of
+course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical limit. It might
+be said that we could not fall back and leave our territory, which
+supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy. But to counteract this
+theory we have others. Disease would tell on the enemy more than on
+ourselves. Our interior lines would be shortened, and we could reënforce
+easily. The enemy, in living on our country, would be exposed to our
+enterprises. His lines of communication would always be in danger. And
+he would attack. The public opinion of the North would compel attack,
+and we should defeat attacks and lose but few men."
+
+Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change in the
+conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's Emancipation
+Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an end to hope of aid
+or intervention from Europe. His hope in the success of the South was
+high, however. The North might be strong, but the South had the
+righteous cause. He was saddened by the thought that the war would be a
+long one, and that many men must perish.
+
+I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare time,
+from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led Captain
+Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than he thought.
+
+He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for a long
+war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it mattered
+little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to expect any
+discovery of my former home and friends, and the army seemed a refuge.
+What would become of me if the war should end suddenly? I did not feel
+prepared for any work; I know no business or trade. Even if I had one,
+it would be tame after Lee's campaigns.
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS
+
+     "What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,
+     The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?
+     The varying fortune of each separate field,
+     The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"
+                                               --BYRON.
+
+Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now occupied a
+line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at Bunker Hill. We
+heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan; speculation was rife as to
+the character of the new commander. It was easy to believe that the
+Federal army would soon give us work to do; its change of leaders
+clearly showed aggressive purpose, McClellan being distinguished more
+for caution than for disposition to attack.
+
+On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley. The march
+lasted many days. We passed through Winchester, Strasburg, Woodstock,
+and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap, and marched to Madison
+Court-House. From Madison we marched to Orange, and finally to
+Fredericksburg, where the army was again united by our arrival on
+December 3d. The march had been painful. For part of the time I had been
+barefoot. Many of the men were yet without shoes.
+
+The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the morning
+of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the lines, I awoke
+with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling generally. The
+surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and ordered me to the camp
+hospital, which consisted of two or three Sibley tents in the woods. I
+was laid on a bed of straw and covered with blankets.
+
+I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How far off
+the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of Company H
+came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the 11th two of
+them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to march; the enemy was
+crossing the river and was expected to attack. These men told me
+afterward that when they said good-by they felt they were saying the
+long farewell; I was not expected to recover.
+
+On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of Fredericksburg
+roaring at the front, some two or three miles away, I was too ill to
+feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the morning, I was lifted
+into an open wagon and covered with a single blanket. In this condition
+I was jolted to a place called Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted
+out of the wagon and laid upon the ground. There were others near me,
+all lying on the ground. In many places the ground was white with snow;
+the wind cut like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock
+some men put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat
+and the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started. At
+twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men put me
+into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital, several miles
+out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the morning of the
+15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has always been a wonder,
+
+I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the middle of the
+ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide, was a big stove,
+red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of people--women-nurses and
+stewards, and perhaps some convalescing patients--singing religious
+songs. There was a great open space between the red-hot stove and the
+people around it. I wanted to lie in that open space.
+
+I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor until I
+was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped. "You'll burn to
+death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.
+
+For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an incident
+occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man in the
+company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general affairs. The
+army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known that fact on the
+night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General Gregg had been killed. The
+papers that I saw gave me some of the details of the battle, but told me
+nothing of the position of the army, except that it was yet near
+Fredericksburg. I did not know where Company H was, and I learned
+afterward that nobody in Company H knew what had become of me.
+
+The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery was slow
+and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to return, I
+wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end of February I
+had demanded my papers and had started for the army yet near
+Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a station called
+Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine or ten miles. I found
+Company H below Fredericksburg and back from the river. Captain Haskell
+was not with the company. He had been ordered on some special duty to
+South Carolina, and returned to us a week later than my arrival. Many of
+the men--though all of twenty-six men could hardly be said to be
+many--had thought that I was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since
+the battle of Fredericksburg.
+
+When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness for so
+serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee had fought
+at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind breastworks--and had
+lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole army had been caused by a
+mistake of our own officers, who refused to allow their men to fire upon
+a line of Yankees until almost too late, believing them to be
+Confederates. It was through this error that General Gregg, for whom the
+camp of the army was named, had lost his life.
+
+Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed variously--some
+with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards rudely riven from the
+forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and picket duty occasionally.
+
+The remainder of the winter passed without events of great importance.
+Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from the Fourth South
+Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it had been reorganized as
+a battalion, fitted with my description or with either of my names. I
+spent much time in reading the books which passed from man to man in
+the company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat more
+cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to show signs
+of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April the weather
+became mild. To say that I was content would be to say what is untrue,
+but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I knew that I had a
+friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired without reservation, and
+whose favours were extended to me freely--I mean to say personal, not
+official, favours. The more I learned of this high-minded man, the more
+did the whole world seem to me brighter and less deserving of disregard.
+He was a patriot. An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for
+a principle of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal
+interest to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle
+he was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me, was
+considered by him as a high, religious service, which he performed
+ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of his demeanour
+when leading his men in fight. His words were few at such times; he was
+the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of rant in action. Others
+would shout and scream and shriek their orders redundant and
+unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle English than all their
+distended throats. He was merciful and he was wise.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days' cooked
+rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a
+moment's notice.
+
+The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell into ranks.
+We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and formed in line of
+battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The enemy was in our front,
+on our side of the Rappahannock, and we learned that he had crossed in
+strong force up the river also. We faced the Yankees here for two days,
+but did not fire a shot.
+
+Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up the
+river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our front. The
+sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they increased in
+volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of the fight began to
+die away. The enemy were retiring before our advanced troops. Night came
+on, and we lay on our arms, expecting the day to bring battle.
+
+The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of Hooker's
+army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of artillery from
+which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the movement was retreat,
+and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so; but suddenly our march broke
+off toward the west, and the men could not conceal their joy over what
+they were now beginning to understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson
+was seen riding past the marching lines to the head of his column, or
+halted with his staff to see his troops hastening on.
+
+Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our backs
+were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of battle in
+our front. We moved along the road at supporting distance.
+
+Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the roar of
+the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous musketry. There
+was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us had swept on. We
+followed, still in column of fours upon the road, which was almost
+blocked by a battery of artillery.
+
+Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right was
+open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a breastwork from
+which the enemy had just been driven, leaving wounded and dead, their
+muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils yet upon the fires, blankets,
+knapsacks--everything.
+
+We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having become
+intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's division now
+formed the first line of battle.
+
+It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the distance
+told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again went forward.
+Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were halted in the
+thick woods.
+
+The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose a moon,
+the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full and in a
+cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two armies yet
+lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here and there a gun
+broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was not peace; now and then
+a film of cannon smoke drifted across the moon, which seemed to become
+piteous then. There was silence in the ranks.
+
+The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about nine
+o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about where
+Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful group of
+men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one whom we knew to
+be some high officer. Jackson had been shot dangerously by one of Lane's
+regiments--the Eighteenth North Carolina.
+
+General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent, and the
+line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once there came the
+noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery, and many batteries,
+and fields and woods were alive with shells and canister. More than
+forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our front. We lay and endured
+the fire. General Hill was wounded, and at midnight General Stuart of
+the cavalry took command of the corps. At last the cannon hushed. The
+terrible night passed away without sleep.
+
+At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under command of
+General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the enemy. Our brigade
+succeeded in getting into the works; but on our right the enemy's line
+still held, and as it curved far to the west it had us in flank and
+rear. A new attack at this moment by the troops on our right would have
+carried the line; the attack was not made. We were compelled to abandon
+the breastworks and run for the woods, where we formed again at once.
+
+And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an enfilade
+fire.
+
+At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole line;
+the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was won.
+
+Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant officer,
+had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our rear.
+
+We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed, and were
+ready to go forward and push the Federals to the Rappahannock, but no
+orders came. General Lee had just received intelligence of the second
+battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy, under Sedgwick, had taken the
+heights above the town, and were now advancing against our right flank.
+Our division, and perhaps others, held the field of Chancellorsville,
+while troops were hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the
+4th the Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the
+north bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of
+Hooker's army had recrossed the river.
+
+Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because of the
+enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his divisions, was not
+at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing the Federals under
+Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and thirty thousand, while
+Lee had less than sixty thousand men.
+
+We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days later we
+learned that the most illustrious man in the South was dead. No longer
+should we follow Stonewall Jackson.
+
+The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's the
+first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our General Gregg
+had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now McGowan's brigade.
+Our General Jackson had fallen at Chancellorsville, and we were now in
+the corps of A.P. Hill, whose promotion placed four brigades of our
+division under General Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks
+before had been addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division,
+Jackson's corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's
+brigade, Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk
+of letters?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General Pender, a
+battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of his division.
+Two or three men were taken from each, company--from the large companies
+three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had five regiments of ten
+companies each, so that McGowan's battalion of sharp-shooters was to be
+composed of about a hundred and twenty men. General McGowan chose
+Captain Haskell as the commander of the battalion. When I heard of this
+appointment, I went to the Captain and begged to go with him. He said,
+"I had already chosen you, Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the
+battalion was drawn up for the first time, orders were read showing the
+organization of the command. There were to be three companies, each
+under a lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the
+First. Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant
+of Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second
+sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then it
+came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.
+
+After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my approach.
+"You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't know the other
+men, and I do know you."
+
+I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me, and
+started to go away.
+
+"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of the
+company?"
+
+"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others and say
+they are good men."
+
+"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but you
+know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do almost all the
+skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four or five men in the
+battalion out of those companies. It is one thing, to be a good soldier
+in the line and another thing to be a good skirmisher."
+
+"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that anybody would
+prefer being in the battalion."
+
+"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence of mind
+to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like the
+battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the future. The men
+get their rations and their pay through their original companies, but
+are no longer attached to them otherwise. On the march and in battle
+they will serve as a distinct command, and will be exposed to many
+dangers that the line of battle will escape, though the danger, on the
+whole, will be lessened, I dare say, especially for alert men who know
+how to seize every advantage. But the most of the men have not been
+trained for such service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We
+must begin at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."
+
+"I will do my best, Captain," said I.
+
+"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some writing
+for me."
+
+That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was
+prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We
+drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill as
+skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of it.
+
+Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at Fredericksburg.
+Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the Shenandoah Valley, and
+onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery Hill. The Federals again
+crossed the Rappahannock, but in small bodies. Their army was on the
+Falmouth Hills beyond the river.
+
+On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our
+places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On either
+side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown up, and
+with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a fine shaded
+avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a Federal
+skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.
+
+Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in the low
+ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods, and broom-sedge
+covered the unwooded space between the opposing lines; rarely could a
+man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch and fired above the bank,
+which formed a natural breastwork. At my place, on the left of Company
+A, a large tree was growing upon the bank. I was standing behind this
+tree; a bullet struck it. The firing was very slow--men trying to pick a
+target. When the bullet struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise
+from behind a bush. I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed
+by me, and I saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the
+tree was struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good
+protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it gave
+me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless; at any
+rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain on my arm.
+I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between my arm and
+body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a scratch; the ball
+had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch below the armpit and had
+drawn some blood.
+
+We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had no
+losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the river. While
+going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of talk concerning
+their first day's experience in the battalion of sharp-shooters. They
+were to undergo other experiences--experiences which would cause them to
+hold their tongues.
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+GLOOM
+
+     "He was a man, take him all in all,
+     I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We broke camp
+on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper; Chester Gap,
+Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we forded the Potomac
+for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown at the ford by which we
+had advanced nine months before in our hurried march from Harper's Ferry
+to Sharpsburg. We passed once more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a
+village called Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our
+division rested for three days.
+
+On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small
+farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at cheap
+prices. Our Confederate money was received with less unwillingness than
+we might have expected. We got onions, cheese, and bread--rye-bread.
+Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted milk. Coming back toward
+camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine cows--a boy driving them home
+from pasture. We halted. Rhodes ordered the boy to milk the cows; the
+boy replied that he could not milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held
+the sergeant's gun, and he soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was
+talking with the boy.
+
+"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.
+
+"About two months ago," said he.
+
+"Is he the only brother you have?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How does he like the army?"
+
+"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but he
+couldn't."
+
+"And he doesn't like it now?"
+
+"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had to."
+
+"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the Yankee
+army?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."
+
+I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes had
+intended to pay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July 1st
+found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was great,
+although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and unobstructed, as
+though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do. Heth's division led the
+corps. We descended from a range of high hills, having in our front an
+extensive region dotted over with farmhouses and with fertile fields
+interspersed with groves. The march continued; steadily eastward went
+the corps.
+
+At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in front. We
+were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right, deployed, and the
+column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving as skirmishers
+parallel with the brigade.
+
+The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the right and
+went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a large low plain
+to the south. We halted in position, occupying a most formidable
+defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the division, and perhaps
+other divisions, went by into battle, and left us on the hill,
+protecting their flank and rear.
+
+Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in many
+small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within range of our
+rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our rear and left. We
+could see the smoke of burning houses and see shells burst in the air,
+and could hear the shouts of our men as they advanced from one position
+to another, driving the enemy.
+
+A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me a folded
+paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this note. I fear
+the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking for orders. Be
+back as quickly as you can."
+
+My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet burning.
+Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and Confederates. In one
+place behind a stone fence there were many blue corpses. The ambulances
+and infirmary men were busy. In a road I saw side by side a Confederate
+and a Federal. The Confederate was on his back; his jacket was open; his
+shirt showed a great red splotch right on his breast. Death must have
+been instantaneous.
+
+At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much farther
+forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender was yet on
+his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said, without looking
+at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."
+
+I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw Lieutenant
+Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer of the
+regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were wounded.
+The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy behind a stone
+fence and routed them, and had pursued them through the streets of the
+town and taken many prisoners. Butler and Williams had gone into a house
+foraging, and in the cellar had taken a whole company commanded by a
+lieutenant. Other tales there were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone
+entirely through the town, followed by straggling men, and had reached
+the top of Cemetery Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter
+disorganization, and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him
+to come on; but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped.
+The flag of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that
+of any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General Reynolds,
+had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had in the early
+hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the brigade had
+been captured.
+
+All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to give. I
+hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost time. It was not
+yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the second time over the bloody
+field. I passed again between the Confederate and the Federal whom I had
+seen lying side by side. Our man was sitting in the road, and
+eating hardtack.
+
+When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I told
+about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating hardtack,
+Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that Yankee's haversack!"
+
+For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At ten
+o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He made me
+sit by him.
+
+"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the other
+companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."
+
+"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.
+
+"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held in
+reserve."
+
+"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"
+
+"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say that it
+was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must be observed.
+Of course, if your company happened to be of average number and either
+of the others was very small, I should take Company A instead. But it
+does not so happen; so the work you have done to-day gives Company A a
+rest--if rest it can be called."
+
+"But why not take the whole battalion?"
+
+"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day have
+been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee attacks
+again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one defensive battle."
+
+"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville was a
+great victory--and to-day's battle also."
+
+"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the enemy
+is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against
+Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have stopped on
+Sunday morning after taking the second line of intrenchments. General
+Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the wrong time I dare say.
+Should he not have pressed Hooker into the river before giving attention
+to Sedgwick[8]?"
+
+[8] Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was impregnable
+to any attack the Confederates were then able to make. Hooker himself,
+as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to attack. Lee's march
+against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the right movement. See the
+Comte de Paris, _in loc_. [ED.]
+
+"Then you believe in attacking," said I.
+
+"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has been that
+we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we refuse to trouble
+them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you say, Chancellorsville
+was a great victory; anything that would have sent Hooker's army back
+over the river, even without a battle, would have been success. But
+speaking from a military view, I dare say it was a false movement to
+divide our forces as we did there. We succeeded because our opponents
+allowed us to succeed. It was in Hooker's power on Saturday to crush
+either Jackson or McLaws. Yet, as you suggest, General Lee was compelled
+to take great risks; no matter what he should do, his position seemed
+well-nigh desperate, and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on
+Sunday morning, before the action began, if General Lee had only known
+the exact condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would
+in the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have
+assaulted Hooker's works."
+
+"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.
+
+"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march against
+Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated. We had
+enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first Manassas, when
+Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won the battle by the
+steady conduct of a few regiments who held the enemy until Johnston's
+men came up. Of course I am not making any comparison between Generals
+Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and Chancellorsville are past, and
+observe, sir, what a loss we have had to-day. I dare say the enemy's
+loss is heavier, but he can stand losses here, and we cannot; another
+day or two like to-day, and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the
+enemy for a mile or so until it occupies a stronger position than
+before, is not--you will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which,
+the Confederacy began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He
+will attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot
+destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get any
+reënforcement. Indeed, Jones, I do not see how we can be reënforced at
+all--so far from our base, and the enemy so powerful to prevent it."
+
+"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"
+
+"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger every day,
+while we should become weaker. The enemy would not attack until we
+should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass our retreat and
+endeavour to bring us to battle."
+
+"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"
+
+"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we shall be
+losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not absurd for a
+small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation in the face of more
+powerful armies? If we had arms which the Federals could not match, we
+should find it easy to conquer a peace on this field. But their
+equipment is superior to ours. The campaign is wrong. If inactivity
+could not have been tolerated, we should have reënforced General Bragg
+and regained our own country instead of running our heads against this
+wall up here. But, do you not agree with, me that inactivity would have
+been best? Hooker's army would not have stirred this summer until too
+late for any important campaign. The year would have closed with
+Virginia secure and with great recuperation to all our eastern states.
+Our army would have been swelled by the return of our wounded and sick,
+without any losses to offset our increase. As it is, our losses are
+going to be difficult if not impossible to make up. I fear that Lee's
+army will never be as strong hereafter as it is to-night."
+
+"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"
+
+"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that. Look at the
+victories of this war. They have been claimed by both aides--many of
+them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort Donelson, where has
+there been a great victory?"
+
+"The Chickahominy," said I.
+
+"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the Federals,
+and McClellan escaped us."
+
+"Second Manassas."
+
+"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped on the
+second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now on
+that hill."
+
+"Fredericksburg."
+
+"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been allowed to
+get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the effect that Jackson
+was strongly in favour of a night attack upon the Federals huddled up
+on our side of the river?"
+
+"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital. You
+know I was not in the battle."
+
+"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished to throw
+his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the men were to
+wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that they might
+recognize each other."
+
+"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"
+
+"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals into the
+river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."
+
+"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's army?"
+
+"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside to get
+away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too merciful, and
+that he is restrained because we are killing our own people. If
+Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee might have
+listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have been balanced
+in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been killing Frenchmen, I
+dare say he would have had more fight in him on the 18th of September.
+After all that we read in the newspapers, Jones, about the vandalism
+practised in this war, yet this war is, I dare say, the least inhumane
+that ever was waged. I don't think our men hate the men on the
+other side."
+
+"I don't," said I.
+
+"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too unfortunate as to
+opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not destroyed; they get
+away; when we gain a field, it is only the moral effect that remains
+with us. War is different from the old wars. The only thorough defeats
+are surrenders. It would take days for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's
+at long range, even if Meade should stand and do nothing. We may defeat
+Meade,--I don't see why we should not,--but in less than a week we
+should be compelled to fight him again, and we should be weaker and he
+would be stronger than before."
+
+"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed whole
+armies."
+
+"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In Caesar's wars,
+for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical strength and endurance
+were the qualities that prevailed. The men became exhausted backing away
+or slinging away at each other. In such a condition a regiment of
+cavalry is turned loose on a broad plain against a division unable to
+flee, and one horseman puts a company to death; all he has to do is to
+cut and thrust."
+
+"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we could
+get reënforcements," I said.
+
+"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get twenty."
+
+"We could retire after victory," I said.
+
+"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know that he
+is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know that he is
+quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to me that his
+reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say his wonderful
+ability as an engineer accounts for it."
+
+"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France recognize
+us?"
+
+"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that? Ever
+since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of European
+recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon gone."
+
+"What was it, Captain?"
+
+"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by
+emancipating the slaves gradually."
+
+"Was that seriously thought of?"
+
+"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the main. We do
+not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked out that there
+was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether any vote was ever had
+I do not know; I dare say those in favour of the measure found they were
+not strong enough, and thought best not to press it."
+
+"What effect would such a course have had?"
+
+"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have
+recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a measure.
+In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would have been laid
+at rest. The North would have been eager to conciliate the South, and it
+would have become possible to reconstruct the Union with clear
+definitions of the sovereignty of the States."
+
+"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a gradual
+emancipation."
+
+"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in fact, there
+is great justification for it. It is too universal, however. It does not
+give enough opportunity for a slave to develop, and to make a future for
+himself. Still, we have some grand men among the slaves. Many of them
+would suffer death for the interest of their masters' families. Then,
+too, we have in the South a type unknown in the rest of the world since
+feudalism: we have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana,
+reproductions of the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The
+general condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an
+inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small share
+in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a slave at
+home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented. Witness his
+docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children while his masters
+are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds. Such conduct deserves
+recognition. I would say that a system of rewards should be planned by
+which a worthy negro, ambitious to become free, could by meritorious
+conduct achieve his freedom. But this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It
+is good for nobody. A race of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of
+infants with the physical force of men. What would become of them?
+Suppose the North should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies
+disbanded, and the States back in the Union or held as territories. Has
+anybody the least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the
+new dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the
+beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and
+would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro
+offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine. The
+result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would be far
+worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies should
+indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that our own
+people should be driven out and our lands given to the slaves--what
+would become of them? We know their character. They look not one day
+ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence, anarchy. And the worst
+men of the race would hold the rest in terror. Immorality would be at a
+premium, sir. The race would lose what it had gained. But, on the other
+hand, put into practice a plan for gradual freedom based on good
+conduct; you would see whites and blacks living in peace. The negro
+would begin to improve, and the white people would help him. It would
+not be long before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom,
+not race freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be
+great striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected
+thereby from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so
+done we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden
+emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout her
+dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she pays the
+owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a mistake for the
+Southern colonies, for South Carolina especially."
+
+"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."
+
+"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts had. Our
+best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied to the best of
+the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our trade with the
+mother country was profitable, and our products were favoured by
+bounties. We had no connection, with the French and Indian wars which
+had given rise to so much trouble between Great Britain and New England.
+But our people thought it would be base to desert the cause of
+Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the main reason that caused
+South Carolina to throw in her lot with that of our Northern colonies.
+See what we get for it. We renounce our profitable commerce with
+England, and we help our sister colonies; just so soon as their
+profitable commerce with us is threatened by our withdrawal, they
+maintain it by putting us to death. It is their nature, sir. They live
+by trade. If they continue to increase in power, they will hold the West
+in commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever
+reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of trade."
+
+"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"
+
+"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New England
+suffered very little. New York suffered; so did Pennsylvania and New
+Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South Carolina, which was in
+reality no more than a conquered province for years, and yet held
+faithful to the cause of the colonies. And it was the eventual success
+of the Southern arms that caused the surrender of Cornwallis. The North
+is very ungrateful to us."
+
+"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should have
+been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.
+
+"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would have been
+freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them. England and
+America could have controlled the world in peace; but here we are,
+diligently engaged in killing one another."
+
+"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever before."
+
+"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I have
+hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."
+
+"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.
+
+"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to
+retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from the
+situation,--- but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be
+disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."
+
+"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"
+
+"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and have
+losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and those of us
+who are able to march shall see Virginia again."
+
+"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded here?"
+
+"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this war is
+truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to the common
+soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in slaves, give their
+lives for independence--- the independence of their States. Yet it is
+useless to grieve in anticipation."
+
+"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said I; "at
+least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in battle to
+death by disease."
+
+"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.
+
+     "'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,
+       The appointed and the unappointed day;
+       On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,
+       Nor thee, on the second, the Universe slay.'"
+
+"Who is that, Captain?"
+
+"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."
+
+"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"
+
+"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."
+
+"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"
+
+"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"
+
+"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems not
+unfamiliar. Is he living?"
+
+"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of your old
+personal friends?"
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back
+somewhere."
+
+"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name that
+strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."
+
+"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."
+
+"In what sense, Captain?"
+
+"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East is
+fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is inconsistent."
+
+"But you are not a fatalist."
+
+"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the ends that
+we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is blocked out in
+the large for us by powers over which we can have no control, but that
+within certain limits we do the shaping of our own lives."
+
+"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will be
+done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world does
+one battle, more or fewer, have?"
+
+"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the result is
+nothing; but every event is important to some life."
+
+"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over yonder, and
+that we could have occupied it but that our men were recalled."
+
+"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy would only
+have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging at
+this moment."
+
+Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to do your
+full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more we have to do,
+the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must collect all our
+energies, and each man must do the work of two. Impress the men strongly
+with the necessity for courage and endurance."
+
+The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain good night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the brigade, which
+was in line a little to the south of the Seminary. The sun shone hot.
+The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery roared at our left and far
+to our right. At times shells came over us. A caisson near by exploded.
+In the afternoon a great battle was raging some two miles to our right.
+Longstreet's corps had gone in.
+
+At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On the
+litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men gathered around.
+Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of them approached the
+litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men came slowly back--one at a
+time--grim.
+
+I asked who it was that had been killed.
+
+"Captain Haskell," they said.
+
+My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell? Our
+Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I now knew
+that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable. He had passed
+through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to so many deaths that
+had refused to demand him, had so freely offered his life, had been so
+calm and yet so valiant in battle, had been so worshipped by all the
+left wing of the regiment and by the battalion, had been so wise in
+council and so forceful in the field, had, in fine, been one of those we
+instinctively feel are heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could
+not be! There must be some mistake!
+
+But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw Sergeant
+Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke down utterly.
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+NIGHT
+
+     "From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
+      The hum of either army stilly sounds,
+      That the fixed sentinels almost receive
+      The secret whispers of each other's watch."
+                                               --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was ordered
+forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down the hill in
+front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with cannon and
+intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was alive with
+skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we advanced. Down our hill
+and into the hollow; there the fire increased and we lay flat on the
+ground. Our skirmish-line was some two or three hundred yards in front
+of us, in the wheat on the slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.
+
+Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the wheat; what
+for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know[9]. It was Ramseur's brigade
+of Rodes's division.
+
+[9] Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at
+the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill. [ED.]
+
+Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the left
+guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought it likely
+that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into its ranks.
+
+Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the wheat. We
+could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing and shouting;
+they charged the Federal army. What was expected of them? It seemed
+absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many rifles could be
+seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down the hill,
+helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us, and went back
+toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.
+
+It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets of the
+next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket in these
+parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had remained and
+must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.
+
+Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a circuit
+to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned and passed
+word down the line to the lieutenant in command of Company A that I
+wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I explained the trouble. The
+lieutenant did not know what to do. This gentleman was a valuable
+officer in the line, but was out of place in the battalion. He asked me
+what ought to be done. I replied that we must not fail to connect, else
+there would be a gap in the line, and how wide a gap nobody could tell.
+If I had known then what I know now, I should have told him to report
+the condition to Colonel Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but
+I did otherwise; I told him that if he would remain on the left, I would
+hunt for the picket-line. He consented.
+
+I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and searched a
+long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of Company A and
+proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for our pickets. The
+lieutenant approved.
+
+The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front. I moved
+slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon, over which
+bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be hidden I went
+forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and looked. Here and there
+in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns, and many signs of battle.
+The wheat had been trodden down.
+
+Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of the
+battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in most places
+untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see our own men. I
+went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right I saw a fence, or
+rather a line of bushes and briers which had grown up where a fence had
+been in years past. This fence-row stretched straight up the hill toward
+the cemetery. I went to it. It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the
+shelter of this friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was
+now in front of Company A's right.
+
+The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards in
+advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and crawled along
+the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant pausing and looking. I
+reached a denser and taller clump of bushes, and raised myself to my
+full height. In front were black spots in the wheat--five paces apart---
+a picket-line--whose?
+
+The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat with
+the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back, lest the
+metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in front of me, and
+on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to stretch across the
+front of the whole battalion. If that was our picket, why should there
+be another in rear of it? They must be Yankees.
+
+I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The line was
+perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men nearer to
+me,--officers, or men going and returning in its rear,--but the line
+seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not seem tall enough for
+standing men. No doubt they were sitting in the wheat with their guns in
+their laps. I heard no word--not a sound except the noises coming from
+the crest of the hill beyond them, where was the Federal line of battle.
+I looked back. Seminary Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun,
+picked it up, rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no
+longer see the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my
+right in order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had
+not budged.
+
+I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt almost
+sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We ought to have
+sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why we did not, I do not
+know, unless it was that we felt it our duty to solve the difficulty
+ourselves. The left of the battalion was unprotected; this would not do.
+Something must be done.
+
+I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals to ten
+paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The left platoon
+extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from centre to left.
+This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap. Still no pickets
+could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left and returned.
+
+Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the left
+until something was found. He would have filled the interval, even had
+it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps apart, at
+least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General Pender.
+Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to the
+right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent word to
+him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was growing. How wide
+was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other side of this gap
+search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a brigade or more might
+creep through the gap; still the lieutenant did not propose anything.
+
+At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked like a
+Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that I thought I
+could get nearer to it than I had been before, and speak to the men
+without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun to fear sarcasm. What
+if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line of gray pickets in our
+front? Should I ever hear the last of it?
+
+Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of anything. He
+was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had proposed an advance
+of Company A up the hill, he would have approved, and would have led
+the advance.
+
+The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the place where
+I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther. Again the thought
+came that there would have been some communicating between that line and
+ours if that were Confederate. If they were our men, we had been in
+their rear for three hours. Impossible to suppose that nobody in that
+time should have come back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line,
+and I was in its front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they
+had a man or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could
+be no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my
+progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not less
+black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre
+night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were, they
+felt strongly the presence of the enemy.
+
+Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a
+gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along which I
+was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed. There had once
+been a gate hanging to that post and closing against another post now
+concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would crawl to that post out
+there, and speak to the men in front. They would suppose that I was in
+the fence-row, and, if they fired, would shoot into the bushes, while I
+should be safe behind the post--such was my thought.
+
+I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak, I
+thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The black
+spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front. The line
+stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the left--through
+the fence-row.
+
+It was not necessary to speak very loud.
+
+I asked, "Whose picket is that?"
+
+My voice sounded strangely tremulous.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would be no
+sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said, "Come up and
+see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see that the black
+spots had become large objects; the moon was shining.
+
+I must ask again.
+
+I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead that day.
+
+I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's brigade?"
+
+No answer.
+
+Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina brigade?"
+
+Not a word.
+
+It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men? Certainly
+Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two or three men
+might rush forward and seize me before I could get to my feet. Yet,
+would not a line of our men out here be silent? They would be very near
+the enemy and would be very silent. But they would send a man back to
+make me stop talking. They were Yankees; but why did they not say
+something? or do something? Perhaps they were in doubt about me. I was
+so near their lines they could hardly believe me a Confederate. I half
+decided to slip away at once.
+
+But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy the
+lieutenant and myself also.
+
+Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that is?"
+
+A voice replied, "Our brigade!"
+
+This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had heard it
+frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for troops to pass,
+you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and some-would-be wag would
+say, "Our regiment."
+
+I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly. Before
+I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees also had
+this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees selected one man
+to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to preserve silence, and
+was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A man perhaps who knew
+something of the sayings in the Southern army?
+
+Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud, "What army
+do you belong to?"
+
+Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"
+
+I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word "you."
+
+Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out in front
+and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did they not bid me
+come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very likely they thought I
+was trying to desert, and feeling my way through fear of falling into
+the hands of the wrong people.
+
+I replied at once, "I am a rebel."
+
+What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know, unless it
+was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe, being in their
+rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at once accept the
+challenge. I wanted to end the matter.
+
+They accepted.
+
+A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen rifles
+cracked.
+
+They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but then, no
+bullet can be heard at such a nearness.
+
+I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to rise and
+run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could manage better. I
+would remain quiet until they should think I had gone. Then I would
+crawl away.
+
+Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start. Suddenly
+a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the fence-row. A Yankee
+had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary pitch, but very gruffly,
+"Who _are_ you, anyhow?"
+
+If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones. It was
+my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to come, but the
+next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how many I was, and I
+stuck fast.
+
+I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back and
+reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate front.
+
+Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking back to
+our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had been warned
+that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from firing on me. They
+had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets had whistled over them,
+and they had thought me a prisoner, so when they saw a man coming toward
+them they were itching to shoot.
+
+We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the skirmish-line at the
+left of Pender's division.
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+HELL
+
+     "Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;
+      Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,
+      Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."
+                                                        --BYRON.
+
+The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as the sun
+was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced. Down the hill
+they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a countercharge, and the
+battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were almost intermixed with them
+before they ran. And now our lieutenant of Company A showed his mettle.
+He sprang before his company, sword in his left hand and revolver in the
+other, and led the fight, rushing right up the hill, and, when near
+enough, firing every barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both
+lines settled back to their first positions.
+
+We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the rear to
+carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four men lifted the
+stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled heavily to the
+ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot, leaving but two; they
+raised their stretcher in the air and moved it about violently. The
+Yankees ceased firing.
+
+The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly work
+ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails, covered with
+wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon appeared along the
+line. The protection was slight, yet by lying flat our bodies could not
+be seen. On their side the Yankee skirmishers also had worked, and were
+now behind low heaps of rails and earth. Practice-shooting began, and
+was kept up without intermission for hour after hour.
+
+We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the men to be
+sparing with water.
+
+From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the Seminary--could
+see through the cupola from one window to the other. The Seminary was
+General Lee's headquarters.
+
+To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn. Captain
+Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn. It was five
+hundred yards from the pits of Company A.
+
+The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond the right
+of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced from the
+Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn. They began to
+enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we were engaged in front.
+
+A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down the line
+for me to take his place at the right of the company.
+
+Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in Company
+A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.
+
+We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right oblique
+five hundred yards.
+
+We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two hundred
+yards.
+
+A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see him
+loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his shoulder. I
+took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I thought of the
+Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any hatred of him? And the
+answer came: No; I am fighting for life and liberty; I hate nobody. I
+fired, and saw the man no more.
+
+Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy recovered it.
+
+Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line of
+battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our losses
+were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until past midday,
+and there was no sign of an ending.
+
+At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then the
+devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the air was
+full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal batteries
+answering doubled the din and made the valley and its slopes a hell of
+hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went far over our heads; we
+were much nearer to the Federal artillery than to our own. Some of our
+shells, perhaps from defective powder, fell amongst us; some would burst
+in mid air, and the fragments would hurtle down. The skirmishing
+ceased--in an ocean one drop more is naught.
+
+I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with his hat
+over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were unrelieved. The men
+were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained, haggard, battle-worn, and
+stern. Still shrieked the shells overhead, and yet roared the guns to
+front and rear--a pandemonium of sight and sound reserved from the
+foundation of the world for the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun
+went out in smoke. The smell of burning powder filled the land. Before
+us and behind us bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of
+this awful picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its
+foreground the peaceful city of the dead.
+
+For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth and sky;
+then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness was but brief.
+Out from our rear and right now marched the Confederate infantry on to
+destruction.
+
+We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men stand,
+regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than eighteen hours
+we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope. We knew that our
+line, marching out for attack, could not even reach the enemy. Before
+it could come within charging distance it would be beaten to pieces by
+artillery. The men looked at the advancing line and said one to another,
+"Lee has made a mistake."
+
+The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary Ridge.
+
+The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the valley and
+up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front and right,--and
+far to the right,--pumping death into its ranks.
+
+I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words concerning
+General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military man; I knew
+nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had knelled the doom
+of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone fences the flower of
+the Army of the Potomac protected by two hundred guns. It was simply
+insane. It was not war, neither was it magnificent; it was too absurd
+to be grand.
+
+Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the
+skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the spot
+where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was already in
+tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all described
+Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line came on like
+troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too gallant; but there
+was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on Seminary Ridge were looking
+at Pickett's division from its rear; the blue men were looking upon it
+from its front; from neither position could the alignment be seen; to
+them it looked straight and fine; but that line passed by me so that I
+looked along it, and I know that it was swayed and bent long before it
+fired a shot. As it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty,
+forty, even fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men
+for this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry, but
+for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and left, a
+semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed the ground
+with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an iron tempest
+such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at Gettysburg--- a
+tempest in which no army on earth could live.
+
+I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came under the
+fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged, because the gaps
+could not be filled as fast as they were made; but the fragments kept on
+up the hill, uniting as they went.
+
+And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the sound,
+that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their battle.
+Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking; the thunder
+of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and our men--those
+that are left, but not the line--still go forward.
+
+Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right swarm
+out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his front still
+stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men live to pass.
+
+Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere have long
+ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch the struggle for
+the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where a few trees stand,
+smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and fate are working as they
+never worked. Lines of infantry from either flank move toward the
+whirlpool. They close upon the smoke.
+
+Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running
+half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the
+hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become prisoners.
+
+A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their right
+and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of Confederates
+advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The battle of
+Gettysburg is over.
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+FALLING-WATERS
+
+                      "Prepare you, generals:
+     The enemy comes on in gallant show;
+     Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
+     And something to be done immediately."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division leading.
+Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The slow retreat
+continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown we formed line
+of battle.
+
+The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers advanced
+against us. We held our own, but lost some men.
+
+The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits made of
+fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and ate the grain
+uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but with little
+success. There was great suffering from hunger.
+
+For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown, skirmishing
+every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded the battalion. We
+were told that the Potomac was at a high stage, and that we must wait
+until a pontoon bridge could be laid.
+
+At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters received
+orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then to retire. The
+division was withdrawing and depended upon us to prevent the advance of
+the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet to the skin and almost
+exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and watching.
+
+At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone. We
+followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was deep; the
+army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten miles. After
+sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then, behind us. We supposed
+that the enemy's advance was firing on our stragglers as they would try
+to get away. The march was very difficult, because of the mud and mainly
+because of our exhaustion.
+
+We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile away.
+It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we could see
+a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and wagons--some filing
+slowly away to the south, others standing in well-ordered ranks. On some
+prominent hills batteries had been planted. It was a great sight. The
+sun was shining on this display. Lee's army had effected a crossing.
+
+On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At the
+river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with stacked
+arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to cross; for there
+was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was yet passing, and it
+would take hours for all to cross.
+
+We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men to
+decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped on the
+ground, to rest and sleep.
+
+The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all around
+me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired, with his gun
+at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men on horses were
+amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with pistols which they were
+firing. Our men were scattering, not in flight, but to deploy.
+
+A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He was
+standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed and fired.
+He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up and went
+headforemost to the ground.
+
+The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who had
+ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance squadron.
+More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty yards long,
+covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to allow the enemy to
+see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted troops at the head of the
+bridge. The numbers of the Federals constantly increased. They
+outflanked us on our right. They dismounted and deployed as skirmishers.
+They advanced, and the fighting began.
+
+Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines, and the
+berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired. I never saw
+so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over us and amongst
+us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw hat that I had
+swapped for with one of the men; where he had got it, I don't know. My
+hat was a target. I took it off.
+
+The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From the
+division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us. The
+regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy still
+increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we had a
+skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force ready to
+strengthen any weak part of the line.
+
+The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line was
+reëstablished. They got around our right and a few of them got into our
+rear. One of them rode up to Peagler of Company H, an unarmed infirmary
+man; he brandished his sword and ordered Peagler to surrender. Peagler
+picked up a fence-rail and struck the rider from his horse.
+
+Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house, firing
+from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their flanks and
+rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the house, and the
+company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded, who, however,
+got away.
+
+General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had already
+lasted three hours and threatened to continue.
+
+At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing numbers of
+the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again, we could see that
+the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops were on the south side
+of the river. On the bridge were only a few straggling men
+running across.
+
+And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its crest was
+occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they began busily to
+pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat in my hand.
+
+We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to throw
+shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion flanked to
+the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong across, with Yankee
+bullets splashing the water to the right and left; meanwhile our
+batteries continued to throw shells over our heads, and Federal guns,
+now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were answering with spirit.
+
+
+
+XXXV
+
+AWAKENINGS
+
+                             "'Tis far off;
+     And rather like a dream than an assurance
+     That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling Waters,
+the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We marched a
+mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At night we
+received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.
+
+On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out. Starvation
+and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered greatly, not from
+fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of ranks, went fifty yards into
+the thicket, and lay down under a tree.
+
+That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared. I shrank
+from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing it.
+
+My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard of the
+surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of demoralization had
+touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg; but now men talked
+despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed hopeless.
+
+Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had gone on.
+What interest had they in me or I in them? I had fever.
+
+The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the thicket.
+A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of fifty
+thousand; they have gone on.
+
+Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not
+whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My
+Captain has gone.
+
+Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.
+
+At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The life I
+live is too difficult.
+
+And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The Captain has
+not died too soon.
+
+What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him. I shall
+never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt; I am still
+enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ... into what? What
+does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying here? Can he put
+thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am? What does he think now
+of slavery? of State rights? of war?
+
+He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is better. He
+is at peace. Would I also were at peace.
+
+I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to the road,
+fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor Federal was in
+sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at Bunker Hill.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were approaching
+Culpeper.
+
+During the months of August and September we were in camp near Orange
+Court-House.
+
+My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I should
+have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had so greatly
+suffered because of the Captain's death.
+
+My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no purpose. To
+fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I had no relish for
+fighting. Fighting was absurd.
+
+The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he imagined
+General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great reluctance in
+giving orders that would result in the death of Americans at the hands
+of Americans. I remembered that at Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the
+trigger, I had found no hatred in me toward the man I was trying to
+kill. I wondered if the men generally were without hate. I believed they
+were; there might be exceptions.
+
+We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's division.
+We had camp guard and picket duty.
+
+Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had been
+dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was monotonous. Some
+conscripts were received into each company. Many of the old men would
+never return to us. Some were lying with two inches of earth above their
+breasts; some were in the distant South on crutches they must
+always use.
+
+The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious. Captain
+Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.
+
+I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I made an
+object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy. Where had there
+ever been such an experience? I thought of myself as Berwick, and pitied
+him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him _you_.
+
+Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had been
+promoted, and was elsewhere.
+
+At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many successive
+nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the "me" that I saw
+as a different person from the "me" that saw.
+
+My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the surgeon.
+
+Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long ago given
+me up for dead.
+
+Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My mind was
+filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How I ever began
+to think of such, a possibility I could not know.
+
+My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and powerful
+and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the strong likelihood
+was that it was neither, but was of medium worth.
+
+My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman, young and
+sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who was she? Was
+she all fancy?
+
+Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman except the
+nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in Richmond and
+elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the face of my dream.
+None seemed it's equal in sweetness and dignity.
+
+I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the men. I
+had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel, and as the
+lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.
+
+No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history of myself
+that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but one--Jerry
+Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was a great forager,
+and kept us both in food. The rations were almost regular, but the fat
+bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The other men were in good
+health, and ate heartily of the coarse food given them. Butler had bacon
+and meal to sell.
+
+The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did not
+exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not decide to
+say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell him all I
+knew. He would have thought me insane.
+
+I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket
+regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner self.
+
+At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would recur
+to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my original
+regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time in which to
+ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if ever I got the
+smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and there to never
+let it go.
+
+Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be gone
+before I could define them. They left no result but doubt--sometimes
+fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset me--not of this war, but
+war. I had a vague notion that in some hazy past I had listened to
+strong reasons against war. Were they from the Captain? No; he had been
+against war, but he had fought for the South with relish--they did not
+come from him. None the less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they
+more strongly impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from
+some one who not only gave precept but also lived example.
+
+Who was he? I might not hope to know.
+
+Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at times
+strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men were good
+men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said against them; but I
+felt that I was not entirely of them, that they had little thought
+beyond their personal duties, which they were willing always to do
+provided their officers clearly prescribed them, and their personal
+attachments, in which I could have no part. Of course there were
+exceptions.
+
+I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had a
+certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet an
+incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not mere pity.
+The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company H. A lieutenant
+was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate was our highest
+non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the company's commander.
+The officer in command did not, however, use influence upon the men to
+secure votes. My preference for the position was Louis Bellot, who had
+been dangerously wounded at Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon
+return to the company. I took up his cause, and, without his knowledge,
+secured enough votes to elect him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a
+miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was failing.
+Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts of this war. It
+was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason told me that the
+invaders should be driven back. The South had not been guilty of
+plunging the two countries into war; the South had tried to avert war.
+The only serious question which my mind could raise upon the conduct of
+the South was: Had we sufficiently tried to avert war? Had we done all
+that we could? I did not know, and I doubted.
+
+As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon marching
+on to battle, and I thought of all this immense preparation for
+wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with horror in my heart. Why
+could not this war have been avoided? I did not know, but I felt that an
+overwhelming responsibility attached somewhere, for it was not likely
+that all possibilities of peace had been exhausted by our people.
+
+As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes and their
+responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with them; but I
+was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine, and upon me also
+weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust upon our side.
+
+The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me the
+cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong. I looked
+in the faces of the officers and men around me and read patient
+endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at myself and said,
+Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious; go to the doctor and
+get well of your fancies.
+
+Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the Federal
+soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of men are they?
+They must believe they are right. And one side or the other must be
+wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are millions. Millions of
+men are joined together to perpetrate wrong while believing that they
+are right? Can such a condition be?
+
+Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other men in
+whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of either
+side impure?
+
+No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may differ
+conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.
+
+Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is wrong in
+warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for? For union and
+for abolition of slavery; but primarily for union.
+
+And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for slavery; but
+principally for State rights.
+
+And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+Then, may both North, and South be right?
+
+The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where? Not in
+the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had to confess
+failure. The result of my thought was only the suggestion that both of
+two seemingly opposite thoughts might possibly be true.
+
+On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a city,
+where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and at whose
+house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon my mind that
+when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the 9th, while we were
+crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march through Madison
+Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of the face of my dream.
+I thought of little else. Food was repugnant. I had fever, and was full
+of fancies. I was surprised by the thought that I had twice already been
+ill in the army. Once was at the time of the battle of Fredericksburg;
+but when and where was the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I
+had been sick in the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and
+before I ever saw Dr. Frost.
+
+Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result. Suddenly I
+connected the face of my dream with my forgotten illness. But that was
+all. My old tutor was a doctor and had attended me. I felt sure of
+so much.
+
+Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name. Some
+name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr. Some-one I had no
+doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the face of my dream, but it
+would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr. Frost had never been my teacher.
+
+We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north of
+Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not
+unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near by,
+the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect of this
+farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when alone I
+hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous march around
+Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the Shenandoah Valley after
+Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our retreat from Pennsylvania.
+
+What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in the
+camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as yet
+uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We might be
+advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to Meade's rear,
+just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two; another day might
+show. The most of the men believed that we were on a flank march similar
+to Jackson's, and some of them went so far as to say that both Ewell's
+and Hills corps were now near Madison Court-House.
+
+I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was upon
+myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me, but lay
+apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is true, reverted
+to the situation of the army, but only for a moment. Something was about
+to be done; but if I could have controlled events, I would not have
+known what to choose. One thing, however, began to loom clear through
+the dim future: if we were working to get to Meade's rear, that general
+was in far greater danger than he had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at
+Manassas Junction, between Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac
+would yield from starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there
+was no army to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.
+
+The night brought no movement.
+
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+THE ALPHABET
+
+                    "I stoop not to despair;
+     For I have battled with mine agony,
+     And made me wings wherewith to overfly
+     The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.
+
+On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I recognized the
+place; I had straggled through it on the road to Gettysburg. Again we
+went into bivouac early.
+
+That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to any clew
+I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I wondered how I could
+make a step toward an end.
+
+To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said will was
+required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of thinking all
+names that I could recall. My list was limited. Naturally my mind went
+over the roll of Company H, which, from having heard so often, I knew by
+heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so on; the work brought an idea. I
+remembered hearing some one say that a forgotten name might be recovered
+with the systematic use of the alphabet. I wondered why I had not
+thought at once of this. I felt a great sense of relief. I now had a
+purpose and a plan.
+
+At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could get was
+Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built upon the
+letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might be one of
+these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to rely upon except
+the hope that the real name, when found, would kindle at its touch a
+spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were exhausted--nothing.
+
+Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in
+nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether the
+sound awoke any response in my brain.
+
+I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I stored it
+up for future examination.
+
+Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I separated into
+two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and hard. This
+examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of hard C.
+
+H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.
+
+The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.
+
+L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.
+
+At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve, but not
+to give it equal rank with the others.
+
+Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u, and
+rejected all.
+
+The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.
+
+In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C hard, G
+hard, and K, with P a possibility.
+
+It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active, though
+I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it had been for
+days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on track of discovery.
+It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to get where I
+was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would likely take me
+hours more to advance a single step farther.
+
+A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very unusual
+name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen written, except as
+the name of this Doctor? This thought included other thoughts--one was
+the idea of a written name. I had been following but one line of
+approach, while there were two,--sound and form. I had not considered
+the written approach, but now I saw the importance of that process.
+Another thought was, whether it would help me for the name to be not
+merely unusual, but entirely unknown. I could not decide this question.
+I saw reasons for and against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except
+as applied to the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to
+roll names and names through my brain for years without result, if my
+brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an old
+man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted another,
+wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in hunting a word
+impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and put it to sleep.
+The uncommon name would cause me to reject all common names, perhaps at
+first presentation; my attention would be concentrated on peculiar
+sounds and forms. If my mind were now in condition to respond to the
+name, I might get it very soon.
+
+In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my objective, for
+I sank to sleep.
+
+At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the night's
+work. I wrote as follows:--
+
+C G K.... P
+
+Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that impressed me.
+I had C without any following.
+
+For G, I had _Gayle_, or _Gail_.
+
+For K, _Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight_.
+
+For P, only _Payne_.
+
+We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them without
+looking at what I had written.
+
+All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare
+initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.
+
+Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What was its
+peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would leave it. It
+did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted to it simply
+because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed up large in my
+mind and took enormous precedence.
+
+The name Payne was given up.
+
+But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to Payne. If K
+was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took me an hour to
+find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined to find it. It was
+simple, after all--the attraction lay in the letters a-y-n-e. At once I
+added to my K's the name Kayne, although the name evoked no interest.
+Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane was much easier and added it to
+my list, wondering why I had not thought of it before.
+
+The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight? The
+peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not drop the
+name, but tried to sound each of my others as two syllables.
+
+"What's that you say, Jones?"
+
+It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.
+
+I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me, Ka-mes,
+Kay-me."
+
+The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through woods or
+fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground, but saw it not.
+My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds through my
+ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants and one or
+two vowels.
+
+Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain Haskell's
+quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's name? I soon had
+it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam and Kiyam to my list. We
+marched on.
+
+Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h. I felt
+greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which had the K
+sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more in Knight?
+Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and the vowel I had
+also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way toward Ki, or toward
+K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.
+
+Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le, Ki-me,
+Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me, involuntarily holding
+to the unfamiliar sound.
+
+For a long time I worked without any result, and I became greatly
+puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I repeated
+over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor Ka-mes, Doctor
+Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes, Doctor Ki-yam." The
+last name sounded nearly right.
+
+The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face with
+bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words again, and
+at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit the face to the
+name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor Ka-me, they do not fit;
+Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me,
+Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they dominated all
+other words. The strangeness of the name did not affect me; in fact, the
+name was neither strange nor familiar; and just because the name did not
+sound strange, I took courage and hope. I reasoned that such a name
+ought to sound strange, and that it did not was cheering. I was on the
+brink of something, I knew not what.
+
+We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps marched by on
+a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that we were ordered
+to bivouac.
+
+My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so great
+importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered that this
+one name was the clew to my past life, and was the beginning of my
+future life; the recovery of one name would mean all recovery; I had
+resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this name, and I felt convinced
+that I should find it, and soon. What was to result I would risk; months
+before, I had not had the courage to wish to know my past, but now I
+would welcome change. I was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life;
+I would hazard the venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former
+condition should prove unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance
+to escape it--by being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be
+much worse than my present state.
+
+That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown forward a
+mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but one opinion
+among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army was flanking
+Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had been sent to Georgia
+with his corps. But why were we making such short marches? Several
+reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said we were getting as near as
+possible first, "taking a running start," to use his words. Youmans
+thought that General Lee wanted to save the army from straggling before
+the day of battle. Mackay thought Ewell would make the long march, and
+that we must wait on his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as
+Ewell had marched to our right.
+
+Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around Meade. We
+were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of it, from which
+Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun, while Meade now occupied
+Pope's former position. Could General Lee hope that Meade, with Pope's
+example staring him in the face, would allow himself to be entrapped?
+This question was discussed by the men.
+
+Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley last
+June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing Meade
+would recall.
+
+Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far advanced for
+Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson thought that General
+Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try to effect the very thing
+he had once succeeded in; besides, he said, every general must provide
+against every contingency, but it is clearly impossible to do so, and in
+neglecting some things for others, he runs his risks and takes his
+chances. Meade would not retreat until he knew that the flank movement
+was in progress; to retreat in fear of having to retreat would be
+nonsense; and if Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all
+up with him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his
+tactics and follow the retreat.
+
+On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at least in our
+front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we overlooked the river,
+and every man was a vedette, as it were. I lay in the line, trying to
+take the first step leading to the reconstruction of my life.
+
+"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been abandoned,
+I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker power to hold me
+had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was imperfect. It did not
+seem wrong, but deficient rather; something was needed to complete
+it--what was that something?
+
+Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I wondered why.
+I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam was a poet? No;
+that could be no reason. Was it because he was a Persian? I could see no
+connection there. Was it because of the peculiar spelling of the name?
+It might be. What was the peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must
+think again of the written or printed name, not the sound only of
+the word.
+
+Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.
+
+I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought "Khay-me."
+
+By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and
+simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my brain.
+It would not do.
+
+Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not discouraged. I
+thought of no other name. Everything else had been definitely abandoned.
+Without reasoning upon it I knew that the name was right, and I knew,
+as if by intuition, how to proceed to a conclusion. I tried again, and
+knew beforehand that I should succeed.
+
+This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I did three
+things.
+
+There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top of the
+hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote "Doctor Khayme."
+I held the words before my eyes; I called the face of my dream before
+me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."
+
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+A DOUBLE
+
+     "One of these men is genius to the other;
+      And so of these: which is the natural man,
+      And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his
+daughter. I know her name--Lydia.
+
+Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of
+sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face of my
+fancy, but for the look of care.
+
+Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on the bank
+of the river.
+
+For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath. Now I felt
+that I must move or die.
+
+I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar
+physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned on
+my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my chin
+resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing nothing.
+
+Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of paradise.
+
+The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare hill; a
+shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands violently, and
+fell. The picture vanished.
+
+Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had fallen--was
+making his painful way alone in the night; he went on and on until he
+was swallowed by the darkness.
+
+Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in blue
+uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither officer
+nor man; both were in blue.
+
+Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I saw him
+standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him sick in a
+tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.
+
+Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue helping
+another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide themselves in a
+secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is the place I saw at
+Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man breaks his gun. The
+two go away.
+
+So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had belonged
+to this man.
+
+Who was this man?
+
+A soldier, evidently.
+
+What was his name?
+
+I did not know.
+
+Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?
+
+He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate spy.
+
+My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should recover
+the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would be the key
+to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be suddenly complete and
+continuous, but now I found the Doctor supplanted by a strange man whose
+name even I did not know, and who acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming
+to be a Confederate and at other times a Federal. I must exert my will
+and get rid of this man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have
+eaten nothing; I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever.
+I will get rid of him.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an ambulance,
+but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the picture, and
+tried again.
+
+Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden in a
+straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.
+
+Who is Willis?
+
+I do not know; only Willis.
+
+It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the Doctor
+without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's face flits
+by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain an
+instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man persisted,
+and contrary to my will.
+
+My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there no Dr.
+Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face was again
+before me. That look of care--or worse than care, anxiety--could it be
+mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my fancy, but the look was its
+own. I recognized the face, but the expression was not due to my thought
+or to my error; it was independent of me.
+
+I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the Man!
+Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who sometimes
+wore blue and sometimes gray.
+
+Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was nothing
+in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of the moon at
+Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of my Captain,
+lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the enemy. My brain
+was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I doubted all reality. My
+fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves were all unstrung. I felt
+upon the boundary edge of heaven and hell. I knew enough to craze me
+should I learn no more. I watched the moon; it took the form of Lydia's
+face; a tree became the strange Man who would not forsake me.
+
+Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was mysterious.
+His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The others are real.
+I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and her name. I know Willis
+and his name. The Man's face and name are unknown; yet does he come
+unbidden and uppermost and always.
+
+I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
+retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
+Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
+Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
+Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
+Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a new
+thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at Gaines's
+Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.
+
+But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
+Manassas.
+
+But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first Manassas.
+
+Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped Willis. Why
+should he help Willis?
+
+Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
+soldier?
+
+I know his face and I know his name.
+
+I must hunt this thought down.
+
+Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
+experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and his
+companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.
+
+But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from the
+spot? He was not captured.
+
+Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these two men.
+I must try to remember whether I saw what became of them.
+
+Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange man; he
+binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there! again a
+thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that before--with
+the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I could see that Willis
+was a sergeant; but how could I know that his name was Willis? Possibly
+I heard the strange man call him Jake--So! again it comes. I have the
+full name.
+
+But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to rise,
+and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch, and helps
+him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis drops the gun, for
+it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless. Then the strange man
+breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them moving slowly through the
+woods--but strange! they are no farther from me than before. I must have
+really followed them that day. They go on and get into the creek, and
+climb with difficulty the farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they
+reach a stubble field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels
+by one of the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down;
+then he speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he
+tells Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
+does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
+himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.
+
+I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I must not
+now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.
+
+Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained by Jones,
+and I go with Jones even though I want to see what becomes of Willis.
+
+It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I feel that
+he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear sounds of rattling
+harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops and looks at the wagon; I
+see a man get out of the wagon--a very small man; the man says, "Is
+that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who this man is, and though I wonder I
+yet know that he is Dr. Khayme. Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor
+calls for brandy. Then the Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in
+my head and all vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.
+
+It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I could
+not doubt it.
+
+The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my place
+near the right of Company H.
+
+What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground, and
+that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after that?
+
+My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him and
+failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see him, and
+failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer in regard to
+Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones and in regard to
+myself also. I had got to the end of that experience, for I had no doubt
+that it was an experience of my own in some incomprehensible connection
+with Jones.
+
+Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see Jones and
+Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man also. Who is
+he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an ambulance, and all
+go away into darkness.
+
+My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had not
+abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither? Both? If
+both, which followed the other? I did not know.
+
+I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I fail. I
+had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure; I try
+again, and fail.
+
+Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot remember
+Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.
+
+Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the corporal
+in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only Jones I can
+recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different Jones; who was
+he? I must try to get him.
+
+The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the Doctor
+in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting ready for what?
+A package has been made. They are talking. The lights are put out and I
+lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones. In the dim light of the stars
+he comes out of the tent; a man on a horse is near; he holds another
+horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts, and the two ride away. And I hear
+Jones ask, "What is your name?" and I hear the man reply, "Jones."
+
+What folly!
+
+But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then another
+picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in the night:
+Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate horse as black as
+jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men, and the other Jones is
+there, too, and I see that he is joyful that Jones is caught. What utter
+folly! Is everybody to be named Jones? I have followed one Jones and
+have found two--possibly three. Who is the true Jones? Is there any true
+Jones? Has my fevered brain but conjured up a picture, or series of
+pictures, of events that never had existence? Why should one Jones be
+glad that another Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.
+
+Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had resulted in
+an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I gave myself up to
+mere revery.
+
+Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was also an
+end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr. Khayme, and of
+Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with possibly another Jones;
+with these names I ought to work out the whole enigma. I knew that Jones
+was the man who had broken his gun; the man who had helped Willis; the
+man who had been under the bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another
+thought,--the man who had been wounded there.
+
+I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more relations found
+would untangle everything. But how to find more? I must think. Yet
+thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could quit thinking, the
+thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit thinking? I remembered that
+I had received lessons upon the power of the will from Captain Haskell
+and ... from ... somebody ... who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.
+
+And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any, could
+there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused way I groped
+in the tangle of this question until I became completely lost again,
+having gained, however, the knowledge that Dr. Khayme had taught me
+concerning the will.
+
+I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the effort was
+vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the Doctor's dark
+face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a pipe--yes, a pipe, with its
+carven bowl showing a strange head; and I could recall more easily the
+Captain's long jaw, and triangle of a face, and even the slight lisp
+with which he spoke. What relationship had these two men? If Captain
+Haskell had ever known Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of
+the Doctor? I had known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where
+had I known the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my
+teacher. Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor
+associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and with
+Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an
+ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.
+
+Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate
+hospital.
+
+The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and the
+Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a possibility? My
+brain became clearer. My people must be in Charleston. The Captain may
+have known the Doctor in Charleston. They may have been friends. They
+talked of similar subjects--at least, they had views which affected me
+similarly. Yet that might mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.
+
+Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant these
+two men seemed to me to be at once identical and separate--even
+opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I remembered that the
+Captain once had said he was not sure that there was such a condition as
+absolute individuality. Preposterous or not, the thought, gone at once,
+had brought another in its train: I had never seen these two men
+together, and I had never seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the
+Doctor was, there was Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering
+notion of double and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was
+seemingly a Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he
+was a Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas
+had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun rather
+than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had helped a
+wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been part of a very
+deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully that he would be
+received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather to act in entire
+conformity with his supposed character. He must always act the complete
+Federal when with federals, so that no suspicion should attach to him.
+No doubt he had remained in the Federal camp until he had got the
+information needed, and had returned to the Confederates before he had
+been wounded by the shell.
+
+So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every effort
+I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That Jones was a
+Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd notion of a double had
+drawn me away from the right track; he was a double, it is true, but
+only on the surface; he was a Confederate acting the Federal.
+
+Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary about
+him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his capacity to
+interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he changes clothing. No,
+not his only one; he has another: he is absolutely ubiquitous.
+
+That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear? Just
+because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is clear. My
+head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may be delusion. Dr.
+Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but as to this Jones, or
+these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief. Jones remains. Wherever I
+turn I find him. He will not down. If he is a fact, he must be the most
+important person related to my life. More so than Lydia?
+
+What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none the
+less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all, that my name
+is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought shows me that this
+supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones, and the spy was my
+brother, I should have heard of him long ago.
+
+Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself? The
+Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and I had
+never heard of one of them.
+
+But if he had been my brother, _he_ would have hunted _me_, and would
+have found me! That was it.
+
+This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been killed!
+
+He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ... that is
+why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him since. Why had I
+at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I see that I assumed too
+much--or too little. I had seen him under the fire, and had seen him no
+more; that was all.
+
+Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been killed.
+
+It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of events, does
+not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the ground again, just
+as the events succeeded, from antecedent to consequent, rather than
+backward. It is more difficult--leaving memory aside--to take present
+conditions and discover the unknown which evolved these conditions, than
+to take present conditions and show what will be evolved from them. Of
+course, if we already know what preceded these conditions, there is no
+discovery to be claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our
+knowledge of the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere
+development naturally augured from the present. An incapable general
+means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable general.
+
+Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill where I had
+seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had only proved the
+truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a considerable distance,
+and from the past had followed Jones forward as well as my imperfect
+powers permitted; again I had jumped back and had followed him until he
+met the Doctor in the night. The episode of lifting Willis into the
+ambulance seemed a separate event of very short duration. My mind had
+unconsciously appreciated the difficulty of working backward, and had in
+reality endeavoured to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing
+Jones into several periods and following the events of each period in
+order of time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it,
+became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to
+suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural process.
+
+First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in blue,
+helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him when he
+reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor come to
+Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third, Jones--alone
+and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell bursting over him,
+and I lose him.
+
+I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred, and
+none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been lost to me,
+if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I wanted to find
+connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the Jones at the secret
+place in the woods with the Jones that I had seen fall, and I set my
+memory to work, but obtained nothing. The scene on the hill seemed
+unrelated to that of Willis.
+
+There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a forest at
+night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make nothing out of
+it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred before the time of
+Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of Jonas in a tent, and of
+an officer in blue showing him a map, and I could also remember that I
+had seen or heard that Jones had been on a shore with the Doctor and
+Lydia. These events had no connection. Between Jones in blue and Jones
+in gray there were gaps which I could not cross.
+
+Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events with the
+more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the past, hunting for
+the slightest clews.
+
+And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim past,
+that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the Doctor
+attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I strained my head
+to recall this scene more clearly. In this case Jones had no uniform;
+neither did the others wear uniform. And now a new doubt--why in a tent
+and without uniform?
+
+For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that the
+Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so early a
+period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or felt that Doctor
+Khayme's relationship with me was so near that, had he been a
+Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long since.
+
+Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought which
+followed.
+
+But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I could not
+have told, but I knew it.
+
+Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like intuition in my
+knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not be wounded rather than
+sick? How could I know that this scene in the tent was not the sequence
+of the scene of the bursting shell? But I say that I knew Jones was
+sick, and not wounded. How could I know this?
+
+And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I knew
+that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.
+
+I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I reached
+the conclusion that only one of these events was an instance of
+knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that Jones was in gray
+in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had _he_ told me so? I knew that
+he had been sick. Had he told me so? In any case, I knew these things
+and knew that my knowledge was simple. But how could I know that Jones
+was now alive?
+
+Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make was, that I
+felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to myself for this
+knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than intuition. I felt
+that it was experience, not the experience of sight or hearing or any of
+the senses, but experience nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to
+call it so in these days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was
+none the less valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did
+not doubt. There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is
+alive, seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor
+touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will he
+have the life of expression and intelligence in his face. Communication
+between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or direction. But I
+saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature; the change of feature
+is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of the world affects every
+individual mind ... where did I hear such an idea advanced? From whom?
+Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.
+
+I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many pages, of
+the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.
+
+I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ... why, then,
+was he in the army?
+
+Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as a
+surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the tent
+itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore
+no uniform.
+
+But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a surgeon?
+And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance made the army
+almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers, assisted by the
+Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon, although he wears no
+uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on occasions; when at work at his
+calling he puts it off.
+
+I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything anew--in
+a new light.
+
+I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not found me?
+Again comes that thought of double personality, and this time it will
+not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's utterances upon the
+universal mind, and upon the power of the will. I can remember that I
+had almost feared him ... and suddenly I remember that Willis had said
+that the Doctor could read the mind ... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?
+
+My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march had come,
+I could not have moved.
+
+What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had simply
+remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could tell what
+another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had spoken the
+words to ME!
+
+Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he had my
+mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be? But I
+remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to mind
+extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a
+double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with mind
+is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am Jones. No
+wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder that I knew he
+wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was not dead.
+
+Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I am Jones
+Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.
+
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+IDENTITY
+
+     "Which, is the side that I must go withal?
+     I am with both: each army hath a hand;
+     And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
+     They whirl asunder, and dismember me."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of blue
+soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the rout. How
+vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them then--of Dr.
+Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to desert even, in
+order to accomplish his designs.
+
+Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a mist. But
+what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only pretended to
+desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember what Jones Berwick
+felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he found pretended desertion
+necessary?
+
+Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter he
+could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now knew that I
+was once in that army.
+
+But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?
+
+Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I could not
+have easily gone North to enlist.
+
+But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier, so that
+there would have been no need of desertion?
+
+No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been asked my
+regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment. I remember
+the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when Berwick Jones
+joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside the Confederate
+uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in civilian's clothing, merely
+because I could not bear to have questions asked. So, when I had played
+the Federal, if I had presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not
+have answered questions, and the requirement to report to my company
+would have destroyed my whole plan.
+
+Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining civilian's
+clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended recruit, just as I
+had joined Company H later. This was less unlikely when coupled with the
+thought that possibly my first experience in this course had had some
+hidden influence on my second.
+
+But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a Confederate?
+The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of forgetting must be the
+reason. When, as Jones Berwick the Confederate, I became Berwick Jones
+the Federal, there must have come upon my mind a phase of oblivion
+similar to that which clouded it when I became a Confederate again.
+
+Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice just at
+the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and profound....
+What was Dr. Khayme in all this?
+
+And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I had
+carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must always have
+been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever get to be Berwick
+Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which was I at first? Had I
+ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt everything.
+
+My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first Manassas, or
+Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the Doctor; the return
+to Willis; the shore and the battle of the ships; the _Merrimac_; the
+line of the Warwick; the lines at Hanover; the night tramp in the
+swamp; crossing the hill; a blank, which my double memory knew how to
+fill, and the subsequent events of my second service in our army.
+Nothing important seemed lacking since the battle of Bull Run. Before
+that battle everything was confusion. My home was still unknown. The
+friends of my former life, so far as I could remember, had been
+Federals, if Dr. Khayme and Lydia could be called Federals.
+
+Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with that
+city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled: first, my
+life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my life at home
+and in the Confederate army before I pretended to desert to
+the Federals.
+
+I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity! Let reason
+work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can it mean any more
+than that you were known at one time as Jones Berwick and at another
+time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to think that you are two persons
+at once. Have you imagined that now, while you are a Confederate again,
+there is also a you in the Yankee army? When your connection with the
+Confederates was interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones
+Berwick; the J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you
+became a Confederate again, your name was reversed because of
+that diary!
+
+I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every word of
+the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.
+
+And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the little
+book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case I should be
+taken? Yes.
+
+But--I was going to become a Confederate again!
+
+Did the Doctor know that?
+
+Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the words he
+dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes; he helped me
+on with the Confederate uniform!
+
+Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was
+required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a Confederate?
+
+Could I not at once have named my original company and its officers? Why
+this child's play of the diary?
+
+I studied hard this phase of the tangle.
+
+Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the first
+party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable. I might
+have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and to
+detention--but for something on my person to give substance to my
+statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.
+
+But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say to a
+party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and especially at the
+thought which had caused it. I had actually forgotten, for the moment,
+that I was a real Confederate, and had begun to imagine that I had been
+a Federal trying to get into the Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor
+was helping to do so.
+
+But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a Confederate. If
+so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp? He, too, a spy? He and
+I were allies? Possibly.
+
+But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not think
+me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me to play the
+spy in the interest of the Federals.
+
+What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in the Union
+army.
+
+But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he would not
+fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God! what was it that
+he argued? And what in me was he arguing against? He had contended--I
+remember it--that the war would destroy slavery, and that was what he
+wanted to be done; and I had contended that the Union was pledged by the
+Constitution to protect slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation
+of the Union.
+
+A cold shudder came through me.
+
+In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my plan. I
+had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought gave little
+pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought him too wise to
+allow himself to be deceived.
+
+Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a course
+which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I became
+bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a tangle. I
+have not got to the bottom of this thing.
+
+Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a Confederate and
+my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy that I have deceived him
+with all his wisdom and all my reluctance to deceive him. Which of these
+two things is true?
+
+Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in some
+way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only that it was
+the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's army. I remember
+now the Doctor's telling me about movements that McClellan would make.
+These things happened in McClellan's army while I was a spy. To suppose
+that the Doctor was my ally comports with his giving me information of
+McClellan's movements. He was a surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate;
+he certainly was from Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But,
+on the other hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery,
+and his hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he
+could not have been a Confederate.
+
+Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I was in
+McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew that I was a
+spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy. How, then, could
+I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought me a Union spy, and
+that I was to go into the Confederate lines to get information, when the
+opposite was true.
+
+Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The Doctor was
+not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know that I was a
+Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.
+
+Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the second must
+be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that even Dr. Khayme
+had been deceived.
+
+Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my business
+was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I was open and
+frank. The second proposition, while possible, I reject, at least for
+a time.
+
+Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true? How
+absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is nothing false
+absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a question thoroughly, be
+not content with looking at two sides of it; look at three."
+
+Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a third
+alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a Confederate, is
+untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is untrue: what is a
+possible third?
+
+I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put myself in
+the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery notions and his
+invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he thinks, into the
+Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?
+
+Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show but that
+he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not do. Where is
+the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find it.
+
+What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I was a
+Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was opposed to
+war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in regard to the
+success of the Federals? No; he wished for the extinction of slavery.
+Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but he argued for a modification
+of slavery, and for gradual emancipation.
+
+Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would do
+violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for me to go
+back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or fewer does not
+count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of doing me good, knowing
+that he was doing the Union cause no harm.
+
+But would he not know that the information I should take to the
+Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously injuring
+his cause.
+
+Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that could not
+be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for me was too
+sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither would I
+have yielded.
+
+And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these suppositions. For
+the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and at the same time help
+me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on his part. I am forced to
+admit that he knew my true character and that I knew he knew me.
+
+But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!
+
+An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair, as he
+attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That look of
+relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that look of
+astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment preceding death,
+he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a Confederate!
+
+Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the Doctor
+have known me as such?
+
+Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than Willis
+ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides, I feel that
+Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know that Willis did not
+know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped me return to the
+Confederates.
+
+... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a rebel, he
+had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why? Why?
+
+I fear for my reason....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try another line.
+So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates the information
+gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not. My wound had caused
+me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to read the future? If he
+had such power, his course in regard to me could be understood. He knew
+that I should become unable to reveal anything to injure his cause,
+therefore he was willing to help me return to the Confederate army.
+There, at last, was a third alternative, but a bare possibility only.
+Was it even that?
+
+To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight, knew
+what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could read the
+future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could control the
+future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What are the limits? Had
+not the Doctor spoken to me of this very subject? He had reasoned
+against there being limits to the power of the mind ... notwithstanding
+my resistance to the thought I still think it; I am still thinking of
+the possibility that the Doctor controlled me, and caused me to lose the
+past in order that thus he might not be accessory to a betrayal of his
+own cause.
+
+This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how can I
+place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if there is a
+man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr. Khayme.
+
+But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing for me to
+suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I should endure
+mortification--and be without friends--and long hopeless of all
+good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not have been better for
+me to remain in the Union army? I could not see any reason for his
+subjecting me to so bitter an experience--but wait--did he not contend
+that every human being must go through an infinity of experience? That
+being true--or true to his thought--he might be just in causing me to
+endure what I have endured.
+
+Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run, seems clear
+if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has such superhuman
+power. Can I believe it?
+
+Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long till
+dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is stirring.
+My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the supernatural power
+of the Doctor.
+
+What would the possession of such power imply? To see future events and
+control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least. But the mind, is
+it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do marvellous things. That letter
+of my father's was a mystery.... What! My father!
+
+The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.
+
+I have a father? Who is my father?
+
+The thought brings me to my feet.
+
+I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front stretches
+the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises come from rear
+and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no doubt, for the
+march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there should I be also.
+Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was signed Jones Berwick,
+Sr. From what place was it written? I do not know. But I know that my
+father is the man in the tent where the Doctor attends me sick.
+
+I make a step forward.
+
+Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the line is
+moving back; we are ordered back!"
+
+I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.
+
+I understand.
+
+I am going to my father.
+
+A flood of recollection has poured upon me.
+
+I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.
+
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+REPARATION
+
+     "Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
+      And welcome home again discarded faith."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of it would
+have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was made by its
+all coming.
+
+I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my father. The
+Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover my country.
+
+At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to my name
+distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my duty to
+battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger and death. The
+glory of the Confederate victories would now bring me pain and not joy.
+Oh! the deepness of the woe!
+
+But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it complete. I
+must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous yet criminal--a
+past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a barbarous future. I
+should be with the Doctor; I should be myself, and always myself, for I
+knew that my mind should nevermore suffer a repetition of the mysterious
+affliction which had changed me. My malady had departed forever; and
+with this knowledge there had come upon the glimmering emotions of
+repressed passion the almost overpowering consciousness that there was a
+woman in the world.
+
+I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had gone; I
+would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going. I wept and
+laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was past and future. I
+was strong and well. With my healing had come a revolution of another
+kind--a physical change which I felt would make of me a different
+creature from the poor moody rebel in rags, or even the groping Yankee
+spy of the day and of the year before.
+
+How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted and true.
+No matter what should befall them, they would continue to be true and
+loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the blackest
+disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage and for
+fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may conquer them. Their
+soldierly honour will be maintained even when they go down in defeat, as
+they must; never will shame lay its touch upon their ways, no matter
+what their destiny. I honour them, more now since I know the might of
+their enemies; I love them; I am proud of their high deeds, but I am
+done with them. In my heart alone can I do them reverence. My hand must
+be against them, as it has been for them.
+
+Rätions? Rãtions! The Federals say _rãtions_! Why did I not follow that
+clew?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place to
+cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was lighting
+the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the well-known sounds of
+a moving army--an army which had been my pride and now must be my enemy.
+How often had I followed the red flag! How I had raised my voice in the
+tumult of the charge--mingling no dissentient note in the mighty concert
+of the fierce old rebel yell!
+
+What will they think of me? I know full well what they will think, and
+the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to beat. They will
+say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the Yankees; not at once will
+they say that, but in a week or two when hope of my return has been
+abandoned--and a few will say that Jones has lost his mind and has
+wandered off. The first--the unkind--will be right, and they will be
+wrong. The others--the generous--will be utterly wrong. I have not lost
+my mind; I have found it, and found it "for good." The report of my
+desertion will come to Adjutant Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will
+they tell? I hope not. Will they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I
+cannot hope it.
+
+Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones Berwick
+live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men live
+forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than death
+which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall never die. On
+through the ages! That bright star--almost the only one left in the
+graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it born!
+
+I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was up; I kept
+it on my right. What should I do and say when I should reach our men?
+Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to them quickly. The
+rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of infantry were seeking to
+fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or there would be a third Bull Run.
+
+But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid being
+captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will call for
+Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General Morell and to
+General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss of a day, half a
+day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to be falling back now.
+To retreat at once may save it--to delay means terrible disaster.
+
+I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do, to make
+the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy retreat of the
+army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its destruction, I shall be
+happy. I will even say that my service as a Confederate was a small
+price to pay ... what had the Doctor said? He had said that my infirmity
+was a power! He had said that he could imagine cases in which my
+peculiar affliction would give great opportunity for serving the
+country. What a mind that man has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he
+has had active part in what has befallen me.
+
+I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through wood and
+field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses and fields
+and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste, knowing or feeling
+that I shall find no help here. Here I shun nothing; here I seek
+nothing--beyond this region are the people I want. What can I say? what
+can I prove? This is the question that troubles me. If I say that I am a
+Union soldier, I must tell the whole truth, and that I cannot do;
+besides, it would not be believed. If I say I am a deserter, my
+declarations as to Lee's movement will not be taken without suspicion.
+What shall I do? If I could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal
+clothing; I might hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems
+impossible. I must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr.
+Khayme! But I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he
+is somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive? And
+Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long months!
+Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall find Lydia, but
+I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time; to seek the Doctor
+might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to the general
+headquarters.
+
+To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another. I hurry
+on. What do they mean by fighting down there?
+
+I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the fields or
+roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is bare. No smoke
+rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled; the roads are
+untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.
+
+I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints cover the
+road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout and weep for
+joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement. That is, if they
+go far enough west.
+
+Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does it
+mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that Lee is
+preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are only
+to deceive.
+
+On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road. Other
+cavalry may be coming or going.
+
+The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow it. I go
+straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the road beyond
+the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It looks like a man. It
+is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit I cock my rifle and hold
+it at the ready. I cannot see that he is armed. I go straight to him. He
+is lying on the ground, with his back toward me. He hears me. He rises
+to his feet. He is unarmed. He is greatly astonished, but is silent.
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I surrender," he says.
+
+"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body of your
+men."
+
+He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your game."
+
+He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the west, and
+goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to us?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then let me have the gun," he says.
+
+I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order to
+claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
+believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is not
+impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he wants to
+march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him back to the Union
+army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not give him the gun. But I
+will make him talk.
+
+"What do you want with the gun?"
+
+"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference," he says.
+
+He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and down
+hill, hardly changing direction.
+
+Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what made
+you quit?"
+
+"My mind changed," I say.
+
+He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
+wouldn't say that, if I was you."
+
+"Why not, since it is true?"
+
+"It will do you no good."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do as you
+please."
+
+He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the whole truth.
+
+I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them. Their
+leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done a good
+job. How did you happen to get him?"
+
+"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."
+
+"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have information
+of extreme importance to give him."
+
+"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if you
+please."
+
+"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must make a
+condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning slightly.
+
+"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send me to
+General Meade at once."
+
+"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."
+
+"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to count. If
+you object to it, however, I withdraw it."
+
+"Then, who are you?"
+
+"I decline to say."
+
+"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should like to
+know how I am to rely on what you tell."
+
+"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a horse, and
+send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me until I tell what
+I have to tell."
+
+"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and another
+for this man."
+
+Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You see, I
+am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served Thomas; now let
+him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"
+
+"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean your
+flank."
+
+"The devil you say! Infantry?"
+
+"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six divisions."
+
+"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me the
+truth?"
+
+"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
+countenance."
+
+"When did Ewell begin his march?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"When did Hill march?"
+
+"He began to move on the 8th."
+
+"Where was he before that date?"
+
+"In camp near Orange Court-House."
+
+"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"
+
+"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."
+
+"Which division is yours?"
+
+"Please withdraw that question."
+
+"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night of the
+8th?"
+
+"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."
+
+"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"
+
+"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."
+
+"Where on the 10th?"
+
+"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."
+
+"And where on the 11th?"
+
+"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a few miles
+from Jeffersonton."
+
+"And where was Ewell's corps?"
+
+"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed Hill's
+yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Going up?"
+
+"No, sir; it went toward our right."
+
+"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"Who commands them?"
+
+"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."
+
+"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"
+
+"It began to move up the river at daybreak."
+
+"Is that all you have of importance?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger. General
+Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with Jackson's march last
+year around General Pope." I say this very earnestly, and continue: "You
+ought to know that I am telling you the truth. A man coming into your
+lines and ordering an unarmed man to take him to you, ought to be
+believed."
+
+"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
+impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
+life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
+nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of prepossessing. The
+homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than I am. The strain to
+which I have been subjected for days and weeks, and especially for the
+last forty-eight hours, must be telling fearfully upon me. Uncouth,
+dirty, ragged, starved, weak through fever and strong through unnatural
+excitement, there can be no wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He
+may suspect that such a creature is seeking the presence of General
+Meade in order to assassinate him.
+
+"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other weapons. Bind
+my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this horse's belly. All I
+ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I am not wretchedly
+mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch for me."
+
+"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
+gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for your
+life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."
+
+He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.
+
+"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling the
+truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived in some
+way. Good luck to you."
+
+He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.
+
+I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine, and his
+holsters were not empty.
+
+"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.
+
+We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are nearing the
+river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad trains, directly in
+front but far away.
+
+The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my horse's
+sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do not stop. I
+say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and storms, but
+keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound to my side, and
+I feel his hand on my collar.
+
+"Are you crazy?" he shouts.
+
+I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a suspicion
+may ruin my plan.
+
+After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the camps.
+We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.
+
+At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide, giving him
+the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard, before the
+general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers and orderlies.
+The aide approached the general, who turned and looked at me. The
+general held the note in his hand.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked."
+
+"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.
+
+"What brigade?"
+
+"McGowan's."
+
+"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"
+
+"South Carolina."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"Wilcox's."
+
+"How many brigades are in that division?"
+
+"Four, General."
+
+"Name them."
+
+"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."
+
+"From what states?"
+
+"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade is from
+Georgia."
+
+"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"
+
+"This morning, sir, before daylight"
+
+"You say that a movement was in progress?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What?"
+
+"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."
+
+"Up what river?"
+
+"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."
+
+"You say the army? General Lee's army?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to Georgia."
+
+"Did you see the other troops?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."
+
+"Did you see both corps?"
+
+"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in the
+afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours passing."
+
+The officers standing about were attentive, even serious. General
+Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.
+
+"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"
+
+"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there are some
+officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if they
+were here."
+
+"Who are they?"
+
+"General Morell is one, sir."
+
+All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I saw one of
+them tap his forehead.
+
+"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.
+
+"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."
+
+"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without evasion.
+What are you to General Morell?"
+
+"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that he
+would know me and believe me."
+
+"What are you to General Grover?"
+
+"He knew me, General"
+
+"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now with this
+army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent witnesses."
+
+"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me out."
+
+"General Porter is no longer in this army."
+
+"Then General Butterfield."
+
+"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."
+
+I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling for Dr.
+Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise. What had become
+of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who by bare possibility
+might have heard of me through General Morell, was, as I knew very well,
+far from this army. Certainly the war had been hard on the general
+officers of this Army of the Potomac. I would risk one more name.
+
+"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."
+
+"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"
+
+"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."
+
+General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head slightly.
+
+"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going to ask
+you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to answer quickly
+and without many words. How do you happen to know that the colonel of
+the Eleventh Massachusetts is named Blaisdell?"
+
+I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade alone, I
+should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea again came that
+he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to answer quickly, so I
+said, "I had friends in that regiment, General."
+
+The officers had gathered around their commander as close as etiquette
+allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of them very
+serious--others with sneers."
+
+"Name one of your friends."
+
+"John Lawler, sir."
+
+"What company?"
+
+"Company D."
+
+An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.
+
+"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know General Grover
+and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did General Grover command?
+Where was it that you knew him?"
+
+"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
+information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
+would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
+Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"
+
+"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a look.
+
+"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.
+
+A second orderly was sent off.
+
+All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to question me.
+I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the general, and a
+plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor appeared.
+
+"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"
+
+"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the Doctor
+quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful self-control
+would not even now desert him.
+
+"How do you know they were still moving?"
+
+"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the movement,
+sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on his conduct
+depended my peace for the future. If he should betray me, I should
+henceforth be a living curiosity.
+
+"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.
+
+The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how to
+answer. I was silent.
+
+"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"
+
+"Start where, General?"
+
+"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was moving? If
+you intended to be of service to us, why did you delay?"
+
+Here was an opening.
+
+"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday, General;
+besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of the nature of
+General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could give the Doctor some
+signal before he should speak--before he should recognize me. I was
+determined to prevent his exposing me, no matter at what personal risk.
+
+"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.
+
+"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me, General. But
+that was only additional to the circumstances of position and direction
+of march."
+
+"The men? What do the men know of such things?"
+
+"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the country, from
+having marched over it many times. They were in the August campaign of
+last year; they said that the present movement could mean nothing except
+a repetition of General Jackson's flank march of last year."
+
+The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon me. The
+officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances one
+at another.
+
+"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"
+
+"I was in Jackson's corps, General."
+
+"Did you make the march under him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of last
+year?"
+
+"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General Jackson's corps
+at the very place where I left Hill's corps this morning. On August 25th
+last year General Jackson crossed the Hedgeman River on his flank march.
+Hill's corps this morning began to move toward the crossing of
+the river."
+
+"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"
+
+"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."
+
+"Do you know him when you see him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"
+
+"Yes, sir--many times."
+
+"Have you seen General Ewell?"
+
+"I would not know General Ewell, sir."
+
+"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"
+
+"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Yesterday, General."
+
+"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"
+
+"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it took many
+hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different brigades told us
+they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it, General."
+
+The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were for the
+purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without change of
+substance.
+
+The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
+reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General Meade.
+Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.
+
+The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade, "General,
+I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to meet him, if
+but a few yards."
+
+The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.
+
+I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or no!"
+
+General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.
+
+The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.
+
+Intense gravity was all over him.
+
+General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and shook his
+head; "I obey orders, General," he said.
+
+"Then reply," said the general.
+
+"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose,
+however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head.
+Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a huddle.
+
+"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.
+
+"Do you vouch for him?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"He brings information of great import, if true; there is immense danger
+in accepting it, if false."
+
+"I will answer for him with my life, General."
+
+"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And he will
+tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"
+
+"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."
+
+"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very
+reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.
+
+"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may confide in
+the general. You see, General, there is a private matter in which my
+friend here is greatly interested, and which he does not want
+everybody to hear."
+
+"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is bringing
+me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the general; "now
+speak up and convince me, and be quick."
+
+"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I am a
+regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."
+
+"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so long to
+tell it?"
+
+He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending despatches
+like the woods afire.
+
+
+
+XL
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+     "And all that was death
+     Grows life, grows love,
+     Grows love."--BROWNING.
+
+The Doctor held my hand.
+
+Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub rose;
+clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and
+south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.
+
+But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were three
+corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick, Sykes, and
+Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the morning of this
+day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until these troops should
+succeed in recrossing to the north side of the river, a strong force
+must hold the bridges.
+
+Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this was the
+first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.
+
+Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and eastward on
+every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his eyes and sobs in
+his voice. I had never seen him thus.
+
+We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and the
+wagons ready to move.
+
+"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.
+
+He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not see; all
+its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain, remained
+there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and came back
+to me.
+
+"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.
+
+I got in.
+
+By my side was a woman ... weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the horizon.
+In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P. Hill; in the
+south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.
+
+The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to the
+darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, there sat,
+apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, a group
+of three.
+
+One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at least a
+sage, at least a hero.
+
+One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.
+
+One was a common soldier.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***
diff --git a/12229-h/12229-h.htm b/12229-h/12229-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..beeed0a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-h/12229-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,15947 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta name="generator" content=
+"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org">
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+"text/html; charset=UTF-8">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Robinson Crusoe, by Johann
+Daniel DeFoe.</title>
+
+<style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+    P {  margin-top: .75em;
+         margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+         font-size: 14pt;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    blockquote {text-align: justify;
+         margin-left: 15%;
+         margin-right: 15%;}
+    .ctr { TEXT-ALIGN: center }
+    IMG {
+         BORDER-RIGHT: 0px;
+         BORDER-TOP: 0px;
+         BORDER-LEFT: 0px;
+         BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 {     text-align: center; }
+    HR { width: 33%; }
+    // -->
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***</div>
+
+<br>
+<h1>WHO GOES THERE?</h1>
+<br>
+<h2>THE STORY OF A SPY</h2>
+<h4>IN</h4>
+<h2>THE CIVIL WAR</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>B.K. BENSON</h3>
+<br>
+<h5>1900</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<br>
+<center><a href="#INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION.</a><br>
+<a href="#I">I. THE ADVANCE.</a><br>
+<a href="#II">II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.</a><br>
+<a href="#III">III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#IV">IV. A PERSONAGE.</a><br>
+<a href="#V">V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.</a><br>
+<a href="#VI">VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.</a><br>
+<a href="#VII">VII. A SECOND DISASTER.</a><br>
+<a href="#VIII">VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.</a><br>
+<a href="#IX">IX. KILLING TIME.</a><br>
+<a href="#X">X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.</a><br>
+<a href="#XI">XI. FORT WILLIS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XII">XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIII">XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XIV">XIV. OUT OF SORTS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XV">XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVI">XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVII">XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.</a><br>
+<a href="#XIX">XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XX">XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXI">XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXII">XXII. COMPANY H.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIII">XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIV">XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXV">XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVI">XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVII">XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIX">XXIX. FOREBODINGS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXX">XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXI">XXXI. GLOOM.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXII">XXXII. NIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIII">XXXIII. HELL.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIV">XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXV">XXXV. AWAKENINGS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVI">XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVII. A DOUBLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVIII. IDENTITY.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIX">XXXIX. REPARATION.</a><br>
+<a href="#XL">XL. CONCLUSION.</a></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>MAPS</h2>
+<center><a href="#033.png">1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS
+MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#186.png">2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.</a><br>
+<a href="#326.png">3. VIRGINIA.</a><br>
+<a href="#367.png">4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN
+MUSKET.</a></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+<center>"I'll note you in my book of
+memory."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I
+say malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition
+had never been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my
+father's opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five
+years old, to lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory
+entirely, but my ability to recall the events and the mental
+impressions of a recent period. The physicians had agreed that the
+trouble would pass away, but it had been repeated more than once.
+At the age of ten, when occurred the first attack which I remember,
+I was at school in my native New England village. One very cold day
+I was running home after school, when my foot slipped on a frozen
+pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great pain, and was
+almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I saw around
+me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast table
+to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too heavy,
+with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly
+changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took
+me home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions
+which I could not understand.</p>
+<p>Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He
+inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher,
+about the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me,
+and I answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an
+interval of more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried
+to learn whether there remained in my mind any effect of my studies
+during the past term. The result was surprising. He found that as
+to actual knowledge my mind retained the power developed by its
+exercise,--without, however, holding all details of fact,--but
+that, in everything not positive, my experience seemed to have been
+utterly lost. I knew my multiplication table thoroughly; I had
+acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I could write correctly,
+and my ability to read was not lessened. But when questions
+concerning historical events, either general or local, were asked,
+my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned for
+the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on
+the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and
+against the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on
+the previous day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy
+boy.</p>
+<p>Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last
+period of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images,
+while the time preceding that period was as nothing to me. My
+little sister had died when I was six years old; I did not know
+that she had ever lived; her name, even, was strange to me.</p>
+<p>After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my
+own opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was
+not, however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the
+doctors' deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to
+take me to the South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the
+fact that my father had landed interests in South Carolina. At any
+rate, my father soon took me to Charleston, where I was again put
+to school. Doubtless I was thus relieved of much annoyance, as my
+new schoolmates received me without showing the curiosity which
+would have irritated me in my own village.</p>
+<p>More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned
+to me. The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a
+group of boys were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto
+regiment had distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say,
+"Yes, your Uncle Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best
+in the army." I felt a glow of pride at this praise of my
+people--as I supposed it to be. More talk followed, however, in
+which it became clear that the boys were not speaking of Franklin
+Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was greatly puzzled.</p>
+<p>A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M.
+Butler, the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had
+fallen on the field of Churubusco.</p>
+<p>Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been
+disturbed by this event, but I know that from this time I began to
+collect, vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life;
+so that, when my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had
+entirely recovered my lost memory. I even knew everything that had
+happened in the recent interval, so that my consciousness held an
+uninterrupted chain of all past events of importance. And now I
+realized with wonder one of the marvellous compensations of nature.
+My brain reproduced form, size, colour--any quality of a material
+thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly that the actual object seemed
+present to my senses, while I could feel dimly, what I now know
+more thoroughly, that my memory during the interval had operated
+weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so called--questions of
+doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which there might well be
+more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind. Although I have
+truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind began its
+recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first step
+was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some
+difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto
+regiment acquired the greater glory.</p>
+<p>My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my
+summers were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became
+dissatisfied with my progress, and decided that I should return to
+the South for the winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no
+recurrence of my mental peculiarity he would thereafter put me in
+the hands of a private tutor who should prepare me for college.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health
+was sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and
+gained a reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert
+especially in climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were,
+nevertheless, considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that
+the anxiety shown by my father for my health influenced me
+somewhat; moreover, I had a natural bent toward bodily rather than
+mental exercise.</p>
+<p>The feature most attractive to me in school work was the
+debating class. As a sort of <i>ex-officio</i> president of this
+club, was one of our tutors, whom none of the boys seemed greatly
+to like. He was called Professor Khayme--pronounced Ki-me.
+Sometimes the principal addressed him as Doctor. He certainly was a
+very learned and intelligent man; for although the boys had him in
+dislike, there were yet many evidences of the respect he commanded
+from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed, at various times, of
+different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty and fifty. He
+was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall, and was
+exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his
+countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed
+always complete self-control, if not indifference. He was
+dark--almost as dark as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the
+breadth and height of his forehead were almost a deformity. He had
+no beard, and yet I feel sure that he never used a razor. I rarely
+saw him off duty without a peculiar black pipe in his mouth, which
+he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the smoke at very long
+intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent schoolmates
+that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through his
+skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated
+the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.</p>
+<p>Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to
+which were admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my
+dying day I shall remember one of these occasions. The debate, so
+celebrated, between the great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster
+was the feature of the entertainment. Behind the curtain sat
+Professor Khayme, prompter and general manager. A boy with mighty
+lungs and violent gesticulation recited an abridgment of Hayne's
+speech, beginning:--</p>
+<br>
+<blockquote>"If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and
+I say it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison
+with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating
+devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina."</blockquote>
+<p>Great applause followed. These were times of sectional
+compromise. I also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting
+influence of Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for
+harmony between the sections. The majority of thinking people
+considered true patriotism to concist in patience and charity each
+to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but
+few Southerners had read it or would read it. I also applauded.</p>
+<p>Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced
+that the next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to
+Hayne,' to be recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master
+Jones Berwick."</p>
+<p>I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me
+that I was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt
+an impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the
+boys all over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped
+loudly. Then the professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and
+his voice was by far his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master
+Berwick had not been originally selected to recite, but that the
+young orator chosen the duty had been called away unexpectedly, and
+that it was well known that Master Berwick, being a compatriot of
+the great Webster, and being not only thoroughly competent to
+declaim the abridged form of the speech in question, but also in
+politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator, could serve with
+facility in the stead of the absentee, and would certainly sustain
+the reputation of the club.</p>
+<p>How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I
+know not what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech
+recited, but not recently, and I could not see my way through.</p>
+<p>I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said
+to me, in a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I
+pledge you my word as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to
+this light." Then he seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few
+soft finger-touches, and I remembered no more until I found myself
+on the rostrum listening to a perfect din of applause that covered
+the close of my speech. If there were any fire-eaters in the
+audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an knew how to be polite,
+even to a fault.</p>
+<p>I could not understand my success: I had vague inward
+inclination that it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have
+departed for the time. I felt that some wonderful change had been
+wrought in me, and, youngster though I was, I was amazed to think
+what might be the possibilities of the mind.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor
+Khayme, but as he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as
+oratory, it was impossible that we should not meet. In class he was
+reserved and confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone
+or look varying his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though
+his outward gravity and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that
+he influenced me by a power which no other man exerted over me.</p>
+<p>One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just
+crossed Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder,
+and, turning, I saw Doctor Khayme.</p>
+<p>"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have
+from your father a letter in relation to your health. He says that
+he is uneasy about you."</p>
+<p>"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason
+to be worried."</p>
+<p>"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the
+Doctor.</p>
+<p>Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I
+am glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do <i>you</i> think
+I am wrong in health?"</p>
+<p>"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for
+you to see the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany
+me to my lodging, I will show it to you."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of
+the side streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines
+clambered over the porch and were trained so that they almost hid
+the windows. An old woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and
+everything that a general servant may be, opened to his knock.</p>
+<p>"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to
+my thought.</p>
+<p>I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The
+windows looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front
+of the grate, where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For
+the rest, there was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old
+bookcase in a corner seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes
+in antique covers, A writing-table, littered and piled with papers,
+was in the middle of the room, and there were a few easy-chairs,
+into one of which the Doctor motioned me.</p>
+<p>Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took
+
+down a pipe with a long stem,
+and began to stuff the bowl with tobacco which I saw was very
+black; while he was doing so, I recognized on the pipe the carven
+image of an idol.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."</p>
+<p>I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he
+meant.</p>
+<p>He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and
+handed it to me. I read:--</p>
+<blockquote>"MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to
+you. My son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great
+uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above the
+average--you will have already discovered this; but I wish to say
+that his mind has passed through strange experiences and that
+possibly he must--though God forbid--go through more of such. A
+friend of mine has convinced me that you can help my boy.<br>
+<br>
+Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."</blockquote>
+<p>When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was
+strange, especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor
+and offered the letter to him.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."</p>
+<p>I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat
+with the amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes
+were turned from me.</p>
+<p>He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning
+toward me, and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said
+very slowly, "I do not think it advisable to ask you to tell me
+what the mental experiences are to which your father alludes; it
+may be best that you should not speak of them; it may be best that
+you should not think of them. I am sure that I can help you; I am
+sure that your telling me your history could not cause me to help
+you more."</p>
+<p>I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and
+sweet. I could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed
+fixed on me, but I felt that he was looking through me at something
+beyond.</p>
+<p>Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your
+will. I can help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have
+great will-power also, but you have not cultivated that power. This
+is a critical time in your life. You are becoming a man. You must
+use your will. I can help you by making you see that you <i>can</i>
+use your will, and that the will is very powerful--that <i>your</i>
+will is very powerful. He who has confidence in his own will-power
+will exert it. I can help you to have confidence. But I cannot
+exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I shall
+give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little your
+present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
+doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and
+against to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty
+in choosing for or against. You are just in that condition. You
+have feared and mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are
+leaving you, and curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not
+bid you to make an effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to
+determine now whether you will struggle against weakness or submit
+to it; whether you will begin to use your sleeping will-power or
+else continue to accept what comes."</p>
+<p>I rose to my feet at once.</p>
+<p>"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first
+smile I had ever seen on his face.</p>
+<p>"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually
+learned more and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter
+told me much, that I could never have guessed. She was a very
+serious child, perhaps of eleven years, and not very attractive. In
+fact, she was ugly, but her gravity seemed somehow to suit her so
+well that I could by no means dislike her. Her father was very fond
+of her; of an evening the three of us would sit in the west room;
+the Doctor would smoke and read; I would read some special
+matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my tutor; Lydia would
+sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and absorbed
+seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some words
+which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the
+seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the
+natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way.
+I was not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of
+the household, and never thought of asking for information that
+seemed withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when
+the Doctor would be absent from the room, that they were
+foreigners,--a fact which. I had already taken for granted,--but I
+was never made to know the land of their birth. It was certain that
+Dr. Khayme could speak German and French, and I could frequently
+see him reading in books printed in characters unknown to me.
+Several times I have happened to come unexpectedly into the
+presence of the father and daughter when they were conversing in a
+tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor had no
+companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from
+the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at
+the cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from
+remarks dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she
+had, that her studies were the languages in the main, and I had
+strong evidence that, young as she was, her proficiency in French
+and German far exceeded my own acquirements.</p>
+<p>By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in
+what we would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for
+the experience I am now writing down embraces the winters of five
+or six years. Most of the books that composed his library were
+abstruse treatises on metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I
+believe that in his collection could have been found the Bible of
+every religious faith. Sometimes he would read aloud a passage in
+the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a manuscript copy interleaved
+with annotations in his own delicate handwriting.</p>
+<p>He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested
+in the political condition of every civilized nation. The future of
+the human race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much
+thought. I have heard him more than once declare, with emphasis,
+that the outlook for the advancement of America was not auspicious.
+In regard to the sectional discord in the United States, he showed
+a strange unconcern. I knew that he believed it a matter of
+indifference whether secession, of which we were beginning again to
+hear some mutterings, was a constitutional right; but on the
+question of slavery his interest was intense. He believed that
+slavery could not endure, let secession be attempted or abandoned,
+let secession fail or succeed.</p>
+<p>In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had
+interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the
+intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much
+reason to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my
+father about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long
+time, in fact, the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when
+it did come I decided that, since my father had not mentioned the
+matter, it was not for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.</p>
+<p>My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my
+life in the South had given way to his fears, and that I was to
+continue to spend my winters in Charleston. In after years I
+learned that Dr. Khayme had not thought my condition exempt from
+danger.</p>
+<p>So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57,
+without recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my
+father and the physicians agreed that my migrations should cease,
+and I entered college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I
+expressed great regret on account of our separation, but I received
+no reply.</p>
+<p>On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly,
+even without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered
+lapse of memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable
+exactness, all the time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr.
+Khayme.</p>
+<p>Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was
+induced to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that
+had happened since the last day I spent there, and he was,
+moreover, very anxious to meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our
+arrival in Charleston, however, that the Doctor and his daughter
+had sailed for Liverpool early in September. My father and I
+travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my memory was
+completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts, leaving me
+in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until August,
+1860.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on
+Sumter, was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire
+to enter the army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he
+doubted the effect of military life upon my mental nature. Our
+family physician, however, was upon my side, and contended, with
+what good reason I did not know, that the active life of war would
+be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so my father ceased to
+oppose, and I enlisted.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>WHO GOES THERE?</h2>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2>
+<h3>THE ADVANCE</h3>
+<center>"Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst
+arm."--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It
+was July 16, 1861.</p>
+<p>The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."</p>
+<p>I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
+understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
+orders, except two things:--</p>
+<p>First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.</p>
+<p>Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun
+burnt our faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down
+hill, up hill and down hill, we marched for an hour, west and
+southwest.</p>
+<p>We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens.
+The city could no longer he seen.</p>
+<p>Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired
+sergeant--a favourite with the men.</p>
+<p>I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.</p>
+<p>"Miles's division," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"What is on our left?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+<p>"We are the left," says Willis.</p>
+<p>The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible
+views.</p>
+<p>The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short
+sword saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the
+colonel at the head of the regiment. The captain returned to his
+post:--</p>
+<p>"<i>Comp-a-ny</i>--B ... ATTENTION!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p>
+<p>"LOAD!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>R-i-i-i-i-ght</i> ... FACE!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Fah</i>--<i>w-u-u-u-d</i> ... MOTCH!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Fi--lef</i> ... MOTCH!"</p>
+<p>Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.</p>
+<p>The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.</p>
+<p>Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I
+could see some black spots in a stubble-field.</p>
+<p>"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Any rebels out that way?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.</p>
+<p>Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few
+miles had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from
+four to four; great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by
+our columns advancing on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the
+sun directly in our faces. This little peaked infantry cap is a
+damnable outrage. The straps across my shoulders seemed to cut my
+flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My canteen was soon dry.
+The men were no longer erect as on dress parade. Each one bent
+over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no heavy
+cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was
+using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the
+sergeants. My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.</p>
+<p>Another halt; a new detail for water.</p>
+<p>The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the
+darkness. A hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a
+mile and a halt of half an hour; an exasperating march. At two
+o'clock in the morning we were permitted to break ranks. I was too
+tired to sleep. Where we were I knew not, and I know not--somewhere
+in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis, who was near me, lying on his
+blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow, said that we were the left
+of McDowell's army; that the centre and right extended for miles;
+that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax Court-House at
+this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he would wake
+up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Before the light we were aroused by the reveill&eacute;.</p>
+<p>The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for
+many hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward
+to relieve the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred
+yards of a feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost
+parallel with our skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but
+trees. Beyond the stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men
+of the company were in position, but at ease. The division was half
+a mile in our rear.</p>
+<p>I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the
+blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to
+think of my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few
+yards away; he was in the act of lighting his pipe.</p>
+<p>"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.</p>
+<p>"What's what?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"</p>
+<p>At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a
+low rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again
+the distant cannon was heard.</p>
+<p>About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from
+Washington were in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war
+correspondent had outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the
+campaign. Basing his prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he
+knew something of the nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the
+public was informed that Heintzelman's division would swing far to
+the left until the rear of Beauregard's right flank was reached; at
+the same time Miles and Hunter would seize Fairfax Court-House, and
+threaten the enemy's centre and left, and would seriously attack
+when Heintzelman should give the signal. Thus, rolled up from the
+right, and engaged everywhere else, the enemy's defeat was
+inevitable.</p>
+<p>The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a
+little when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was
+beginning to be afraid that his plans were endangered.</p>
+<p>"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax
+Court-House," said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means
+that our troops have been delayed. Beauregard is awake."</p>
+<p>Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was
+my first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We
+readied a spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be
+seen. He was facing us, instead of his front. The poor
+fellow--Johnson, of our company--had, been on post for two mortal
+hours, and was more concerned about the relief in his rear than
+about the enemy that might not be in his front. The sergeant halted
+within a few paces of the vedette, while I received instructions. I
+was to ascertain from the sentinel any peculiarity of his post and
+the general condition, existing in his front, and then, dismiss him
+to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could tell me nothing. He had
+seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and I was alone.</p>
+<p>The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to
+enable one to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was
+invisible. Night was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A
+thousand insects were cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed
+concert welcomed the twilight. A gentle breeze swayed the branches
+of the tree above me. Far away--to right or left, I know not--a
+cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The wind died away.</p>
+<p>I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.</p>
+<p>I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the
+first time the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but
+natural to be nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided
+that I was not nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in
+the swamp sounded but familiar and appropriate.</p>
+<p>That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was
+certain unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of
+wars and battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I
+wondered whether the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew
+they would fight; I had lived among those misguided people.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2>
+<h3>A SHAMEFUL DAY</h3>
+<center>'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs
+betimes."--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>"<i>Fall in, men! Fall in Company D</i>!"</p>
+<p>It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.</p>
+<p>We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a
+constant state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed
+reconnaissance on Bull Run had brought more than our generals had
+counted on; we had heard the combat, but had taken no part in it.
+Now the attack by the left had been abandoned.</p>
+<p>The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying
+to get rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations
+in our haversacks.</p>
+<p>At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road
+for Centreville.</p>
+<p>Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody
+took the trouble to assent or deny.</p>
+<p>At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay
+down--in the road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet
+and moved about impatiently.</p>
+<p>An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and
+we must wait till the way was clear.</p>
+<p>Little noise was made by the column marching on the road
+intersecting ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in
+general the men were silent, going forward with rapid strides, or
+standing stock still when brought to an abrupt halt whenever the
+head of the column struck an obstacle.</p>
+<p>I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was
+nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two
+hours high.</p>
+<p>Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the
+dust. In ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no
+command, except the everlasting "Close up! close up!"</p>
+<p>Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a
+neighbourhood road; ... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so
+much dust now, but the sun getting hotter and hotter, and hotter
+and hotter getting our thirst.</p>
+<p>And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!</p>
+<p>Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear
+it? The cannon roar in the valley below us.</p>
+<p>Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
+ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at
+double-quick; the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our
+front.</p>
+<p>What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and
+fire.</p>
+<p>See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red
+blood streams from his head!</p>
+<p>What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the
+hill. Why should they die?</p>
+<p>Ah, me! ah, me!</p>
+<p>The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander
+rides to its front:</p>
+<p>
+"<i>Colour</i>--<i>bearer</i>--<i>twelve</i>--<i>paces</i>--<i>to
+the front</i>--MARCH!
+<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>pre-sent</i>--ARMS!"</p>
+<p>Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and
+cries, DIES BY IT!</p>
+<p>A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces
+are white as death.</p>
+<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>fix</i>--BAYONETS!</p>
+<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--<i>guide centre</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt
+and re-form.</p>
+<p>We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly
+with a dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique
+is a battery; ... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and
+the horses and the men; they load and fire, load and fire.</p>
+<p>A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls
+... rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.</p>
+<p>Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air?
+Thop! Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his
+height is lost.</p>
+<p>And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the
+battery has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long
+line of men come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns.
+The men of the battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the
+captured pieces.</p>
+<p>Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise
+and look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no
+music, no drum ... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel
+behind the centre, dismounted,--the men march on; quick time,
+right-shoulder-shift; the fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the
+regiment always marching on. The rebels at the battery are not in
+line; some try to drag away the guns; swords flash in the hot sun;
+... the rebels re-form; ... they lie down; ... and now the regiment
+is at double-quick with trailed arms; ... the rebel line rises and
+delivers its fire.</p>
+<p>The smoke swallows everything.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold
+the battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing
+rebels; and now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the
+regiment in disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and
+rushes for the battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give
+way ... they run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ...
+and the cavalry ride from, the woods, and ride straight through our
+flying men and strike ... and many of the fugitives fire upon the
+horsemen, who in turn flee for their lives.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is
+smoke. Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows;
+crowds of wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ...
+the men madly lash the horses.</p>
+<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.</p>
+<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ...
+but we are moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks
+are thinning; elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a
+horrid impatience seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons
+... faster, faster ... I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my
+face--"<i>Surrender, you damned Yankee!</i>"</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="III"></a>III</h2>
+<h3>I BREAK MY MUSKET</h3>
+<center>"And, spite of spite, needs must I rest
+awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly
+mob ... I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.</p>
+<p>The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men
+had run beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each
+one for himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and
+brigades were intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to
+pursue us, many thousands of our men would have fallen into their
+hands.</p>
+<p>In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
+exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop
+and rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing
+in our rear had ceased.</p>
+<p>A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where
+is the company?"</p>
+<p>"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as
+quick as you can."</p>
+<p>"Tell me who is hurt," said I.</p>
+<p>But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to
+remain where I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as
+to my will, and by great effort resolved to rise and run.</p>
+<p>At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I
+heard my name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his
+hand, and heard him call me again. I went toward him. It was
+Willis; he was limping; his hat was gone; everything was gone; in
+fact, he was hardly able to march.</p>
+<p>"Where are you hit?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"The knee," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Bad?"</p>
+<p>"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain
+me as it did awhile ago."</p>
+<p>"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for
+men worse off than I am."</p>
+<p>Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some
+order, but the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken
+it into their heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us
+were packed between the high banks of the roadway which went down
+toward the creek. I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing
+since five o'clock in the morning.</p>
+<p>"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let
+the crowd scatter before we go on."</p>
+<p>"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow
+a mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any
+water in your canteen?"</p>
+<p>"Not a drop," said I.</p>
+<p>Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the
+troops at this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the
+hill, where the road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater
+space; some of them followed their leaders straight ahead on the
+road; others went to the right and left, seeking to avoid the
+crowd.</p>
+<p>"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.</p>
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+<p>"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."</p>
+<p>"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and
+I can stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."</p>
+<p>He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely
+too, although, at every step he groaned with pain.</p>
+<p>I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just
+a little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will
+was good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He
+was a strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a
+bullock. So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to
+a wounded comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him,
+especially since he showed such determination to save himself.
+Besides, I knew that he was quick-witted and country-bred; and I
+had great hope that he would prove more of a help than a
+hindrance.</p>
+<p>We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now
+running up the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow,
+but the banks were high, and in most places steep. Men were
+crossing at almost all points. Slowly following the hurrying groups
+of twos and threes who had outstripped us, we found at length, a
+place that seemed fordable for Willis. It was where a small branch
+emptied into the creek; and by getting into the branch, above its
+mouth, and following its course, we should be able to cross the
+creek.</p>
+<p>"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have
+muddied the branch; it's as bad as the creek."</p>
+<p>"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "it would make us sick."</p>
+<p>"But what else can we do?"</p>
+<p>"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.</p>
+<p>All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
+shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I
+hoped that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good
+than harm--that time would be saved, in effect.</p>
+<p>A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the
+water clear. I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it,
+and food. Willis lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled
+my canteen; I handed it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and
+drank.</p>
+<p>The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we
+might have remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant
+poplar had been uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall
+an opening in, the undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook,
+and the boughs, intermingling with the copse, made a complete
+hiding-place.</p>
+<p>I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at
+our backs and completely screened from view.</p>
+<p>Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the
+canteen again, and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much
+swollen; just under the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this
+I washed away, using all the gentle care at my command, but giving
+him, nevertheless, great pain. A small round hole was now sean, and
+by gently pressing on its walls, I thought I detected the presence
+of the ball.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more
+than half an inch, deep."</p>
+<p>"Then pull it out," said Willis,</p>
+<p>That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on
+his back, eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my
+mouth with hardtack and pork.</p>
+<p>I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an
+obstacle was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so
+small that I conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot,
+the rebels using, as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded
+with buck-and-ball cartridges.</p>
+<p>"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job;
+suppose I get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for
+you? Maybe you'd lose too much blood."</p>
+<p>"I want it out," said Willis.</p>
+<p>"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no
+good. Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my
+business is to let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."</p>
+<p>"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."</p>
+<p>The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.</p>
+<p>"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything
+of that kind."</p>
+<p>"You refuse?"</p>
+<p>"I positively refuse," said I.</p>
+<p>We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low
+rumbling was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon
+train.</p>
+<p>Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and
+kneaded some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my
+shirt, and tore it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened
+out, I applied a handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I
+wrapped the cloths around the knee, at every fold smearing the
+bandage with clay. I hardly knew why I did this, unless with the
+purpose of keeping the knee-joint from bending; when the clay
+should become dry and hard the joint would be incased in a stiff
+setting which I hoped would serve for splints. Willis approved the
+treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains, and might be good
+for wounds.</p>
+<p>I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could
+hardly move.</p>
+<p>"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."</p>
+<p>He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft
+earth; after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better
+without it." Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his
+weight.</p>
+<p>I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the
+stock of which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters
+J. B. I broke the stock with one blow of the barrel against the
+poplar log.</p>
+<p>I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our
+way through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our
+knees and seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the
+further bank was achieved, but with great difficulty.</p>
+<a name="033.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/033.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<b>BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861.</b></p>
+<p>We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling.
+We saw no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much
+and painful toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day
+showed us a small field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his
+blanched face showing his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.</p>
+<p>It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more,
+and I decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the
+field I had seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them.
+At the bottom of the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The
+work took but a minute. Willis was looking on dully; he was on the
+bare ground, utterly done for with pain and weariness. At length,
+he asked, "What's that for?"</p>
+<p>"For you," I replied.</p>
+<p>He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at
+the same time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and
+pulled the overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually
+to conceal him from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and
+haversack and placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my
+throat, I bade him good-by.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "God bless you."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to
+return and get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get
+help, I will come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow
+you do not see me, you must act for the best. It may become
+necessary for you to show yourself and surrender, in order to get
+your wound properly treated; all this country will be ransacked by
+the rebel cavalry before to-morrow night."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God
+bless you, Jones."</p>
+<p>Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road
+which we had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road
+a mile or more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick
+clouds gave warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the
+same circuitous road by which we had advanced in the morning--was
+not to take the nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the
+Warrenton turnpike, but all I knew was that it was somewhere to my
+right. I determined to make my way as rapidly as I could in that
+direction through the fields and thickets.</p>
+<p>For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake,
+when suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went
+cautiously in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.</p>
+<p>By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined
+against the sky.</p>
+<p>I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness
+rattling; still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it
+was a wagon, was toward me.</p>
+<p>I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no
+need for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private
+carriage; it certainly is not an army wagon."</p>
+<p>I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and
+had opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice
+which I had heard before, and which, stupefied me with
+astonishment.</p>
+<p>"Is that you, Jones?"</p>
+<p>I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my
+supposition must be impossible.</p>
+<p>A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in
+his mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt
+as though in the presence of a miracle.</p>
+<p>"I have been seeking you," he said.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+<h3>A PERSONAGE</h3>
+<center>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I cannot tell<br>
+What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye<br>
+Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think.
+The happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat
+of the Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted,
+despairing, heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded
+friend, still far from safety myself, with no physical desire
+remaining except the wish to lie down and be at rest forever, and
+with no moral feeling in my consciousness except that of
+shame,--which will forever rise uppermost in me when I think of
+that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by the man whom I
+held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had believed, was
+never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the verge of
+the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the
+d&eacute;bris of the rout, while groping, as it were, on my lone
+way to security scarcely hoped for--it was too much; I sank down on
+the road.</p>
+<p>How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few
+moments.</p>
+<p>The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said
+he; "you are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with
+us."</p>
+<p>Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me
+the flask of brandy."</p>
+<p>When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before
+him.</p>
+<p>"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must
+get Willis."</p>
+<p>"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed,
+from the direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had
+reached the field hospital. Where is Willis now?"</p>
+<p>I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were
+in the stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily
+alarmed on hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name;
+then, hearing no answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is
+Jones, with help!" But there was no response.</p>
+<p>We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get
+him awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him
+up bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the
+vehicle.</p>
+<p>And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back
+and slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it
+was six in the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the
+midst of a driving rain. There were two seats in the ambulance,
+besides a double-deck, that is to say, two floors for wounded to
+lie upon. I scrambled to the rear seat.</p>
+<p>We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was
+crowded. There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on
+horseback or in carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers
+single and in groups swelled the procession, some of them with
+their arms in slings; how they had achieved the long night march I
+cannot yet comprehend.</p>
+<p>Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open,
+but he was awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.</p>
+<p>Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded
+sleepily, although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary,
+looked fresh and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I
+could almost have believed that he had become younger than he had
+been when I parted with him in Charleston, more than three years
+before. He knew that I was observing him, for he said, without
+turning his face toward me, "You have not slept well, Jones; but
+you did not know when we stopped at Fairfax; we rested the horses
+there for an hour."</p>
+<p>"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully
+down."</p>
+<p>"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.</p>
+<p>"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of
+the country?"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I did not reply at once.</p>
+<p>"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the
+people of the United States, including those of the seceded States?
+Do you mean the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes
+American civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult
+matters now. We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and
+then arrange for your comfort."</p>
+<p>"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my
+devouring curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on
+the battlefield."</p>
+<p>"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you
+there is no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately,
+as an agent of the United States Sanitary Commission."</p>
+<p>"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you
+felt no interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in
+Charleston in 'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe.
+And then, too, how could you know that I was on such a part of the
+battlefield, and that Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"</p>
+<p>"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
+afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being
+in America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer
+all talk of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with
+Sergeant Willis, and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men
+of your regiment gave me that information."</p>
+<p>I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the
+miscellaneous file of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else
+that was now blocked on the bridge,</p>
+<p>At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily
+find the place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a
+mile from the spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am
+certain that I could not have found the place."</p>
+<p>"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively
+easy for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all
+day to help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason
+that he knows every nook and corner of that part of the
+country."</p>
+<p>After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia
+College Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before
+learning that his wound was not difficult.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will
+see to it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take
+that time to set you right, especially as I can see that you have
+some traces of nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent
+your becoming ill."</p>
+<p>"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody
+authorized to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own;
+by to-morrow all the routed troops will be in or near Washington;
+then I shall simply write a note, if you insist upon it, to the
+commanding officer of your company, explaining Willis's absence and
+your connection with his case, and take on myself the
+responsibility for your return to your command."</p>
+<p>"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
+accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"</p>
+<p>"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor;
+"some of your men will not report to their commands for a week. You
+will be ready for your company before your company is ready for
+you."</p>
+<p>"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all
+military requirement."</p>
+<p>He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his
+hand.</p>
+<p>"Well, what do you think of this?"</p>
+<p>It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company
+and regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for
+ten days. I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his
+kindness.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the
+best of quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized
+that we have not yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our
+affairs; in fact, my work yesterday was rather the work of a
+volunteer than the work of the Commission. Our tents are now beyond
+Georgetown Heights; in a few days we shall move our camps, and
+shall increase our comfort."</p>
+<p>The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets.
+The sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and
+soldiers; wagons, guns, caissons, ambulances; companies,
+spick-and-span, which, had not yet seen service; ones, twos,
+threes, squads of men who had escaped from the disaster of the
+21st, unarmed, many of them, without knapsacks, haggard.</p>
+<p>At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind
+which stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished
+fugitives. The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians
+looked their anxiety. A general officer rode by, surrounded by the
+remnant of his staff, heads bent down, gloomy. Women wept while
+serving the hungry. The unfinished dome of the Capitol, hardly seen
+through the rain, loomed ominous. Depression over all: ambulances
+full of wounded men, tossing and groaning; fagged-out horses,
+vehicles splashed with mud; policemen dazed, idle; newsboys crying
+their merchandise; readers eagerly reading--not to know the result
+to the army, but the fate of some loved one; stores closed;
+whispers; doom.</p>
+<p>I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he
+got out of the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman
+gave him coffee, which he brought to me, and made me drink. He
+returned to the table and gave back the cup. The woman looked
+toward the ambulance. She was a tall young woman, serious,
+dignified. She impressed me.</p>
+<p>We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were
+four wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The
+ambulance stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of
+the tents; he pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours,"
+said he; "go to sleep; you shall not be disturbed."</p>
+<p>"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+<p>"My mind will not let me."</p>
+<p>"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you
+are getting on."</p>
+<p>I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed,
+pulling a sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.</p>
+<p>I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the
+First Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the
+woods. I saw the rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar
+log in a thicket;--a purple wound--wet clay;--a broken
+rifle;--stacks of straw.</p>
+<p>Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me?
+for the cause? What is to defend Washington?</p>
+<p>Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would
+be anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I
+rose.</p>
+<p>"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so
+overwhelmed by this great calamity that I had not thought of
+telegraphing to my father. Can you get a messenger here?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing
+that you are safe."</p>
+<p>"You?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to
+sleep; by the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your
+father."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can
+sleep."</p>
+<p>"Let me feel your pulse."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the
+side of the bed.</p>
+<p>"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse,
+he said softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder
+that you are wrought up."</p>
+<p>He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through
+my hair.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="V"></a>V</h2>
+<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP</h3>
+<center>"Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,<br>
+But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."<br>
+<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the
+afternoon of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept
+dreamlessly.</p>
+<p>On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I
+hastily tore it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe.
+Continue to do your duty." My heart swelled,</p>
+<p>I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under
+a tree, near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an
+awning, or fly, beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a
+woman was sitting in a chair, reading. I thought I had seen her
+before, and looking more closely I recognized the woman who had
+given the Doctor a cup of coffee on Pennsylvania Avenue.</p>
+<p>The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have
+rested well," said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."</p>
+<p>I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that
+I was not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation
+of the young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was
+shame that I had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about
+her.</p>
+<p>"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with,
+a smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying
+out "Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you
+have had nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked
+yourself while bandaging--"</p>
+<p>"What do you know about that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As
+for Lydia and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and
+you must not expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to,
+my boy. I know that you have eaten nothing to-day."</p>
+<p>There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I
+did not wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the
+talks of my friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat
+merely for the purpose of keeping me in countenance.</p>
+<p>"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is
+not four years since we saw him."</p>
+<p>These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had
+left her a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was
+a woman of fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not
+resemble her father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast
+of feature. Her dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his
+straight black hair; her eyes were not his; her stature was greater
+than his. Yet there were points of resemblance. Her manner was
+certainly very like the Doctor's, and many times a fleeting
+expression was identical with, the Doctor's habitually perfect
+repose.</p>
+<p>She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot
+remember anything of her dress. I only know that it was
+unpretentious and charming.</p>
+<p>Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to
+indicate great intelligence; her complexion was between dark and
+fair, and betokened health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little
+large perhaps. She had an air of seriousness--her only striking
+peculiarity. One might have charged her with masculinity, but in
+this respect only: she was far above the average woman in dignity
+of manner and in consciousness of attainment. She could talk
+seriously of men and things.</p>
+<p>I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could
+only manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that
+she had a great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly
+boy she had known in Charleston.</p>
+<p>She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my
+third cup of coffee.</p>
+<p>"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something
+about our life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three
+sentences."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can
+speak four."</p>
+<p>"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over
+you very carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the
+hospital surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your
+extinction."</p>
+<p>"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"</p>
+<p>"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not
+talkative, but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to
+sleep."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes
+shone. He did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at
+Lydia. For the time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her
+father's. I ate. I thanked my stars for the conversation that was
+covering my ignoble performance.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of
+Willis?"</p>
+<p>"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it
+was only a buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."</p>
+<p>"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full
+credit for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage
+you gave him."</p>
+<p>"Was it the correct practice?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but
+under the circumstances we must pardon you."</p>
+<p>"How long will the sergeant be down?"</p>
+<p>"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and
+his state of mind."</p>
+<p>"What's the matter with his mind?"</p>
+<p>"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western
+world."</p>
+<p>I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head
+was the same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the
+tents.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday
+will prove to be the crisis of the war."</p>
+<p>"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South
+will win?"</p>
+<p>"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter
+which side shall win?"</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are a strange man!"</p>
+<p>"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the
+point. I ask what difference it would make whether the North or
+South should succeed."</p>
+<p>"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably?
+What are we doing here?"</p>
+<p>"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always
+wrong; going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted
+policy; every wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."</p>
+<p>"Even when war is forced upon us?"</p>
+<p>"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make
+war; if one refuses, the other cannot make war."</p>
+<p>"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to
+war on the whole; but what was left for the North to do?
+Acknowledge the right of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the
+loss of all Federal property in the Southern States? Tamely endure
+without resentment the attack on Sumter?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than
+that you resist."</p>
+<p>Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without
+ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you
+good night."</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you
+must know that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to
+the Commission, and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is
+on duty to-night at the College Hospital. I think she will have her
+hands full."</p>
+<p>"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked,
+looking my admiration.</p>
+<p>"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can
+easily see him if you wish."</p>
+<p>"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see
+him--to-morrow, if possible."</p>
+<p>Lydia started off down the hill.</p>
+<p>"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it
+is but a short distance down there."</p>
+<p>The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was
+not new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war
+is wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent
+war? A nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I
+could not doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should
+now or ever see itself broken up, then farewell to American
+liberties; farewell to the hopes of peoples against despotism. To
+refuse war, to tamely allow the South to withdraw and set up a
+government of her own, would be but the beginning of the end; at
+the first grievance California, Massachusetts, any State, could and
+would become independent. No; war must come; the Union must be
+preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for my part, I
+could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war was
+forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice?
+War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down
+to-day, but Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is
+lost, but all is not lost.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to
+be the crisis of the war?"</p>
+<p>"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and
+will be well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a
+wholesome one. Your government now knows the enormous work it has
+to do. We shall now see preparation commensurate with the greatness
+of the work. Three months' volunteers are already a thing of the
+past. This war might have been avoided; all war might be avoided;
+but this war has not been avoided; America will be at war for years
+to come."</p>
+<p>I was silent.</p>
+<p>"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is
+ordered to report immediately in person to the war department."</p>
+<p>"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but
+what has McDowell done to deserve this?"</p>
+<p>"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general
+that fails finds it so; McClellan may find it so."</p>
+<p>"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look
+things squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan
+will fail. I think, however, that there will be many failures, and
+much injustice done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily
+tolerated--any injustice that will bring success; success is
+demanded--not justice. Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and
+brought failure; wholesale murder that brings success is what is
+demanded by this superstitious people."</p>
+<p>"Why do you say superstitious?"</p>
+<p>"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it
+changes; it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has
+what he calls a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he
+changes his policy, and very frequently changes just as the cards
+change to suit his former play. You are now changing to McClellan,
+simply because McDowell has had bad luck and McClellan good luck. I
+do not know that McClellan's good luck will continue. War and cards
+are alike, and they are unlike."</p>
+<p>"How alike and unlike?"</p>
+<p>"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the
+long run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also
+destroys chance, and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side
+loses less than the other. In games, the result of one play cannot
+be foretold; in war, the result of one battle cannot be foretold.
+In games and in war the general result can be foretold; in the one
+there will be a balance and in the other there will be destruction.
+Even the winner in war is ruined morally, just as is the
+gambler."</p>
+<p>"And can you foretell the result of this war?"</p>
+<p>"Conditionally."</p>
+<p>"How conditionally?"</p>
+<p>"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her
+people become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of
+her nominal success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must
+suffer largely, just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for
+the crime of yesterday."</p>
+<p>"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."</p>
+<p>"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but
+certainly useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove
+salutary for your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to
+war must learn from misfortune."</p>
+<p>"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a
+change in generals?"</p>
+<p>"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship,
+and that is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned.
+The advance should not have been made, but he was ordered to make
+it. We now know that Beauregard's army was re&euml;nforced by
+Johnston's; it was impossible not to see that it could be so
+re&euml;nforced, as the Confederates had the interior line. The
+real fault in the campaign is not McDowell's. His plan was
+scientific; his battle was better planned than was his
+antagonist's; he outgeneralled Beauregard clearly, and failed only
+because of a fact that is going to be impressed frequently upon the
+Northern mind in this war; that fact is that the Southern troops do
+not know when they are beaten. McDowell defeated Beauregard, so far
+as those two are concerned; but his army failed, and he must be
+sacrificed; the North ought, however, to sacrifice the army."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially
+unjust and narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you
+cannot do what you know to be just. You act under compulsion,
+having yielded your freedom. A losing general is sacrificed,
+regardless of his real merit."</p>
+<p>"Was it so in Washington's case?"</p>
+<p>"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been,
+defeated at Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed,
+the colonies had given up the struggle."</p>
+<p>"And independence would have been lost?"</p>
+<p>"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American
+independence."</p>
+<p>For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most
+of it, and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views
+of the immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He
+rose at last, and left me thinking of his strange personality and
+wondering why, holding such views, be should throw his energies
+into either side.</p>
+<p>He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He
+waited as I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said
+for answer, as if still thinking of our conversation:--</p>
+<p>"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine
+circumstances in which your peculiar powers of memory would
+accomplish more genuine good than could a thousand bayonets; good
+night."</p>
+<p>Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter.
+Then, I lay down, oppressed with thought.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+<h3>THE USES OF INFIRMITY</h3>
+<center>"There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live
+as before;<br>
+The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;<br>
+What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good
+more;<br>
+On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."<br>
+<br>
+--BROWNING.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The
+Doctor said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's
+house in Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request
+that I should come to see him.</p>
+<p>"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the
+Doctor, "and if you do not object I shall drive you down."</p>
+<p>On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of
+the capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia
+hills and was intrenching rapidly. Re&euml;nforcements were being
+hurried to Washington, and a new call for volunteers would at once
+be made. General McClellan would arrive in a few days; much was
+expected of his ability to create and discipline an army.</p>
+<p>"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr.
+Khayme; "it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have
+practically a leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure
+that rest will do you good. By the way, President Lincoln will
+visit the troops at Arlington to-day; if you like, I shall be glad
+to take you over."</p>
+<p>I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my
+desire to return to my post of duty as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions
+and then passed into the office.</p>
+<p>Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I
+should be a prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a
+friend, or when it is in his power to do you a service."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two.
+What shall I say to the boys for you?"</p>
+<p>"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already.
+The surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks
+at the outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"</p>
+<p>"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not
+seen their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a
+good many wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river,
+and I have not seen a man of the company except you. I am very
+anxious."</p>
+<p>"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it
+will be some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer
+man, Jones; I believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter
+who came in here last night?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."</p>
+<p>"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"</p>
+<p>"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment
+I thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should
+ever again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to
+Dr. Khayme once more about this matter. Although he had advised me
+in Charleston never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last
+night, referred to it himself.</p>
+<p>"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for
+you?"</p>
+<p>"No, I think not."</p>
+<p>"You are able to write your own letters?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."</p>
+<p>"Well, good-by."</p>
+<p>"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones.
+I'll be with the boys again before long."</p>
+<p>In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the
+Doctor and Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of
+her promise to tell me something about her life in the East.</p>
+<p>"Where shall I begin?" she asked,</p>
+<p>"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left
+Charleston."</p>
+<p>"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any
+thought of going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get
+ready for a long journey."</p>
+<p>"When was that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation,
+and a good while after you left."</p>
+<p>"It must have been in September, then."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you were very glad to go."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so
+suddenly that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that
+grieved me."</p>
+<p>"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"</p>
+<p>"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."</p>
+<p>"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; she died while we were in India."</p>
+<p>"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"</p>
+<p>"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to
+Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not
+more than an hour or two."</p>
+<p>"How long did you stay in Paris?"</p>
+<p>"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us
+for two or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for
+Bombay."</p>
+<p>"And so you were in India most of the time while you were
+abroad?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."</p>
+<p>"In Bombay?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the
+time."</p>
+<p>"Did you go to school?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," she said, smiling.</p>
+<p>Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the
+trees. I told him of my wish to return to my company.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.</p>
+<p>"I think I am fit for duty," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.</p>
+<p>"Then why are you reluctant?"</p>
+<p>"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a
+narrower risk than your condition now would show."</p>
+<p>"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"</p>
+<p>"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might;
+the weather is very warm."</p>
+<p>"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard
+on me."</p>
+<p>"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your
+depression has gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not
+oppose your going."</p>
+<p>I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do
+you remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think
+it advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of
+them?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied,</p>
+<p>"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar
+powers."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of
+them."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a
+recurrence of my trouble?"</p>
+<p>"I had at least suspected it."</p>
+<p>"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted.
+Then, with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything
+is relative; your memory, taking it generally, is better than that
+of some, and poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your
+peculiar periods, it is in some features far stronger than the
+average memory, and in other features it is weaker; have you not
+known this?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is
+definite, if it has been formed in a lapse."</p>
+<p>"But in respect to other matters than objects?"</p>
+<p>"You mean as to thought?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--speculation."</p>
+<p>"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation,
+that is, anything not an established fact."</p>
+<p>"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article
+written to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it
+in one of your 'states'?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said I.</p>
+<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question;
+would you remember it?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a
+seceded State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth
+of the controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your
+'states,' remember the discussion?"</p>
+<p>"No; certainly not."</p>
+<p>"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the
+period affected by your memory?"</p>
+<p>"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your
+'states,' toward unsettled questions."</p>
+<p>"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the
+other."</p>
+<p>"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed
+question?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an
+opinion upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it
+from new material, or repeated material, of thought."</p>
+<p>"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow
+you are in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw
+a conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when
+you have recovered the chain of your memory?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the
+fact that I had formerly decided the matter."</p>
+<p>"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made
+while in a lapse?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people
+call them, would still be undoubted?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you
+when you recover?"</p>
+<p>"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they
+were present."</p>
+<p>"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one
+period you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful
+you gain in intensity of fact?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one
+causes the gain of the other."</p>
+<p>"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your
+faculty is quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You
+know that the hearing of the blind is very acute."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good
+thing."</p>
+<p>"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater
+value than sight?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one
+who could see."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind
+nor deaf, nor am I a scout."</p>
+<p>"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value
+at one time than another."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a
+moment that there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout;
+I have merely instanced a possible case in which hearing is more
+valuable than sight, and we have agreed that memory is worth, more
+at times than at other times. I should like to relieve you,
+moreover, of any fears that you, may have in regard to the
+continuance of your infirmity--as you insist on thinking it. Cases
+like yours always recover."</p>
+<p>"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique,"
+said I; "but I thought he said it only to comfort me."</p>
+<p>"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have
+such cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer.
+Averroes himself clearly refers to such a case."</p>
+<p>"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the
+sound of his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well
+with, our people."</p>
+<p>"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your
+own prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by
+John on Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less
+wonderful than, yours."</p>
+<p>"They were miracles," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without
+waiting for me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and
+do happen every year to men's minds than this which has happened to
+yours; men lose their minds utterly for a time, and then recover
+their faculties entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men
+can be changed in an hour, by the use of a drug, into different
+creatures, if we are to judge by the record their own consciousness
+gives them."</p>
+<p>"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me
+without a drug and in a moment."</p>
+<p>"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic
+records which will forever relieve you of the belief that your
+condition is unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it
+which I hope will prove valuable; but as to its being the one only
+case of the general--"</p>
+<p>"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I
+interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell
+me why you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness
+of the condition at the same time. If the condition may prove
+useful, why change it?"</p>
+<p>"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously,
+"there are many things in nature which show their greatest worth
+only at the moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection
+of memory is, I repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in
+order that another function may be strengthened--and all for a
+purpose."</p>
+<p>"What is that purpose?"</p>
+<p>"I cannot tell you."</p>
+<p>"Why can you not?"</p>
+<p>"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the
+usefulness of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might
+say, in order to encourage you, that it will probably be given to
+you to serve your country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how
+and when, you must leave it to the future to show."</p>
+<p>"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my
+trouble?"</p>
+<p>"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my
+judgment, require that your recovery should follow the period
+concerning which your factitious memory is brightest."</p>
+<p>"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable
+way?" I said, wondering.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he.</p>
+<p>The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on
+duty this night. She had listened gravely to what had been said.
+Now she looked up with a faint smile, which I thought meant that
+she was willing for me to talk to her and yet reluctant to be the
+first to speak, not knowing whether I had need of silence. I had
+begun to have a high opinion of Lydia's character.</p>
+<p>"And you went to school in Bombay?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, at first."</p>
+<p>I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I
+suppose my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently
+continued.</p>
+<p>"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know
+that I am a nurse with some training. Father was very willing for
+me to become a nurse, for he said that there would be war in
+America, and that nurses would be needed."</p>
+<p>Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick
+asked me to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I
+was unable to tell him."</p>
+<p>"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the
+very day on which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not
+return to Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my
+affliction disturbed me so that I could not readily continue my
+part of the conversation, and Lydia soon retired.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report
+to my company."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience;
+I shall see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this
+part of the country for a long time, and it will not be difficult
+for you to get leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I
+am thinking of moving our camp nearer to you."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VII"></a>VII</h2>
+<h3>A SECOND DISASTER</h3>
+<center>"Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.<br>
+And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard,
+and picket duty and digging.</p>
+<p>The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's
+quarters were a mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent
+visitor at his tents. After Willis's return to duty, which was in
+November, he and I spent much of our spare time at the Sanitary
+camp. It was easy to see what attracted Jake. It did not seem to me
+that Dr. Khayme gave much thought to the sergeant, but Lydia
+gravely received his adoration silently offered, and so conducted
+herself in his presence that I was puzzled greatly concerning their
+relations. I frequently wondered why the sergeant did not confide
+in me; we had become very intimate, so that in everything, except
+his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom friend, so to
+speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.</p>
+<p>One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the
+Doctor's tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be
+with us. The Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation,
+however, at his pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I
+wondered if it could be because of Willis's absence. It seemed to
+me impossible that this dignified woman could entertain a passion
+for the sergeant, who, while of course a very manly fellow, and a
+thorough soldier in his way, surely was not on a level with Miss
+Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew and felt keenly that until my
+peculiar mental phases should leave me never to return, love and
+marriage were impossible--so the very truth was, and always had
+been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any incipient
+desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition
+encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own
+mind, and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated
+until--I suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern
+myself, I drew back from every obstacle which my judgment
+pronounced insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help
+to me in this development of the will, and especially in that phase
+or exercise of it called self-control; one of his common sayings
+was, "He who resists the inevitable increases evil."</p>
+<p>Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance,
+Dr. Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect
+to me, and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many
+times in our recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was
+the man's insight. The power that he exercised over me I submitted
+to gratefully; I felt that he was a man well fitted for counselling
+youth, and I had so many proofs of his good-will, even of his
+affection, that I trusted him fully in regard to myself; yet, with
+all this, I felt that his great knowledge, and especially his
+wonderful alertness of judgment, which amounted in many cases
+seemingly to prophetic power almost, were doubtful quantities in
+relation to the war. I believed that he was admitted to high
+council; I had frequent glimpses of intimations--seemingly
+unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand circumstances and
+projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow, from a look, or
+a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached the
+opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the
+contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety.
+The news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the
+heart of the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no
+distress, to judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it
+is but just to repeat that he showed great interest in every event
+directly relating to the existence of slavery. He commended the
+acts of General Butler in Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri,
+and hoped that the Southern leaders would impress all able-bodied
+slaves into some sort of service, so that they would become at
+least morally subject to the act of Congress, approved August 6,
+which declared all such persons discharged from previous servitude.
+In comparing my own attitude to the war with the Doctor's, I
+frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union, and I cared
+everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human slavery,
+while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that
+matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the
+Congress or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery
+without the consent of the party of the first part. I was in the
+war not on account of slavery, certainly, but on account of the
+preservation of the Union; Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he
+was in it at all--not for the Union, but for the abolition of
+slavery.</p>
+<p>On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and
+occasionally gave utterance to some thought.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West;
+Grant advances."</p>
+<p>"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my
+reply.</p>
+<p>"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has
+the help of the navy."</p>
+<p>"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove
+insufficient; if the North succeeds in this war, and I see no
+reason to doubt her success if she will but determine to succeed,
+it will be through her navy."</p>
+<p>I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat
+looking dreamily at the door of the stove.</p>
+<p>After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February
+is a spring month in the South."</p>
+<p>The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are
+bad."</p>
+<p>"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"</p>
+<p>"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he
+gets the help of the navy."</p>
+<p>"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"</p>
+<p>"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I had already heard some talk of differences between our general
+and the President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac
+to Fortress Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance
+on Richmond by the Peninsular route, as it was called.</p>
+<p>"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at
+least," he added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well
+convinced of it that I shall make preparation at once to remove my
+camp to some good place near Fort Monroe."</p>
+<p>This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress.
+What I should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not
+know; I should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my
+friends sadly.</p>
+<p>"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him
+and looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.</p>
+<p>"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe
+we can take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your
+regiment."</p>
+<p>Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I
+wished for a chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw
+none.</p>
+<p>"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I
+should like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of
+absence?"</p>
+<p>"Where there is a will there is a way."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I,
+gloomily.</p>
+<p>"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and
+to spare."</p>
+<p>"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"</p>
+<p>"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble,
+unless things change very greatly meanwhile."</p>
+<p>I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The
+weather was mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk
+somewhat carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled
+and fell, and bruised my back.</p>
+<p>The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely
+cold. A bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow
+and rain and sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating
+with four hours' relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six
+o'clock, when I was finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I
+reached my quarters, I went to bed at once and fell into a half
+sleep.</p>
+<p>Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me,
+with his hand on my temples.</p>
+<p>"You have had too much of it," said he.</p>
+<p>I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great
+pain followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.</p>
+<p>The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but
+dreaded that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being
+occupied by four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my
+messmates except Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The
+surgeon of the Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.</p>
+<p>For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every
+day--on some days several times. Lydia never came.</p>
+<p>One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a
+litter and borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My
+father came. This was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They
+became greatly attached.</p>
+<p>My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me
+whenever he was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to
+simple care, in which Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read
+to me at times--but for short times, as the Doctor forbade my
+prolonged attention, I was not quite sure that Lydia was doing me
+good; I liked the sound of her voice, yet when she would cease
+reading I felt more nervous than before, and I could not remember
+what she had read. So far as I could see, there was no
+understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that
+I saw them together.</p>
+<p>One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us
+that he would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good
+hands," said he, "and my business demands my care; I shall always
+have you in remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."</p>
+<p>The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with
+pillows and blankets.</p>
+<p>"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever
+since he received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has
+been my best friend."</p>
+<p>"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a
+letter," said my father.</p>
+<p>"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in
+which you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor
+gave me the letter; I have it at home, somewhere."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.</p>
+<p>Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and
+battles in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been
+kept from you. On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry,
+which success led ten days later to the surrender of Buckner's army
+at Fort Donelson."</p>
+<p>"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the
+last time I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked
+about Grant's coming successes!"</p>
+<p>"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the
+Doctor.</p>
+<p>"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he
+certainly would not fail."</p>
+<p>"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.</p>
+<p>On the day following that on which my father left us, I was
+sitting in a folding chair, trying to read for the first time since
+my illness began.</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my
+boy," said he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."</p>
+<p>"Go where, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"To Fort Monroe," said he.</p>
+<p>"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, we'll go."</p>
+<p>"What are we going there for?"</p>
+<p>"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"</p>
+<p>"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General
+McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort
+Monroe, and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I begin to remember."</p>
+<p>"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's
+urgent arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as
+transportation can be provided for such an operation; it will take
+weeks yet."</p>
+<p>"And you are going to move down there?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to
+go with me; don't you want to go?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; that I do," said I.</p>
+<p>"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said
+the Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready
+for duty by the time your regiment comes."</p>
+<p>Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on,
+but she came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was
+certainly pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were
+brighter. She began at once to get together some loose things,
+although we had several days in which to make our preparations. I
+could not keep from laughing at her; at the same time I felt that
+my amusement was caused by her willingness to get away for a time
+from the army, rather than by anything else.</p>
+<p>"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.</p>
+<p>"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have
+the habit of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry
+and fluster when the time comes." Her face was very bright.</p>
+<p>"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said
+I.</p>
+<p>She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to
+severity, and she went out.</p>
+<p>That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we
+were to go; he was very blank.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched
+near Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me.
+I sat outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the
+help of the Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat
+unwillingly--I walked a little. These were happy days; I had
+nothing to do but to convalesce. The Southern climate has always
+helped me. I was recovering fast.</p>
+<p>I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we
+talked of everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to
+both of us, though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with,
+his advanced thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its
+probable results.</p>
+<p>"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be
+preserved."</p>
+<p>I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though
+I had had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear
+this speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North,
+and I felt relieved.</p>
+<p>"Continue," I begged.</p>
+<p>"You know that I have said many times that the war is
+unnecessary; that all war is crime."</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a
+crime and must be suppressed."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."</p>
+<p>"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both
+these views are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime:
+these are two truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and
+say that the North is right and the South is right."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince
+me that both of these statements can be true."</p>
+<p>"Well, are you ready to listen?"</p>
+<p>"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are
+right? Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are
+speaking of crime, not virtue."</p>
+<p>"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are
+speaking; but in regard to the principles upon which they seem to
+differ, they are right, and these are what I wish to speak of."</p>
+<p>"Well, I listen, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power
+than General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."</p>
+<p>"Agreed."</p>
+<p>"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even
+eternal, purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the
+power is infinite."</p>
+<p>"I follow you."</p>
+<p>"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it
+purpose what it will not execute."</p>
+<p>"Please illustrate, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of
+making a world should make a comet."</p>
+<p>"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen
+to be in a fair way of becoming a world."</p>
+<p>"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or
+failure."</p>
+<p>"Yes; I see, or think I do."</p>
+<p>"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and
+slavery a crime. Two truths cannot clash."</p>
+<p>"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery
+into existence, and war, also?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules
+and works beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns
+them into means for advancing His cause."</p>
+<p>"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true.
+But I do not see how the South can be right."</p>
+<p>"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?"
+asked Lydia, suddenly.</p>
+<p>It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the
+beach.</p>
+<p>"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they
+see something that interests them."</p>
+<p>Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the
+wind blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us
+were looking intently through their field-glasses.</p>
+<p>"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I
+return."</p>
+<p>We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a
+glass; he looked, and came back to us rapidly.</p>
+<p>"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a
+glass," said he.</p>
+<p>"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.</p>
+<p>"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.</p>
+<p>"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she
+will."</p>
+<p>"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.</p>
+<p>"No; what do you mean?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron
+steamer which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she
+replied.</p>
+<p>"Iron?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with
+iron, so that it cannot be injured."</p>
+<p>"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships
+remain here?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a
+vessel off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia
+took the glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the <i>Merrimac!</i>
+what a strange-looking ship!"</p>
+<p>The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the
+shore were fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed,
+throughout the prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and,
+to all seeming, emotionless.</p>
+<p>Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With
+the unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of
+them were but a very short distance from us.</p>
+<p>The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until
+I needed rest; I sat on the ground.</p>
+<p>Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three
+ships moving up toward the two which were near us.</p>
+<p>The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The
+design of the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe
+between.</p>
+<p>The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large
+roof, with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward
+Fortress Monroe.</p>
+<p>Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships
+near Newport News.</p>
+<p>The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft;
+the batteries on shore turned loose on her.</p>
+<p>Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She
+was used to wounds, but had never before seen battle.</p>
+<p>From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down
+some smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too
+small to count for much.</p>
+<p>Suddenly the <i>Merrimac</i> fired one gun, still moving on
+toward our last ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and
+on, and on, and struck our ship with her prow, and backed.</p>
+<p>The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats
+kept up their fire.</p>
+<p>The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which
+was now endeavouring to get away. The <i>Merrimac</i> fired upon
+her, gun after gun.</p>
+<p>Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to
+fire.</p>
+<p>The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she
+sank, with her guns firing as she went down.</p>
+<p>Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The
+Doctor observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed
+heavily, but did not speak.</p>
+<p>The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship
+aground; and white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.</p>
+<p>Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore
+batteries, and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to
+prevent the capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the
+great craft fired again and again into the surrendered vessel, and
+set her afire.</p>
+<p>Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also
+was aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.</p>
+<p>The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until
+she was lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning
+ship was a sheet of flame; we could see men leap from her deck;
+boats put off from the shore.</p>
+<p>"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"I want no food," said I.</p>
+<p>"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better
+when you have eaten," he replied.</p>
+<p>Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.</p>
+<p>Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with
+excitement, gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white.
+I heard one say, "My God! what will become of the <i>Minnesota</i>
+to-morrow?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have
+failed.</p>
+<p>The burning <i>Congress</i> threw around us a light brighter
+than the moon; each of us had two shadows.</p>
+<p>We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so
+calm?"</p>
+<p>"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse;
+besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."</p>
+<p>"What is to prevent the <i>Merrimac</i> from destroying our
+whole fleet and then destroying our coast?"</p>
+<p>"God!" said Dr. Khayme.</p>
+<p>Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in
+my life than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not
+permit me to go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the
+camps I knew that my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought,
+that my experience in war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull
+Run had been but the first horror; here was another and possibly a
+worse one. The East seemed propitious to the rebels; Grant alone,
+of our side, could gain victories.</p>
+<p>The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense
+smoke crept along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort,
+I knew, was being made to get the <i>Minnesota</i> off; nobody
+could have slept that night.</p>
+<p>The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he
+came in finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and
+now came in also.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."</p>
+<p>Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something
+to relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the
+better."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, the <i>Merrimac</i> will meet her match if she
+comes out to-morrow."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the
+<i>Merrimac,</i> has arrived."</p>
+<p>Lydia left the tent.</p>
+<p>I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly.
+I started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head,
+and gently pressed me back to my pillow.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+<h3>THE TWO SOUTHS</h3>
+<center>"Yet spake yon purple mountain,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Yet said yon ancient wood,<br>
+That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON</center>
+<br>
+<p>About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to
+shake the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled
+dreams.</p>
+<p>I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were
+ranked against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of
+the soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in
+the other army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no
+soldier could say which flags were his. The men intermingled and
+fought, and, not able to know enemy from friend, slew friend and
+enemy, and slew until but two opponents remained; these two shook
+hands, and laughed, and I saw their faces; and the face of one was
+the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of the other I did not
+know.</p>
+<p>Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had
+dreamed true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were
+false. In my ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I
+had judged that it would be strange if among a thousand dreams not
+one should prove true. So this dream passed for the time from my
+mind.</p>
+<p>We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave.
+Lydia looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we
+expected a trial to our nerves.</p>
+<p>After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried
+one; we went to a sand-hill near the beach.</p>
+<p>To the south of the <i>Minnesota</i> now lay a peculiar vessel.
+No one had ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a
+flat raft with a big round cistern--such as are seen in the South
+and West--amidships, and a very big box or barrel on one end.</p>
+<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> was coming; there were crowds of spectators
+on the batteries and on the dunes.</p>
+<p>The <i>Monitor</i> remained near the <i>Minnesota</i>; the
+<i>Merrimac</i> came on. From each of the iron ships came great
+spouts of smoke, from each the sound of heavy guns. The wind drove
+away the smoke rapidly; every manoeuvre could be seen.</p>
+<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> looked like a giant by the side of the
+other, but the other was quicker.</p>
+<p>They fought for hours, the <i>Merrimac</i> slowly moving past
+the <i>Monitor</i> and firing many guns, the <i>Monitor</i> turning
+quickly and seeming to fire but seldom. Sometimes they were so near
+each other they seemed to touch.</p>
+<p>At last they parted; the <i>Monitor</i> steamed toward the
+shore, and the great <i>Merrimac</i> headed southward and went away
+into the distance.</p>
+<p>Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in
+our little group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling
+was too deep; on the issue of the contest depended vast
+results.</p>
+<p>When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I
+could not tell whether our side had won, but I know that the
+<i>Merrimac</i> had hauled off without accomplishing her purpose; I
+think that was all that any of us knew. At any moment I should not
+have been astonished to see the <i>Merrimac</i> blow her little
+antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my mind the fight had
+been very unequal.</p>
+<p>"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp,
+"and now McClellan's army can come without fear."</p>
+<p>"Do you think," I asked, "that the <i>Merrimac</i> is so badly
+done up that she will not try it again?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is
+damaged; but of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she
+could have fought longer with hope of victory, she would not have
+retired; her retreat means that she has renounced her best
+hope."</p>
+<p>The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in
+nearly two days. She was still very serious, however. She had
+become accustomed in hospital work to some of the results of
+battle; now she had witnessed war itself.</p>
+<p>After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the
+navy would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our
+fleet that would give us a final preponderance over the South.</p>
+<p>"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a
+stupendous undertaking could well be."</p>
+<p>"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more
+restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend
+upon their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."</p>
+<p>"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said
+Lydia.</p>
+<p>"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially,
+thinks clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing
+about states' rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though,
+beats true on the slavery question; England will never recognize
+the South."</p>
+<p>"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?"
+I asked,</p>
+<p>"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not
+believe that, I should feel no interest in this war."</p>
+<p>"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no
+intention of interfering with slavery."</p>
+<p>"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been
+avoided; but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar
+institution of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of
+slavery in the South, England would recognize the South. England
+has no political love for the United States, and would not lament
+greatly the dissolution of the Union. The North will be compelled
+to extinguish slavery in order to prevent England from recognizing
+the South. The Union cannot now be preserved except on condition of
+freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I am willing to compromise
+with you; I am for saving the Union in order to destroy slavery,
+and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order to save the
+Union!</p>
+<p>"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will
+succeed unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by
+constitutional means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation;
+you see how one crime always leads to another."</p>
+<p>"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for
+slavery only, whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is
+fighting for self-government."</p>
+<p>"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is
+fighting for slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself.
+But when we say 'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we
+mean. There are two Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and
+their slaves; the other is the common people. There never was a
+greater absurdity taught than that which Northern writers and
+newspapers have spread to the effect that in the South there is no
+middle class. The middle class <i>is</i> the South. This is the
+South that is right and wholesome and strong. The North may defeat
+the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat it; but
+never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
+which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of
+truth if not the fulness of it.</p>
+<p>"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in
+her present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also
+the North is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.</p>
+<p>"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will
+go down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men,
+the North will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not
+do it. The Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and
+undeveloped, must prevail instead of the Southern idea of
+individual freedom; but how prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that
+war in which ideas prevail is not fought with force. Artillery
+accomplishes naught. I can fancy a battlefield where two great
+armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on this side and on that side
+are uniformed alike and their flags are alike, but they kill each
+other till none remains, and nothing is accomplished except
+destruction; yet the principle for which each fought remains,
+though all are dead."</p>
+<p>For a time I was speechless.</p>
+<p>At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and
+flags alike?"</p>
+<p>He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their
+cause, and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="IX"></a>IX</h2>
+<h3>KILLING TIME</h3>
+<center>"Why, then, let's on our way in silent
+sort."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were
+spent with her father.</p>
+<p>Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered
+all my old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody
+could say when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed,
+found roomy locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off
+at Yorktown, and with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the
+country up to our pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the
+Doctor's company time would have been heavy on my hands.</p>
+<p>About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but
+no Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his
+camp until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that
+there would be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer
+to Richmond.</p>
+<p>On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was
+willing to serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh
+should come.</p>
+<p>"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a
+few days," he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the
+troops now here are more than are needed, except for future work.
+Besides, you might do better. You have good eyes, and a good memory
+as long as it lasts; you might make a secret examination of the
+Confederate lines."</p>
+<p>"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."</p>
+<p>"Well, think of it," said he.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
+exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did
+not wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I
+liked the thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning
+the positions and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my
+school days, and afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting
+stories with, eagerness, and had worshipped his Witherspoon.</p>
+<p>"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
+possible."</p>
+<p>"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to
+send you off properly."</p>
+<p>When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by
+the Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But
+she said little, and I could only infer that she might be creating
+in her brain false dangers for a friend.</p>
+<p>By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything
+was ready for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober
+suit of gray clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might
+deceive the eye at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate
+the wearer from any suspicion that he was seriously offering
+himself as a Confederate.</p>
+<p>"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it
+will fit you well enough."</p>
+<p>It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and,
+purposely, had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave
+me also a black felt hat.</p>
+<p>"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I
+answered.</p>
+<p>"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial
+things such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be
+searched nothing can be proved. Leave all your money in bills
+behind; coin will not be bad to take; here are a few Confederate
+notes for you."</p>
+<p>"Do I need a pass?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
+Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it;
+I want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass
+would betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it
+will not be difficult to explain at headquarters."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"</p>
+<p>"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't
+know when you will get another meal."</p>
+<p>At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and
+reach before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line,
+which was believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry
+Island, or Mulberry Point; I would then watch for opportunities,
+and act accordingly, with the view of following up the rebel line,
+or as near to it as possible.</p>
+<p>I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon
+outside the guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due
+north by the Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was
+glad of it. The stars gave me enough light. My road was good,
+level, sandy--a lane between two rail fences almost hidden with
+vines and briers. At my left and behind me I could hear the roar of
+the surf.</p>
+<p>When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead,
+I stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our
+men, or rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into
+a fence corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I
+waited until they had passed out of sight, and then rose to
+continue my tramp, when suddenly, before I had made a step, another
+horseman rode by, following the others. If he had looked in my
+direction, he would have seen me; but he passed on with his head
+straight to the front. I supposed that this last man was on duty as
+the rear of the squad.</p>
+<p>Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The
+party of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol,
+and that I should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely
+cautious in going forward, not knowing how soon I might run against
+some scouting party of the rebels.</p>
+<p>The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy
+and mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small
+growth. The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from
+studying the map before I had set out I had some idea of the
+general character of the country at my right, as well as a pretty
+accurate notion of the distance I must make before I should come
+near to the first rebel post; though, of course, I could not know
+that such post had not been abandoned, or advanced even, within the
+last few hours.</p>
+<p>I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and
+straight ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My
+senses were alert; I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I
+felt that I was alone and dependent upon myself, but the feeling
+was not greatly oppressive.</p>
+<p>Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence
+running at a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not
+continued to the left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence
+was the junction of the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly
+seen before I started that at this junction there was danger of
+finding a rebel outpost, or of falling upon a rebel scouting party,
+I now became still more cautious, moving along half bent on the
+edge of the road, and at last creeping on my hands and knees until
+I reached the junction.</p>
+<p>There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward
+Little Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found
+nothing, and returned to the junction; then continued up the road
+toward Young's Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited
+frequently by the rebels, and my attention became so fixed that I
+started at the slightest noise. The sand's crunching under my feet
+sounded like the puffing of a locomotive. The wind made a slight
+rippling with the ends of the tie on my hat-band, I cut the ends
+off, to be relieved of the distraction.</p>
+<p>I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as
+well as to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to
+Bethel, at my rear and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk
+into a fence corner, and lay perfectly still, listening with all my
+ears. The noise increased; it was clear that horsemen from the
+Bethel road were coming into the junction, a hundred yards in my
+rear.</p>
+<p>The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.</p>
+<p>But <i>had</i> they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down
+the road toward Newport News.</p>
+<p>Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the
+hoof-beats of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into
+my fence corner and lay flat and still.</p>
+<p>It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when
+life is about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant
+all the deeds of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know,
+at least, that my mind had many thoughts in the situation in which
+I now found myself.</p>
+<p>I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were
+rebels.</p>
+<p>They were now but a few yards off.</p>
+<p>An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would
+discover me.</p>
+<p>If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen
+would ride me down at once.</p>
+<p>If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky,
+would be a mark for many carbines.</p>
+<p>If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.</p>
+<p>But what could I expect from my companion?</p>
+<p>Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had
+the rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were
+they pursuing him?</p>
+<p>But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the
+direction of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he
+not hidden.</p>
+<p>If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be
+to lie still.</p>
+<p>Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were
+rebels.</p>
+<p>But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If
+he was one of theirs, should I lie still?</p>
+<p>No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot
+at.</p>
+<p>If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case,
+my unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let
+the troops pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet
+of me.</p>
+<p>Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel,
+still the question remained whether he had seen me.</p>
+<p>It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was
+a log? Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a
+place; there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify
+the existence of a log in this place.</p>
+<p>All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while
+the horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces
+more, I had come to a decision.</p>
+<p>I had decided to lie still.</p>
+<p>There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get
+away. I would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a
+friend, my case might be better than before; if he should prove to
+be an enemy, I must act prudently and try to befool him. I must
+discover his intentions before making mine known. He, also, must be
+in a great quandary.</p>
+<p>The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told
+whether they were from the North or the South by their voices, but
+they did not speak.</p>
+<p>There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and,
+indeed, I did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to
+the ground.</p>
+<p>The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.</p>
+<p>Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my
+companion. I was right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else
+he would now rise and go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he
+did not speak; what was the matter with him?</p>
+<p>But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me,
+just as I was fearing him.</p>
+<p>But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was
+hiding from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?</p>
+<p>But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his
+hiding in a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the
+observation of the horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence
+corner was an accident.</p>
+<p>Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do
+something? He has no reason to fear me.</p>
+<p>But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads
+everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave
+him.</p>
+<p>But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot
+speak to a man who flees and hides? I <i>will</i> speak to
+him--</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.</p>
+<p>I sat bolt upright; so did he.</p>
+<p>"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, you; what is your name?"</p>
+<p>"My name Nick."</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."</p>
+<p>"You are hiding from the soldiers."</p>
+<p>"What sojers, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not
+yet know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The
+night was cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had
+been warm, but now I was getting chilly.</p>
+<p>Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a
+supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave
+who does not wish to be free is an impossibility.</p>
+<p>"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno, mahsa."</p>
+<p>"Then, why did you hide from them?"</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; why did you run and hide?"</p>
+<p>"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."</p>
+<p>This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I
+must be the first to declare myself.</p>
+<p>"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say
+rebels, but thought better of it; the word would declare my
+sympathies. I was not so ready, after all.</p>
+<p>"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted
+negro.</p>
+<p>"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."</p>
+<p>"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so.
+I knew that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp
+servants, slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be
+trustworthy. Who could know, after all, that there were no
+exceptions amongst slaves? My doubts became so keen that I should
+not have believed Nick on his oath. He might tell me a lie with the
+purpose of leading me into a rebel camp. I must get rid of him
+somehow.</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"</p>
+<p>"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."</p>
+<p>"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a
+little?"</p>
+<p>I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose
+tobacco in one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not
+know.</p>
+<p>"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick
+hesitated,</p>
+<p>"A what?"</p>
+<p>"A good man," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."</p>
+<p>"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"I want to see some people up there."</p>
+<p>Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him
+into the Southern lines? It looked so.</p>
+<p>The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might
+betray me. His hesitation was assuring.</p>
+<p>I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some
+people up the road."</p>
+<p>"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."</p>
+<p>"Do you think they will come back soon?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."</p>
+<p>"Didn't you come from up the road?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"</p>
+<p>This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it;
+and to give him as good.</p>
+<p>"Do Southern officers carry guns?"</p>
+<p>"You Southern officer, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't
+you know that, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.</p>
+<p>"What is it, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."</p>
+<p>"What makes you think so, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on
+lak you is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back
+to dem breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or
+I'll have you strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."</p>
+<p>Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be
+feared. He was willing for me to believe that he had run away from
+the Confederates.</p>
+<p>"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are
+enough niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like
+to give you a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.</p>
+<p>"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"</p>
+<p>"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"Go up the road with me," said I.</p>
+<p>Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted
+to betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his
+silence to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say,
+that he wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I
+felt so sure of this that I should not have been surprised if he
+had suddenly set out running down the road; yet I supposed that he
+was still in doubt of my character and feared a pistol-shot from
+me. He was silent so long that I fully made up my mind that I could
+trust him a little.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern
+officer nor a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to
+go to Fortress Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first;
+if you serve me well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one
+day, and I'll make it worth your while."</p>
+<p>"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"</p>
+<p>"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me
+how to see the breastworks and not be seen myself."</p>
+<p>"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"</p>
+<p>It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he
+think it out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern
+soldier?</p>
+<p>"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will
+give you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you
+another dollar and a chance to make more."</p>
+<p>Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the
+sequel showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally,
+he said that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I
+felt in my pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at
+once closed the bargain.</p>
+<p>"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be
+faithful, and I will give you another before dark to-morrow."</p>
+<p>"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"</p>
+<p>"Where is the first Confederate post?"</p>
+<p>"You mean dem Southern sojers?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine <i>up</i> de road, or dem
+dat's fust a-comin' <i>down</i> de road?"</p>
+<p>"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.</p>
+<p>"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"Did you see them?"</p>
+<p>"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."</p>
+<p>"How did you keep them from seeing you?"</p>
+<p>"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."</p>
+<p>"How long ago was it since you saw them?"</p>
+<p>"Sence sundown," said Nick,</p>
+<p>"When did you leave the breastworks?"</p>
+<p>"Las' night."</p>
+<p>"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"</p>
+<p>"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might
+strak up wid 'em."</p>
+<p>"How far have you come in all?"</p>
+<p>"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber
+swamp all day."</p>
+<p>"Did you have anything to eat?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."</p>
+<p>"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"</p>
+<p>"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to
+eat?"</p>
+<p>"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."</p>
+<p>"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is
+almos' all done gone to Richmon' er summers<a name=
+"FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1">[1]</a> en' I don't know w'at
+we's a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do
+fer sum'hm to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer
+'bacco nudda."</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a>
+Somewhere [Ed.].</blockquote>
+<p>"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect
+you to find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for
+it."</p>
+<p>We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.</p>
+<p>"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it
+as I can get without being seen."</p>
+<p>"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.</p>
+<p>"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the
+breastworks. First, I want to go to Young's Mill."</p>
+<p>"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."</p>
+<p>"Two?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de
+yudda one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."</p>
+<p>"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.</p>
+<p>"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep
+dis straight road."</p>
+<p>"But we must not show ourselves," said I.</p>
+<p>"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda;
+des' you follow me."</p>
+<p>Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a
+mile, then northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the
+road again.</p>
+<p>"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun'
+de fust ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got
+aroun' 'em, 'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em
+agin."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.</p>
+<p>We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean
+death. We went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way
+at a rapid and long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in
+sight. The night was getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and
+there were dense clumps of small trees; at the little watercourses
+there was larger growth. The roar of the sea was heard no longer.
+It must have been about midnight.</p>
+<p>We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed
+ours.</p>
+<p>"Stop a little, Nick," said I.</p>
+<p>Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a
+hundred yards in every direction.</p>
+<p>"Where does that road go?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole
+Young's Mill."</p>
+<p>"How far is old Young's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p>
+<p>"Where does the right-hand lead?"</p>
+<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis
+Cheeseman's dey is calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry,
+but dey is on de yudda side o' de creek."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p>
+<p>We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road
+running almost west; a church stood on the other side of the
+road.</p>
+<p>"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to
+Worrick."</p>
+<p>"And where does the right-hand lead?"</p>
+<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off,
+nudda."</p>
+<p>We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick
+was telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was
+still before my mind's eye.</p>
+<p>"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I
+asked.</p>
+<p>"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"How far this side?"</p>
+<p>"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"</p>
+<p>"How near can we get to the picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut
+down."</p>
+<p>"The trees cut down in their front?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."</p>
+<p>"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun'
+de pon'."</p>
+<p>"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the
+picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de
+picket-line, en' de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en'
+all."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your
+eyes wide open."</p>
+<p>Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he
+turned to the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and
+crossed a creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see
+in the darkness a great deal better than I could; where I should
+have groped my way, had I been alone, he went boldly enough,
+putting his foot down flat as though he could see where he was
+stepping. Nick said that there were no soldiers in these woods and
+swamps; they were all on the road and at Young's Mill, now a mile
+at our left.</p>
+<p>At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very
+tired; but, not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we
+should wait by the side of the road for a while, to see if any
+soldiers should pass. We sat in the bushes; soon Nick was on his
+back, asleep, and I was not sorry to see him go to sleep so
+quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have done so if he had
+meant to betray me.</p>
+<p>I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single
+horseman came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his
+sabre rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had
+died away, I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At
+last Nick stopped.</p>
+<p>"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.</p>
+<p>"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.</p>
+<p>"Again? Have we gone wrong?"</p>
+<p>"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he
+repeated.</p>
+<p>"Where are we?"</p>
+<p>"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den
+w'at you gwine to do?"</p>
+<p>"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and
+know how many they are."</p>
+<p>"Den w'at you gwine to do?"</p>
+<p>"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward
+Yorktown."</p>
+<p>"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin'
+out in de woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout
+noth'n' to eat."</p>
+<p>"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get
+an hour or two of sleep without freezing?"</p>
+<p>"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's
+w'at you gwine to do; come on."</p>
+<p>He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through
+woods, then a field, and came to a farmhouse,</p>
+<p>"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that
+house."</p>
+<p>"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to
+Richmon' er summers."</p>
+<p>The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the
+place.</p>
+<p>Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed
+up into the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose
+hay in the loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick
+promise to be awake before sunrise, for I feared the place would be
+visited by the rebels.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="X"></a>X</h2>
+<h3>THE LINE OF THE WARWICK</h3>
+<center>"Thus are poor servitors,<br>
+While others sleep upon their quiet beds,<br>
+Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."<br>
+--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep
+quickly. When I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.</p>
+<p>I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the
+sky was reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for
+hours had he been alone.</p>
+<p>The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food?
+Useless to search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was
+bare. I asked Nick if he could manage in any way to get something
+to eat. He could not; we must starve unless accident should throw
+food in our way.</p>
+<p>A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a
+long ways to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood
+nor no water."</p>
+<p>We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we
+reached it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see
+dryer ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a
+tree I could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the
+west, with the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no
+movement going on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent.
+I had no more tobacco.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through
+the woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their
+line crossed the road.</p>
+<p>About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of
+felled timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our
+left. At long intervals a man would pass across the road where it
+struck the picket-line.</p>
+<p>Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his
+topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line
+was behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an
+outpost; and I was considering whether it would not be best to turn
+this position on the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible,
+and make for Lee's Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient,
+and see what was above that point, when I heard galloping in the
+road behind us. Nick had heard the noise before it reached my
+ears.</p>
+<p>A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and
+remained a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the
+road toward Warwick Court-House.</p>
+<p>At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept
+up as near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their
+knapsacks and falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry
+from down the road; they passed through the picket-line, and were
+soon lost to sight. Then the picket marched off up the road. Ten
+minutes more and half a dozen cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of
+all, I was hoping--and passed on.</p>
+<p>The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention
+of getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of
+appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the
+abandoned line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we
+crawled through the felled timber.</p>
+<p>The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over
+the ground were the remains of straw beds; some brush
+arbours--improvised shelters--were standing; we found enough broken
+pieces of hardtack to relieve our most pressing want.</p>
+<p>I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended
+within two hundred yards of the road.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this
+direction?" pointing northwest.</p>
+<p>"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said
+Nick.</p>
+<p>"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."</p>
+<p>"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"</p>
+<p>"You mean 'long here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is
+some mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de
+riber, whah Lee's Mill is."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Hit's mos' fo' mile."</p>
+<p>"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Riber is deep down below de mill."</p>
+<p>"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.</p>
+<p>"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."</p>
+<p>"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."</p>
+<p>"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at
+de Pint."</p>
+<p>"Up at what Point?"</p>
+<p>"Up at de Mulberry Pint."</p>
+<p>"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"</p>
+<p>"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."</p>
+<p>Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the
+withdrawal of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main
+line beyond the Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach
+the river and follow it up--since the rebel line was on its other
+bank or beyond--I decided to let Nick go.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more
+now."</p>
+<p>"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will
+attend closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night,
+are you not?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for
+me. Will you do it?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the
+rebels catch you."</p>
+<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet
+some Union soldiers; then you will be safe."</p>
+<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the
+rebel camp. I gave the paper to Nick.</p>
+<p>"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the
+captain."</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must
+tell him that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick
+Court-House, and that the paper is to let him know it."</p>
+<p>"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I
+won't do noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."</p>
+<p>"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to
+you."</p>
+<p>Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.</p>
+<p>My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the
+Warwick River some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits,
+my cautiousness increased, although I expected to find no enemy
+until I was near the mill. I went first as nearly westward as I
+could know; my purposes were to reach the river and roughly
+ascertain its width and depth; if it should be, as Nick had
+declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth would be sufficient
+protection to the rebels behind it, and I would waste no time in
+examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I crept,
+sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in
+the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either
+crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in
+the low ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left
+was a cleared field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the
+field a dwelling with outhouses. I approached the house, screening
+myself behind a rail fence. The house was deserted. I passed
+through the yard. There was no sign of any living thing, except a
+pig which scampered away with a loud snort of disapproval. The
+house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows were broken,
+and a mere glance showed me that the place had been stripped.</p>
+<p>Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the
+river, for I began to fear that I had been rash in coming through
+the open. Soon I struck the river, which here bent in a long curve
+across the line of my march. The river was wide and deep.</p>
+<p>At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be
+little need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of
+this unfordable stream.</p>
+<p>It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my
+rear, and wondered what could be going on back there.</p>
+<p>Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So
+long as I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and
+the country, even away from the river, was much wooded. My
+knowledge of the map placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and
+northeast I went, but for fully three hours I kept on and found no
+river again. I felt sure that I had leaned too far to the east, and
+was about to turn square to my left and seek the river, when I saw
+before me a smaller stream flowing westward. I did not understand.
+I knew that I had come a much greater distance than three miles; I
+had crossed two large roads running north; this stream was not down
+on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this stream was the
+Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small, as Nick
+had intimated.</p>
+<p>I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great
+angle in the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's
+Mill.</p>
+<p>Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam,
+seemingly a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not
+understand why it was there. On the other side of the water, which
+seemed to be deep, though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A
+road, a narrow country road, ran seemingly straight into the water.
+Only a few steps to my left there was an elbow of the road, I moved
+to this elbow, keeping in the bushes, and looked down on the water.
+There was no sign of a ferry; I could see the road where it left
+the water on the other side, and I could see men passing back and
+forth across the road some two or three hundred yards away.</p>
+<p>For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the
+meaning of this road's going into deep water. What could it mean?
+Certainly there was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The
+ordinary needs of the country would require a ferry, and there was
+no ferry. I had looked long and closely, and was sure there was no
+ferry, and was almost as sure that there never had been one. The
+road before my eyes was untravelled; the ruts were weeks old,
+without the sign of a fresh track since the last rains; the road
+was not now used, that was a certainty.</p>
+<p>When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear;
+the road had been a good road before the rebels came; when they
+fortified their lines they rendered the road useless. They
+destroyed the ford by building the dam below.</p>
+<p>I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of
+what at first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have
+told me offhand all about it.</p>
+<p>In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep
+water. Now, thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly
+see another dam, and it was not five minutes before I came in sight
+of the second dam.</p>
+<p>I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of
+earthworks on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed
+nearly straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was.
+To attack the Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our
+troops could first destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.</p>
+<p>By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was
+famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get
+any food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about
+me to see if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for
+not having brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain
+this night near the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing
+that my work was not yet done, until the next day; so I must expect
+many hours of sharp hunger unless I could find food.</p>
+<p>I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a
+continuous line of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to
+Yorktown, and all I cared to prove was whether that line had its
+angle at the former place, as Nick had declared, and as seemed
+reasonable to me from every consideration. I would, then, make my
+way carefully down the river to Lee's Mill, and if possible finish
+my work before sunset; but my hunger was so great that I thought it
+advisable to first seek food. So, deferring my further progress
+down the stream, I set out in an easterly direction by the road
+which had crossed previously above the second dam, in the hope that
+this road would lead me to some house where help could be found,
+for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my first
+need.</p>
+<p>However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road,
+walking through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another
+road joining it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn
+from recent use. I had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard
+a noise behind me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat
+behind a bush which grew by a fallen tree. Three
+horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward. They passed at a walk,
+and were talking, but their words could not be distinguished. The
+middle man was riding a gray horse.</p>
+<p>About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became
+less dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was
+what the Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a
+small farmhouse with, a few necessary outbuildings.</p>
+<p>Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house
+yard from the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with
+saddles on their backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant
+from the horses, and could plainly see a holster in front of one of
+the saddles.</p>
+<p>No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and
+listened. The evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in
+the west, but the sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be
+an hour or two of daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill
+must be put off till the morrow.</p>
+<p>A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the
+well in the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail
+of water. Now the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the
+stamping of heavy foot within the house; a moment afterward three
+men came out and approached the horses.</p>
+<p>The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his
+eyes with his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling
+cloud-edge barely hid the sun from view. He was looking directly
+over my head; dropping his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This
+man was nearer to me than the others were. I could less distinctly
+hear the words of the others, but when this one got near their
+horses a conversation was held with the woman standing in the
+doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse,
+"yes, I reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any
+more."</p>
+<p>"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose
+words, by reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was
+talking toward me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.</p>
+<p>"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was
+astride his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks
+treat you as well as us, you may thank your God."</p>
+<p>"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to
+risk 'em if God sends 'em."</p>
+<p>The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions,
+shouted back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody
+else!"</p>
+<p>"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a
+parting shot.</p>
+<p>When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the
+road, I had but little reluctance in going into the house. The
+woman stared at me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye;
+evidently she did not know what to think of me. She said nothing,
+and stood her ground in the middle of the floor.</p>
+<p>I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in
+which there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst;
+then I said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have
+what cold food you have in the house."</p>
+<p>"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she
+asked.</p>
+<p>"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"</p>
+<p>"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most
+ev'ything I had, so I hain't got much."</p>
+<p>"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you
+can."</p>
+<p>She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone"
+of corn-bread.</p>
+<p>"This is all they is," she said.</p>
+<p>"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"</p>
+<p>"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."</p>
+<p>"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.</p>
+<p>She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down
+to Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an'
+you soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel
+kinder skittish."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the
+Yankees are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before
+to-morrow, though--maybe not till the day after."</p>
+<p>"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but
+I reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."</p>
+<p>"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't
+have run off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of
+them. I don't suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop
+again."</p>
+<p>"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop
+tell they git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the
+mill."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,</p>
+<p>She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a
+mistake.</p>
+<p>"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"</p>
+<p>"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."</p>
+<p>I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I
+had made another mistake.</p>
+<p>"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing
+her a one-dollar Confederate note.</p>
+<p>"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to
+see silver agin."</p>
+<p>"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.</p>
+<p>"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore
+eyes."</p>
+<p>"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said;
+"anyhow, you kin git to the camp on this side."</p>
+<p>"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.</p>
+<p>"Good-by, Mister," she said.</p>
+<p>I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the
+door; she raised her voice a little, and said,--</p>
+<p>"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the
+mill."</p>
+<p>So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but
+as soon as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right
+through the woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could
+eat and sleep.</p>
+<p>When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from
+the post near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all
+withdrawing to their main lines; this thought had received some
+corroboration from the firing heard in my rear later in the day; I
+had believed the Union troops advancing behind me; but afterward I
+had seen other rebels at the woman's house, and I now doubted what
+I had before believed. Besides, it was clear from the woman's words
+that there was a rebel post this side of Lee's Mill, and I was yet
+in danger.</p>
+<p>The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running
+west, the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept
+up to it, and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it,
+and into the woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a
+southwest course, and found a spot where I thought I could spend
+the night in safety. For fear of being detected I dug a hole, with
+my knife, in the earth, and piled the loose earth around the hole;
+then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at the bottom. Night had not
+yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense thicket surrounded
+by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or smoke would
+betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of any one
+who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and toasted
+my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I wanted
+water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to
+search for a spring or a stream in the woods.</p>
+<p>I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with
+my hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not
+cold, threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the
+wind.</p>
+<p>Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of
+lying in a mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water
+running through my whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have
+water at any risk.</p>
+<p>I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of
+my supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all
+likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.</p>
+<p>Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was
+completely lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and
+gullies, round and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out,
+until just before day I saw the reflection of fire through the
+woods, and at the same time almost fell into a small pool. It was
+the reflection of the light by the pool which at once showed me the
+water and saved me from finding it with a sense other than
+sight.</p>
+<p>I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant.
+Although it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it
+was some rebel camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I
+turned my back on the light, and walked until I could see it no
+more; then I stretched myself under a tree, but could not sleep.
+Day was coming.</p>
+<p>After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable
+time of it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to
+determine to move, for I did not know which way to start. I set
+out, however, and had gone a short distance, when I noticed the
+green moss at the root of a large tree, and I remembered that I had
+read in stories of Indians and hunters that such moss always grows
+on the north side of the trees. So I then turned westward, for I
+knew that I had crossed no road in my wanderings of the night, and
+I also knew that the main road from Warwick Court-House to Lee's
+Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a great tree with a
+sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was raining harder.
+When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat under the
+tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and hiding
+me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard
+the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of
+rebel cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could
+distinctly hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off,
+seemingly. The rain still fell and I held my place.</p>
+<p>All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union
+soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.</p>
+<p>Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an
+advancing line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.</p>
+<p>"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are <i>you?</i>"</p>
+<p>"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer,
+coming up, "I'll attend to that man."</p>
+<p>"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to
+the right!"</p>
+<p>Two men came to the lieutenant.</p>
+<p>"Who <i>are</i> you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.</p>
+<p>"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"</p>
+<p>"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in
+the night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of
+their cavalry went by ten minutes ago."</p>
+<p>The line went on in the rain.</p>
+<p>The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them
+to take me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson.
+I have never learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good
+qualities.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line
+did not seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began
+to understand that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should
+have run upon the enemy in force.</p>
+<p>I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the
+head of his brigade. He asked me my name.</p>
+<p>"Jones Berwick, General," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your business?"</p>
+<p>"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p>
+<p>He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least,
+it had not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before
+yesterday."</p>
+<p>"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near
+Washington?"</p>
+<p>"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my
+health, General."</p>
+<p>"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by
+lying out in the woods in the rain?"</p>
+<p>"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and
+I am now fully recovered."</p>
+<p>General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on
+day before yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General
+McClellan had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I
+left."</p>
+<p>"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern
+accent."</p>
+<p>"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner;
+I came out to observe the rebel lines."</p>
+<p>"By whose authority?"</p>
+<p>Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass,
+signed by such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some
+complication should arise which would give trouble to such an
+officer, for Dr. Khayme had not fully informed me about my
+privileges.</p>
+<p>"It was only a private enterprise, General."</p>
+<p>"Tell me all about it," he said.</p>
+<p>I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the
+Warwick River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it;
+that the fords had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no
+rebels on this side of the river now, in my opinion, except
+pickets, and possibly a force just in front of Lee's Mill.</p>
+<p>"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the
+other side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it.
+Night came on me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I
+have nothing but hearsay in regard to that place."</p>
+<p>"What have you heard?"</p>
+<p>I told him what the woman had said.</p>
+<p>"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he
+asked sternly.</p>
+<p>"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any
+proof; I wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy
+you."</p>
+<p>The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on
+a piece of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who
+rushed off to the rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from
+the rear; he saluted General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him
+in a low tone. I could easily guess that he was speaking of me.</p>
+<p>Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about
+my service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was
+its colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead
+of my regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick
+replies. Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout,
+which I gave him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke
+of Nick, his eye brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he
+nodded his head. Then he asked, "What did you write?"</p>
+<p>"The word <i>going</i>," I said.</p>
+<p>"Have you a pencil?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Here, take this, and write the word <i>going</i>," he said,
+handing me a small blank-book.</p>
+<p>On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature
+below.</p>
+<p>Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked
+attentively at both books.</p>
+<p>Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he
+says. Better be careful of your advance."</p>
+<p>And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr.
+Berwick."</p>
+<p>That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XI"></a>XI</h2>
+<h3>FORT WILLIS</h3>
+<center>"This is the sergeant,<br>
+Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters,
+I had been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News.
+The officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's
+aides. The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had
+delivered my message, with which my handwriting showed identity;
+moreover, General Keyes, when the matter was brought to his
+attention, immediately declared with a laugh that his friend
+Khayme's prot&eacute;g&eacute; was a "brick."</p>
+<p>The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously
+subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which,
+though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a
+camp-bed after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near
+me, and questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to
+term my escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my
+visit to the woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred
+on Nick.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point
+of view in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have
+trusted him the instant I learned that he was a slave."</p>
+<p>"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the
+slaves wish to be free."</p>
+<p>"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has
+independence of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at
+night between two hostile armies, wishes to be free."</p>
+<p>"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think,
+that at the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can
+now."</p>
+<p>This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed,
+"Father, Mr. Berwick needs rest."</p>
+<p>"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of.
+Let me fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then
+he can sleep the sleep of the just."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."</p>
+<p>"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that
+the just live forever."</p>
+<p>"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did
+live."</p>
+<p>"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said
+"slaveholders."</p>
+<p>"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels,
+that is, after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion
+becomes unnecessary."</p>
+<p>"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war,
+are necessary?"</p>
+<p>"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the
+Doctor; "rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to
+usurped authority is always right."</p>
+<p>"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked
+languidly.</p>
+<p>"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."</p>
+<p>"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only
+making him sleepy."</p>
+<p>Lydia retired.</p>
+<p>I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He
+continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but
+I warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for
+to-morrow. By the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your
+regiment is expected on the tenth."</p>
+<p>"Glad to hear it, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them
+that I saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of
+course."</p>
+<p>"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"What is that?"</p>
+<p>"The map we have is incorrect."</p>
+<p>"How so?"</p>
+<p>"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."</p>
+<p>"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep,
+and it cannot be turned on the James River side except by the
+fleet."</p>
+<p>"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing
+nothing, and probably will do nothing until the <i>Merrimac</i> is
+disposed of."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"</p>
+<p>"By this and that," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.</p>
+<p>"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our
+troops should have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."</p>
+<p>"Do you object?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I
+should have done I don't well see."</p>
+<p>"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been
+compelled to wait till night to make a start."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and
+faster than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before
+sleep overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head
+looked alive, and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and
+half hid the Doctor's face were not mere forms that would dissipate
+and be no more; they seemed living beings--servants attendant on
+their master's will.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote
+some letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news
+that Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a
+siege instead of a battle.</p>
+<p>"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by
+assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for
+re&euml;nforcements, there will be nothing to prevent the
+Confederates from being re&euml;nforced; so mote it be."</p>
+<p>"What! You are not impatient?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+<p>"And you are willing for the enemy to be re&euml;nforced?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will
+end."</p>
+<p>"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he
+is likely to lose much time now."</p>
+<p>"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."</p>
+<p>"All the time there is! that means eternity."</p>
+<p>"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."</p>
+<p>"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.</p>
+<p>"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will
+happen in that time."</p>
+<p>"To McClellan?"</p>
+<p>"Why not to McClellan? To all."</p>
+<p>"Everything is a big word, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"No bigger than eternity."</p>
+<p>"And McClellan will win and will lose?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that
+everything will happen."</p>
+<p>"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the
+conditions necessary to cause everything to come to pass."</p>
+<p>"The rebels will win and the North will win?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will
+happen."</p>
+<p>"You surely are a strange puzzle."</p>
+<p>"I give myself enough time, do I not?"</p>
+<p>"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."</p>
+<p>"The contradiction is only seeming."</p>
+<p>"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull
+Run?"</p>
+<p>"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but
+the defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by
+saying both North and South will win, you surely know; it is that
+the divine purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end
+and accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present
+wicked strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the
+people of both sections wants will come; what they want they fight
+for; but it would have come without war, as I was about to tell you
+last night, when you interrupted me by going to sleep."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how
+rebellion could exist and not bring war."</p>
+<p>"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.</p>
+<p>"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in
+two senses," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to
+give it."</p>
+<p>"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."</p>
+<p>"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall
+proceed to punish you."</p>
+<p>"By refusing me?"</p>
+<p>"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does
+not necessarily bring war?"</p>
+<p>"That is the postulate," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Then, first, what is rebellion?"</p>
+<p>"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a
+definition, "rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or
+state, to the legalized government of the nation or state."</p>
+<p>"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see
+if there have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you
+say of Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"</p>
+<p>"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a
+stop to it."</p>
+<p>"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you
+say of Monk?"</p>
+<p>"What Monk?"</p>
+<p>"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the
+Second."</p>
+<p>"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a
+rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."</p>
+<p>"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"</p>
+<p>"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does
+not bring war when, the other party won't fight."</p>
+<p>"But it is wrong to fight," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.</p>
+<p>"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending
+is that every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England
+have been wiser if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies?
+Suppose the principle of peace were cherished: the ideas that would
+otherwise cause rebellion would be patiently tested; the men of new
+or opposite ideas would no longer be rebels; they would be
+statesmen; a rebellion would be accepted, tried, and defeated by a
+counter rebellion, both peaceable. It is simply leaving things to
+the will of the majority. Right ideas will win, no matter what the
+opposition to them. Better change the arena of conflict. A single
+champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter and prove his
+hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same thing on
+a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and I
+have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or
+rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you
+Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you
+proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of
+them are left to think fatally; but they <i>will</i> think, and
+your killing them will not prove your ideas right."</p>
+<p>"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know
+that is what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I
+asked, thinking to touch a tender spot.</p>
+<p>"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many
+a Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea
+would have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once;
+but the idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with
+the South knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge
+concerning principle was involved, instead of massacre according to
+the John Brown idiocy, a great amelioration in the condition of the
+slave would have begun immediately. The South, would have gradually
+liberated the slaves."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from
+perfection."</p>
+<p>"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to
+have ideals, and strive to reach them."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship
+Point, and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the
+next day I rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me
+coming. The good fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and
+generous. We soon went off for a private chat.</p>
+<p>"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he
+asked.</p>
+<p>"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp
+was never moved once; what have you been doing?"</p>
+<p>"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to
+come. Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"</p>
+<p>"What new drill?"</p>
+<p>"Hardee."</p>
+<p>"You don't say!"</p>
+<p>"Fact. Whole division."</p>
+<p>"Do you like it better?"</p>
+<p>"Believe I do."</p>
+<p>"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough
+to do of another sort."</p>
+<p>Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the
+manual of arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is
+carried in the right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted
+for Scott's, which provides for the shoulder on the left side.
+There was no actual drill, however, and my clumsy
+performance--clumsy compared with that of the other men of the
+company who had become accustomed to the change--was limited to but
+little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants because of my
+inexperience.</p>
+<p>I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not
+expect him to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of
+her; and I did not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him
+information concerning the young lady. He asked me about Dr.
+Khayme, however, and thus gave me the chance to let him know that
+the Doctor himself would move his quarters to the rear of our
+lines, but that his daughter would remain at the hospital at
+Newport News until the army should advance beyond Yorktown.</p>
+<p>And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of
+Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and
+frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost
+every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on
+the picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood
+the hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have
+endured much more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been
+completely upset; he had said that we should take Yorktown in a
+week and pursue the routed rebels into Richmond, and now we were
+doing but little--so far as we could see--to bring matters to a
+conclusion. The artillery of the rebels played on our lines; and
+our guns replied; the pickets, too, were frequently busy popping
+away at each other, and occasionally hitting their marks. Ever
+since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great quantities of
+lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though Dr. Khayme
+maintained that the waste became a crime when men were killed,--I
+have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words
+"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles,
+and about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than
+could be set down in a column of figures as long as the equator.
+From April 13 to May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac
+before Yorktown did not reach half of one per cent. The men learned
+speedily to dodge shells, and I remember hearing one man say that
+he dodged a bullet. He saw a black spot seemingly stationary, and
+knew at once that the thing was coming in a straight line for his
+eye. The story was swallowed, but I think nobody believed it,
+except the hero thereof, who was a good soldier, however, and
+ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who is supremely
+interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my part, it
+was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired one. I
+dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a
+cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under
+cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing
+sometimes to hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way,"
+at the smoke of a gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no
+sound of a shell would follow, the missile having gone into the
+woods half a mile to our right or left.</p>
+<p>I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had
+in its ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant,
+I never saw him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead
+a picket squad into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the
+skirmish detail in place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and
+laugh, and swear, in everything he was simply superb. That I do not
+quote his cuss-words must not be taken as an indication, that they
+were commonplace. Everything he did he did with his might, almost
+violently. He was a good shot, too, within the range of the
+smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of them--seemed to be better
+armed than we were; it was said that they had received some cargoes
+of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range, according to the
+marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by blockade-runners.
+They could keep us down behind the pits while they would walk about
+as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries was flung
+at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been
+studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over
+the fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his
+temper got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one
+day when he was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit;
+Willis's bullet would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the
+Enfield Mini&eacute; ball would go a-kiting over our heads and
+making men far to our rear look out. Sometimes Willis was very
+gloomy, and I attributed this condition to his passion for Lydia,
+though, on such a subject he never opened his mouth to me.</p>
+<p>One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I
+were both on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty,
+and Willis was the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been
+skirmishing on this part of the line the preceding day, but at
+sunset, or the hour for sunset if the weather had been fair, the
+firing had ceased as we marched up and relieved the old pickets. We
+were in the woods, the most of us, but just here, on the right of
+our own detail, there were a few rifle-pits in the open, the
+opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four hundred yards apart,
+and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at night--being
+about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always composed of
+three men for each post. We found our three men numb with, cold,
+two lying near the edge o&pound; the woods, in a big hole made by a
+shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard
+nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds
+reflected the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long
+till day. The two men, my companions on post, whispered together,
+and then proposed that I should take the first watch. Willis had
+returned to the line with the relieved vedettes. I had no
+objection to taking the first watch, yet I hesitated, simply
+because the two men had whispered. I fancied there was some reason
+for the request, and I asked bluntly why they had decided it was my
+turn without giving me a voice in the matter. You know it is the
+custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man volunteers
+for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends, and
+that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from
+various companies, they preferred lying together.</p>
+<p>This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason
+that in two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and
+they lay down in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle,
+for fear of some sudden volley from the rebels.</p>
+<p>The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the
+left oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near
+to a tree which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy
+pine of second growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with
+its limbs starting from the trunk as low as eight feet from the
+ground. I stood near this tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our
+nearest vedette posts, right and left, were a hundred yards from
+me--the one on the left being in the woods, that on the right in
+the open. The country called the Peninsula is low and flat and very
+swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of rain that had now
+fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a loblolly, to
+use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about thirty
+yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it was
+possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this
+ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture
+us; such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by
+the rebels, but by many other people at war.</p>
+<p>Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line
+about three hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette
+posts nobody knew where, for they used similar economy to ours in
+withdrawing their vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of
+which I can but barely mention, had opened my eyes a little to the
+possibility of accurate inferences, that is to say, his philosophy
+of cause and effect, or purpose, as he liked better to call it, had
+been urged upon me so frequently and so profoundly that I had
+become more observant; he had made me think of the relations of
+things. Philosophy, he had said, should be carried into everyday
+life and into the smallest matters; that was what made a good
+fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a good soldier,
+provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This ravine,
+then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented
+opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods,
+make prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there
+would be a gap through which our skirmish line might be
+surprised.</p>
+<p>I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood
+near the ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the
+darkness. It did not extend into the forest, for the roots of the
+trees there protected the soil from washing away. The undergrowth
+at my left was not very dense; I judged that in daylight one could
+see into the forest a hundred yards or more. At my right, the gully
+began and seemed to widen and deepen as it went, but nothing
+definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.</p>
+<p>My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was
+really transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more
+forward place but thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in
+less than a minute.</p>
+<p>The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my
+short absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I
+would not like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt
+that I had done right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically
+speaking, but only to take a proper precaution, in regard to the
+post itself. Then, what is a man's post? Merely the ground with
+which the soles of his feet are in touch? If he may move an inch,
+how far may he move? Yet I was glad that the men had not seen me
+move and come back, and I was glad, too, that they had made the
+proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had discovered
+danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now for
+one of these men to take my place.</p>
+<p>My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious
+of any new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do
+something.</p>
+<p>I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.</p>
+<p>"Who stands watch next?"</p>
+<p>"Me. But it's not time yet."</p>
+<p>"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back
+to the line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a
+minute."</p>
+<p>"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."</p>
+<p>"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said
+I.</p>
+<p>The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said,
+"What is it you say I'm to tell him?"</p>
+<p>The other man also had risen.</p>
+<p>"Only that I want to see him."</p>
+<p>"Anything wrong?"</p>
+<p>"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is
+all."</p>
+<p>The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become
+alarmed, perhaps.</p>
+<p>When Willis came I was under the tree.</p>
+<p>"What's up, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."</p>
+<p>"It's a gully," says he.</p>
+<p>"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our
+post ought to be where we can see into it."</p>
+<p>"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."</p>
+<p>I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any
+intimation to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were
+standing near me.</p>
+<p>In two minutes Willis returned.</p>
+<p>"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where
+you are."</p>
+<p>We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the
+ravine.</p>
+<p>"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to
+be here."</p>
+<p>"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise
+us. This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."</p>
+<p>The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
+thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.</p>
+<p>"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know
+what that noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."</p>
+<p>"Let's have it."</p>
+<p>"We can get lots of fun out here."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"</p>
+<p>"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a
+word to them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be
+mum now, old man."</p>
+<p>"Tell me what you mean."</p>
+<p>But he had already started back.</p>
+<p>It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking;
+yet the weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I
+knew that in all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would
+prolong the duty of the vedettes and make another relief
+necessary.</p>
+<p>When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good
+men of Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on
+back to the line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."</p>
+<p>When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way
+back a short distance and into the edge of the woods.</p>
+<p>"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine.
+We want to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or
+something to screen them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so
+beyond the gully till I whistle for you, or call you. The rest of
+us will do the work while you watch."</p>
+<p>The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear
+enough. One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that
+others seemed to have come up in no light marching order. Willis
+meant to occupy the ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in
+this advanced post, so near the rebels that his bullets would not
+fall short. It was all clear enough.</p>
+<p>The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing
+Thompson, I skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or
+forty yards to my right oblique in the open, and then lay flat,
+with my eyes to the front. Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me;
+the men were filling the sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck
+became stiff. No sound reached me from the front; I supposed that
+the nearest rebel vedette was not nearer than two hundred yards,
+unless at a point more advanced from his lines there was some
+natural protection for him. But what prevented my being surprised
+from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened my neck; light
+was beginning to show.</p>
+<p>At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call
+twice. The ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself
+almost impregnable against an equal force of skirmishers. Just
+where an angle in the western edge presented a flank of wall toward
+the north, Willis and his gang had cut away the earth into a shelf
+some three feet beneath the top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth
+surmounted the summit, with open spaces between, in order that a
+musket might be fired through, these handy port-holes, and the
+sand-bags were covered with sedge from the open field. I
+congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.</p>
+<p>The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could
+yet see neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and
+reserved the centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be
+about two feet nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was
+manned by Freeman, Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.</p>
+<p>"Men, attention!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Take the caps off of your pieces!"</p>
+<p>The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis
+condescended to explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as
+Act First; that any man who should yield to the temptation to fire
+without orders, was to be sent back to the line at once.</p>
+<p>Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a
+bullet whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel
+side.</p>
+<p>"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>Everybody had rushed to his place.</p>
+<p>"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.</p>
+<p>We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.</p>
+<p>"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.</p>
+<p>The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.</p>
+<p>"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.</p>
+<p>Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line
+in the rear.</p>
+<p>The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from
+one to another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our
+heads from the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade
+from both sides continued.</p>
+<p>Willis was at the parapet.</p>
+<p>"Look out!" he cries.</p>
+<p>A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets
+from the rebels.</p>
+<p>"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible
+three hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits.
+Our skirmish line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired
+not at us but at our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had
+been but the supplement of the artillery fire--all for the purpose
+of getting full command of our line, on which not a man now dared
+to show his head, for a dozen Mini&eacute; balls would go for it at
+the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had not detected our little
+squad.</p>
+<p>"Prime, men!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>The guns were capped.</p>
+<p>"Now, hold your fire till the word!"</p>
+<p>Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all
+their own way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their
+waists could be seen; some of them began to walk about a little,
+for they were not in any sort of danger, that is, from our line.
+They were firing with a system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then
+in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and so on down their line, merely to
+keep the advantage they had gained. At irregular intervals two or
+three shots would be sent at some dummy--a hat or coat held up by
+the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.</p>
+<p>"<i>Ready!</i>" says Willis.</p>
+<p>Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another
+joined them.</p>
+<p>"<i>Aim! Fire!</i>"</p>
+<p>Five triggers were pulled.</p>
+<p>"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable
+oath, than any I ever saw in print.</p>
+<p>The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my
+way; I had been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly
+see anything. Put yourself in a hole, and raise your head until
+your eyes are an inch, or two above the surface of ground almost
+level--what can you see? But for a slight depression between us and
+the rebels, the position would have been worthless; yet every evil,
+according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or good side--our fortress
+was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it, if they saw it at
+all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective mingling our
+small elevation with the greater ones beyond.</p>
+<p>We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight
+feet deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a
+rattle of firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had
+taken advantage of the diversion brought, and had turned the
+tables; not a shot was coming from the front.</p>
+<p>Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight,"
+he said.</p>
+<p>Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were
+doing nothing, and were nervously expectant.</p>
+<p>Holt wished for a pack of cards.</p>
+<p>A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a
+gang of rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were
+but sixty yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line
+could protect us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of
+'em before they could git to us." To this Thompson replied that if
+the rebels should again get the upper hand, and make our men afraid
+to show their heads, the rebels could come on us from the woods
+without great danger. Willis admitted that Thompson had reason, but
+did not think the rebels had yet found us out; at any rate, they
+would be afraid to come so near our strong skirmish-line; so for
+his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the right was the place
+of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the rebels might
+sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we were
+here.</p>
+<p>Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the
+front was heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us
+became silent.</p>
+<p>We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its
+port-hole.</p>
+<p>"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have
+another chance like that. Take it in order from right to left.
+Berwick first. Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a
+head--"</p>
+<p>I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that
+my shot missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides
+pegged away for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his
+man.</p>
+<p>Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of
+the bags between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and
+into the wall of the ravine behind us. Willis fired.</p>
+<p>"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."</p>
+<p>Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and
+then Freeman, and it became my turn again.</p>
+<p>That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and
+buried itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not
+believe that an ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted
+whether an Enfield had it. The rebels were getting good arms from
+England. It might be that some man over there had a Whitworth
+telescope rifle; if so he had detected us perhaps--a telescope
+would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this speculation, but
+watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a man as low as
+his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag was
+struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
+which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
+bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the
+wall of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.</p>
+<p>"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.</p>
+<p>"I'll report directly, Sergeant."</p>
+<p>I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a
+long, leaden cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than
+calibre 45 I guessed. This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to
+Willis; he understood.</p>
+<p>"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."</p>
+<p>The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth
+over there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers
+where we were posted; then we should be a target for their whole
+line, and at three hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our
+sand-bags and make us lie low.</p>
+<p>Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched
+on the cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated,
+the others fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.</p>
+<p>Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our
+fun.</p>
+<p>Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that
+we had done more damage than we had received, and should receive;
+that all we had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm
+should pass; the rebels would think that we were gone and would
+cease wasting their ammunition; then we could have more fun.</p>
+<p>Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so
+said Thompson, and so said Freeman.</p>
+<p>My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this
+moment retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge
+of the woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not
+killed; it was doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for
+the rebels, if they had any sense, were prepared to see us run out,
+and would throw a hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again
+get the upper hand of the rebels, then we could get out easily; if
+not, we must stay here till night. We had done all that could be
+done--had done well, and we must not risk loss without a purpose;
+we must protect ourselves; let the rebels waste their powder--the
+more they wasted, the better. The only real danger was that the
+rebels might advance; but even if they did, they could not get at
+us without coming to blows with our line--the ravine protected our
+line from their charge. It was our business to stay where we were
+and to keep a sharp lookout.</p>
+<p>So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we
+should keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at
+the bottom of the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.</p>
+<p>The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below
+the level of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to
+the porthole. Freeman began, taking off his coat.</p>
+<p>"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.</p>
+<p>"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.</p>
+<p>He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat
+above on a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards,
+faced us, raised his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was
+the first dummy that the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at
+any rate their whole force was at once busy; the fire rolled from
+left to right far down the line, yet when Freeman examined his
+garments he found that neither hat nor coat had been struck.</p>
+<p>"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want
+to."</p>
+<p>Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must
+make some effort to keep awake.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a
+little, and see what's there."</p>
+<p>"All right, Jones; but don't go far."</p>
+<p>I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward
+our line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned
+toward the left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the
+left, running for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running
+straight toward the rebels. I came back and reported.</p>
+<p>"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We
+must keep two sentinels on post now."</p>
+<p>Thompson was posted at the bend.</p>
+<p>It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the
+gully; they could not know how small was our force; if they should
+march a company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to
+capture by a sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable,
+however, that a few men would try to sneak up in order to see how
+many we were; yet even this supposition was not necessary, for the
+rebels were having everything their own way, and need risk nothing.
+So I decided in my own mind to be as patient as possible until
+dark.</p>
+<p>The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional
+Whitworth bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we
+could not hear the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer
+seen. What were they planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could
+find a means for communicating with our friends in the rear; if
+they would open fire again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was
+best to be quiet until dark.</p>
+<p>I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at
+the bend. Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot;
+our game had been blocked. The notion now came to me that if the
+rebels wanted us, the way to get us would be to send men up the
+ravine just before dark, and at the same time for a squad of them
+to steal through the woods to our left, where they would be ready
+for us when we should steal out.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant!"</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"Think we'd better get back."</p>
+<p>"What's the matter now?"</p>
+<p>"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."</p>
+<p>"Fact, by--!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here
+to tell you how to do it."</p>
+<p>"Le's have it," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Make a big smoke!"</p>
+<p>Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt,
+down at the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the
+ravine. Our knives and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big
+heap of green boughs and sprigs. It would take work to touch her
+off, for there was no dry wood; but we managed by finding the
+remains of cartridge papers and using a free supply of gunpowder.
+When all was ready, Holt was recalled, and the match was
+struck.</p>
+<p>"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a
+partin' salute."</p>
+<p>The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately
+peeping to the front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At
+last she caught, and a thin column of black smoke began to
+ascend.</p>
+<p>"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up
+to."</p>
+<p>A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us,
+or by us at them.</p>
+<p>The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it
+away from the woods.</p>
+<p>"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort
+Willis should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention
+had been so fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the
+universe had become a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder
+almost overhead startled the defenders of the redoubt. Without our
+knowledge a storm had rolled up from the Atlantic; the rain was
+beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops, already obscuring our
+vision.</p>
+<p>"<i>Fire!</i>" shouted Willis.</p>
+<p>The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to
+the skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's
+making.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XII"></a>XII</h2>
+<h3>MORE ACTIVE SERVICE</h3>
+<center>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do but start<br>
+An echo with the clamour of thy drum,<br>
+And even at hand a drum is ready braced<br>
+That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were
+heard in the direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the
+light of great fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be
+ready to march, but the morning wore away, and it was almost two
+o'clock before the long roll beat. At length we moved with the
+column, already unnerved by long-continued expectation, westward
+upon the Williamsburg road.</p>
+<p>Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told
+you so."</p>
+<p>Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he
+kept on predicting till the rain came.</p>
+<p>The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up
+by the retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of
+us.</p>
+<p>Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had
+come into our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking
+our way. We rested. About dark our head of column was turned back
+and we countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted
+again, where, I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn
+out when orders were given that the men should lie on their arms,
+but that they should otherwise make themselves as comfortable as
+they could. Rain was falling, the night was black, comfort was
+impossible. I suppose I got two or three hours' sleep. At daylight
+the march was again taken up; in an hour or two we halted and
+formed line with skirmishers in front; it was still raining.</p>
+<p>We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank,
+through the woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers
+deployed in advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets
+flew amongst us. We continued to advance until we reached the edge
+of the woods; the line had not yet fired a shot.</p>
+<p>The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we
+became visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the
+timber at our ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We
+lay there for something like two hours; then we moved to the
+rear,--only our regiment, I think,--fronted again, and marched to
+the right for perhaps a mile through the woods. Willis said that we
+were seeking any enemy that might be in the woods; but he aroused
+no interest; nobody either approved or seemed to doubt Willis's
+interpretation of the movement; we did not know what the generals
+were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and hungry and
+wet.</p>
+<p>By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position
+near the felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile
+batteries to fire upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the
+rear. I noticed that our company seemed small; perhaps a few had
+been wounded; certainly many had fallen out of ranks, unable longer
+to endure.</p>
+<p>About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time
+through the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the
+roar of musketry ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen
+running in every direction except one. We moved on in line, without
+skirmishers. The straggling men increased in numbers, and many
+wounded went past us, the ambulance corps working busily here in
+the dense wet forest. The yells of the rebels were plainly heard,
+and all eyes were strained to catch sight of what was already but
+too well known. Every moment was an hour.</p>
+<p>Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line
+staggered to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as
+he could--firing at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could
+be heard in the smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution
+in our own strife, there could be faintly heard the noise of battle
+to our right, far and near to our right.</p>
+<p>Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to
+the left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers
+cried, "They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that
+line, men! They are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in
+convincing most of us that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are
+flanked!" "Look out!" "Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the
+whole crowd of us were running with all our legs. I reached a road
+that ran across the line of my flight; it was full of everything:
+troops in good order, stragglers breaking through them, wounded
+lying down, dead flat on their backs, artillery horses in their
+traces, ambulances.</p>
+<p>So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops
+had relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and
+the battle soon ended on the whole line.</p>
+<p>With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the
+woods; the rain kept on.</p>
+<p>I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered
+a victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we
+had won it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the
+battle. The rebels fought this partial engagement only for the
+purpose, I think, of securing the retreat of their army and trains;
+we fought for the purpose of preventing the retreat. I have learned
+that our right wing had better success than we had on the left; but
+for all that, the enemy got away unbroken, and his purpose was
+accomplished. In the days of those early battles, even the falling
+back of the rebel pickets before a line of our skirmishers was
+telegraphed to Washington as a victory.</p>
+<p>We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small.
+Willis's remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring
+much comfort; even his assertion, that they would again retreat and
+that the morning would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm.
+The men were dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought
+hard and had endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they
+were physically exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody
+had blundered in putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place.
+I have always been proud that none of our men deserted on the night
+of the Williamsburg battle.</p>
+<p>No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down.
+My gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top;
+this was our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and
+gum-blanket. The night was warm enough, and our covering was needed
+only as some protection against the rain. I was soon asleep, but
+awake again as soon. About ten o'clock I felt a hand on my
+shoulder. Rising, I saw our orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by
+him. I was ordered to report at General Grover's headquarters. The
+general had sent an orderly, who could not or would not tell why I
+was wanted.</p>
+<p>General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers,
+surrounding a dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a
+large tree; horses were tied near by to the branches of trees.</p>
+<p>The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.</p>
+<p>The general came toward me; I saluted.</p>
+<p>"Your name," said he.</p>
+<p>"Private Jones Berwick."</p>
+<p>"Your regiment."</p>
+<p>"Eleventh."</p>
+<p>"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."</p>
+<p>I bowed.</p>
+<p>"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"</p>
+<p>"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after
+danger," said I.</p>
+<p>"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."</p>
+<p>He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers
+scattering.</p>
+<p>"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must
+send a man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."</p>
+<p>"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going
+should not be allowed to go."</p>
+<p>"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me
+decline."</p>
+<p>"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall
+lose nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do
+your duty well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."</p>
+<p>"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let
+me show you."</p>
+<p>He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an
+officer stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and
+placed the lantern near the blanket.</p>
+<p>"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.</p>
+<p>The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on
+the blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.</p>
+<p>"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil;
+"you see our line here, running north and south."</p>
+<p>"Which is north?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over
+here, or were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this
+branch, in part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get
+across the branch, and go on through the woods until you come to
+this road, which you see running north and south. You need not go
+across this road. All I want you to do is to observe this road
+until day."</p>
+<p>"Is the road in the woods, General?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble
+whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the
+road," said he.</p>
+<p>"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall
+I do?"</p>
+<p>"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their
+vedettes near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to
+the road. If they are on this side of the road, but so near the
+road that you can observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with
+as little risk to yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on
+the road, you must come back to the picket-line and report, and
+then return to your post of observation."</p>
+<p>"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and
+our picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to
+supply one."</p>
+<p>"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this
+side of the road."</p>
+<p>"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night.
+Take your own way to do it, but the road must be observed."</p>
+<p>"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"</p>
+<p>"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred
+yards," said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of
+paper."</p>
+<p>"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the
+other brigades, General?"</p>
+<p>"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will
+hardly find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do
+our duty for us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision
+such as you speak of."</p>
+<p>"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"</p>
+<p>"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you
+through. I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."</p>
+<p>"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't
+find you when I get back."</p>
+<p>"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get
+back to us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that
+relieve them about you."</p>
+<p>"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through
+the other man. Is everything clear to you now?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General; I think so."</p>
+<p>"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten
+minutes."</p>
+<p>I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed,
+and I was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as
+much consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that
+I should run against one of them in the darkness. I put my
+gum-blanket over me, committed my knapsack and other things to
+Willis's keeping; and was back with the general.</p>
+<p>We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the
+general had shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief
+conversation took place between the general and Captain Brown of
+the picket-line. The captain chose a man, and told him to follow me
+and to obey my orders.</p>
+<p>Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of
+yourself, my man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you
+report any movement on that road." I began to assure him that I
+would do all that I could, but I found that he had already started
+back to the brigade.</p>
+<p>I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when
+I should return. The low call went right and left along the
+line,--"Two of our men going to the front!"</p>
+<p>"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.</p>
+<p>"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are
+only thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour
+ago."</p>
+<p>I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern,
+which his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or
+more, that the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two
+men to every five paces, and that every man was standing in his
+place, gun in hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their
+faces to the front. There were no picket fires.</p>
+<p>"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"</p>
+<p>"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new
+men in half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for
+such duty. The new men will be advised that you are still in front.
+Are you ready?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Come."</p>
+<p>The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the
+detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The
+captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to
+the picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I
+say observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch
+it. I asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the
+picket-line; while he was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette.
+He had heard nothing in his front, except that now and then there
+seemed to come to him, from far away, an indistinct rumble; he had
+seen nothing in the black night except trees but little blacker.
+The rain was a thick drizzle.</p>
+<p>I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard
+anything in his front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the
+vedettes had orders not to fire, but to retire at once on the
+picket-line in case of a silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar
+order, which at a later time I heard given again under somewhat
+similar circumstances, was no doubt a wise one. A secret advance of
+the enemy's skirmishers would have been precipitated into a charge
+by the fire of the vedette, whereas his secret retreat to his line
+would prepare the pickets to surprise the surprisers.</p>
+<p>And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods
+were so dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to
+see ahead of me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I
+supposed that the branch which I was to cross was but a very short
+distance in front. I had no fear that I should find enemies this
+side of the branch; the great probability was that their vedettes
+were posted on the farther bank of the stream. When I had gone not
+more than thirty yards, I felt that the ground sloped downward
+before me, and I judged that the branch was very near. I paused.
+There was not a sound except that made by the fall of heavy drops
+of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes, trying
+to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could
+not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a
+low whisper if he could see at all.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you
+stand."</p>
+<p>I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that
+the branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little
+more light. He whispered back that there was, he thought, more
+light in our front than there had been before. I now tried to
+discern this new light, and could not at first, but after a little
+while it did seem to me that just ahead there was a dim gray
+streak.</p>
+<p>I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and
+I felt my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a
+step back, and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward,
+holding Allen's hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to
+do so. We went back again, some three steps, until I was out of the
+water.</p>
+<p>Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were
+hand-in-hand. He whispered, "It is ten steps wide."</p>
+<p>"Can you see across it?"</p>
+<p>"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."</p>
+<p>In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt
+myself in a more critical place. The opposite side of the branch
+was an ideal position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be
+there if anywhere in these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might
+have neglected their opportunity; besides, their line might be bent
+back here; their vedettes might be on the branch farther to our
+right, and <i>here</i> might be anywhere in its rear; we did not
+know where the rebel right rested. Of one thing I felt sure--the
+rebels did not intend to advance on this night, for in that case
+they would have had their vedettes, and their pickets also, if
+possible, on our side of the branch.</p>
+<p>The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If
+vedettes were on it, it was just within the possible that I might
+pass between two of them.</p>
+<p>I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one,
+which he put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat,
+lest my foot should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused
+utter failure, if not our capture.</p>
+<p>We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the
+stick seemed to sink into soft mud.</p>
+<p>I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to
+my knees in water.</p>
+<p>I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.</p>
+<p>Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under
+my feet. I thought I had reached the middle.</p>
+<p>I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same
+monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.</p>
+<p>We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed
+steep. By feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed
+Allen's hand from my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the
+water below me.</p>
+<p>I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily
+tell that there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be
+surrounded by a dense, low thicket. What was in this thicket?
+Likely the rebel vedettes and pickets.</p>
+<p>My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel
+the smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying
+there, but not entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the
+splintered middle of the tree, still holding. I at once knew that I
+was in the midst of felled timber,--on the edge of a slashing or
+entanglement.</p>
+<p>Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely,
+unless there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the
+strip of timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just
+in rear of it; perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the
+branch, and in order to impede and expose to hearing any enemy that
+might succeed in crossing the branch. But, in that case, would not
+the timber be a protection rather than a hindrance to the enemy
+advancing or stealing forward? Yes, unless the vedettes were just
+in rear of this very narrow strip, or unless the rebel
+intrenchments were in easy musket range.</p>
+<p>These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with
+Allen below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber
+there might be capture, or death, or there might be no danger
+whatever. I was beginning to hope that there was no vedette or
+picket-line in these woods.</p>
+<p>Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward;
+after having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused
+and listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and,
+giving him my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went
+forward until I supposed we were near the spot to which I had
+previously advanced. Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept
+on again, and again returned to him; then both went forward as
+before. On this second stage of our approach we passed through to
+the farther side of the felled timber.</p>
+<p>We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every
+moment lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's
+works ought to be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis
+without intrenchments was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to
+find the intrenchments deserted.</p>
+<p>The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We
+had used up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of
+less than two hundred yards.</p>
+<p>I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with
+Allen forward--until at length I reached a road running across my
+line of progress.</p>
+<p>After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down
+on my hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell
+with my hands that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I
+supposed were horses' tracks, but it was impossible for me to know
+which way the tracks headed.</p>
+<p>Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or
+forty yards, and found nothing.</p>
+<p>Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do
+you think that skirt of felled timber means?"</p>
+<p>"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.</p>
+<p>"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there
+is nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel
+left in these woods."</p>
+<p>"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
+fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."</p>
+<p>"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough
+its purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being
+seen."</p>
+<p>"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."</p>
+<p>I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the
+approach to a rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear
+many noises. The only thing I now feared was some scouting
+party.</p>
+<p>It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired
+upon, I decided that we must learn which way the movement on the
+road had been. I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a
+match near the ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked
+with all our eyes, moving the match back and forth over the road.
+The tracks all headed to our right.</p>
+<p>Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the
+road.</p>
+<p>"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."</p>
+<p>"Where are you going?"</p>
+<p>"Through the woods."</p>
+<p>"How long will you be gone?"</p>
+<p>"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you
+must return to the pickets and report that there has already been a
+considerable movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I
+feel certain that there are no rebels in these woods. They were
+here, but they have gone. I want to get to the open ground and see
+what is there; it will not take long."</p>
+<p>"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this
+spot," said he.</p>
+<p>"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is
+nobody in these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."</p>
+<p>"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are
+better than one."</p>
+<p>"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to
+both of us out there, and neither of us be able to report to
+General Grover. Stay where you are."</p>
+<p>I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be
+able to turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods
+became more open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see
+much better. I reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few
+stars were shining between broken clouds near the horizon in front
+of me--west, I thought. Toward the north, and northwest the clouds
+reflected some distant light, and had a reddish glow. I could
+distinctly hear the sounds of great movements, the rumblings of
+wagon, trains or artillery. The ground seemed open before me for a
+long distance.</p>
+<p>I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet
+me.</p>
+<p>"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over.
+Go back to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General
+Grover that the road shows clearly that the rebels have already
+moved along it to their left, our right; and that there is nobody
+here, all gone; gone to our right, their left, and that I have been
+entirely through the woods, and have found nothing, but that to the
+northwest there are the sounds of great movements, and that I am
+going to see if I cannot find out more."</p>
+<p>"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I
+doubt if I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear
+in this place."</p>
+<p>Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two
+o'clock, I thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about
+me. I passed rapidly through the woods again and into the open
+ground, climbing a rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that
+rose before me, an "old field," or abandoned farm, which was
+scattered over here and there with clumps of stunted growth. Once I
+paused in terror. A bush had taken, to my fancy, the form of a man.
+The illusion lasted but for a moment.</p>
+<p>When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could
+see many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them
+stationary. The sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear
+shouts, like those of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch
+the command to close up.</p>
+<p>I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was
+difficult to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red
+glare I could distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were
+rebels in line before me, I should be able to see them before they
+could see me, so I went on without great fear, and crept to the top
+of this second swell of the ground.</p>
+<p>Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating.
+The road was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires
+were burning on both sides of the road; men and wagons were
+hurrying westward. Almost in front of me was a cluster of houses,
+which I took to be Williamsburg; fires were burning in the streets;
+a great throng was passing on west between the fires and between
+the houses. I had little doubt that I could mingle, without great
+danger, with the rebels, seeing that my gum-blanket would hide my
+uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought was rejected,
+however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew enough
+already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than I
+now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly
+delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried
+toward our pickets.</p>
+<p>When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had
+been advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made
+my report to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who
+mounted and rode off in haste.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was
+Willis. Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis
+was bubbling over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a
+high horse; the rebels would make no further stand until they
+reached Richmond; he doubted if they would attempt to defend
+Richmond, even. His spirits were contagious; he did good although
+he was ludicrous. What would Dr. Khayme have said of Willis's
+influence? I supposed that the Doctor would have used the sergeant
+as an illustration of his doctrine that there is nothing
+unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.</p>
+<p>The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but
+a short distance, and bivouacked.</p>
+<p>About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to
+Colonel Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had
+never before been individually in his presence. I wondered what it
+meant, and hastened to his headquarters.</p>
+<p>I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.</p>
+<p>"You are Private Berwick?" he said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"What have you been doing?"</p>
+<p>"In what respect, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff,
+but his eye and mouth belied his voice.</p>
+<p>"Here," said he; "take this and read it."</p>
+<p>I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D,
+Eleventh Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further
+orders, from duty with his company, and will hold himself ready for
+special service when ordered."</p>
+<p>This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by
+General Grover.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>XIII</h2>
+<br>
+<p>JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE</p>
+<center>"Take all the swift advantage of the
+hours."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I
+was again aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to
+the adjutant of the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of
+General Grover's order relieving me from regular duty--in fact had
+himself written the order by command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had
+been asked to issue it by our brigade commander. The adjutant also
+told me that I should still get rations through Company D, but that
+I was free to go and come when not on special duty, and that I was
+expected to keep him advised of my goings, so that I could be found
+when wanted. "For the rest," said he, "you will do much as you
+wish, especially when the brigade is in reserve, as it is to-day,
+and as it is likely to be for a good many days to come. Your
+services to be required at long intervals will make up, it is
+hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."</p>
+<p>I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on
+the right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the
+battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over
+which Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the
+rebels had here suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in
+places, although details of men had long been busy in burying the
+slain of both armies.</p>
+<p>At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed
+wrong more than once. No one was there except a white servant; he
+told me that the Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had
+been busy the whole of the preceding day and night in relieving the
+wounded; that he had taken no sleep at all. "I don't see how the
+Doctor stands what he goes through," said the man. "Yesterday the
+whole day long he was in the thick of it; he was in as great danger
+as the troops were; lots more than some of 'em. He said that the
+rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but for my part I wouldn't trust
+one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull by the tail; and him a
+tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."</p>
+<p>This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of
+danger. At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the
+wounded as they fell. I supposed that there was no use
+expostulating with a man who so firmly believed in the peculiar
+doctrines of his philosophy.</p>
+<p>About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.</p>
+<p>"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you
+think you are going to stay with me several days?"</p>
+<p>"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this
+side of the Chickahominy."</p>
+<p>"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.</p>
+<p>"You will know."</p>
+<p>"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"</p>
+<p>"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on
+special duty not to be demanded for some time."</p>
+<p>"You know about my case?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such
+arduous labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and
+his mental power were to me matters for astonishment equally
+great.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You
+need rest and sleep."</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I
+sleep; just now I want supper."</p>
+<p>After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a
+camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other
+man in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his
+eyes filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in
+perfect repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.</p>
+<p>I asked about Lydia.</p>
+<p>"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with
+me, but I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton
+until the army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do
+before you have any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for
+her yet."</p>
+<p>"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can
+come to me when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we
+shall not demand her services here. But now tell me all about your
+last night's experience."</p>
+<p>When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be
+called on to do more of such work."</p>
+<p>"I suppose so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you like it?"</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I
+shall not object if I can accomplish anything."</p>
+<p>"You have accomplished something each time that you have been
+sent out. You have at least furnished strong corroborative
+evidence, sufficiently strong to induce action on the part of your
+generals."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."</p>
+<p>"Are you sleepy?"</p>
+<p>"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the
+afternoon."</p>
+<p>"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given
+unto man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of
+last night you will incur little risk."</p>
+<p>"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you
+will be in less danger, and you will accomplish more."</p>
+<p>"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"You should always do such work unarmed."</p>
+<p>"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances
+only, and a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be
+silent."</p>
+<p>"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor;
+"you will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives
+will be safer from you."</p>
+<p>"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"</p>
+<p>"And be a spy, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not
+in them."</p>
+<p>"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message
+addressed:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRIVATE BERWICK,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>On detached service,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At Sanitary Camp,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Rear of
+General Hancock's division</i>.</blockquote>
+<p>"Who gave you this?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a
+horseman with two horses."</p>
+<p>"Is he waiting?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity;
+the thought went through my mind that he already knew or
+suspected.</p>
+<p>There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which
+contained only the countersigns for the past five days, and an
+order from General Hooker.</p>
+<p>The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had
+influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I
+could merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read
+the order thoroughly three times, learned by heart the
+countersigns, impressed the map on my mind, and then destroyed the
+three papers in accordance with an express injunction comprised in
+the order itself. This mental work took some minutes, during which
+the Doctor sat impassive.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I must go."</p>
+<p>"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose
+you are on secret service."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor,"</p>
+<p>"Can I help in any way?"</p>
+<p>"Please let me have that gray suit."</p>
+<p>He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.</p>
+<p>"Anything else, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I shall need food."</p>
+<p>"How will you carry it?"</p>
+<p>"In my pockets. Bread will do."</p>
+<p>"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that
+you shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."</p>
+<p>He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or
+pocket; this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I
+wanted.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."</p>
+<p>"I am not in this army," he said.</p>
+<p>The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.</p>
+<p>"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to
+get back in two or three days."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was
+gone.</p>
+<p>Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."</p>
+<p>"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; I suppose not."</p>
+<p>"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and
+that I begin work at once."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and
+rode toward the east.</p>
+<p>My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to
+communicate with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought
+to have landed on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House
+for the purpose of cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The
+earliest possible delivery of my message was strenuously required,
+my orders even going so far as to include reasons for despatch. The
+retreating enemy were almost between us and Franklin, and he must
+be notified to attack and delay them at every hazard, and must be
+informed if possible by what road he should advance in order to cut
+off their retreat; it was added that, upon landing, General
+Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel army, and
+would depend upon information being brought to him by some one of
+the messengers sent him on this night.</p>
+<p>My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging
+from the map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the
+six miles in less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts
+I had no trouble.</p>
+<p>"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.</p>
+<p>"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.</p>
+<p>"Who is he?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know. Horse black."</p>
+<p>"Going fast?"</p>
+<p>"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' <i>to</i>
+hell, too, if he don't mind how he rides."</p>
+<p>It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty
+miles ahead of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that
+circumspection was worth more than haste--let the black horse go
+on.</p>
+<p>"Where are the rebels?"</p>
+<p>"A mile in front when dark came."</p>
+<p>"Infantry?"</p>
+<p>"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't
+know which."</p>
+<p>"Please describe their position."</p>
+<p>"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up
+across the road--a mile out there," pointing.</p>
+<p>"In the woods?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Captain--"</p>
+<p>"No, only lieutenant."</p>
+<p>"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me
+to the point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"</p>
+<p>As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but
+he knew nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or
+infantry, whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how
+many they were. The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road
+muffled the sounds of the horses' hoofs; no noise came from front
+or rear. The way was through the woods; in little more than half a
+mile open ground was seen ahead. Johnson stopped; so did I.</p>
+<p>"They are on the other side of the field," said he,</p>
+<p>"How wide is the field?"</p>
+<p>"A quarter, I guess."</p>
+<p>"What was planted in the field last year?"</p>
+<p>"Corn."</p>
+<p>"Stalks still standing?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, but they are very small."</p>
+<p>"Does the road run between fences?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"How far does the field extend to our right?"</p>
+<p>"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."</p>
+<p>"And to our left?"</p>
+<p>"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."</p>
+<p>"Any houses?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."</p>
+<p>"A farmhouse?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."</p>
+<p>"Which side of the road?"</p>
+<p>"The left."</p>
+<p>Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.</p>
+<p>How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival
+at Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it
+might mean success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at
+nightfall, I should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if
+they were yet yonder in the woods on the other side of the field,
+they would capture me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the
+safe course, or the possible speedy course? I took the safe course.
+Dismounting I tied my horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward
+on the right of the right-hand fence, until I reached the woods
+beyond the field. I looked over the fence into the road. There was
+no enemy visible. The house at the west was without lights, and
+there was no noise of barking dogs or of anything else; clearly the
+rebels had moved, and by my prudence the black horse had gained
+further upon me. I got into the road and ran back to my horse,
+mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a mile;
+then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not
+expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first
+disappointment control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat
+of the rebels was necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains
+to protect. The road must be forsaken at the first path that would
+lead me to the right; any bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The
+night was clear, and the stars would guide me until I should reach
+some better ground. The sketch furnished me gave me only the main
+road, with the branch roads marked down for very short distances. I
+would take one of the branch roads leading to the right; there must
+be roads leading up the York; all the country is interlaced with
+roads small and large. I would risk it; better do that than risk
+falling into the enemy's hands.</p>
+<p>I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could
+distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was
+louder--coming and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into
+the woods a few yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still
+the sounds reached me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse,
+yet coming from far. Who could be riding fast this night? Who could
+be riding south this night? The rebels were going north; no rebel
+horseman would ride south to-night.</p>
+<p>The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed
+by; I could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I
+saw a black horse going south.</p>
+<p>Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I
+could not know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I
+be sure that in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or
+black from bay? I could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my
+first impression. The lieutenant had said the man's horse was
+black. How did the lieutenant know? Had he seen the horse by day?
+Had he brought a light? The horse must be very black. To satisfy my
+mind I led my horse into the road and slipped the bridle round his
+foreleg; then retired a few yards and looked at him--he had not the
+colour of the black horse; he was a deep bay.</p>
+<p>Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been
+found far up the road, and the messenger could not get through
+them. Who else would be riding fast down this road? If the rider
+were a rebel, he would ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward
+our own lines; this rider was one of ours. Who was he? He was the
+messenger on the black horse. Why should he ride so fast to the
+rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps he knew of another road,
+and was hurrying now because he had already lost time and his new
+road would be longer and would make him lose more.</p>
+<p>Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the
+black horse far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before
+I should encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.</p>
+<p>After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on
+the right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and
+considered. The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were
+occupied, what should I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one
+was now in the cabin, I might get information; if it was deserted,
+I could explore the ground about it, for I hoped that some path
+connected this place with other fields and perhaps other roads to
+the north. I dismounted and approached the door and knocked. There
+was no response. I pushed the door, and it opened; the place had
+been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a well in the back
+yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path leading to a
+spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully continued my
+search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the back
+fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to
+the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached
+the woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the
+trees overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my
+horse, I continued on and came to a larger field where, at the
+fence, the path connected with, a narrow plantation road which I
+knew, from the ruts, wagons had used. I went to the right, no
+longer dismounted, and going at a fast trot. My road was running in
+a northeast course, but soon the corner of the field was reached,
+and then it branched, one branch going to the north, the other
+continuing northeast Which should I take? I could not hesitate; I
+rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road for nearly a
+mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt sure that
+I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
+considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road
+again, but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was
+stretched along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the
+rear-guard picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had
+preceded me. I would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost
+lost sometimes, passing farms and woods and streams, forsaking one
+path for a worse one, if the latter favoured my course, until at
+last, after great anxiety, and fatigue of body and mind, I reached
+a wide road running northwest. I had come, I supposed, four or five
+miles from the stile.</p>
+<p>Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in
+the road to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map
+was worthless now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying
+parties; those people I must watch for.</p>
+<p>I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles
+to go, for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but
+I counted that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative
+safety, and had five hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing
+about, but it was running in the correct course for Eltham's
+Landing high up on the river.</p>
+<p>Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should
+take the right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight
+off to the York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take
+the left, it was chance for chance that I should ride straight to
+the enemy on the Richmond road.</p>
+<p>I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of
+hope thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance,
+but would take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or
+bridle-path branching out of this, and running up the river. But my
+progress became exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss
+seeing some blind road leading to the right, and my carefulness
+again cost me a little time, perhaps, for I found a path, and took
+it, going with great caution for a furlong, to find that it entered
+a larger road. If I had not taken this path, I should have soon
+reached this good road at its junction, and time would have been
+saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame myself, and went on
+with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon was getting far
+down the sky, my road was good and was running straight toward my
+end.</p>
+<p>But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard
+hoof-beats behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some
+night rider was following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal?
+Loud ring the strokes of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I
+must run or I must slip aside.</p>
+<p>I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw
+up the game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid
+in the shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering
+hoofs hit the road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the
+black horse belly to the ground in the moonlight.</p>
+<p>Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man
+before me; if he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me;
+so long as he should be in my front, safety for me was at the front
+and danger elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the
+road stretches were long, going slowly where the ground was hard,
+lest the noise of my approach should be heard. Yet I had no
+difficulty; the courier was straining every nerve to reach his
+destination, and regarded not his rear. He crossed roads in haste,
+and by this I knew that the road was to him familiar; he paused
+never, but kept his horse at an even gallop through forest and
+through field, while I followed by jerks, making my horse run at
+times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back to
+slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.</p>
+<p>But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had
+supposed; light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the
+west. How far to the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he
+has gone many weary miles more than mine has gone; his rider is
+urging him to the utmost; I can see him dig his spurs again and
+again into the sides of the noble beast, and see him strike, and I
+see him turn where the road turns ahead of me, and I ride faster to
+recover him; and now I see black smoke rising at my right hand, and
+I hear the whistle of the Union steam vessels, and I almost cry for
+joy, and at the turning of the road my horse rears and almost
+throws me to the ground, and I see the black horse lying dead, and
+I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror as a man springs
+from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts, "Your horse!
+your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your brains out!"</p>
+<p>For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!</p>
+<p>Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I
+write the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the
+past:--the daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two
+horses, each pair as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was
+dead and the other man was about to die. Had I been so utterly
+foolish! Why had I conceived absolutely that this rider was a
+Federal? How could a Federal know the road so well that he had gone
+over it at full speed, never hesitating, never deflecting into a
+wrong course? The instant before, I had been in heaven, for I had
+known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt that my end had
+come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a lost
+mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time
+any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and
+reaching our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.</p>
+<p>In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world
+<i>was</i> changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I
+saw his hands go up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed
+sight--were two Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the
+man in gray.</p>
+<p>"Take me at once to General Franklin."</p>
+<p>Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same
+words!</p>
+<p>The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black
+horse was a Federal in disguise!</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no
+error on my part, my mission was a failure.</p>
+<p>"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of
+it?" I asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.</p>
+<p>"That horse was going home!"</p>
+<p>"A horse captured from the rebels?"</p>
+<p>"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing.
+You see he had already made that road and was not in the best
+condition to make it again so soon; then I had to turn about more
+than once. I suppose that horse must have made nearly a hundred
+miles in twenty-four hours."</p>
+<p>Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as
+General Porter's messenger.</p>
+<p>On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XIV"></a>XIV</h2>
+<h3>OUT OF SORTS</h3>
+<center>"Your changed complexions are to me a mirror<br>
+Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be<br>
+A party in this alteration, finding<br>
+Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling
+for Dr. Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was
+sure that no other man was received as his companion--not that he
+was distant, but that he was not approached. By nature I am
+affectionate, but at that time my emotions were severely and almost
+continually repressed by my will, because of a condition of nervous
+sensitiveness in regard to the possibility of an exposure of my
+peculiarity, so that I often wondered whether the Doctor fully
+understood the love and reverence I bore him.</p>
+<p>On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say,
+on the morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William
+and Mary College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices,
+as he said, for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the
+open air, busily engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when
+I saw a man coming toward me. It was Willis.</p>
+<p>"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"</p>
+<p>"That depends."</p>
+<p>"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought
+out a camp-stool; Willis remained standing.</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear
+about your being detailed for special work?"</p>
+<p>"So," said I.</p>
+<p>"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"</p>
+<p>Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be;
+besides, I had observed that he called me Berwick rather than
+Jones. His attitude chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about
+myself. We talk about personal matters to personal friends. I
+suppose, too, that I am peculiar in such things; at any rate, so
+great was my distaste to talking now with Willis on the subject in
+question that I did not succeed in hiding my feeling.</p>
+<p>"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."</p>
+<p>"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal
+matters, perhaps too personal."</p>
+<p>"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then
+he asked, "How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"</p>
+<p>It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not
+of the little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to
+Lydia, and I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my
+being or becoming his rival. Yet I did not see how I could
+introduce a subject so delicate. In order to gain time, I replied:
+"Well, I don't know exactly; I am subject to orders from brigade
+headquarters. If no orders come, I shall stay here a day or two; if
+we march, I suppose I shall march with the company, unless the
+division is in the rear."</p>
+<p>"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will
+you do?" he asked.</p>
+<p>This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I
+asked, "Why do you wish to know?"</p>
+<p>"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to
+show your hand."</p>
+<p>"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.</p>
+<p>"You know very well what I mean," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say
+anything, this is a good time for saying it."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss
+Lydia."</p>
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+<p>"And I thought you were my friend."</p>
+<p>"I am your friend."</p>
+<p>"Then why do you get into my way?"</p>
+<p>"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what
+would you have me to do?"</p>
+<p>"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why
+you visit him."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him.
+I have no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."</p>
+<p>"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."</p>
+<p>"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to
+favour your hopes?"</p>
+<p>"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's
+company; but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that
+you want Miss Lydia."</p>
+<p>"Shall I tell him that you say that?"</p>
+<p>"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he
+replied angrily.</p>
+<p>"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss
+Lydia?"</p>
+<p>"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've
+got to say is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my
+way."</p>
+<p>"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me
+into a very delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and
+explain to him that my attachment to him is not a piece of
+hypocrisy played by me in order to win his daughter, would not be
+satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or even to Miss Khayme."</p>
+<p>"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.</p>
+<p>"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my
+assumption that she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my
+saying, 'I don't want you,' and more than that, as you can easily
+see. I decline to put myself into such a position. I prefer to
+assume that she does not regard me as a suitor, and that the Doctor
+receives me only as an old pupil. I beg you to stay here until the
+Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can promise you one
+thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a clear field."</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with
+Miss Lydia?"</p>
+<p>"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect
+me to say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it
+would be silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have
+not. I can tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia
+that I would not speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter,
+and I can say that I have not one degree of claim upon her."</p>
+<p>"Then you will keep out of my way?"</p>
+<p>"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will
+keep out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young
+lady is absolutely free so far as I am concerned."</p>
+<p>At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and
+went into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I
+offered to lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so
+greatly interested, but he would not consent.</p>
+<p>The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he
+said.</p>
+<p>"You surprise me, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week
+to come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division
+moves. Lydia will find enough to do here."</p>
+<p>Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short
+distance; on parting with him I told him that he might expect to
+see me again at night.</p>
+<p>"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."</p>
+<p>Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said
+nothing.</p>
+<p>When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He
+looked up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing
+to write, he said, "So Willis is angry."</p>
+<p>"Why do you say so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.</p>
+<p>I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.</p>
+<p>"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before
+I could reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that
+expression; it is a good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed,
+mentally unwell, physically ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of
+sorts. Out of sorts means mixed, unclassified, unassorted, having
+one's functions disordered. One who cannot separate his functions
+distinctly is unwell and, necessarily, miserable. Willis showed
+signs of dementia; his brain is not acting right. I think I can
+cure him."</p>
+<p>I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of
+sarcasm.</p>
+<p>He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate
+of any individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that
+is, sane at times, but to find them would be like finding the
+traditional needle. I suppose our good friend Willis would rank
+higher than the average, after all is said."</p>
+<p>"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."</p>
+<p>"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man
+for a soldier and a sergeant, and be content."</p>
+<p>Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge
+of nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this
+time I had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had
+alarmed or offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round
+the subject.</p>
+<p>"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a
+commission. If the war continues, there will be many chances for
+promotion."</p>
+<p>"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a
+commission. The difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is
+greater in pay than in qualification; in fact, a good
+orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a good captain. Let Willis
+have his commission. Let that be his ambition, if he persists in
+murdering people."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words
+were intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I
+could do nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was
+very delicate. Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he
+was very much afraid of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw
+more than I could see? No, that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he
+simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's well-known partiality for me; he
+feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was uneasy. I examined myself; I
+thought of my past conduct in regard to Lydia, and found nothing to
+condemn. I had been rather more distant, I thought, than was
+necessary. I must preserve this distance.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the
+company to-night."</p>
+<p>He looked up. "You will see Willis?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left
+us rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very
+well."</p>
+<p>"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me
+here by ten o'clock."</p>
+<p>When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on
+duty somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and
+everything passed in the friendliest way possible, at first.
+Evidently he was pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia.
+But he soon learned that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and
+his countenance changed at once.</p>
+<p>"What am I to think of you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you
+no wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."</p>
+<p>"He said that I was not well?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my
+life."</p>
+<p>"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."</p>
+<p>"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain
+longer."</p>
+<p>"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak
+to Miss Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or
+the other?"</p>
+<p>"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said
+he; "how can I speak to her?"</p>
+<p>"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the
+one to speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it.
+It's got to be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's
+what's hurting me."</p>
+<p>"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.</p>
+<p>"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over;
+it's doing me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."</p>
+<p>"Why don't you write?"</p>
+<p>"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked
+cowardly not to face the music."</p>
+<p>"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all.
+You ought to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't
+suppose you can do that."</p>
+<p>"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall
+write."</p>
+<p>I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said,
+coupled with my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not
+think his chance worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best
+thing for him to do was to bring matters to a conclusion. He would
+recover sooner.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had
+arrived in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the
+hospital.</p>
+<p>"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little
+less out of sorts?"</p>
+<p>"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work,
+Jones. I have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate
+uniform, while scouting."</p>
+<p>"And you do not oppose it?"</p>
+<p>"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war;
+all I can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it
+to good."</p>
+<p>The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended
+by saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some
+wounded prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles
+which the respective sections were fighting for.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout
+would be of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself,
+as my friend Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the
+best thing for the rebels was their quick defeat."</p>
+<p>"I remember it."</p>
+<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind."</p>
+<p>"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed.
+I believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe
+in the Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe
+and you do believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to
+war. But war has come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see
+that an easy defeat of the Southern armies will not bring about a
+wholesome reunion. For the people of the two sections to live in
+harmony, there must be mutual respect, and there must be
+self-respect. An easy triumph over the South would cause the North
+great vainglory and the South great humiliation. Granting war, it
+should be such as to effect as much good and as little harm as
+possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
+respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to
+know that she did all she could, and the North must know that the
+South proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
+respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded
+upon an easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not
+friends."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XV"></a>XV</h2>
+<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT</h3>
+<center>"The respects thereof are nice and trivial,<br>
+All circumstances well considered."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned
+that a part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was
+encamped near White House, and that General McClellan's
+headquarters were at or near that place.</p>
+<p>Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard
+that the rebels had destroyed the <i>Merrimac</i>. Heavy rains
+fell. Hooker's division was still in reserve, and had little to do
+except to mount camp guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr.
+Khayme in his camp near Williamsburg.</p>
+<p>I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness
+to melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written
+to Miss Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard
+time of it, but he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a
+little by taking him into my confidence in regard to my own
+troubles. I was moved to do this by the belief that, if I should
+tell Willis about my peculiarities, which in my opinion would make
+marriage a crime for me, he would find companionship in sorrow
+where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease to think entirely
+of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to appreciate my
+intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir up his
+ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him
+begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.</p>
+<p>From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the
+other divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the
+Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the
+Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went
+at once.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"</p>
+<p>"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.</p>
+<p>"Your regiment has had a good rest."</p>
+<p>"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."</p>
+<p>"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I
+am authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I
+shall be in greater demand there."</p>
+<p>"I wish I could go with you," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your
+orders?"</p>
+<p>"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to
+keep the adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my
+whereabouts."</p>
+<p>"How frequently must you report in person?"</p>
+<p>"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I
+cannot think it will be brought into action soon unless there
+should be a general engagement. If you can report in writing every
+two or three days, you need not limit your work or your presence to
+any particular part of the line."</p>
+<p>"But the right must be many miles from our division."</p>
+<p>"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present
+right is not more than five miles; the distance will be greater,
+though, in a few days."</p>
+<p>"What is going on, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force
+in his front, and--but let me get a map and show you the
+situation."</p>
+<p>He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread
+on a camp-bed.</p>
+<p>"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it.
+Here, about this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division
+under General Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to
+re&euml;nforce his right by ordering McDowell to march, thus,"
+describing almost a semicircle which began by going south, then
+southeast, then southwest; "that would place McDowell on
+McClellan's right flank, here. Now, if McDowell re&euml;nforces
+McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the Chickahominy, and if
+McDowell does not re&euml;nforce McClellan, this entire army cannot
+cross the Chickahominy."</p>
+<p>"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.</p>
+<p>"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten
+days; afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell
+comes, it will take ten days for his movement to be completed, and
+your right wing would move to meet him if need be, rather than move
+forward and leave him. To move forward would expose McDowell's
+flank to the Confederates near Guiney's, and it is feared that
+Jackson is not far from them. Am I clear?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose
+McDowell does not come."</p>
+<p>"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross
+the Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate
+force, supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached
+Hanover Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you
+advance; besides, to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army
+would endanger your supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is
+an awkward thing to cross; if it should rise suddenly, the army on
+the south side might starve before the men could get rations; all
+that the Confederates would have to do would be to prevent wagon
+trains from crossing the bridges. And another thing--defeat, with
+the river behind the army, would mean destruction. McClellan will
+not cross his army; he will throw only his left across."</p>
+<p>"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that
+with a wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of
+being beaten in detail."</p>
+<p>"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something;
+he makes a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the
+war department already thinks he has lost too much time and has
+shown too little aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring
+the James River as a base, for he could there have a river on
+either flank, and his base would be protected by the fleet; but
+this theory was overthrown at first by the <i>Merrimac</i>, and now
+that she is out of the way the clamour of the war department
+against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan accepts the
+York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to prepare, for a
+change to the James, by throwing forward his left."</p>
+<p>"But the left has not been thrown forward."</p>
+<p>"It will be done shortly."</p>
+<p>"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to
+re&euml;nforce us?"</p>
+<p>"McDowell has already been ordered to re&euml;nforce McClellan,
+and the order has been countermanded. The Washington authorities
+fear to uncover Washington on account of Jackson's presence in the
+Shenandoah Valley. If McDowell remains near Fredericksburg 'for
+good,' as we used to say in South Carolina, McClellan will be
+likely to get everything in readiness, then wait for his
+opportunity, and throw his right wing also across the Chickahominy,
+with the purpose of ending the campaign in a general engagement
+before his supplies are endangered. But this will take time. So I
+say that no matter what happens, except one thing, there will be
+nothing done by Hooker for ten days; he will stay in reserve."</p>
+<p>"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"A general attack by the Confederates."</p>
+<p>"And you think that is possible?"</p>
+<p>"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And
+you think they are ready to attack?"</p>
+<p>"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any
+rate a general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over
+the Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."</p>
+<p>"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or
+unless somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged
+unless your whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There
+is no possibility of an action for a week to come, and unless the
+Confederates attack, there will be no action for a month."</p>
+<p>"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates
+intend to attack," said I.</p>
+<p>"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you
+can serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You
+are free to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the
+place for you."</p>
+<p>"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one
+to see that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging
+every day for re&euml;nforcements; the Confederates are waiting and
+are being re&euml;nforced."</p>
+<p>"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by
+going with you?"</p>
+<p>"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from
+your regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your
+opportunities for service will be better."</p>
+<p>"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of
+reporting to the adjutant almost daily."</p>
+<p>"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a
+man."</p>
+<p>It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr.
+Khayme, who, on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear
+of General Porter's command, which we found supporting Franklin,
+whose troops were nearer the Chickahominy and behind New
+Bridge.</p>
+<p>Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling
+him where I could be found at need, and promising to send in
+further reports if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this
+period of the campaign there was but little activity anywhere along
+our lines; in fact, the lines had not been fully developed, and, as
+there was a difficult stream between us and the enemy, there was no
+room for enterprise. Here and there a reconnaissance would be made
+in order to learn something of the position of the rebels on the
+south side of the river, but such reconnaissances consisted mostly
+in merely moving small bodies of our troops up to the swamp and
+getting them fired upon by the Confederate artillery posted on the
+hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the 22d, while Dr.
+Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of guns in
+two places, but only a few shots.</p>
+<p>"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"From a wounded prisoner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I
+have had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform,
+perhaps, since it has the South Carolina State button, but in
+everything else it is the correct thing."</p>
+<p>"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as
+quickly as possible?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as
+I can do as well with my own,"</p>
+<p>"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or
+somewhere on your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor.
+"General Butterfield has given stringent orders for no man to leave
+camp for an hour."</p>
+<p>"Who is General Butterfield?"</p>
+<p>"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of
+his camp--Morell's division."</p>
+<p>"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation
+here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost
+sorry that I have sent for Lydia to come."</p>
+<p>"And they will move to the right?"</p>
+<p>"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right
+flank is threatened."</p>
+<p>"Then why not fall back to the left?"</p>
+<p>"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that
+would look like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right
+will hold; it may attack."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"</p>
+<p>"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"But your sympathies are with us."</p>
+<p>"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but
+strong in many other points. I think we have discussed this
+before."</p>
+<p>That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again.
+The Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the
+complete abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind
+allowed him to sympathize keenly with the political contention of
+the South.</p>
+<p>We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some
+one approaching.</p>
+<p>The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was
+presented to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.</p>
+<p>"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he
+said. "General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and
+proposes to borrow him, if possible."</p>
+<p>The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the
+Doctor looked at me; I looked at the ground.</p>
+<p>The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands
+that he is asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he
+knows the circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere
+you may be needed."</p>
+<p>"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is
+required of me?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain
+Auchmuty. "General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as
+to accompany me to his tent, you shall have the matter
+explained."</p>
+<p>The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he
+could just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think
+myself his debtor.</p>
+<p>"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I
+promise that you may return in an hour."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVI"></a>XVI</h2>
+<h3>BETWEEN THE LINES</h3>
+<center>"Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,<br>
+To know the number of our enemies."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to
+me as Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite
+dark.</p>
+<p>The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General
+Morell. In the conversation which followed, General Butterfield
+seemed greatly interested, but took no part at all.</p>
+<p>General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he
+said, "because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are
+prudent as well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you
+will get it for us."</p>
+<p>"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my
+absence is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."</p>
+<p>"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he
+is willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is
+likely to remain inactive. I will show you his note."</p>
+<p>Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General
+Grover the expression used by General Morell.</p>
+<p>"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my
+best for you."</p>
+<p>"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you
+will take with you if you wish."</p>
+<p>The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread
+the map. I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.</p>
+<p>"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you
+are to do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting
+the point of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up
+here is Hanover Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles
+this side--about this spot. You are to get to both places and find
+out if the enemy is at either, or both, and in what force. If he is
+not at either place, you are to move along the railroad in the
+direction of Richmond, until you find the enemy."</p>
+<p>"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg;
+they cross at the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Which railroad shall I follow?"</p>
+<p>"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn
+something of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if
+you are compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction,
+you need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say
+less than eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get
+all the knowledge you can of his position, his force in all arms,
+and, if possible, his purposes."</p>
+<p>"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body,
+not a mere scouting party."</p>
+<p>"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or
+foragers."</p>
+<p>"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey
+River," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which
+form the Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover
+Court-House, would there be any need for me to go on to the
+Junction?"</p>
+<p>"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time;
+in case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and
+inform us just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if
+you find no enemy at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if
+you find a small force, such as a party of cavalry, you should try
+to get to the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"</p>
+<p>"I can give you four days at the outside."</p>
+<p>"Counting to-night?"</p>
+<p>"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of
+the 27th, and shall hope to see you earlier."</p>
+<p>"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.</p>
+<p>"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.</p>
+<p>"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to
+meet?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in
+that case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force
+of ours run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal,
+better reserve your report for me."</p>
+<p>"And shall I find you here, sir?"</p>
+<p>"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if
+this command moves, I will leave orders for you."</p>
+<p>"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"</p>
+<p>"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel
+cavalry from the moment when you reach this point," putting his
+pencil on a spot marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in
+getting around them perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover
+Court-House, and another day to the Junction, if you find that you
+must go there; that gives you two days more; but if you find the
+enemy at the Court-House, you may get back in three days."</p>
+<p>"Why should I go by Old Church?"</p>
+<p>"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end;
+the country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral
+ground, and you would be delayed in going through it."</p>
+<a name="186.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/186.png" width="50%" alt=""></p>
+<p>"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover
+Court-House?"</p>
+<p>"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads
+and the profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to
+military obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force,
+I mean--look into them."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, I am ready."</p>
+<p>"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want,
+mounted or afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please
+have a good man to report to me two hours before day."</p>
+<p>"Mounted?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations
+and corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the
+road to Old Church."</p>
+<p>"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night,
+and good luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your
+success will justify it."</p>
+<p>"Good night, General. I will do my best."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in
+disguise, and I had great doubt what to do; however, I at last
+compromised matters by deciding to take the Confederate uniform to
+be used in case I should need it. A thought occurred to me:
+"Doctor," said I, "these palmetto buttons might prove a bad thing.
+Suppose I should get into a brigade of Georgians occupying some
+position where there are no other troops; what would a Carolinian
+be doing amongst them?"</p>
+<p>"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these
+buttons are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth:
+all you have to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few
+moments. However, nobody would notice your buttons unless you
+should be within six feet of him and in broad daylight."</p>
+<p>"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there
+are more Confederates than Carolinians."</p>
+<p>The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto
+buttons into my haversack.</p>
+<p>Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I
+studied the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray
+clothing was wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the
+saddle. My escort was expected to provide for everything else. I
+decided to wear a black soft hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as
+big as mine, although he weighed about half as much as I did. My
+own shoes were coarse enough, and of no peculiar make. In my
+pockets I put nothing except a knife, some Confederate money, some
+silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South
+Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which he insisted
+on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I was a
+Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.</p>
+<p>Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside
+the tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but
+he was already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.</p>
+<p>The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.</p>
+<p>"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," said he.</p>
+<p>"What is your name?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"</p>
+<p>"What? My friend of the black horse?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"But I believe you are in blue this time."</p>
+<p>"Yes; I got no orders."</p>
+<p>I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had
+already had occasion to know.</p>
+<p>We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine.
+The morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered
+overhead, and Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the
+handle of the Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure
+that I looked for the Pleiades, to count them; they had not
+risen.</p>
+<p>We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops
+lay in bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer;
+then parks of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of
+wagons, with horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met
+a horseman, but nothing was said to him or by him.</p>
+<p>Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where
+nothing was seen except fields and woods.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I
+can satisfy them."</p>
+<p>At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then
+returned and explained that our post would admit us. We passed a
+mounted vedette, and then went on for a few hundred yards until we
+came to a crossroad.</p>
+<p>"We are at Old Church," said Jones.</p>
+<p>"And we have nobody here?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take
+the left here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the
+road."</p>
+<p>"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to
+the left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a
+blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had nearly
+risen.</p>
+<p>The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant
+Russell. He gave me all the information he could. The right-hand
+road, by the blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek
+near its mouth, he said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River,
+and at the place where it crossed the Pamunkey another road came
+in, running down the river from Hanover Court-House. He was sure
+that the road which came in was the road from Hanover to the ferry
+at Hanover Old Town; he believed the ferry had not yet been
+destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him where the
+left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road to
+Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
+considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road.
+This also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my
+hat the several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church
+to Hanover Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I
+could have some resource, but I found that I could remember without
+uncovering.</p>
+<p>The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what
+he knew did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if
+he knew where the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are
+coming and going," said he; "one day they will be moving, and then
+a day will pass without our hearing of them. If they have a post
+anywhere, I don't know it."</p>
+<p>"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"</p>
+<p>"No--nobody at all," said he.</p>
+<p>Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had
+swallowed our breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee.
+For several reasons I thought it best to take the road to the left:
+first, it was away from the river, which the rebels were supposed
+to be watching closely; second, the distance seemed not so great;
+and, third, it was said to traverse a less populous region.</p>
+<p>I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided
+that we should ride forward alternately, at least until we should
+strike the crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones,
+rode forward for fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to
+him to come on. As he went by me I told him to continue to advance
+until he should reach, a turn in the road; then he should halt and
+let me pass him. At the first stop he made I saw with pleasure that
+he had the good judgment to halt on the side of the road amongst
+the bushes. I now rode up to him in turn, and paused before
+passing.</p>
+<p>"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"And have seen nothing?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; not a thing."</p>
+<p>"You understand why we advance in this manner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both
+can watch for both."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the
+same time; one of us might be left to tell the tale."</p>
+<p>I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a
+field was seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and
+I changed tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together
+through the field, went on quickly past the house, and on to
+another thicket, in the edge of which we found a school-house; but
+just before reaching the thicket I made Jones follow me at the
+distance of some forty yards. I had made this change of procedure
+because I had been able to see that there was nobody in the stretch
+of road passing the house, and I thought it better for two at once
+to be exposed to possible view from the house for a minute than one
+each for a minute.</p>
+<p>We had not seen a soul.</p>
+<p>We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding
+forward for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and
+alternately thus until we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into
+ours from the southwest. On the north of our road, and about two
+hundred and fifty yards from the spot where we had halted, was a
+farmhouse, which I supposed was the Linney house marked on the map.
+The road at the left, I knew from the map, went straight to
+Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I suspected that it was
+frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We remained in hiding at
+a short distance from the house, and consulted. I feared to pass
+openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the house, for
+discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion of the
+whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably be
+supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and,
+if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great
+probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the
+nearest rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning
+back. We rode down toward Old Church until we came to a forest
+stretching north of the road, which we now left, and made through
+the woods a circuit of the Linney house, and reached the Hanover
+road again in the low grounds of Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no
+one. The creek bottom was covered with forest and dense
+undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below the road, and
+kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture into the
+open.</p>
+<p>It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three
+miles since we had left Old Church.</p>
+<p>In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that
+we must run some risk of being seen from four directions at once,
+or else we must flank the crossing.</p>
+<p>By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the
+way until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and
+bidding Jones remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up
+and down, on the road. There were houses at my left--some two
+hundred yards off, and but indistinctly seen through the trees--on
+both sides of the road, but no person was visible. Just at my right
+the road sank between two elevations. I went to the hollow and
+found that from this position the houses could not be seen. I went
+back to Jones, and together we led our horses across the road
+through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly away through the
+woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two miles or more
+beyond the Linney house.</p>
+<p>We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts
+it would be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a
+mile at our left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the
+left and made for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we
+soon reached the Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought,
+of Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear
+oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover
+Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by
+the enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently
+operated. If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction,
+were seeking to get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this
+would be the road by which it would march; this road then, beyond
+all question, was constantly watched, and there was strong
+probability that rebels were kept posted in good positions upon it.
+But for the fact that I might find it necessary to reach the
+Junction, I should now have gone forward afoot.</p>
+<p>I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther
+forward, and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to
+be one, at the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from
+ten o'clock until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our
+gradual approach.</p>
+<p>The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we
+found it always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight
+of the road, Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours
+we went around every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we
+had plenty of time. We avoided every habitation, and chose the
+thickest of the woods and the deepest of the hollows, and so
+conducted our advance that, remarkable as it may seem, from the
+time we left our outposts at Old Church until we came in sight of
+the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a human being,
+though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve miles. Of
+course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had been
+seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to
+keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there
+could tell whether we were friend or enemy.</p>
+<p>At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket.
+While we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that
+resembled the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the
+sound came from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of
+McClellan's right.</p>
+<p>About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which
+we could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in
+front of us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the
+open space. Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was
+determined to be prudent. The only question was whether we should
+flank the field at the right or at the left. From our point of
+observation, it seemed to me that the field in front stretched
+sufficiently far in the north to reach the Hanover road; if this
+were true our only course was by the left. To be as nearly sure as
+possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very much that I had
+not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General Morrell
+had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I
+had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should
+reach the ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that
+the road did go through the field and that there were men in the
+road.</p>
+<p>I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not
+more than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They
+seemed to be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking
+they began to move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There
+were bushes on the sides of the road where they were; soon they
+passed beyond the bushes, and I could see that the men were
+mounted. I watched them until they were lost to sight where the
+road entered the woods beyond. I had counted eleven; I supposed
+there were ten men under command of an officer.</p>
+<p>It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left.
+We acted with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the
+corner of the field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then
+put up the gap, and rode into the woods on the edge of the field.
+In some places the undergrowth was low, and we feared that our
+heads might be seen above our horses; in such places we dismounted.
+We passed at a distance one or two small houses--not dwellings, we
+thought, but field barns or cribs. At length we reached the western
+side of the field; we had gained greatly in position, though we
+were but little nearer to Hanover.</p>
+<p>We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and
+that we were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a
+quarter of a mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the
+horses, I crept through the woods until I could see the road. It
+was deserted. I crept nearer and nearer until I was almost on its
+edge; sheltered by the bushes I could see a long distance either
+way. At my left was a house, some two hundred yards away and on the
+far side of the road. I watched the house. The men I had seen in
+the road might have stopped in the house; there might be--indeed,
+there ought to be--an outpost near me, and this house would
+naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing, and at last
+crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced again
+parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the
+house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard
+in front of the house, and even through the house from front to
+back door; it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to
+seem as though the house was an abandoned one, in which case the
+rebels would likely never stop there, unless for water. I saw no
+well in the yard. There was no sign of life.</p>
+<p>I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel
+with the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a
+field in my front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the
+road there was another field, the road running between rail fences.
+I returned to Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence
+of my long absence, and we brought the horses up to the spot to
+which I had advanced. It was now about four o'clock, and we had yet
+three hours of daylight. Hanover could not be much more than two
+miles from us.</p>
+<p>The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily
+wooded hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet
+quite unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I
+asked Jones to creep back and observe the place thoroughly.</p>
+<p>He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing
+now," he said.</p>
+<p>No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into
+the woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in
+two squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward
+Hanover.</p>
+<p>"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went
+through the field?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would
+not show above the fence," he said.</p>
+<p>I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these
+small bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the
+supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had
+passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several
+attempts made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.</p>
+<p>No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went
+to the left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the
+foot of a hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I
+must go forward alone.</p>
+<p>To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in
+the creek swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a
+signal.</p>
+<p>I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I
+crossed the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the
+road; it ran up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men.
+Here, I was convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there
+was a line.</p>
+<p>A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge
+of the road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east,
+nearer to me than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone
+on sabres and carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry
+picket-line. I came down from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones,
+and got ready. I told him to make himself comfortable for the
+night, and to wait for me no longer than two o'clock the next day.
+The package containing the gray clothing I took with me. I would
+not put it on until I should see that nothing else would do.</p>
+<p>And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went
+forward. I had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I
+should find it to be a very long line; if it proved to be a line
+that I could turn, I would go round it, and when on its flank I
+would act as opportunity should offer. If the enemy's force were
+small, I might see it all from the outside; but if it consisted of
+brigades and divisions, I would put on the disguise and throw away
+my own uniform.</p>
+<p>Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were
+beginning to show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had
+seen the rebel picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed,
+carrying nothing but the gray clothes wrapped in the
+gum-blanket.</p>
+<p>The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were
+no trees. At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could
+hear voices far away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices
+were nearer--or louder, possibly.</p>
+<p>I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved
+off at a right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line
+parallel with the supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A
+rabbit sprang up from almost under my feet. I was glad that it did
+not run up the hill. Voices continued to come to my ears, but from
+far away. I supposed that the line was more than three hundred
+yards from me, and that vedettes were between us; but for the
+vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew that I was in no great
+danger so long as the pickets would talk. The voices made me sure
+that these pickets did not feel themselves in the presence of an
+enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of cavalry on all
+the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were prepared for
+attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared against
+observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for that.
+So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively
+safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from
+them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be
+in their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should
+think of him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he
+should be alarmed, I could get away.</p>
+<p>So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I
+struck woods, where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on
+level ground, and I could see in the distance the light of
+camp-fires, between which and me I could not doubt were the
+pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of the enemy.</p>
+<p>I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on
+the fires. I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it
+certainly covered more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that
+I were on the north side of the road.</p>
+<p>The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right.
+I was beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had
+reached the point where the picket-line bent back. I felt
+encouraged.</p>
+<p>I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still
+pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line
+fronting east. Soon I reached another road.</p>
+<p>Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could
+see, into the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt
+one of the main roads leading to Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no
+camp-fires.</p>
+<p>I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.</p>
+<p>A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.</p>
+<p>I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star
+through the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north
+and south. The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near
+it, and bent back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon
+cavalry for their flank,--and this flank was toward their main army
+at Richmond,--my work would be easy.</p>
+<p>I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More
+cavalry rode by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of
+any infantry pickets.</p>
+<p>An ambulance went by, going north into camp.</p>
+<p>I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out
+of my pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves
+as well as I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes
+and twisted the gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had
+resolved to accompany any ambulance or wagon that should come into
+the rebel camp.</p>
+<p>Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and
+waited.</p>
+<p>Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was
+now convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was
+protected by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left
+flank of the rebel line.</p>
+<p>I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I
+could hear the engines puffing.</p>
+<p>From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I
+saw a team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the
+night.</p>
+<p>A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and
+get behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another
+came. As the last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent
+under the feed-box which, was slung behind it.</p>
+<p>I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVII"></a>XVII</h2>
+<h3>THE LINES OF HANOVER</h3>
+<center>"Our scouts have found the adventure very
+easy."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I
+thought, a new road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen
+again, and near by.</p>
+<p>The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted.
+I supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere
+form's sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept
+entirely under the body of the wagon.</p>
+<p>We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back
+and was walking toward the other end of his beat.</p>
+<p>The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an
+encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed
+clearly upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many
+groups of men; some of them were talking noisily; some were
+singing. It was easy to see that these men were in good spirits;
+they surely had not had a hard march that day. For my part, I was
+beginning to feel very tired; still, I knew that excitement would
+keep me going for this night, and for the next day, if need be.</p>
+<p>The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to
+go on until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was
+alone again, and with the Confederate forces between Jones and
+me.</p>
+<p>I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that
+the worst was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago,
+while following up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been
+at any time that day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who
+wore the Southern uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part
+could lose me. I must still act cautiously--yet without the
+appearance of caution; that was a more difficult matter.</p>
+<p>What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work
+of walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get
+out of these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for
+any other rebel.</p>
+<p>But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be
+accosted by some one?</p>
+<p>Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be
+satisfied.</p>
+<p>But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what
+can you say?</p>
+<p>Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all
+Georgians, and I am a South Carolinian.</p>
+<p>The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed
+my imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the
+place of a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier
+again was sudden, violent. I must guard against such
+transitions.</p>
+<p>Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without
+the appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires,
+by a great effort of will dominating my discomposure, and
+determining to play the Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I
+would go to the men; would talk to them when necessary; would count
+their tents and their stacks of arms if possible; would learn, as
+soon as I could, the name of some regiment, so that if I were
+questioned I could answer.</p>
+<p>But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate
+answer, and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you
+say?</p>
+<p>I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could
+prompt such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to
+suspect my being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect
+that one of these men was a Union soldier.</p>
+<p>I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook
+me, each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me
+without speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near
+them--and went with them to their company. I stood by in the light
+of the fires while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while
+they put the canteens on the ground, and their respective owners
+came and got them. The men did not speak to me.</p>
+<p>I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they
+certainly ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready
+for action, but, instead, they were here in tents and without any
+preparation against surprise, so far as I could see, except the
+cavalry pickets thrown out on the roads. If they had been in line,
+it would have been easy for me to estimate the number of bayonets
+in the line of stacked arms; I was greatly disappointed. The tents
+seemed to me too few for the numbers of men who were at the
+camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on their blankets in
+the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild weather, preferred
+to sleep outside of the crowded tents.</p>
+<p>Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to
+know, I sat down.</p>
+<p>One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.</p>
+<p>"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should
+carry some tobacco.</p>
+<p>"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.</p>
+<p>The petitioner refused to reply.</p>
+<p>A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a
+square of tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off
+a very small portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in
+silence at this act, which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One
+of them winked at me. I inferred that the large man intended a
+rebuke to his comrade for begging from a stranger. The large man
+went back and sat down.</p>
+<p>"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"</p>
+<p>"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.</p>
+<p>There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of
+all were upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of
+character and influence, though but a private. He turned to me.</p>
+<p>"You are tired," he said.</p>
+<p>I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted
+me, so that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had
+returned. The look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it
+was sympathetic. He was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me
+might shield me from the curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they
+were feeling interest of any sort in me. I had been fearing that
+some one would ask me my regiment.</p>
+<p>"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next
+fire.</p>
+<p>Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common
+saying with homesick soldiers.</p>
+<p>I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me.
+Perhaps I was thought a friend of one of the men who had brought
+the water; perhaps nobody thought anything, or cared anything,
+about me. Although I felt helpless, I would remain.</p>
+<p>A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of
+my hand. The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled;
+accident had helped me--had given me a plan.</p>
+<p>I turned the letter over. The address was:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Co. G, 7th N.C.
+Reg't,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Branch's
+Brigade,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Gordonsville,
+Va.</i></blockquote>
+<p>I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the
+street. The act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me
+entirely natural, but it was the best I could do; these men, I
+hoped, would merely think me an oddity.</p>
+<p>In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I
+saw.</p>
+<p>"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.</p>
+<p>"What regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"Our'n," said he.</p>
+<p>"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.</p>
+<p>"This is the Thirty-third," said another.</p>
+<p>I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached
+another group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward
+the left. I followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said,
+"Hello, Jim! where are you going?"</p>
+<p>He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to
+hello; but my name's not Jim."</p>
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what
+regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another
+word.</p>
+<p>The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the
+Thirty-third and Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all
+of Branch's regiments were from one State. I was supposed to belong
+to the brigade; it was needless to tell me the name of the State
+from which my regiment--from which all the regiments--came. Had the
+brigade been a mixed one, the men would have said, "Thirty-third
+North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North Carolina"; that they did not
+trouble themselves with giving the name of their State was strong
+reason for believing that all the regiments, as I knew the Seventh
+to be, were from North Carolina.</p>
+<p>I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes,
+which I thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten
+o'clock. The men had become silent; but few were sitting at the
+fires. I believed I had sufficient information as to the
+composition of the brigade, but I had learned little as to its
+strength. I knew that there were five streets in the encampment,
+and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how many men were
+in the brigade?</p>
+<p>Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents,
+which I took for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street
+was a wall-tent, which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of
+the encampment of tents, and separated from the encampment by a
+space of a hundred yards, perhaps, was a line of brighter fires
+than now showed in the streets. The dying out of the fires in the
+streets was what called my attention, by contrast, to these
+brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires; to my surprise I
+found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the nearest fire, and
+found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.</p>
+<p>"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said
+one.</p>
+<p>"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.</p>
+<p>"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; do you?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's
+down that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with
+canteens. You are mighty late getting supper."</p>
+<p>"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin',
+an' they jest now got back an' let us loose."</p>
+<p>"What duty were you on?"</p>
+<p>"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time,
+but we went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that
+water o' yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a
+mile."</p>
+<p>"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you
+how to find it."</p>
+<p>"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git
+started right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."</p>
+<p>"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past
+General Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old
+field, and--let me see; what regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no
+tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no
+tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."</p>
+<p>"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I
+rather like it."</p>
+<p>"Well, wher's your water?"</p>
+<p>"You know where the old field is?"</p>
+<p>"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know
+anything."</p>
+<p>"You know headquarters?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the
+old field"</p>
+<p>The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with
+his messmate.</p>
+<p>"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a
+battery with the brigade in a week."</p>
+<p>"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Off on duty," said I.</p>
+<p>"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed
+with your comp'ny an' not ha' seed it <i>then</i>; you hain't seed
+it becaze it ain't for to be saw. They're put it away back
+yander."</p>
+<p>"How many guns?"</p>
+<p>"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em,
+myself."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were
+guarding the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do
+its own guard duty."</p>
+<p>"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house
+down <i>by</i> the battery."</p>
+<p>"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."</p>
+<p>"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."</p>
+<p>"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"</p>
+<p>"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it
+Branch's battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's
+regiment Branch's, too."</p>
+<p>"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"</p>
+<p>"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's
+regiment, by a long shot."</p>
+<p>"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a
+venture.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the
+Junction now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say
+so this mornin'."</p>
+<p>"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.</p>
+<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p>
+<p>"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference
+between the Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North
+Carolina.</p>
+<p>The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk
+almost ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began
+tearing it into little bits, which I threw into the fire one by
+one, pretending mere abstraction.</p>
+<p>The envelope had borne the address:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;CAPTAIN GEORGE B.
+JOHNSTON,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Co. G, 28th N.C.
+Reg't,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Branch's Brigade,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hanover C.H.,
+Va</i>.</blockquote>
+<p>I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G.
+Morrow, of the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A
+third bore the address:--</p>
+<blockquote>CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE, <i>Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,</i><br>
+<i>Gordonsville, Va.</i></blockquote>
+<p>More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of
+privates, corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth,
+others of the Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One
+envelope had no address. Another gave me the name of Col. James H.
+Lane, but no regiment.</p>
+<p>"Time your friend was getting back," said I.</p>
+<p>"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd
+ahead of him."</p>
+<p>"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven
+or eight hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"</p>
+<p>"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"</p>
+<p>"Eighty-two," he said.</p>
+<p>The other man returned from the spring.</p>
+<p>"Know what I heerd?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.</p>
+<p>"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina
+was here summers."</p>
+<p>"Well, maybe it is."</p>
+<p>"I got it mighty straight."</p>
+<p>"How did you hear it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had
+jest come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from
+here"</p>
+<p>"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,</p>
+<p>"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.</p>
+<p>"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."</p>
+<p>My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was
+Branch's command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one
+from Georgia, and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed
+to be near by. What more need I know? I must learn the strength of
+the force; I must get corroboration. The man with whom I had talked
+might be wrong on some point. I considered my friend's opinion
+correct concerning Branch's purpose. The Confederate force was put
+here to protect the railroad. From the envelopes I had learned that
+Branch's brigade had recently been at Gordonsville; it was clear
+that it had left Gordonsville in order to place itself between
+Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's army at Richmond,
+and thus preserve communications. Branch had been re&euml;nforced
+by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and seemingly on
+this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that General
+Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
+last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not
+trouble myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
+corroboration and knowledge of numbers.</p>
+<p>The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight
+formality to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek
+the path to the spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be
+going for water all night long, especially as there seemed little
+of it near by. By getting near the spring I should also be able,
+perhaps, to determine the position of the wagons; I had decided to
+attempt going out of these lines in the manner of my entering them,
+if I could but find a wagon going before daylight.</p>
+<p>It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a
+spring after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself
+by the side of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of
+empty canteens and the footsteps of a man; I started to meet
+him.</p>
+<p>"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"</p>
+<p>"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."</p>
+<p>"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."</p>
+<p>"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."</p>
+<p>"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if
+I did; you've hit it!"</p>
+<p>"What regiment do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>"Thirty-seventh."</p>
+<p>"Is that Colonel Lane's?"</p>
+<p>"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our
+colonel."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."</p>
+<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p>
+<p>"'Eventh,"</p>
+<p>"That's Campbell's," said he.</p>
+<p>"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I,
+sitting down while the man should fill his canteens.</p>
+<p>"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.</p>
+<p>"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more
+are coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and
+is under Branch."</p>
+<p>"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.</p>
+<p>"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"</p>
+<p>"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."</p>
+<p>"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old
+Twenty-eighth is a whopper--a thousand men."</p>
+<p>I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran
+down the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade
+ort to have a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with
+himself for discovering something like a pun or two.</p>
+<p>For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back,
+with this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I
+should linger at the water, he might think my conduct strange.</p>
+<p>Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so,
+venturing the remark that these two new regiments made Branch's
+brigade a very big one.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us
+forever."</p>
+<p>"Wonder where they came from," said I.</p>
+<p>"Too hard for <i>me</i>," he replied; "especially the Twelfth;
+the Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."</p>
+<p>We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop
+here," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
+branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
+his way.</p>
+<p>And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to
+stay at one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I
+should be stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the
+fires of the Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and
+lay down. But I found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the
+experience and the danger of the situation drove sleep as far from
+me as the east is from the west. I believe that in romances it is
+the proper thing to say that a man in trying situations sleeps the
+sleep of the infant; but this is not romance. I could not
+sleep.</p>
+<p>Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself
+and sat up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no
+conversation with him; I was afraid he might question me too
+closely, and that my replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I
+kept quiet; I knew enough--too much to risk losing.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become
+aware of a foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears
+were confirmed. He opened his mouth and said,
+"Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance was an assertion
+rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He continued to look at
+me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and went to
+sleep.</p>
+<p>To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and
+made my way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear.
+It must have been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished
+feeding their mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their
+teams; then, with much shouting and rattling of harness, they moved
+off. I stole along beside the second wagon for some distance, and
+had almost decided to climb into it from behind when I thought that
+possibly some one was in it. There seemed little danger in going
+out behind the wagons, especially as there was no light of day as
+yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets on the road would
+be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and although,
+too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
+cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my
+plan was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.</p>
+<p>When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about
+the spot, as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other
+wagons on the preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on
+the left of the road.</p>
+<p>The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at
+twenty paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution
+must be more than ever my guide; now that I had information of
+great value, it would not do to risk capture.</p>
+<p>For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees,
+intently listening for the least sound which might convince me
+whether I was on the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that
+I was yet in rear of the Confederate pickets. The east was now
+clearly defined, so that my course was easy to choose--a
+northeasterly course, which I knew was very nearly the exact
+direction to the spot where I had left Jones.</p>
+<p>At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every
+yard was increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and
+rendering probability greater in my favour; I surely must be
+already in front of any possible picket-line.</p>
+<p>The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going
+a hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I
+examined the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I
+saw before me a fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal
+some vedette. Yet, if it did, the sentinel should be on my side of
+the tree. I stood for a few moments, intently searching it with my
+eyes. It was not more than fifteen yards from me, and directly in
+my course. At last, seeing nothing, I sprang quickly and was just
+about to lie down behind it, when a man rose from its other side. I
+did not lie down. He looked at me; I looked at him. He was unarmed.
+We were about eight feet apart. He began to recoil. There was light
+sufficient to enable me to tell from his dress that he was a rebel.
+Of course he would think me a Confederate. I stepped over the
+log.</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice;
+"why are you not with your regiment?"</p>
+<p>He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the
+ground.</p>
+<p>"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.</p>
+<p>He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by being here at all?"</p>
+<p>"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to
+sleep here, waiting for day."</p>
+<p>"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"The Seventh," he replied.</p>
+<p>"And your brigade?"</p>
+<p>He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made
+an unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure
+another corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought
+I could perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you
+know that troops have come up in the night? What brigade is
+yours?"</p>
+<p>"Branch's," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I,
+pointing to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well
+pleased to be quit at so cheap a cost.</p>
+<p>Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged
+through the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute
+without pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face;
+again I had felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too
+violent transition of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar
+condition which pressed me to prolonged and unguarded energy. I
+went through thicket and brier patch, over logs and gullies, and
+when I paused I knew not where I was.</p>
+<p>After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly
+direction so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more
+to the north; I changed my course then, bending toward the north,
+and before sunrise reached the creek which, on the preceding night,
+I had crossed after leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was
+above me or below, so I crossed the stream at the place where I
+struck it, and went straight away from it through the swamp.</p>
+<p>After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing
+my course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there
+was no response.</p>
+<p>No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My
+present course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I
+should get farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume
+any direction as the right one, I should be likely to have guessed
+wrong. I spent an hour working my way laboriously through the
+swamp, making wide and wider sweeps to reach some opening or some
+tree on higher ground. At last I saw open ground on my left. I went
+rapidly to it, and found a field, with a fence separating it from
+the woods,--the fence running east and west,--and saw, several
+hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the field at which I
+had stationed Jones.</p>
+<p>At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As
+I came near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting
+on the ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I
+was in his rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses;
+he sprang quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the
+muzzle of his gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and
+Jones advanced, frightened.</p>
+<p>"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why
+didn't you signal sooner?"</p>
+<p>"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I
+am glad to see you so watchful."</p>
+<p>"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he;
+"what have you done with your other clothes?"</p>
+<p>"Had to throw them away."</p>
+<p>"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you
+are--and from that direction."</p>
+<p>This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate
+standing with a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels,
+I had felt no visible contrast with them. Since I had left the
+wagon I had had no time for thought of personal appearance. Now I
+looked at myself. My hands were scratched with briers; my hat was
+torn; a great hole was over one knee, which I had used most in
+crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having been more rapid than
+cautious in crossing the creek. For more than twenty-four hours my
+mind had been on too great a strain to think of the body. By the
+side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general questioning an
+uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.</p>
+<p>"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The
+horses have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I
+need one, but it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to
+know."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route
+which we had followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones
+the position and force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken
+and he left, he could report to General Morell. We avoided the
+fields and roads, and stuck to the woods, keeping a sharp lookout
+ahead, but going rapidly. At the first water which we saw I took
+time to give my head a good souse.</p>
+<p>Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above
+Crump's Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at
+our left, seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I
+crept toward the road until I could see part of it winding over the
+hill. About twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they
+numbered just twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going
+at a gallop up the hill, and apparently excited--running from
+danger, I thought. They disappeared over the hill. I thought it
+quite likely that some of our cavalry were advancing on the road,
+and that it would be well for me to wait where I was; if I should
+go back and call Jones to come, our men might pass while I was
+gone.</p>
+<p>In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow
+walk, another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were
+armed with lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I
+remembered much talk in the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment
+of lancers.</p>
+<p>As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I
+boldly left my place of concealment and walked out into the road.
+The cavalry halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I
+shall here call Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode
+out a little to the front of his men, and said, "So you have given
+it up?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of
+it."</p>
+<p>"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up
+behind one of my men. We want you."</p>
+<p>For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road
+before their eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain
+cried out, "Here, Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the
+rear!"</p>
+<p>"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades
+is near by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he
+interrupted me, crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your
+comrades. No more from you, sir!"</p>
+<p>As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant
+and detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the
+sergeant, but he refused to hear me.</p>
+<p>This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a
+short while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not
+understood from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct
+duty that I had not once thought of my pretended character. For his
+part, the captain had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter
+coming into the Union lines. This was now simple enough, but why,
+under such circumstances, he had not questioned me in regard to
+what was in his front, I could not at all understand. I tried again
+to speak, but was commanded to be silent.</p>
+<p>This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only
+serious consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he
+would wait for me indefinitely, and would be captured. Although
+such a result could bring no blame to me, yet I was very anxious
+about him. Concerning myself, I knew that I could suffer restraint
+but a very short time; just so soon as I could get speech with any
+officer willing to listen, I should be set right.</p>
+<p>The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's
+shop, some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought
+before Colonel Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry
+regiments which had advanced from Old Church on that morning.</p>
+<p>Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the
+regiments were under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported
+that I was a Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry
+had found in the woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded,
+and began to question me.</p>
+<p>"When did you leave your regiment?"</p>
+<p>"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.</p>
+<p>"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be
+sure that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"</p>
+<p>"The 24th, I think, sir."</p>
+<p>"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"</p>
+<p>"From what place, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"Why, from Hanover."</p>
+<p>"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."</p>
+<p>"What is your regiment?"</p>
+<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."</p>
+<p>The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his
+countenance.</p>
+<p>"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man,
+Sergeant?"</p>
+<p>The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it,
+Colonel. I only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried
+to talk to Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send
+him back at once."</p>
+<p>"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"</p>
+<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a
+smile.</p>
+<p>"Then what are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"But what were you doing when you were captured?"</p>
+<p>"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the
+lancers, I was returning from a scout."</p>
+<p>"What brigade do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>"General Grover's."</p>
+<p>"What division?"</p>
+<p>"General Hooker's."</p>
+<p>"Where is your regiment now?"</p>
+<p>"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was
+there on the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."</p>
+<p>The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate
+deserter; he was beginning to believe my story; his tone
+altered.</p>
+<p>"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"</p>
+<p>"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was
+just returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but
+they would not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would
+not let me speak."</p>
+<p>The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you
+are a Union soldier?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to
+carry anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to
+General Morell."</p>
+<p>"Where is General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"On the reserve line near New Bridge."</p>
+<p>"Why send you to General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Because I must make my report to him."</p>
+<p>"Did he send you out?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to
+General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about,
+but it is perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to
+General Morell, the whole matter will be cleared up to your
+satisfaction. I beg you to do so at once. I know that General
+Morell will consider my report important, and will be disappointed
+if it should be delayed, sir."</p>
+<p>"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your
+person. I shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim
+you and justify your claims."</p>
+<p>"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and
+what would you do with me?"</p>
+<p>"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say
+you are not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not
+need you."</p>
+<p>"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come
+voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"</p>
+<p>"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union
+man, but you cannot prove it."</p>
+<p>"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General
+Morell, I beg that you at once send back for my companion."</p>
+<p>"What companion?"</p>
+<p>"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany
+me. He is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our
+horses, and I fear he will wait too long for me, and be
+captured."</p>
+<p>"By the lancers?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."</p>
+<p>"But why did you not tell me this before?"</p>
+<p>"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General
+Morell; you refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify
+me to you; but time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."</p>
+<p>Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who
+at once went off, accompanied by his two men.</p>
+<p>"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the
+colonel.</p>
+<p>"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"But if I order you to report to me?"</p>
+<p>"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"What has that got to do with it?"</p>
+<p>"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to
+betray his cause," said I.</p>
+<p>"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.</p>
+<p>"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one,
+after having reached safety?"</p>
+<p>"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been
+lost, and if so you are properly a prisoner of war."</p>
+<p>"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition
+of the Union army?"</p>
+<p>"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the
+benefit of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the
+presence of the enemy."</p>
+<p>"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our
+advanced troops should be in any danger."</p>
+<p>"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking
+a small force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's
+nest."</p>
+<p>"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."</p>
+<p>"What force is in our front?"</p>
+<p>"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery.
+There are cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."</p>
+<p>"And where are they?"</p>
+<p>"The cavalry?"</p>
+<p>"The whole force of which you speak."</p>
+<p>"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day
+this morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."</p>
+<p>"Do you know who commands them?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Who is it?"</p>
+<p>"General Branch."</p>
+<p>"Did you see him?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+<p>"How then do you know that he is in command?"</p>
+<p>"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not
+know that General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know
+that the troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."</p>
+<p>"How did you learn it? A man told you?"</p>
+<p>"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."</p>
+<p>"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.</p>
+<p>I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers.
+It was easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I
+was telling the truth.</p>
+<p>In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and
+accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once
+handed the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in
+little more than two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and
+made my report.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with
+valuable results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not
+moved, and that he would gladly send a statement of my work to
+General Grover, and would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme
+until actually ordered back to the left. He then told me to go back
+to my quarters and rest; that I must get all the rest I could, and
+as quickly as possible.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me,
+to shield my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon
+at Dr. Khayme's tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing
+off the hot blanket. Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised
+her hands; in an instant she sat again, trembling. She was very
+white.</p>
+<p>"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you:
+Father prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at
+the earliest." She was still all a-tremble.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide
+from all eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the
+Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is;
+he said he should be back to supper."</p>
+<p>Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have
+had hard work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to
+know what success you have had."</p>
+<p>"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.</p>
+<p>"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all
+night with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to
+learn."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest
+till he comes, although I should like to hear all about it."</p>
+<p>"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be
+plain with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with
+all the clothes I've got."</p>
+<p>She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You
+need rest, though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get
+some sleep."</p>
+<p>When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would
+not come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand
+open the tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and
+saw my name on the package, which proved to contain a new uniform.
+I dressed and went out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking
+supper. I asked him who gave him the package he had put into the
+tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done sont me wid a note to de ginnle
+en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en' dat man he gimme de
+bunnle."</p>
+<p>The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a
+detailed account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with
+interest as I talked, and Lydia saying not a word.</p>
+<p>When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for
+her interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I
+was trying to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new
+uniform, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her
+father.</p>
+<p>Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and
+torn--that I pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not
+knowing what else to do."</p>
+<p>"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the
+conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack
+Built."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the
+note. I am thinking that I'll become a collector of
+autographs."</p>
+<p>"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the
+log, come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he
+was trying to desert?"</p>
+<p>"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered
+with him. Speed was what I wanted just then."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he
+can come."</p>
+<p>"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said
+Lydia; "if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray
+us?"</p>
+<p>"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the
+simple truth," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had
+accepted his company."</p>
+<p>"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain
+Lewis,"--the Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by
+his name,--"in talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your
+voice loud enough for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved
+you at once."</p>
+<p>"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at
+all. Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones
+would have settled matters."</p>
+<p>"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you
+were Roderick Dhu."</p>
+<p>"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact,
+all those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect
+that the captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command
+in front of Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and
+that he blustered to hide his scare."</p>
+<p>It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The
+Doctor had smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not
+fill it again. He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have
+done a good day's work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched
+between two days. General Morell ought to reward you."</p>
+<p>"I do not want any reward," said I.</p>
+<p>"You would not like a commission?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.</p>
+<p>"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to
+you in many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be
+really lighter, but you would command more respect from others.
+That captain of the lancers will not think of apologizing to you;
+but if he knew you as Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to
+write you a note. If promotion is offered you,--and it ought to be
+offered,--you ought not to refuse it."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that
+way."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2>
+<h3>THE BATTLE OF HANOVER</h3>
+<center>"The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.<br>
+Here is the guess of their true strength and forces<br>
+By diligent discovery; but your haste<br>
+Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General
+Morell.</p>
+<p>"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard
+work. Have you had a good rest?"</p>
+<p>I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I
+had suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.</p>
+<p>"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you
+must help me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn
+will come, too, some day."</p>
+<p>"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"</p>
+<p>"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been
+fully corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some
+six to ten regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or
+was there last night, and is supposed to be there now. A division
+of this army will march against Branch. Now I will show you what
+you must do for us. Here," pointing on the map to a road running
+south, along the railroad from Hanover Court-House, "here you see
+the road you were on with the wagons. At this point--a mile and a
+half or two miles southeast of Hanover--is the road running down
+the river--the road you followed after crossing Crump's Creek. The
+force which will march against Branch will be sufficient to crush
+him, and we must prevent him from escaping in the direction of
+Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on his right.
+Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--<i>his</i>
+right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into
+the Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should
+simply drive him toward Richmond."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I see," said I.</p>
+<p>"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and
+nearer Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a
+considerable distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he
+has been put where he is for the purpose of observing our right and
+rear until he is re&euml;nforced. On the 23d, we occupied
+Mechanicsville, and our possession of that place may have so
+interfered with or so threatened Branch's plans that he will make
+some movement. The truth is, to be frank with you, he is in a false
+position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction at once and unite
+there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march from
+Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
+army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want
+you to understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you,
+and because I think I can trust you."</p>
+<p>"Well, General?"</p>
+<p>"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do
+in a critical moment."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our
+attack should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover
+Court-House, and find that the rebels have left that place and have
+moved further south, we shall be attacking their left instead of
+their right, and they can retreat toward Richmond. In case they
+have moved south, we must not march on the Court-House; we must
+attack their right, wherever that may be. Now, that is what you
+must do for us: find out where Branch's right flank rests before we
+make the attack."</p>
+<p>"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."</p>
+<p>"Exactly."</p>
+<p>"When do you march, General?"</p>
+<p>"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You
+will have to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next
+day."</p>
+<p>"I can see one thing, General."</p>
+<p>"What is that?"</p>
+<p>"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of
+its moving after I report."</p>
+<p>"Very well; hang to it."</p>
+<p>"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I
+do hang to it."</p>
+<p>"As much help as you want."</p>
+<p>"Have you another man as good as Jones?"</p>
+<p>"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"</p>
+<p>"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be
+thoroughly depended upon."</p>
+<p>"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you
+want, and anything else that you want--speak out."</p>
+<p>"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for
+you, General?"</p>
+<p>"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of
+Branch!"</p>
+<p>"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is
+Jones and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be
+found, I want only Jones."</p>
+<p>"What would be your plans?"</p>
+<p>"I should report by the third man the first information of
+importance; then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang
+to it myself, and report if it moves. You will need to know where
+Branch's right is at the moment when you are ready to strike--not
+where it was an hour before."</p>
+<p>"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be
+found."</p>
+<p>"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such
+a man. He might get himself caught and endanger your whole
+plan."</p>
+<p>"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I
+must tell you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the
+movement. Warren is now at Old Church; he will march by the road
+that you were on yesterday, while we march upon roads at his left.
+You understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General."</p>
+<p>"Then that is all."</p>
+<p>"May I say a word, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; certainly."</p>
+<p>"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a
+shorter distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement
+before they know of yours, they will almost be sure to change
+position."</p>
+<p>"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed
+not to attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to
+General Porter again about this."</p>
+<p>"Can I see Jones, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"</p>
+<p>"To-morrow morning, sir."</p>
+<p>"At what hour?"</p>
+<p>"After breakfast."</p>
+<p>"Can you think of nothing else you need?"</p>
+<p>"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."</p>
+<p>"Nothing else?"</p>
+<p>"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about
+that, but I know that Dr. Khayme has none."</p>
+<p>"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.</p>
+<p>"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I
+could not help him."</p>
+<p>"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet
+laughing.</p>
+<p>"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for
+it."</p>
+<p>"Well, I'll send it through Jones."</p>
+<p>"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."</p>
+<p>"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own,
+or rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there
+anything about it to betray me?"</p>
+<p>"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you
+have thought of everything?"</p>
+<p>"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind
+before we start, I'll let you know."</p>
+<p>"Be sure to do it."</p>
+<p>Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man
+named Frank were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I
+learned, was chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones
+what we should need, and he promised to be ready.</p>
+<p>In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia
+sat silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left
+wing had crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried
+to start an argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by
+war, but meeting no encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is
+that I needed rest and sleep. When the Doctor had had his first
+smoke, Lydia rose and took his pipe from him. "We must tell Mr.
+Berwick good night, Father. He has work to do to-morrow."</p>
+<p>The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia
+was right. Lydia did not laugh.</p>
+<p>Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly
+refreshed. While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in
+with me, Jones and Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and
+we soon were off.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across
+the Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and
+work our way toward the Confederate right and rear.</p>
+<p>We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far
+above the place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and
+then took to the woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had
+ascertained from the map, was at the west of the railroad. We were
+now on neutral ground. The usual order of our advance was Jones in
+the lead, I following him at not more than forty yards, and Frank
+coming behind me at more than twice that distance. Jones was
+directed to halt and ride back every time that he should see
+anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have occasion to
+observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
+Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
+order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
+fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he
+waved his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I
+had pulled up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke
+in front."</p>
+<p>I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no
+noise, but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees,
+which, he said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was
+directed to dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn
+what caused it. He returned very soon, and said there was a house
+in a small field just before us, and that a wide road ran in front
+of the house. We made a detour and passed on.</p>
+<p>About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the
+road, as I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about
+halfway between Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across
+the Chickahominy, and still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of
+one of its branches. We crossed the road, selecting a place where
+there were two sudden bends, and looking well both ways before
+venturing. After crossing, I directed Jones to take his stand near
+the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road from the upper bend,
+while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had made in crossing
+the road. We were now within less than a mile of the Virginia
+Central railroad.</p>
+<p>I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went
+with Jones toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or
+rather as far from it as he could be and yet see it. Then I
+returned to Frank and took his place, directing him to find Jones
+and then occupy a position as nearly as possible halfway between
+Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect me with Jones and to
+care for the three horses, which were brought together in the
+centre lest they should be heard. We were now in position to
+observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
+Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
+the night.</p>
+<p>From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for
+half the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of
+course, that I could hear the trains. Rain had set in at
+nightfall.</p>
+<p>About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up
+the road. I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining,
+I could make out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a
+company. I concluded that the rebels were to the north of us, that
+is to say, that if they had moved at all, they were yet between us
+and Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much
+more definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones.
+The three of us then made north, through the woods, leading our
+horses. We had a hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the
+trees struck our faces. There was hardly enough light to see the
+trunks of the trees. At last we reached an opening through which I
+feared to advance.</p>
+<p>We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The
+rebels were yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might
+be anywhere--might be upon us at any moment.</p>
+<p>Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to
+find that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the
+north. I returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road
+and continued north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half
+a mile. It was now nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods
+on this dark night there was little fear of encountering any enemy;
+their cavalry pickets would be in the roads.</p>
+<p>I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles
+from us, and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we
+ought soon to see the light of his camp-fires.</p>
+<p>Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of
+us. I directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should
+halt, with his horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I
+went forward on foot, Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At
+the bottom of the hill I found a small stream. Bidding Jones return
+to Frank and bring him and all the horses up to the branch, I went
+up the next hill, still in the open. At the top of the hill I found
+a straggling thicket of small pines, not more than a hundred feet
+in width; from the far side of this thicket I saw more open ground
+before me. I went back, hoping to find my comrades at the branch.
+As I went down the hill I heard them coming down the opposite
+slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the horses
+struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
+and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until
+daylight.</p>
+<p>The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep
+them from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left
+as far as the road, and to return and examine the ground to our
+right for a few hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I
+went forward nearly half a mile, going first over open ground, then
+through a thick but narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a
+hill from which I could see through the rain a dim light which I
+supposed was caused by camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my
+left, at a considerable distance--perhaps more than a mile
+away.</p>
+<p>Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the
+road was only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with
+woods on the other side of it, and that on our right there was
+nothing but a wood which extended to a swamp.</p>
+<p>Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they
+rolled themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine
+bush. The rain was pouring down.</p>
+<p>At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our
+way across the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would
+soon, wash out all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved
+southward some miles, increasing his distance from the
+Pamunkey.</p>
+<p>We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our
+forces again. Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and
+Frank in the centre. We moved northward, stopping every hundred
+yards or so, to be certain that our communications were intact.
+Jones was so near the railroad that I began to think the train of
+cars I had heard running had not been on the Central, but farther
+away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in this place runs
+almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the westward. In
+the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a greater
+distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me suspect
+that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for we
+should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
+decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
+toward the rear of the enemy's camp.</p>
+<p>It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the
+railroad. We still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad
+at our right at distances varying from one hundred to three hundred
+yards. We ascended a low hill, from which there might have been a
+good lookout but for the rain. I used General Morell's glass, but
+could not make out anything in front.</p>
+<p>Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than
+half a mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets
+must be very near to us.</p>
+<p>Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men
+keep a close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness
+to bring me my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the
+possibility of detection and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I
+found at the bottom of it a small brook flowing northeastward, and
+changed my course at once to suit the stream. I went slowly and
+cautiously on through weeds and bushes, sometimes wading down the
+stream itself, the water being already very muddy from the rains,
+and at last, while bending to right and left and up and down
+seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
+infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing
+south, and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west
+side of the railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved
+from Hanover Court-House, or else that here was another body of men
+who had taken position on his right.</p>
+<p>Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the
+hill, and directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to
+General Morell or General Porter, who would no doubt be met
+advancing on the road, and report that the enemy had taken such a
+position that in order to reach his right flank it would be
+necessary for the Union troops to cross to the west side of the
+Central railroad some miles south of Hanover Court-House. I
+directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch had
+really moved or had been re&euml;nforced, and to say that I should
+endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
+through Jones.</p>
+<p>Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.</p>
+<p>I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw
+that all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to
+sentiment.</p>
+<p>My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket,
+with which I had been covered all night as a protection from the
+rain. I took nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed
+Jones to remain where he was, and if I should not return in one
+hour, to conclude that I was entangled with the enemy, and that I
+could not get away in time; that he must assume from my absence
+that the rebel right extended far, because if it did not I should
+return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must start to meet our
+advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber himself with
+my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in the day.
+I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before the
+advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
+upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell
+before dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended
+the situation, and promised to follow my instructions.</p>
+<p>Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette;
+he was yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore,
+stretched across the branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a
+gully which favoured me, and crept to my left up the hill. At the
+top of the hill I entered thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and
+looked and listened. Drums could be heard toward the north, and
+seemingly nearer than before; I thought I could hear the long roll,
+and feared that the Union advance was already known by the
+Confederates.</p>
+<p>Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very
+slowly. My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in
+it, folded and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was
+already wet. Again I went forward slowly. Soon I saw another
+vedette, facing south. I retired, and made progress rapidly through
+the woods to my left; then I crawled up a long distance. I had
+hoped to be able to determine the right of the enemy's pickets and
+then return to Jones and send him with my report, while I should
+remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops when Jones should have
+succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found the pickets posted
+in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a very
+difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
+Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a
+prudent approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I
+would retreat through the woods until I was out of danger; then I
+would go fifty or a hundred yards to my left, and approach, again
+on my hands and knees until I discovered a man, when I would
+retreat again, and so on alternately. At one place I saw the
+picket-line itself stretching across the top of an open hill, with
+the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the hollow in front. I was
+compelled to go almost entirely around a field, taking a back track
+for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward again on the west
+side of the field.</p>
+<p>About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped
+in one respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more
+alert, and I felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the
+line. I made another advance, and this time continued advancing,
+for to my gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in
+front of me. I thought at first that it had been thrown back here,
+and that I was now going along the western front.</p>
+<p>To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went
+perhaps three hundred yards without finding anything, and felt
+convinced that there was no western front to the rebel line. I
+continued to advance eastward, going straight toward the railroad.
+At length I had gone a quarter of a mile, and had found
+nothing.</p>
+<p>Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been
+withdrawn while I was going around the field, and I conjectured
+that the Confederates had become aware of the approach of our
+column, and had retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our
+advancing troops.</p>
+<p>Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
+southeasterly direction.</p>
+<p>For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be
+well to state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the
+cavalry under General Emory, at the head of our column, and had
+reported to him as well as to General Morell; and that our column
+had advanced by the road we had left, had thrown out a
+skirmish-line which extended beyond the railroad, but not far
+enough, and had continued to advance until the enemy were felt.</p>
+<p>The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were
+of Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning
+of the battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.</p>
+<p>At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North
+Carolina under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head
+of Crump's Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column,
+which had thus interposed, without knowing it, between the two
+bodies of Confederates. At the first warning of the Union advance,
+General Branch had formed his troops facing the east and southeast,
+and covering the Ashcake road, which runs in a sort of semicircle
+from the Hanover road to Ashland on the west, so that the attack of
+the Union forces against the main body of rebels merely forced them
+to give ground in the direction of Ashland. Lane, at Taliaferro's
+Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did later in the
+afternoon with considerable loss.</p>
+<p>Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having
+moved somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our
+troops. I soon became aware of this fact by seeing straggling
+Confederate soldiers in the woods in several directions; some of
+them seemed to be wounded.</p>
+<p>Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this
+time it was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of
+battle were advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me,
+giving me no attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining
+still, however, but walking about in the woods in order to prevent
+the possibility of being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited
+the issue.</p>
+<p>Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I
+began to fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.</p>
+<p>An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a
+southeasterly direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring
+to throw a force in the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on
+nearly to Hanover Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment,
+leaving Branch on their left flank and in position to do great
+damage<a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2">[2]</a>. Branch
+attacked vigorously, but was eventually forced back. Again men
+began to rush by me, and this time some of them were in actual
+flight. There were many wounded; gradually the woods were scattered
+over with a regiment or two, the troops showing various degrees of
+disorganization, some of the companies holding together and
+retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups, were making their
+way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet all in the
+same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
+rallying-place.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a>
+On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's
+brigade. The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the
+Pamunkey, no doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating
+northward. Lane was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch
+for some days; the story of his retreat and return to Branch is
+very interesting. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I
+decided quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for
+me to remain an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I
+thought, too, that it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out
+of this mass of men by going in a northerly or southerly direction,
+either of which would be taking them in line, if they could be said
+to have a line. I saw, of course, that if I should simply stop--it
+would have been easy to play the wounded Confederate--the Union
+troops would soon pick me up; but I wanted to see where the
+defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly wounded, I suppose,
+threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up the gun--an
+Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to me, the
+disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
+stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw
+away. I soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my
+own canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the
+rebels--I became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.</p>
+<p>No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen.
+The Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon
+make a stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the
+contagion and ran along with running men, although I was sure that
+organised bodies were now covering our rear. I had no distinct
+purpose except to determine the new line.</p>
+<p>After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of
+the scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding
+about and trying to make the men get into some sort of formation.
+Evening was near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me
+the brigade would be formed again and would make a new stand, or
+else retreat in better order in the night.</p>
+<p>I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but
+felt confident that Jones would recover him.</p>
+<p>As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at
+last ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line
+across a road running to the westward, which I believed, from my
+knowledge of the map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this
+forming line I hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make
+no pretence of joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far
+from it. Then the thought came to me that these disorganized
+battalions ware forming in any shape they could now take--men
+belonging to different companies, and even to different regiments,
+being side by side; so I got into line with them.</p>
+<p>I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a
+spy might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.</p>
+<p>The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the
+soldier, but they were very bitter against some general or other
+unknown to me, and equally so to them, as it appeared; he had
+allowed them to be defeated when they could easily have been
+re&euml;nforced. From the talk which I heard I drew the inference
+that there was a large force of Confederates within supporting
+distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me so
+greatly that I determined to remain longer with these
+troops--perhaps even until the next day.</p>
+<p>It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I
+could see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road
+to Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not
+see it; but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still
+unbroken, under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It
+would have been very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time,
+either to the right or to the left, into the woods--or into open
+ground for that matter--and get away, but such was not now my
+intention.</p>
+<p>The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while
+on the march to find their respective regiments and companies.
+Mounted men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying
+out: "Flag of Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is
+behind you," and so on, thus telling the men where to find their
+commands. It was really good work, I thought. A little before
+midnight--or it may have been much earlier, for I was well-nigh
+worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads which I afterward knew
+to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond roads about a mile
+and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men could easily find
+their commands, and I knew that perfect organization would be
+effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
+formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.</p>
+<p>By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east
+for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first
+spreading my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted
+almost to exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my
+predecessor's haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food,
+and slept soundly the remainder of the night.</p>
+<p>At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I
+found in the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my
+gun and accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three
+bands; the cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single
+waist-belt, the scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no
+bayonet. The brass plate on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S.
+plate; the belt-buckle also was Federal; both plate and buckle had
+been turned upside down, so that each bore the inverted letters S
+U. There were a few cartridges in the box--such cartridges as I had
+not seen before. I found that the rifle was not loaded, and I
+allowed it to remain empty.</p>
+<p>After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had
+gone. I examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud
+were pointing toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time
+openly in the road, for I was as good a Confederate as need be
+unless I should be overtaken by any of our own men. I considered
+now that this force of the enemy was likely to establish connection
+at once with the main Confederate lines near Richmond, if indeed it
+had not already done so, and that if I should turn southward I
+should be in danger of being forced into the ranks and questioned,
+so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine if possible the
+left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme left of the
+whole Confederate army.</p>
+<p>In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of
+the village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an
+hour after sunrise placed myself in observation between the
+Fredericksburg railroad and the Richmond road, which here run
+parallel due north and about half a mile apart. I was facing
+south.</p>
+<p>About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the
+rear of my left the Richmond road full of troops marching
+southward. I crawled up as near to the road as I dared, and watched
+them. There seemed to be but one regiment, which was a large one.
+Three or four officers rode at the head of the regiment; one, who I
+supposed was the colonel, was a large, heavy-built man who sat his
+horse proudly<a name="FNanchor3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3">[3]</a>.
+The men marched at the route step; the regiment was in fine order.
+In the centre were two flags: one an ordinary Confederate
+battle-flag; the other an immense blue banner, emblazoned with the
+silver palmetto tree. I could not tell the number of the regiment,
+although by this time I had my glass fixed on the flag. The
+Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed, entered Ashland.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor3">[3]</a>
+Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
+Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina.
+[Ed.]</blockquote>
+<p>I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained
+in this position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement.
+At nightfall I crept up nearer to the village and found a
+comfortable resting-place in an old haystack, east of the
+place.</p>
+<p>The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad,
+with the purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied
+by the rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw
+three Union soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at
+the same time. One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw
+up my hands. They belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry.
+I easily succeeded in proving to the lieutenant in command, who
+soon rode up at the head of the company, and whose name I learned
+was Watkins, that I was a Union scout. The sight of General
+Morell's glass had its effect.</p>
+<p>I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong
+force in Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town.
+The lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash
+into the place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in
+our hands. In the village were some stragglers who also were made
+prisoners. We remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry
+securing much property. There were a good many horses taken, one of
+which the lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.</p>
+<p>The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all
+the country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was
+nothing to hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The
+general told me that they had given me up for lost, and asked what
+had become of me after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my
+work, and he was pleased to say that he approved of what I had
+done. He told me that Jones had recovered the horse that I had
+abandoned.</p>
+<p>As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering
+it; the tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle;
+then I called him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few
+words I told him of my work, and why I had been away so long.</p>
+<p>"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to
+Lydia, too, who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded
+from your battle."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XIX"></a>XIX</h2>
+<h3>THE ACCURSED NIGHT</h3>
+<center>"If ever I were traitor, My name be blotted from the book
+of life, And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very
+tired, although I had had a good rest the night before, and
+alternations of walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon
+despatched, and the Doctor got his pipe.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on
+your own dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake
+brought it."</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can
+content myself till bedtime as I am."</p>
+<p>"How long have you had it on?"</p>
+<p>"Almost two days."</p>
+<p>"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"</p>
+<p>"Not just at this moment, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians
+again?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."</p>
+<p>"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."</p>
+<p>"It was the First, very likely," said he.</p>
+<p>This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many
+times before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr.
+Khayme. I thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was
+that he obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.</p>
+<p>"Why should you think so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications
+with our Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with
+Charleston. I know that the First South Carolina regiment was on
+Sullivan's Island early in 1861, some months before the bombardment
+of Fort Sumter, and I remember reading in the <i>Mercury</i> that
+the ladies of Charleston had presented the First with a very heavy
+blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver palmetto and
+crescent."</p>
+<p>"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto
+and the crescent."</p>
+<p>"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one
+of the regiments which were lately under Anderson near
+Fredericksburg, and we know that Anderson's force has fallen back
+on Richmond. It must have passed through Ashland very
+recently."</p>
+<p>"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to
+know," said I, musingly.</p>
+<p>"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."</p>
+<p>"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and
+somebody had recognized me?"</p>
+<p>"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might
+have recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet
+might have sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to
+everybody at school that you were from the North?"</p>
+<p>"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of
+course, some of the boys knew it."</p>
+<p>"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man
+in the Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."</p>
+<p>"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their
+homes; that is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who
+reason, and the others don't count."</p>
+<p>"They might at least be neutral," I said.</p>
+<p>"How could they think that being neutral would defend their
+homes?"</p>
+<p>"And you think that the Southern people really believe their
+homes in danger?"</p>
+<p>"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen
+more than one Southern home destroyed?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South,
+far away from the armies."</p>
+<p>"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from
+armies; to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also.
+I wonder what's the matter with us."</p>
+<p>"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true,
+I have been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you.
+Our trades, however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this
+time, if ever."</p>
+<p>"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't
+wish to," said I.</p>
+<p>"You need never fight another battle," said he.</p>
+<p>"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day;
+you ought not to fight at all."</p>
+<p>"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"</p>
+<p>"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."</p>
+<p>"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall
+likely be required to do both."</p>
+<p>"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the
+Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is
+not very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of
+course, you can do so if you insist upon it."</p>
+<p>"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"</p>
+<p>"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."</p>
+<p>"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh
+unless I had other work at the time."</p>
+<p>"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your
+cause, or your poorest?"</p>
+<p>"Can I not do both?"</p>
+<p>"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and
+make an art of it."</p>
+<p>"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a
+terrible thought to me."</p>
+<p>"Why so?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."</p>
+<p>"You allude to your memory?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What effect does spying have upon you?"</p>
+<p>"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted
+in my life as when I came back on the 24th."</p>
+<p>"You had had a hard time, no doubt."</p>
+<p>"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I
+believe that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was
+a Union soldier."</p>
+<p>"That only shows that you acted your part."</p>
+<p>"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a
+Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the
+next moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."</p>
+<p>"Very likely."</p>
+<p>"I'd prefer being in the ranks."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your
+sufferings?"</p>
+<p>"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly
+contrasted with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I
+become another, and I can see two of me at once."</p>
+<p>"And that proves painful?"</p>
+<p>"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order
+to succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."</p>
+<p>"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones;
+the relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But
+for your recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent
+real and practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could
+not become, in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends
+largely on memory. The extraordinary vividness of your memory
+produces a corresponding vividness in imagining. You see how
+valuable are your peculiar powers. I have no doubt that with a
+little data concerning some narrow section of the South, such as
+knowledge of family names and family history, you could join the
+Confederate army and play a most important role, giving to your
+generals information of contemplated movements as well as of
+movements, in actual progress."</p>
+<p>"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a
+life."</p>
+<p>"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my
+emotion; "I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more
+likely to confirm your intermittent states. What you need is to get
+rid entirely of any necessity for the exercise of either memory or
+imagination for a time. To cherish either is to cherish both. On
+the contrary, any great and long-continued interest, which would
+dissociate you from your past, would, in my judgment, prove the end
+of your peculiar states."</p>
+<p>I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time.
+When he spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and
+hope for the best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the
+total. Keep up your spirits. War has many startling opportunities
+as well as disasters."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were
+heard miles away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the
+whole of McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company
+was actually in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report
+for me to our adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the
+Doctor's solicitation, a few words to General Grover.</p>
+<p>This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it,
+raged during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June
+1st, and did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of
+McClellan's left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in
+reserve, and did not become engaged. While the battle was in
+progress, intense but subdued excitement was shown by the men in
+General Morell's command, and by the other troops on the right. On
+the part of all, there was constant expectation of orders to march
+to the help of the Union forces on the further side of the
+Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle came, in which
+our men had more than held their own, disappointment at not being
+chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed to
+feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his
+tent, he busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order
+came from General Morell for me to report to him at once.</p>
+<p>Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two
+officers unknown to me. The one who most attracted my
+attention--though I was careful not to show any curiosity--was a
+man of nearly forty years, of medium height and muscular frame. His
+hair was dark; his mustache very slightly tinged with gray. His
+manner indicated an extremely nervous sense of responsibility, and
+the attitude of deference, which the others observed in his regard,
+was very noticeable. His face reminded me vaguely of some
+portrait--I knew not whose.</p>
+<p>The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and
+of a more cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single
+opportunity. He seemed to be on a very familiar footing with the
+officer whom I have first mentioned.</p>
+<p>General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers.
+In the middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was
+spread, and around which the three officers were sitting. General
+Morell allowed me to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some
+words of a conversation which I supposed had been practically
+finished before I entered.</p>
+<p>"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the
+smaller officer.</p>
+<p>"Perfectly," said General Morell.</p>
+<p>The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.</p>
+<p>"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know
+certainly whether we have the means in hand."</p>
+<p>The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one
+way, then in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty
+our present purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single
+man?"</p>
+<p>"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not
+divulge our intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a
+reconnaissance."</p>
+<p>"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is
+serious."</p>
+<p>"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell
+has confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own
+way."</p>
+<p>"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any
+plan might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I
+should say that we have nine chances out of ten."</p>
+<p>"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the
+others rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."</p>
+<p>The three now left the tent, while I remained.</p>
+<p>I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any
+title given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles
+had been suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not
+know, but that they were in great authority was not to be doubted;
+I made a wild guess that one was General Porter and the smaller man
+some trusted staff-officer from army headquarters<a name=
+"FNanchor4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4">[4]</a>.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor4">[4]</a>
+Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick
+describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts
+in the newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression.
+It is not a matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before
+been in the presence of the great general. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the
+table, then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At
+length he looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick,
+it is absolutely necessary for us here on this flank to get
+accurate information of the enemy's strength, and as soon as
+possible."</p>
+<p>"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his
+left wing."</p>
+<p>"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or
+not, it must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the
+country, with the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can
+be plainly seen from our lines. We do not know how well fortified,
+or how many, are the troops opposed to us. We have information, but
+we fear that it is not reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in
+some of the most essential points. We do not know the length of the
+enemy's line; we suppose it rests on the James River above Richmond
+as well as below Richmond. That makes too long a line to be very
+strong in all its parts. Their left may be a mere skirmish-line;
+their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some parts of their line
+must be very thin, and it is suspected that their left is the
+thinnest part."</p>
+<p>To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force
+under Anderson from Fredericksburg has re&euml;nforced the army now
+under Lee, and we are not sure what position it holds. The force
+under Jackson causes great apprehension. From several quarters we
+get rumours of an intention or supposed intention of Lee to march
+Jackson against our right. If there is such a purpose, we ought, by
+all means, to anticipate the movement. If we are ever to attack, it
+ought not to be after Jackson re&euml;nforces Lee."</p>
+<p>While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon
+myself than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were
+readily understood: their implications in regard to myself were
+equally clear; he wanted me to serve again as a getter of
+information. My stomach rose against my trade; I had become
+nauseated--I don't know a better word --with this spying business.
+The strain upon me had been too great; the 23d and 24th of May had
+brought to my mental nature transitions too sudden and entire to be
+wholesome; I felt that only a positive command to enter the rebel
+lines would justify me in doing myself such violence again; I had
+begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.</p>
+<p>"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the
+man for our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"</p>
+<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more
+with the view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any
+intention of heeding his wishes.</p>
+<p>"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his
+left," said he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on
+our extreme right; we want you to find out what is opposite our
+right and what force extends beyond our front. The enemy's line
+curves or else has a salient somewhere beyond this point; his line
+turns somewhere and extends in some form to the James River. Find
+that salient or curve; ascertain its strength and the strength of
+their left, or western face."</p>
+<p>"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked,
+somewhat hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how
+impossible would be my suggestion.</p>
+<p>"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's
+lines," said the general.</p>
+<p>It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice
+in the matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered
+me; but I was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to
+explain my reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity
+I should suffer the loss of his respect--something I did not wish
+to forfeit.</p>
+<p>"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night;
+remain a day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night.
+The distance is not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few
+miles within their lines."</p>
+<p>Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no
+doubt that he honestly believed the reputed charm of such
+adventures fascinated me as well as others. But if that man on that
+accursed night of June had seen what was going on in me, he would
+have been far from choosing Jones Berwick as the man to send upon
+an enterprise that demanded a fixed purpose and an undisturbed
+mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme to see to it that I
+had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should follow
+worse.</p>
+<p>But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how
+could I presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general
+of a division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable,
+and who, as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments
+only, in order that he might accomplish a purpose.</p>
+<p>I must decline or accept without explaining.</p>
+<p>"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is
+wrong?"</p>
+<p>Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no
+longer; "I should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I
+said.</p>
+<p>He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he
+asked; then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection,
+however; Dr. Khayme will help rather than hinder."</p>
+<p>"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser
+than I am; if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as
+you say, General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great
+help."</p>
+<p>"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want
+with Dr. Khayme?"</p>
+<p>"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."</p>
+<p>"And what is the time now?"</p>
+<p>"Ten o'clock."</p>
+<p>"Can you wait my answer an hour?"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.</p>
+<p>The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being
+treated as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if
+not--if the general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and
+good--I would obey without further delay or hesitation.</p>
+<p>I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go
+into the enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into
+the enemy's lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my
+answer an hour."</p>
+<p>"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.</p>
+<p>I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no
+unpleasantness. Though scouts are under orders just as other men
+are, it is not hard to understand that generals feel it necessary
+to be somewhat delicate in their treatment of such peculiar
+servants. I suppose that, in the mind of a general, there always
+exists some fear that his spies will not prove as diligent and
+self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in my treatment of
+General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear: such a course
+would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the effect of
+my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much
+upon the apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to
+apologize. Give me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it,
+and without mental reservation."</p>
+<p>"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any
+order to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you
+know, too, that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."</p>
+<p>"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer
+that you send some other man on this expedition."</p>
+<p>"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this
+present work."</p>
+<p>"Then order me to go, General."</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in
+one hour if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me
+his hand.</p>
+<p>As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the
+work offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some
+effect on me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me;
+perhaps the mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak,
+had exaggerated my fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at
+any rate, before I had reached the Doctor I was beginning to
+sympathize with General Morell, whose responsibility was so great,
+and whose evident desire to conciliate had touched me, and was
+wishing that I could have served him. Then, too, the question came
+to me what would General Morell do in case my refusal was final?
+And I had little doubt that the correct reply was: He will command
+me. And, in that case, our relationship would be weakened
+unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly. Yet,
+with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this
+frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute
+could occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter
+extreme of mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of
+mental danger, could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.</p>
+<p>To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no
+embarrassment; I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered
+by a doubt as to how much I should tell him of the necessity which
+prompted the demand for my work. The three generals had spoken of
+important matters before me, or at least hinted at them, and
+General Morell had been still more communicative. I made up my mind
+to say nothing of these matters to the Doctor.</p>
+<p>When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his
+writing. As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from
+his seat.</p>
+<p>"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."</p>
+<p>He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it
+is only a momentary unsteadiness."</p>
+<p>Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was
+then in Dr. Khayme's.</p>
+<p>I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor
+placed a finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking
+for both of us."</p>
+<p>He rose and brought me water, and I drank.</p>
+<p>Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must
+make with his will against impulse is not easy, especially with
+some natures; and a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield
+once is to become weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"</p>
+<p>I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew
+I could not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew
+the mind if ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was
+going on in the mind by the language of the features and the body.
+Especially did he know me. But possibly his knowledge was only
+general; he might infer, from apparent symptoms, that some mental
+trouble was now pressing hard upon me, and, without knowing the
+special nature of the trouble, might be prescribing the exercise of
+the will as a general remedy. Yet it mattered nothing to me, at the
+moment, I thought, how he knew.</p>
+<p>"You will not yield," said he.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of
+Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.</p>
+<p>"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to
+the little cottage in Charleston?"</p>
+<p>I nodded.</p>
+<p>"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to
+will. Do you remember it?"</p>
+<p>Again I nodded assent.</p>
+<p>"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free.
+If I should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no
+good. All that I can do is to say that the will is free."</p>
+<p>His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he
+said, although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I
+should surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former
+ground. Yet I doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I
+wished that he would speak again.</p>
+<p>"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be
+unobserved, or dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man
+accustomed to keep himself in subjection can fail to distinguish
+temptation from surrender."</p>
+<p>How well he could read me!</p>
+<p>"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily
+weakness, or through fear--- which is the same thing. But he who
+can will when he desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."</p>
+<p>I put his hand away and rose.</p>
+<p>"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.</p>
+<p>"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.</p>
+<p>"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies
+you?"</p>
+<p>"I go alone."</p>
+<p>He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He
+understood.</p>
+<p>"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen
+your body."</p>
+<p>He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured
+a spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.</p>
+<p>"It will be slow and last long," said he.</p>
+<p>He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he
+turned the pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I
+needed.</p>
+<p>"Do you go armed?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."</p>
+<p>He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the
+haversack, and put food in it.</p>
+<p>Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."</p>
+<p>"Anything you wish, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."</p>
+<p>It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.</p>
+<p>"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this
+book. Turn to May 23d. I will dictate."</p>
+<p>It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages
+divided into sections, which were headed with dates for the year
+1862.</p>
+<p>"Turn to May 23d," he had said.</p>
+<p>"I have it," said I.</p>
+<p>"Read the date," said he.</p>
+<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."</p>
+<p>"Now write."</p>
+<p>The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--</p>
+<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather
+clear."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862. "On camp guard. Letters from home.
+Showers. Marched at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862. "Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at
+night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862. "Marched but a few miles. Day very hot.
+Weather bad. Heavy rain at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched
+past--"</p>
+<p>"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the
+Doctor asked.</p>
+<p>"Branch's."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had
+been fighting.'"</p>
+<p>Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and
+write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the
+book lengthwise, and write Jones."</p>
+<p>I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."</p>
+<p>I put a capital B after Jones.</p>
+<p>"Let me see," said he.</p>
+<p>I showed him the book.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before
+Jones."</p>
+<p>"Have you an eraser?"</p>
+<p>"I'll get one."</p>
+<p>The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B.
+before Jones.</p>
+<p>"We must get that dark spot out," said he.</p>
+<p>He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf,
+so that there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf
+above the writing.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."</p>
+<p>"What is all this for, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect
+you."</p>
+<p>"What time is it, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Ten minutes to eleven."</p>
+<p>"I must go."</p>
+<p>He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me
+bend to him, and kissed me.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me
+through our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My
+mind was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life;
+but the lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly
+understood, and I had voluntarily turned the die for duty after it
+had been cast for ease. All my hesitation had gone, leaving in its
+place disgust kept down by effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing
+in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing; I had desire, but knew it
+unattainable, and renounced its object. I would not hope for a
+happiness that might bring ruin on another.</p>
+<p>To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate;
+life at the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not
+yielded to this feeling even; I would be prudent and would
+accomplish what was hoped for, if my strength should serve.</p>
+<p>In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's
+commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had
+rejected it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to
+first perform a duty for which the honour had been soothingly
+offered.</p>
+<p>My plans--I had no plans. I had started.</p>
+<p>What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I
+was making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for
+an opportunity--that was all.</p>
+<p>The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and
+bush, and many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To
+follow every crook of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of
+the swamp and began to skirt its edge. I looked toward my
+right--the northeast; the sky reflected a dim glow from many dying
+camp-fires. I could see how the low swamp's edge bent in and out,
+and how I could make a straighter course than the river. In some
+places a path was found. Our pickets were supposed to be on the
+edge of the hills behind me.</p>
+<p>My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at
+right angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of
+them successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which
+I knew it would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by
+the Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at
+times to see if it had narrowed.</p>
+<p>About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I
+crossed a railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The
+ground was covered with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and
+was soft and slippery from recent high water. My progress was soon
+interrupted by a stream, flowing sluggishly to my left. I sought a
+crossing. The stream was not deep, but the slippery banks gave me
+great difficulty in the darkness. The water came to my waist; on
+the further side were hollows filled with standing water left by
+the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the Chickahominy.</p>
+<p>Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was
+supposed the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise
+the greatest care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid
+stumbling on one of them in the darkness, was a problem. Very
+likely they were placed from a hundred to two hundred yards apart,
+and near the bank of the stream, if practicable, especially at
+night, for the stream itself would not only be their protection,
+but also, by its difficulty and its splashing, would betray any
+force which should attempt to cross to the south side.</p>
+<p>But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line
+of vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream,
+would require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line,
+and such a line of vedettes could not well be maintained
+constantly--never is maintained, I think, unless an enemy's
+approach is momentarily feared, in which case you frequently have
+no vedettes at all. Following up this thought I concluded that the
+vedettes were, most likely, watching their front from the inner
+bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had its convex side
+toward the north, was my opportunity.</p>
+<p>I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became
+very great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was
+almost completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge
+of the water.</p>
+<p>Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved
+it up and down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the
+ground. To make no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of
+an inch might have caused a loud splash.</p>
+<p>Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in
+it to my knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward,
+raising my foot not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye
+and ear to note the slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to
+my middle.</p>
+<p>I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I
+crawled forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than
+believing, that I was keeping halfway between the sides of the
+bend.</p>
+<p>I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute
+had passed I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other
+at my left. The sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the
+vedette on either side of me was being relieved. My course had been
+right--I was midway between two sentinels.</p>
+<p>How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that
+the pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills.
+Lying there between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that
+a picket-line is relieved early in the day when troops are in
+position, as the armies were now. If I could see the relief coming,
+I would show myself just at the time it arrived, hoping that each
+party would take me to belong to the other.</p>
+<p>But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose
+any one of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan
+impracticable, what then?</p>
+<p>I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would
+make some other plan as I crawled forward.</p>
+<p>At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets?
+That the country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew,
+and I hoped that for this reason their infantry would be less
+watchful; but this thought did not make me any the less prudent and
+slow in my advance. I had easily succeeded in passing the vedettes;
+to avoid the vedette reliefs might not be easy.</p>
+<p>When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just
+beginning to show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and
+pickets? Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought.
+Why not climb? Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the
+thick boughs of a cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at
+least, it could do no good unless in case of sudden necessity. I
+must get through the picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once
+in rear of the Confederate pickets, I should have little or no
+trouble in remaining for days in the camps and in the main lines;
+getting through was the difficulty. Daylight was increasing.</p>
+<p>Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to
+this edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a
+relief come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a
+non-commissioned officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty
+yards of me. I let them pass. They went into the swamp. Five
+minutes later two men returned by the same route, or almost so, but
+came a little nearer to me; I saw them coming and felt for my
+glass, but did not find it. I supposed that Dr. Khayme had
+forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no doubt the same
+non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just relieved
+from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could distinctly
+see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled appearance.
+These men had seen hard service, evidently.</p>
+<p>Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men
+at my left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the
+swamp. These men wore uniforms fresh and clean.</p>
+<p>The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two
+vedettes belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some
+way to take advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to
+no purpose. Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go
+back to the vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man
+of the connecting line? He would probably think that I belonged to
+the command joining his. No doubt I could do this; but what should
+I gain? I should merely be losing time.</p>
+<p>Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate
+vedette between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could
+do so there was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.</p>
+<p>Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going
+forward boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the
+hill. The pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could
+strike between the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing
+might be done. Yet I wanted a better way.</p>
+<p>Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs
+of a tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come.
+They were talking, but I could not hear what they said.</p>
+<p>I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a
+large gully, only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to
+be on their route. The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw
+them no more. My interest was excited. Why had the men gone into
+this gully? There was smoother ground outside. They had a purpose;
+I must find it out.</p>
+<p>Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I
+was on neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least.
+I could not know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every
+two hours. There would probably be nobody passing between vedettes
+and pickets--unless, indeed, some officer should go the rounds of
+the sentinels; that was something I must risk.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of
+the gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view.
+I could now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I
+suspected that the picket-line stretched across it; but there was
+no indication of the purpose which had caused the men to go into
+the gully. My position was a good one, and I waited. I could see a
+part of the picket-line--that is, not the men, but the
+rifle-pits.</p>
+<p>Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an
+oblique direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He
+disappeared. He had gone down into this gully, which, I was now
+confident, separated by its width the pickets of different
+commands. What could this unarmed man be doing in the gully?
+Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping that an opportunity
+had been found.</p>
+<p>Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was
+coming from the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the
+same instant the unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he
+held his canteen in his hand. The situation was clear; there was
+water in the gully; my opportunity had come.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before
+the vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth
+of the gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side
+of the gully; he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the
+man I had seen a moment before. I went into the gully. I must get
+to that spring or pool, or whatever it was, before another man
+should come.</p>
+<p>Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the
+spring--and it was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little
+hollow had been made by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the
+hands, on one side of the gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen
+earth would protect the hole from the midday sun, the only sun
+which could reach the bottom of this ravine, defended by its wall
+on either hand. The hole was so small that only one canteen could
+be filled at a time; but the water was good compared with that of
+the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty of getting pure
+water that justified the relaxation of discipline which permitted
+the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their vedette
+lines.</p>
+<p>Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I
+sat and waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and
+began scraping the mud from my shoes and clothing.</p>
+<p>I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down
+with one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.</p>
+<p>"Fill mine, too," said a voice.</p>
+<p>I did not look up.</p>
+<p>"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o'
+mosquitoes?"</p>
+<p>"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was
+on vydette."</p>
+<p>He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't
+git that mud off that-away; let it dry."</p>
+<p>I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of
+shelf in the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water
+for more than one man.</p>
+<p>"Gimme your canteen," said I.</p>
+<p>He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap
+Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged
+to the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied
+themselves, from battlefields and prisoners, and the greater
+capture of stores, with good Union canteens. Even while I was
+thinking this, he said, "What'll you take to boot 'twixt your
+canteen and mine?"</p>
+<p>"Don't want to swap," said I.</p>
+<p>I filled his canteen.</p>
+<p>"Now, gimme your hand," said I.</p>
+<p>He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it
+took two pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but
+knew that he was a small man.</p>
+<p>He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was
+new. We reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.</p>
+<p>Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill.
+There was a pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty
+feet wide. Had I known of the existence of that gully, I could have
+stolen through the picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had
+it guarded at night.</p>
+<p>"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own
+side?"</p>
+<p>"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.</p>
+<p>He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes
+and his clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He
+walked slowly up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be
+within the picket-line; it took all my will to preserve composure;
+I was glad the man was in front of me. We stepped slowly up the
+hill.</p>
+<p>I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down,
+probably, half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I
+was wishing my leader would speak again. The nervous tension was
+hard. What should I do when we reached the line? I had no plan,
+except to walk on. I wished my leader would continue to march, and
+go past the pits--then I could follow him; the trivial suggestion
+aroused self-contempt; I was thinking of straws to catch at. I must
+strengthen my will.</p>
+<p>He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."</p>
+<p>This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't
+see it, myself."</p>
+<p>"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.</p>
+<p>"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."</p>
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+<p>"So I could get some sleep."</p>
+<p>"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's
+shore."</p>
+<p>"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take
+care of myself."</p>
+<p>"Ben sick?"</p>
+<p>"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."</p>
+<p>"Bilious, I reckon," said he.</p>
+<p>"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."</p>
+<p>"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.</p>
+<p>"Wish I <i>could</i> see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the
+word, mentally, with a capital.</p>
+<p>"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"</p>
+<p>"You don't know my captain," said I.</p>
+<p>"Hard on you, is he?"</p>
+<p>"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out
+here."</p>
+<p>"Bet <i>I'd</i> go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.</p>
+<p>"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"Send a man after me."</p>
+<p>"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet <i>our</i> men won't
+stop you; you don't belong to <i>them</i>."</p>
+<p>This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any
+eagerness. We were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt
+that my friend was marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he
+was surely on the left of his company--he was such a small man.</p>
+<p>"Stop," said I.</p>
+<p>He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow.
+He had the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.</p>
+<p>"You won't give me away?" I said.</p>
+<p>"What do you take me for?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything
+to anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men,
+I'll go."</p>
+<p>"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I
+don't know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want
+to know it; come on."</p>
+<p>He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I
+saw men lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at
+some of the other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where
+my friend had halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to
+cause them to speak. He handed his canteen to one of the men; even
+this man did not speak; he drank.</p>
+<p>I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The
+sun itself could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken
+five minutes, for the pits were not more than a hundred yards from
+the edge of the swamp.</p>
+<p>Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe.
+How far in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could
+not yet tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when
+I reached them.</p>
+<p>As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the
+pits I went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by
+bushes, and I went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast
+direction for nearly an hour. I passed in full sight of the
+picket-line in many places, and fortifications far to my right
+could be seen upon the hills. My purpose was to enter the main
+Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible opposite New
+Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on the
+night before.</p>
+<p>The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I
+sat in a shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best.
+I believed I had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go
+forward. I could see parts of fortifications. No one would think of
+hindering my entrance. I would go into the lines; then I would turn
+to the right and follow out my instructions.</p>
+<p>Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was
+entirely bare of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were
+lines of earthworks. I did not pause; I went straight ahead.</p>
+<p>A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I
+thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would
+bring them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was
+some regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were
+going to relieve the last night's pickets.</p>
+<p>The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I
+heard a cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost
+directly in my rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far
+above my head.</p>
+<p>At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in
+any danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain
+their object on the other side of the Chickahominy.</p>
+<p>The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind
+the line of earthworks.</p>
+<p>I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although
+the shells went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into
+the place of danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no
+tree, no fence, nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and
+bare. I was on this bare hill.</p>
+<p>A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like
+myself, had no doubt come from the picket-line.</p>
+<p>"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for
+the breastworks.</p>
+<p>The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less
+height.</p>
+<p>One of the shells burst over my head.</p>
+<p>Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left
+hand--with great violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious
+that I saw him fall; at the instant there was a deafening noise,
+and I was conscious of nothing.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XX"></a>XX</h2>
+<h3>THE MASK OF IGNORANCE</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I
+am mainly ignorant<br>
+What place this is; and all the skill I have<br>
+Remembers not these garments; nor I know not<br>
+Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>"Who is it?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know."</p>
+<p>My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me
+now. A gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.</p>
+<p>"Hurt bad?"</p>
+<p>"Head mashed."</p>
+<p>"Anybody else?"</p>
+<p>"One more, and <i>he's gone</i>!"</p>
+<p>I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but
+could not.</p>
+<p>I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my
+eyes threatened to break something in my head.</p>
+<p>I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly,
+and to become larger and smaller.</p>
+<p>Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.</p>
+<p>The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went
+by. The blue sky was over me. I did not stir.</p>
+<p>How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that
+I was conscious.</p>
+<p>I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait
+a second!"</p>
+<p>A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines
+... these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night
+sky had been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over
+my head, and the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear
+of insanity. I have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot
+recollect what hurt me....</p>
+<p>But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were
+returning. I could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to
+me, by some unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear
+them step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and
+I could hear them speak, and breathe heavily.</p>
+<p>Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.</p>
+<p>We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a
+field, or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or
+thought I heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep!
+Hep!"--and again, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"</p>
+<p>Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is
+vivid while it lasts.</p>
+<p>Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I
+dreamed that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the
+ground.</p>
+<p>I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were
+strange. They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my
+eyes. I tried to think.</p>
+<p>"There he goes again," said a voice.</p>
+<p>I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face
+bending over me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head
+was bare. He had spectacles. He was not dirty.</p>
+<p>"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.</p>
+<p>I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a
+tent. There were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There
+were forms on the beds.</p>
+<p>The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one
+of them raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I
+supposed so, though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.</p>
+<p>I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man
+with the spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your
+head. You are not hurt badly."</p>
+<p>My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that
+must be true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not
+unreasonable. The man went away.</p>
+<p>But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that
+people awoke before they were hurt.</p>
+<p>The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He
+raised my head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to
+open my mouth, but could not.</p>
+<p>He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head
+in his hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put
+water into it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I
+drank. Both went away.</p>
+<p>The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in
+his hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt
+me; I groaned.</p>
+<p>"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your
+hair a little, so that I can get at you."</p>
+<p>Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my
+head get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll
+promise to go to sleep."</p>
+<p>I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go
+to sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed
+inwardly at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.</p>
+<p>The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank.
+The water did not taste so good as the first draught did.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would
+soon be over.</p>
+<p>When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was
+near me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned,
+while asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another
+man on another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat
+rolled down my face.... Where was I? What was I?</p>
+<p>My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to
+remember how I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the
+place of ... had I dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk
+much water; my throat was parched.</p>
+<p>A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my
+dream ... then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I
+was awake, maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and
+this tent and this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I
+awake I shall laugh at this dream; I shall write it out, because it
+is so complex and strange.</p>
+<p>The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"</p>
+<p>I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The
+man brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers
+on my wrist.</p>
+<p>"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his
+words would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could
+hope for a dream to end. He went away.</p>
+<p>I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my
+head. I felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I
+tried to turn, but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.</p>
+<p>The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and
+raised my head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and
+then went away, leaving me propped up.</p>
+<p>Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but
+feebly against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was
+a man. There were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five;
+five sick men. I wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they
+were all sick in the head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more
+strongly that all this horrible thing is unreal.</p>
+<p>I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, <i>six</i>; how
+is that?</p>
+<p>Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.</p>
+<p>Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they?
+Who am I? I know nothing--nothing.</p>
+<p>The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said,
+"Are you easier?"</p>
+<p>I could not reply. He went away.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort
+brought increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I
+tried to sleep. I tried to quit thinking.</p>
+<p>When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent
+was very bright.</p>
+<p>A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He
+brought a basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face
+and hands, and dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you
+eat some breakfast?" I could not reply.</p>
+<p>The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The
+doctor was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The
+man on the pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I
+could not tell what the doctor said. The man groaned.</p>
+<p>Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to
+feel hungry.</p>
+<p>William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating
+in it. He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank.
+William went away.</p>
+<p>The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from
+outside. What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough
+to the railroad to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not
+from cars. I could hear shouting, as if of wagoners.</p>
+<p>All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the
+sun was shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be
+coming.</p>
+<p>I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would
+not do for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for
+a sick man in a storm.</p>
+<p>But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the
+reality. I know nothing.</p>
+<p>The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile
+in return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.</p>
+<p>The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who
+had groaned. The man was not groaning now.</p>
+<p>The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The
+doctor drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went
+out of the tent. A cold sweat was on me.</p>
+<p>Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a
+corner. They took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come
+back.</p>
+<p>Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was
+great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I
+had never before known it so warm.</p>
+<p>Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be
+with them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many
+days; I thought that I had been unconscious.</p>
+<p>The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in
+his hand--a book and a pencil.</p>
+<p>Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his
+arms were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the
+other man also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps
+officers of the Citadel battalion<a name="FNanchor5"></a><a href=
+"#Footnote_5">[5]</a>. I wondered what I should be doing in their
+world. Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and
+for how long I did not know.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor5">[5]</a>
+"The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in
+Charleston. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!</p>
+<p>The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the
+book to the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in
+the book, and gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man
+with the book went out of the tent.</p>
+<p>The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his
+shoulder. The first finger and the middle finger were stretched
+out; the other fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his
+hand and at his face, and wondered.</p>
+<p>He said, "Look! How many?"</p>
+<p>I said, "Two."</p>
+<p>He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing
+famously."</p>
+<p>He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding
+stools. He began to dress my head.</p>
+<p>"Your name is Jones?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of
+good-will shown by his calling me by my first name.</p>
+<p>"What edge are you?"</p>
+<p>I was silent. I did not understand the question.</p>
+<p>"What edge are you?" he repeated.</p>
+<p>I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he
+had used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said,
+"What edge are you?"</p>
+<p>I thought he was meaning to ask my age.</p>
+<p>I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.</p>
+<p>"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I am in my twenty-second," I said.</p>
+<p>"The twenty-second what?" said he.</p>
+<p>"Year," said I, greatly astonished.</p>
+<p>He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.</p>
+<p>After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he
+inquired.</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"</p>
+<p>"That is my age," said I.</p>
+<p>"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not
+hear?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.</p>
+<p>Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a
+man in real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt
+relieved of many fears.</p>
+<p>"What are you smiling at?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I've been dreaming," I said.</p>
+<p>"And your dream was pleasant?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You smile then at unpleasant things?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"I don't understand you," said he.</p>
+<p>"Neither do I," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your regiment?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Why do you ask such a question?"</p>
+<p>"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an
+answer," said he.</p>
+<p>"I have no regiment," I said.</p>
+<p>"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been
+unconscious?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I
+shall have to send you back to your regiment."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and
+gave me a bitter draught.</p>
+<p>I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was
+neither asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in
+my head was less violent.</p>
+<p>After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The
+doctor was standing by me.</p>
+<p>"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.</p>
+<p>The question came with something like a shock. I did not know
+how to reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I
+had not thought of home, than to find that I did not know a
+home,</p>
+<p>"Where is your home?" he repeated.</p>
+<p>"I do not remember," I said.</p>
+<p>"Where were you yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.</p>
+<p>He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are
+in South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Soldiers, you mean?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"I am not one of them," I said.</p>
+<p>"Try to remember," he said, and went away.</p>
+<p>The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the
+more did I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a
+wagoners' camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be
+soldiers here was too hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes
+must be a surgeon.</p>
+<p>The doctor came again.</p>
+<p>"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Better, I trust," said I.</p>
+<p>"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.</p>
+<p>"Fit for duty?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What duty?"</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"</p>
+<p>"I am not a soldier," I said.</p>
+<p>"Then why do you wear a uniform?"</p>
+<p>"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are
+taking me for another man."</p>
+<p>"You have on the uniform now," said he.</p>
+<p>He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.</p>
+<p>"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."</p>
+<p>"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.</p>
+<p>"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"</p>
+<p>"Yes. What district?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."</p>
+<p>"Who is your captain?"</p>
+<p>"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said,
+"I don't understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains.
+Do you belong to the Citadel battalion?"</p>
+<p>"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Did you go to the Citadel?"</p>
+<p>"No; I think not," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"</p>
+<p>"They are soldiers," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You know something of Charleston?"</p>
+<p>"I've been there, I think."</p>
+<p>"When?"</p>
+<p>"Well; not very long ago."</p>
+<p>"How long? Try to think."</p>
+<p>"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am
+awake or dreaming."</p>
+<p>"Ask me questions," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Where am I?"</p>
+<p>"In the field hospital."</p>
+<p>"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know
+there was a hospital here."</p>
+<p>"Where do you think you are?"</p>
+<p>"In Aiken," I said.</p>
+<p>"Do you live in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more
+questions."</p>
+<p>"Give me some water," said I.</p>
+<p>He brought the water, and I drank.</p>
+<p>"Am I not in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember
+whether your home is in Aiken."</p>
+<p>"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.</p>
+<p>"Where is your home?"</p>
+<p>"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.</p>
+<p>"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get
+you out of this."</p>
+<p>"Out of this what?"</p>
+<p>"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things
+together yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get
+irritable."</p>
+<p>"I hope so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Ask more questions," said he.</p>
+<p>"How did I get here?"</p>
+<p>"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my
+infirmary men."</p>
+<p>"What men?"</p>
+<p>"Infirmary men."</p>
+<p>"What are they?"</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."</p>
+<p>"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"</p>
+<p>"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days;
+but from what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."</p>
+<p>"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+<p>"Were you not in Charleston?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in
+Aiken."</p>
+<p>His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said
+was puzzling to myself.</p>
+<p>"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's
+regiment. I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need
+something first."</p>
+<p>He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went
+out of the tent.</p>
+<p>To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything
+and nothing.</p>
+<p>Again that thunder.</p>
+<p>The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I
+believed he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain
+was confused I could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that
+was my comfort. He had given me medicine every time I felt worse;
+he was certainly a good doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the
+medicine was helping me.</p>
+<p>When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.</p>
+<p>"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.</p>
+<p>"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.</p>
+<p>"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several
+persons--you said something about Butler, and something also about
+Brooks and Sumner."</p>
+<p>"Was Brooks from Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"What Brooks?"</p>
+<p>"I don't remember," I said.</p>
+<p>"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he
+said.</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't
+understand your talk about regiments. Why should there be
+regiments?"</p>
+<p>"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the
+pallets; "they have been wounded in battle."</p>
+<p>I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his
+words were wild.</p>
+<p>"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly,
+"tell me what day of the month this is."</p>
+<p>"The nineteenth," said I.</p>
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+<p>"Because I read yesterday the Augusta <i>Constitutionalist</i>
+of the eighteenth," said I.</p>
+<p>"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is
+getting well. Eighteenth of what?"</p>
+<p>"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"It is indeed," said he.</p>
+<p>"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard
+thunder."</p>
+<p>"I did not hear any thunder," said he.</p>
+<p>"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.</p>
+<p>"What else did you dream?"</p>
+<p>"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."</p>
+<p>"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"How old did you say you are?"</p>
+<p>"Twenty-one."</p>
+<p>"Do you know in what year you were born?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."</p>
+<p>"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"</p>
+<p>"Fifty-nine," said I.</p>
+<p>"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.</p>
+<p>I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel
+strangely calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my
+side.</p>
+<p>"You can trust me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.</p>
+<p>I looked at him, and said nothing.</p>
+<p>"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are
+thinking that one of us two is crazy."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I.</p>
+<p>"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are
+suffering a little in the head, but there is no longer any danger
+to your brain at all."</p>
+<p>"I think I am dreaming," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no
+harm."</p>
+<p>He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong
+in that.</p>
+<p>"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what
+have you dreamed while I wan gone?"</p>
+<p>"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."</p>
+<p>"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"</p>
+<p>"I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.</p>
+<p>I shrank, and he laughed.</p>
+<p>"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened
+since you were in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.</p>
+<p>"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said,
+"but it may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I
+thought."</p>
+<p>"How did I get hurt?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You were knocked down," said he.</p>
+<p>"Who did it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference
+which one did it; we all know that you were in the right."</p>
+<p>"There was a quarrel?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity
+at once by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did
+not, you would make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you
+would become more and more bewildered. I can put you right. But can
+you make up your mind to accept the situation as it is, and bear up
+in the hope that you will come right in the end?"</p>
+<p>I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my
+mind. It was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank.
+It was not fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition
+was more favourable.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the
+whole truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist.
+After all, there is nothing in it but what you might have
+reasonably expected when you were in Aiken in eighteen
+fifty-nine."</p>
+<p>"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."</p>
+<p>"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"</p>
+<p>"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or
+at least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience
+from October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."</p>
+<p>"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all
+gone?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."</p>
+<p>I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it
+was hard for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six
+months--but, no; he was not saying I had been unconscious for six
+months--nobody could live through such a state--he was telling me
+that I could not remember what I had known six months ago.</p>
+<p>"What month is this?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"June," said he; "June 4th."</p>
+<p>"From October to June is a long time," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen
+fifty-nine," said he.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"On my honour," said he.</p>
+<p>"And I have lost eight months of my life?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but
+temporary. You will get right after a while."</p>
+<p>"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"</p>
+<p>"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am
+trying now to find your regiment."</p>
+<p>"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to
+accept that?"</p>
+<p>"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive
+you? Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."</p>
+<p>"Because--" said I.</p>
+<p>"Because what?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me
+good."</p>
+<p>"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These
+hills around you are covered by an army."</p>
+<p>"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.</p>
+<p>"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."</p>
+<p>"What Richmond?"</p>
+<p>"In Virginia."</p>
+<p>"And what brought <i>me</i> here? Why should I be here?"</p>
+<p>"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no
+doubt, and while your mind acted perfectly."</p>
+<p>"But why should I have come?"</p>
+<p>"Because your regiment was ordered to come."</p>
+<p>"And why should there be an army?"</p>
+<p>"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend
+your country, and your regiment was ordered here."</p>
+<p>"Country invaded? Volunteered?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Then we are at war?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"With England?"</p>
+<p>"No; not with England, with the United States."</p>
+<p>I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.</p>
+<p>"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+<p>"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I
+laughed again.</p>
+<p>"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a
+few minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you
+remember how many states compose the United States?"</p>
+<p>"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.</p>
+<p>"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine,"
+said he; "but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the
+most of the Southern states--have seceded and have set up a
+government of their own. We call ourselves the Confederate States
+of America. Our capital is Richmond. The Northern states are at war
+with us, trying to force us back into the Union, as they call it.
+War has been going on for more than a year."</p>
+<p>"What!"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight
+months."</p>
+<p>"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"</p>
+<p>"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."</p>
+<p>He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The
+written page was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written
+some eight or ten names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B,
+such a regiment; Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on.
+Upon one line there was nothing written except <i>B. Jones</i>.</p>
+<p>Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date.
+The paper was the Richmond <i>Examiner</i>; the date, Wednesday,
+June 4, 1862.</p>
+<p>"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>I laughed.</p>
+<p>He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year.
+The great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and
+the Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he
+added, "I will show you."</p>
+<p>He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both
+sides.</p>
+<p>"Look!"</p>
+<p>I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow
+latitude. I could see tents, their numbers increasing as
+perspective broadened the view. I could see many men passing to and
+fro.</p>
+<p>"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for
+miles."</p>
+<p>I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face;
+I wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too
+false; at once my hands fell back.</p>
+<p>I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none
+before.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXI"></a>XXI</h2>
+<h3>ONE MORE CONFEDERATE</h3>
+<center>"Thy mind and body are alike unfit<br>
+To trust each other, for some hours, at least;<br>
+When thou art better, I will be thy guide--<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But whither?"--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the
+surgeon's repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the
+pain had almost gone. My stomach was craving food.</p>
+<p>It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle
+of the tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my
+dream had changed; the tent seemed larger.</p>
+<p>The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had
+heard them talking before I opened my eyes.</p>
+<p>"I should like to have him, Frank."</p>
+<p>Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every
+adjutant in the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But
+he knows that he is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are
+sufficient proof of that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows
+the movements of no other brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your
+company, Captain."</p>
+<p>"Can I do that without some authority?"</p>
+<p>"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be
+called for, and you can return him to his company."</p>
+<p>"What do you think of it, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say
+exceptional," said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide
+for miraculous contingencies."</p>
+<p>"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible
+to make it regular until his company is found. What else can you
+suggest?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know. Can't we wait?"</p>
+<p>"Wait for what?"</p>
+<p>"Wait till we find his people."</p>
+<p>"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him
+then?--turn him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I
+tell you we can't find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found
+it, and that he is fit for duty, or will be in a few days; he is
+not a fit subject for the general hospital, and I wouldn't risk
+sending him there; Powell would wonder at me."</p>
+<p>"Can't you keep him a while longer?"</p>
+<p>"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the
+matter with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to
+be attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It
+will all necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of
+<i>some</i> company, and I want to see him placed right."</p>
+<p>"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."</p>
+<p>"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before
+he has a place to go to. I think I have the right, in this
+miraculous contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you,
+at least temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner
+or later we'll hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man.
+His memory will return to him, so that he'll know where he
+belongs."</p>
+<p>"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his
+company is found, of course I shall be compelled to let him
+go."</p>
+<p>"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear
+for him unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am
+I not right, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"</p>
+<p>"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be
+nothing here for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and
+I'm going to treat him better than that. By the way, I believe he
+is awake."</p>
+<p>My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How
+do you feel now, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Am I here yet?" I muttered.</p>
+<p>"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"</p>
+<p>"Where are the others?"</p>
+<p>"What others?"</p>
+<p>"The five men."</p>
+<p>"What five men?"</p>
+<p>"The five men on the pallets."</p>
+<p>"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes
+again."</p>
+<p>"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well.
+Don't bother your head about what happened last century or last
+year."</p>
+<p>He went to the door and called William.</p>
+<p>The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's
+friends sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take
+the soup somewhat greedily.</p>
+<p>"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know
+where you are."</p>
+<p>"I know what I've been told," said I.</p>
+<p>"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe
+it or you doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I said boldly.</p>
+<p>"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a
+gentleman's voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I
+thought, vaguely, I had heard before.</p>
+<p>"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory
+of your own; what is it, please?"</p>
+<p>He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that
+I had got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any
+interest.</p>
+<p>"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"</p>
+<p>"Be good enough to tell me another."</p>
+<p>He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.</p>
+<p>"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse
+by inventing a war with all its <i>et ceteras</i>. His supposition
+does me credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury.
+Although I have given him my word of honour that I am concealing
+nothing, he still hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in
+order to keep from him a truth that might be dangerous to his
+health. I shall be compelled to call him out when he gets well.
+Will you act for me, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your
+friend will make the <i>amende</i> when he knows the injustice of
+his suspicions."</p>
+<p>"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the
+war?" asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the
+Captain. The other man shook his head.</p>
+<p>"Then tell Jones the conditions here."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say,
+although it is accepting impossibilities."</p>
+<p>"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you
+object to my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and
+so long?"</p>
+<p>"Not that I know of," said I.</p>
+<p>"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere
+creatures of your fancy?"</p>
+<p>The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see
+his features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head
+was below him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young
+man. His face was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.</p>
+<p>"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
+wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
+experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
+have had."</p>
+<p>Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight
+tinge of irony in this excessively polite speech.</p>
+<p>"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any
+other dream."</p>
+<p>"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious
+of is not a dream?"</p>
+<p>"That contradicts itself," said I.</p>
+<p>"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men
+that you are not dreaming?"</p>
+<p>"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.</p>
+<p>"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me
+your notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent
+throughout, or should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own
+unrealness?"</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my
+own existence."</p>
+<p>"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore
+you exist. Are you not sure that you think?"</p>
+<p>"I think, or I dream that I think."</p>
+<p>"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But
+suppose you dream on; what will be the result?"</p>
+<p>"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.</p>
+<p>"May I ask where you will awake?"</p>
+<p>"In Aiken."</p>
+<p>"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a
+year ago."</p>
+<p>Naturally the remark was of interest to me.</p>
+<p>"When was it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was
+recruiting for the reorganized First."</p>
+<p>"August of what year?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."</p>
+<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself.
+I am going through deep waters, I know nothing."</p>
+<p>"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you
+through." Then he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He
+has men in his company from several of the districts; possibly some
+of them would know you, and you might know them."</p>
+<p>I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's
+suggestion was not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What,
+to me, was this captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had
+no interest in this war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes
+did not seem to set strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those
+men could get along without my help. Why could I not find a
+different occupation? Anything would be better than getting killed
+in a cause I did not understand. Then, too, I was threatened with
+the wretched condition of an object of common curiosity. If I was
+going to be gazed at by this officer and his men,--if I was to be
+regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie with theirs.</p>
+<p>"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go
+out of the tent for a moment?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."</p>
+<p>"Why should I go out?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Only to look about you," he replied.</p>
+<p>The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself
+so strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.</p>
+<p>I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few
+fires on the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the
+whole world was shining with fires; long lines of them to the right
+and the left.</p>
+<p>We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you.
+Command me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me
+too bold in advising you to make no hasty decision which you might
+regret afterward; good-by."</p>
+<p>"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."</p>
+<p>The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for
+a while, over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making
+a report. When this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This
+officer also is a Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general
+of Gregg's brigade, and is a brother of Captain William
+Haskell."</p>
+<p>The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but
+I was in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to
+help you if we can."</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it
+the more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."</p>
+<p>"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially
+to Dr. Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in
+Company H himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our
+attention to your case in order that we might try to help you, and
+we should be glad to help."</p>
+<p>"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any
+day or any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital,
+because you are almost well. Something must be done with you. What
+would you have us do?"</p>
+<p>"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to
+have any plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit
+myself to something I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I
+enlist as a soldier. I feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as
+a soldier in any way. Possibly I should think differently if I knew
+anything about the war and its causes."</p>
+<p>"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I
+think, Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the
+war were explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to
+agree to your wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him
+light; I know he must be full of curiosity."</p>
+<p>"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is
+going on. Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do,
+though, in the end."</p>
+<p>"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful;
+at any rate, it can do no harm."</p>
+<p>"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that
+you are already a soldier," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.</p>
+<p>"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we
+propose is to give you a home until you find where you belong; and
+the place we propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know
+of. Company H is a fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I
+may say that they are picked men; the most of them are gentlemen.
+Let me mention some good old Carolina names--you will remember
+them, I think. Did you never hear the name of Barnwell?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I
+believe this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."</p>
+<p>"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do
+you know of the Rhetts?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."</p>
+<p>"Grimk&eacute; Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there
+are the Seabrooks and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the
+Bellots<a name="FNanchor6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6">[6]</a>, and
+Stewart, and Bee, and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent
+good old families. You would speedily feel at home."</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor6">[6]</a>
+The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in
+Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be
+pronounced <i>Bellotte</i>. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know.
+I am a soldier in a cause that I do not understand."</p>
+<p>"And you have done many other things that you could not now
+understand if you were told of them," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been
+wounded in the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm
+done. Tell him how he was hurt, Aleck."</p>
+<p>"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the
+adjutant.</p>
+<p>"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I,
+with nervous curiosity.</p>
+<p>"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the
+doctor.</p>
+<p>"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the
+enemy's cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit
+that you are a soldier!"</p>
+<p>To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the
+two men.</p>
+<p>"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks;
+you are under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may
+come, and does come; you are wounded; you are brought to your
+hospital for treatment. And yet you doubt that you are a soldier!
+You must be merely dreaming that you doubt!"</p>
+<p>While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was
+getting angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones,
+good-by," he said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't
+let it fall into obstinacy."</p>
+<p>The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I am. I was surprised."</p>
+<p>"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts;
+they lie there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all.
+I suppose they think that they are dreaming."</p>
+<p>At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it
+was that my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then,
+too, it was pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.</p>
+<p>"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three
+days will set you up."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies,
+and war, and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"</p>
+<p>"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are
+now convinced that there is a war?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it
+ought to be enough for you to know that your country is in danger.
+Are you a patriot?"</p>
+<p>"I trust so."</p>
+<p>"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have
+talked long enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a
+night-cap."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my
+progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my
+curiosity.</p>
+<p>"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"I trust I am," said I.</p>
+<p>"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are
+insulted. Our men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and
+hopes to conquer. Can you hesitate?"</p>
+<p>"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But
+how can you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits
+of the cause for which I am told to fight?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government
+is concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a
+Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep
+from serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I
+will not suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to
+answer any question you may ask about the causes of the war. You
+ought to have your mind satisfied, if it be possible."</p>
+<p>"What are they fighting about?"</p>
+<p>"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into
+existence?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, I think so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Tell me."</p>
+<p>"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their
+independence in war," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well; what then?"</p>
+<p>"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates
+framed a constitution."</p>
+<p>"Well; what then?"</p>
+<p>"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."</p>
+<p>"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of
+the constitutional convention?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then do you think the States created the general government?
+Think a little before you answer."</p>
+<p>"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."</p>
+<p>"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the
+Federal government, or did the people of the whole United States,
+acting as a body-politic, create it?"</p>
+<p>"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.</p>
+<p>"In what respect?"</p>
+<p>"It makes the United States exist before the United States came
+into existence," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then what would your answer be?"</p>
+<p>"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent
+delegates. The delegates, representing the respective States,
+framed the constitution. The people, if I mistake not, ratified the
+constitution, each State voting separately. Therefore I think that
+the United States government is a creature of the States and not of
+the people as a body-politic; for there could have been no such
+body-politic."</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you
+ought never to have entered military service."</p>
+<p>"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for
+a time to enter into the agreement."</p>
+<p>"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States
+have compelled them to come in?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I cannot say as to that," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce
+them?"</p>
+<p>"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot
+very well see what ought to have been done."</p>
+<p>"The two States would have had some rights?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"What rights would the United States have had over the two
+States?"</p>
+<p>"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but
+the people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not
+think that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new
+republic by refusing to enter it. But there may have been something
+peculiar in Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should
+say that the question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode
+Island's objections should have been considered and removed. A
+forced agreement would be no agreement."</p>
+<p>"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all
+their rights?"</p>
+<p>"I think not."</p>
+<p>"What rights did they retain?"</p>
+<p>"They retained everything they did not surrender."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces?
+Did they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"</p>
+<p>"I think not."</p>
+<p>"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for
+the general good of all?"</p>
+<p>"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word
+'partnership' is the correct term."</p>
+<p>"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A
+confederacy?"</p>
+<p>"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The
+title of the republic means a union."</p>
+<p>"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word
+'union' seems to me to imply greater permanence."</p>
+<p>"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"</p>
+<p>"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all
+time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were
+differences, even among the framers of the constitution."</p>
+<p>"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should
+believe that their interests were being destroyed and that
+injustice was being done."</p>
+<p>"The several branches of government should prevent that," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government
+were united in perpetrating this injustice."</p>
+<p>"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.</p>
+<p>"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in
+Congress had been elected by their opponents; that the President
+and the judges were all against them."</p>
+<p>"The will of the majority should rule," said I.</p>
+<p>"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself
+must be given up or defended?"</p>
+<p>"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.</p>
+<p>"Ought they to endure tamely?"</p>
+<p>"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it
+seems that the constitution should have provided some remedy."</p>
+<p>"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours,
+should conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except
+in withdrawing from the partnership, or union."</p>
+<p>"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps
+a dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge
+of such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank
+concerning politics."</p>
+<p>"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that
+step, in the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace;
+would her citizens be bound by her action?"</p>
+<p>"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being
+the case, every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long
+as he remains a citizen."</p>
+<p>"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable
+withdrawal is met by United States armies trying to force her back
+into the Union. Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a
+citizen of South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State,
+he must obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of
+it."</p>
+<p>"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are
+invading his State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"</p>
+<p>"I think no man would do that."</p>
+<p>"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of
+his State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his
+help, and influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that
+South Carolina should allow any of her citizens to leave her in
+this crisis?"</p>
+<p>"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms
+would thus be allowed to go."</p>
+<p>"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"</p>
+<p>"In a certain sense--yes."</p>
+<p>"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"</p>
+<p>"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to
+reply, I should say no."</p>
+<p>"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military
+service, is it not your duty to serve?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me
+serve?"</p>
+<p>"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to
+serve his country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that
+a man should obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."</p>
+<p>"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the
+country?"</p>
+<p>"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no
+exception to rules?"</p>
+<p>"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not
+exist in time of war. The Confederate States have called into
+military service all males between eighteen and forty-five. You
+could not leave the country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an
+impersonal sense--even if you should wish to leave it. Every man is
+held subject to military service; as you have already said, the
+State would commit suicide if she renounced the population from
+which she gets her soldiers. But, in any case, what would you do if
+you were not forced into service?"</p>
+<p>"I am helpless," I said gloomily.</p>
+<p>"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not
+helpless. What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can
+attach, you to any company that you may choose, with the condition
+that as soon as your friends are found you are to be handed over to
+them--I mean, of course, handed over to your original company. It
+seems to me that such a course is not merely the best thing to do,
+but the only thing to do."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under
+very heavy obligations. You have done much yourself, and your
+friends show me kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask
+you to act for me. I know the delicacy of your offer. Another man
+might have refused to discuss or explain; he had the power to
+simply order me back into the ranks."</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have
+been exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's
+duty to his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army
+regulations applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept
+here without authority, except the general authority which empowers
+the surgeon to help the wounded. But I have no control over you
+whatever. If you choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this
+hospital. I cannot make a report of your case on any form furnished
+me. It was this difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the
+brigade adjutant to visit you; while the matter is irregular, it
+is, however, known at brigade headquarters, so that it is in as
+good a shape as we know how to put it. I cannot order you back into
+the ranks; you would not know what to do with yourself; what I
+suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter of being
+supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that you
+are still in the service and are obeying authority."</p>
+<p>"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the
+possibility of being charged with desertion."</p>
+<p>"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must
+get authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect
+you fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and
+the adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without
+leave. I must quit you for a while."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my
+part, to find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the
+proposition to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard
+to my original company, and had at last confessed to myself that it
+was due to exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my
+company? should I recognize them? No; they would know me, but I
+should not know them. This thought had been strong in holding me
+back from yielding to the doctor's views; I had an almost morbid
+dread of being considered a curiosity. So, I did not want to go
+back to my company; and as for going into Captain Haskell's
+company, I considered that project but a temporary expedient--my
+people would soon be found and I should be forced back where I
+belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to keep
+out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go
+away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only
+keep me from being advertised and gazed upon.</p>
+<p>Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought
+before me the probability of my being already reported absent
+without leave, and the consequent possibility of being charged with
+desertion, I decided at once that I should go with Captain Haskell.
+Whatever I might once have been, and whatever I might yet become, I
+was not and never should be a deserter.</p>
+<p>When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong
+enough for duty.</p>
+<p>"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong
+enough to march in case the army should move. I do not intend,
+however, to let you go at once, unless there should be a movement;
+in that case I could not well keep you any longer."</p>
+<p>I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish
+to delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to
+enroll me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick
+list for a few days, in order that I might accustom myself
+gradually to new conditions.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXII"></a>XXII</h2>
+<h3>COMPANY H</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"In strange eyes<br>
+Have made me not a stranger; to the mind<br>
+Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;<br>
+Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find<br>
+A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation
+recounted above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short
+walk.</p>
+<p>From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see
+northward and toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents
+and cannon, and rows of stacked muskets and all the appliances of
+war. The sight was new and strange. I had never before seen at one
+time more than a battalion of soldiers; now here was an army into
+which I had been suddenly thrust as a part of it, without
+experience of any sort and without knowledge of anybody in it
+except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had never
+heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army had
+been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true
+that I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my
+misfortune had deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had
+decided my duty as to that cause; yet it now appealed to me so
+little, that I was conscious of struggling to rise above
+indifference. I reproached myself for lack of patriotism. I had
+read the morning's <i>Dispatch</i> and had been shocked at the
+relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the
+part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against
+the wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me
+that my passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this
+peculiarity seemed so unimportant in comparison with the greater
+one which marked me, that it gave me no concern.</p>
+<p>In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum
+and the fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming
+and going. A line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched
+by, going somewhere. They had no uniform; I supposed they were
+recruits. A group of mounted men attracted me; I had little doubt
+that here was some general with his staff. Flags were
+everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked by stars.</p>
+<p>A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I
+started to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"</p>
+<p>He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.</p>
+<p>When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade
+is?"</p>
+<p>"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the
+hospital tents, I suppose."</p>
+<p>"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about
+here," said he.</p>
+<p>"I will go with you to the tent," said I.</p>
+<p>"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some
+days on duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in
+charge of the hospital?"</p>
+<p>"Dr. Frost," said I.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our
+orderly-sergeant."</p>
+<p>By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men,
+and I looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I
+wanted to ask him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest
+he should afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be
+curious. However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was,
+would hardly become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked
+saying that I understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant
+in some company or other.</p>
+<p>"Yes; Company H," said he.</p>
+<p>"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said
+he.</p>
+<p>"You like your company?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own
+company; I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better
+now."</p>
+<p>"You couldn't be under better care," said he.</p>
+<p>When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.</p>
+<p>"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I
+reckon, and I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment
+do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know;
+to my intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he
+cried, "There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook
+hands. I besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he
+understood, and nodded.</p>
+<p>The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and
+Bellot soon went off.</p>
+<p>"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you
+and he are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you
+here to-day, he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but
+we'll hope for the best."</p>
+<p>"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees
+me again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very
+ragged, and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking
+of my strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become
+indebted to you for something besides your professional skill,
+Doctor."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want,
+if I can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he
+will not come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your
+first service as light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if
+you have forgotten your drill!"</p>
+<p>"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did
+know anything about it."</p>
+<p>"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you
+may have lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In
+three days under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every
+manoeuvre. Just get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and
+you'll do eight of 'em without reflection."</p>
+<p>"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p>
+<p>I did not budge, but stood stiff.</p>
+<p>"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do <i>so</i>," said he.</p>
+<p>"<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p>
+<p>I imitated the surgeon.</p>
+<p>"FRONT!--that's right--<i>Left</i>--FACE! That's
+good--FRONT!--all right; now
+again--<i>Right</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>Left</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>About</i>--put
+your right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind;
+it will all come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H
+many a day."</p>
+<p>I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection
+for me, though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of
+proprietorship acquired through discovery, so to speak.</p>
+<p>After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to
+Company H. W'ell drive over in an ambulance."</p>
+<p>From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the
+crest of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds
+were aglow with light. "McClellan's army," said he.</p>
+<p>"Whose army?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.</p>
+<p>"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.</p>
+<p>"And their camp-fires make all that light?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as
+the men had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be
+seen a blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and,
+underneath, a bed of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours
+abounded. The Captain himself had no tent; we found him sitting
+with his back to a tree near which was his little fly stretched
+over his sleeping-place. Several officers were around him. He shook
+the doctor's hand, but said nothing to me. The officers left
+us.</p>
+<p>"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that
+you may tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to
+his first service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."</p>
+<p>"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.</p>
+<p>"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.</p>
+<p>"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got
+the cart before the horse."</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones
+Berwick."</p>
+<p>"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it
+is written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick
+instead of Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."</p>
+<p>"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of
+Private Berwick," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name
+reversed, that is a small matter which will straighten itself out
+when you recover your memory. What I was going to say is, that you
+may be received into my company as a recruit, as it were, but to be
+returned to your original company whenever we learn what company
+that is. We will continue, through brigade headquarters, to try to
+find out what regiment you are from--and under both of your names.
+While you are with me I shall cheerfully do for you all that I can
+to favour your condition. You will be expected, however, to do a
+man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."</p>
+<p>The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used
+toward me in the tent; his voice was stern and his manner
+frigid.</p>
+<p>"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued,
+"and will keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your
+case; for I can well understand, although you have said nothing
+about it, sir, that you do not wish confidences."</p>
+<p>His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."</p>
+<p>"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his
+official voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an
+ordinary recruit; we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I
+shall at once make a requisition for your arms and accoutrements,
+your knapsack, uniform, and everything else necessary for you. You
+may remain in the hospital until your equipment is ready for you.
+Report to me day after to-morrow at noon, and I will receive you
+into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it is time for
+prayers."</p>
+<p>The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book
+in his hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the
+doctor told me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch.
+Some of the men heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed
+heads.</p>
+<p>The Captain began to read:--</p>
+<p>"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all
+just works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the
+world cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy
+commandments, and also that by Thee, we, being defended from the
+fear of our enemies, may pass our time in rest and quietness,
+through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour.</p>
+<p>"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have
+been preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all
+perils and dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our
+Saviour, Jesus Christ.</p>
+<p>"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the
+Universe, who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon
+earth, most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and
+bless Thy servant the President of the Confederate States, and all
+others in authority; and so replenish them with the grace of Thy
+Holy Spirit that they may always incline to Thy will, and walk in
+Thy way. Endue them plenteously with heavenly gifts, grant them in
+health, and prosperity long to live; and finally, after this life,
+to attain everlasting joy and felicity, through Jesus Christ our
+Lord.</p>
+<p>"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly
+beseech Thee for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst
+be pleased to make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to
+all nations. More especially we pray for Thy holy church universal,
+that it may be so guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all
+who profess and call themselves Christians may be led into the way
+of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of
+peace, and in righteousness of life. Finally, we commend to Thy
+fatherly goodness all who are in any ways afflicted or distressed
+in mind, body, or estate, that it may please Thee to comfort and
+relieve them, according to their several necessities, giving them
+patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their
+afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's sake. Amen."</p>
+<p>While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness
+outside of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.</p>
+<p>Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he
+was good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead
+of another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I
+should be without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have
+sent me to the general hospital, whence I should have been remanded
+to duty; and failing to know my regiment, I should have been
+apprehended as a deserter. At the best, even if other people had
+recognized the nature of my trouble, I should have been subjected
+then and always to the vulgar curiosity which I so greatly dreaded.
+Here in Company H nobody would know me except as an ordinary
+recruit.</p>
+<p>The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and
+said, "Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr.
+Frost sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own
+company at any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if
+you do not find it. You are not under my orders until you come to
+me."</p>
+<p>As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me
+seriously, "You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones.
+How did you get my name reversed?"</p>
+<p>"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B.
+Jones,'" he said.</p>
+<p>"Will you let me see the diary?"</p>
+<p>"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to
+have done so before."</p>
+<p>The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small
+blank book for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862.
+Only a very few dates in this book are filled with writing. On the
+fly-leaf is "B. Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name
+having been all torn away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends
+with May 27th. The writing has been done with a pencil. I copy
+below all that the book contains:--</p>
+<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather
+clear."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.</p>
+<p>"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at
+night."</p>
+<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain
+at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that
+had been fighting."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Each page in the book is divided into three sections.</p>
+<p>After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said
+to the surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe
+that I ever wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain
+that I could not have written B. Jones as my name."</p>
+<p>The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take
+this paper and write at my dictation."</p>
+<p>He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a
+battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been
+fighting."</p>
+<p>"Now let us compare them," said he.</p>
+<p>The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the
+paper.</p>
+<p>"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones
+Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do
+know."</p>
+<p>"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book,
+what would you have said?"</p>
+<p>"That the book was never mine, of course."</p>
+<p>"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor.
+"Many cases have been known of patients whose handwriting had
+changed completely. The truth is, that I did not expect to see you
+write as you did just now."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.</p>
+<p>"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name
+is Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at
+all--any part of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do
+this and do that; there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the
+mind. I'd rather risk that signature which you made before you were
+hurt."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be
+trusted. It is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower
+part of the leaf has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why,
+of course, to destroy the name of the regiment to which the owner
+belonged! B. Jones is common enough; Jones Berwick is not so
+common. I found it, or else it got into my pocket by mistake. No
+wonder that a man named Jones is not called for."</p>
+<p>"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is
+identical? Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we
+cannot account for the rest unless you wrote it. It is very
+romantic, and all that, to say that somebody imitated your
+handwriting in the body of the book, but it is very far-fetched.
+Find some other theory."</p>
+<p>"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.</p>
+<p>"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third
+you began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where
+you had been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had
+kept one, at home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days
+ago."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.</p>
+<p>"By the by, let me see that book a moment."</p>
+<p>I handed it to him.</p>
+<p>"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I
+wanted to see who printed it."</p>
+<p>"What would that have shown?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or
+perhaps Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make
+inquiries for the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is
+missing. Now do you go to bed and go to sleep."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.</p>
+<p>The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face
+I saw in the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at
+least ten years older. Needless to describe it, if I could.</p>
+<p>After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful
+duty,--I made a different appearance, and felt better, not only on
+account of the physical change, but also, I suppose, because my
+mind was now settled upon myself as a volunteer soldier.</p>
+<p>Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see
+me; Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a
+man who would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to
+give them no hint of the truth. He replied that it would be
+difficult to keep them in the dark, for they wouldn't see why a
+man, already wearing uniform, should offer himself as a member of
+Company H.</p>
+<p>"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said
+he.</p>
+<p>To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If
+I had any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other
+clothing."</p>
+<p>"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots
+of it."</p>
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+<p>"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me;
+besides, the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every
+volunteer. Your bounty will purchase clothing, if you are
+determined to squander your estate. Captain Haskell would be able
+to secure you what you want; your bounty is good for it."</p>
+<p>"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.</p>
+<p>"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was
+thinking, for the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the
+tables on me. Yes; you have already received the bounty; maybe you
+haven't yet spent it, though. I'll look up the contents of your
+pockets; I hope nothing's been lost."</p>
+<p>He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as
+well as a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in
+Confederate notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South
+Carolina, and more than four dollars in silver.</p>
+<p>"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do
+you want to do with all that?"</p>
+<p>"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.</p>
+<p>"Why old?"</p>
+<p>"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we
+march, it will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer
+stuff; I know what to do. How you held on to that silver so long is
+a mystery."</p>
+<p>The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the
+Bellots came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The
+elder Bellot had already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did
+not seem to recognize me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man,
+fully six feet, with a slight stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes
+or a better face; he, too, wore a full beard. His name was Louis,
+yet his brother called him Joe. I took a liking to both Dave and
+Joe.</p>
+<p>The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the
+regiment was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a
+State regiment before the Confederate States had existed--that is
+to say, it had been organized by South Carolina alone, before any
+other State had seceded; it had seen service on the islands near
+Charleston.</p>
+<p>A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave
+Bellot, especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of
+which I was utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.</p>
+<p>"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."</p>
+<p>"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but
+I am not familiar with the city."</p>
+<p>"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."</p>
+<p>Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie,
+and I nodded assent.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns
+of Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the
+Cadets had fired on the <i>Star of the West</i>; we thought Sumter
+would sink us, but she didn't say a word."</p>
+<p>I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that
+these men had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me.
+Momentarily I expected either of them to blurt out, "Where are you
+from?" and I had no answer ready. Afterward I learned that I was
+already known as an Aiken man, in default of better,--the doctor
+having considerately relieved me from anticipated danger.</p>
+<p>"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the
+Confederate service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time
+expired in June. It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and
+discharged, and at once reorganized under the same
+field-officers."</p>
+<p>I did not very well know what a field-officer is.</p>
+<p>"Who is the colonel?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called
+him once in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters,
+and it was the day for general inspection of the camp. We had
+scoured our tin plates and had made up our bunks and washed up
+generally, and every man was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I
+had my back to the door, and I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder
+when Old Headquarters will be here.' You never were so scared in
+your life as I was when I heard a loud voice at the door say,
+'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the colonel walked in."</p>
+<p>I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is
+Suffolk?"</p>
+<p>"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was
+in the Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post,
+though. He commands our brigade now."</p>
+<p>"Where did you go from Suffolk?"</p>
+<p>"To Goldsborough."</p>
+<p>"Where is that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island
+it was thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and
+Wilmington railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were
+brigaded with some tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson
+and the lot of us were sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put
+under Gregg again until we reached Richmond."</p>
+<p>"How many regiments are in the brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's
+Rifles."</p>
+<p>"All from South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very
+near getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."</p>
+<p>"Where is Hanover?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure
+to get into that fight, but we were too late for it."</p>
+<p>The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They
+especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared
+that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some
+others which they could name.</p>
+<p>Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I
+flattered myself with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit
+influenced by some acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.</p>
+<p>Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his
+brother, and then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know
+anybody in the company?"</p>
+<p>"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply
+relying on Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely
+on his judgment more than on my own."</p>
+<p>"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you
+can do better."</p>
+<p>I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to
+accept his offer.</p>
+<p>"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was
+walking a short way with the brothers as they returned to their
+camp. "No," said I.</p>
+<p>"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of
+warfare."</p>
+<p>"What are they doing?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into
+regiments of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans,
+has several regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of
+one of our brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in
+that State are enticing the negroes away from their owners and
+putting arms into their hands."</p>
+<p>"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from
+saying more. The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at
+the time that New Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his
+saying that Butler had regiments of negroes seemed queer.</p>
+<p>"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's
+insurrection," said Bellot.</p>
+<p>A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot
+continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading
+of Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!</p>
+<p>"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of
+secession, and they have split Virginia into two States. In my
+opinion, they are fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure
+selfishness: they know that they live on the trade of the South,
+and that they cannot make as much money if they let us go to
+ourselves."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of
+course there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good
+mistakenly, but the mass of the people are blindly following the
+counsels of those who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed
+men, the manufacturers, and the great merchants of the North
+thought for one moment that they would lose some of their dollars
+by the war, the war would end. What care they for us? They care
+only for themselves. They plunge the whole country into mourning
+simply in order to keep control of the trade of the South."</p>
+<p>Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West
+Virginia by the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent,
+mentally vowing that I should at once read the history of events
+since 1859. So I sought Dr. Frost, and begged him to help me get
+books or papers which would give me the information I needed; for
+otherwise, I told him, I should be unable to talk with any
+consistency or method.</p>
+<p>"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in
+print that would give you just what you want. We might get files of
+newspapers--but that would be too voluminous reading and too
+redundant. You ought to have something concise--some outline; and
+where to get it I can't tell you." Then, as the thought struck him,
+he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll make it! You write while I
+dictate."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2>
+<h3>A LESSON IN HISTORY</h3>
+<center>"So that, from point to point, now have you heard<br>
+The fundamental reasons of this war;<br>
+Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,<br>
+And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking
+that I would require many notes.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October
+fifty-nine?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What date?"</p>
+<p>"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's
+seizure of Harper's Ferry."</p>
+<p>"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown
+episode?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing."</p>
+<p>I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.</p>
+<p>In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic
+Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building
+of which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and
+interrupted him to tell him so."</p>
+<p>"Maybe your home is in Charleston."</p>
+<p>"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I
+don't remember my home."</p>
+<p>He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important
+actions and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought
+in them in '61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you
+something about your own command."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in
+progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.</p>
+<p>"Well."</p>
+<p>"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded
+at the battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You
+were in that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson
+we call him, to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is
+president of the Tredegar Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you
+were facing McDowell. Now, look here at the map. McClellan
+stretched his right wing as far as Mechanicsville--here, almost
+north of Richmond; and you were between McClellan and McDowell. So
+Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember the hot march?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all; I don't think I was there."</p>
+<p>"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover
+your memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in
+an unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies
+itself against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of
+weakness that things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a
+dream proves to be the beginning. However, some men have such great
+strength of will that they can do almost anything. If ever you get
+the smallest clew, you ought then and there to determine that you
+will never let it go. Your friends may find you any day, but it is
+strange they have not yet done it They surely must be classing you
+among the killed."</p>
+<a name="326.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/326.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<b>A Lesson In History<br>
+Map of Chesapeake Bay and Environs</b></p>
+<p>"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the
+past? Would my memory return if I should find them?"</p>
+<p>"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first
+find one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and
+then they can show you how everything else is to be associated with
+that. Without their help you would have a hard time in collecting
+things--putting them together; they would be separate and distinct
+in your mind; if you remember but one isolated circumstance, it
+would be next to impossible to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and
+finish; we are nearly at the end, or at the beginning, for you.
+Where was I?</p>
+<p>"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"</p>
+<p>"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the
+twenty-fourth."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's
+brigade. While you were retreating, and when you were very near
+Hanover, McClellan threw a column on Branch, and used him very
+severely. You were not in the fight exactly, but were in hearing of
+it, and saw some of Branch's men after the fight. That is how we
+know what brigade you belong to, although it will not claim you.
+You know that you are from South Carolina, and your buttons prove
+it; and your diary shows that you were near Branch's brigade while
+it was in the fight; and the only South Carolina brigade in the
+whole of Lee's army that had any connection with Branch, is
+Gregg's. Do you see?"</p>
+<p>"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"</p>
+<p>"May 27th; your diary tells you that."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The
+division you are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light
+division. Branch's brigade is in it."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the
+army down to the company."</p>
+<p>"Go ahead."</p>
+<p>"Lee's army--"</p>
+<p>"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."</p>
+<p>"What is General Lee's full name?"</p>
+<p>"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse
+Harry Lee of Revolution times."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's
+brigade--what is General Gregg's name?"</p>
+<p>"Maxcy."</p>
+<p>"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"</p>
+<p>"How did you know that?"</p>
+<p>"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"</p>
+<p>"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."</p>
+<p>"Company H, Captain Haskell--"</p>
+<p>"William Thompson Haskell."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"</p>
+<p>"No."</p>
+<p>"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."</p>
+<p>"Now read what you have written," he said.</p>
+<p>I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made.
+My interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily
+have called over in chronological order the principal events he had
+just narrated.</p>
+<p>"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the
+details from what you can remember of what I said?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."</p>
+<p>He asked some questions, and I replied to them.</p>
+<p>My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a
+phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he
+said.</p>
+<p>His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.</p>
+<p>"What has become of the <i>Merrimac?</i>" I asked him.</p>
+<p>"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had
+to follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some
+halfway down below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by
+Lincoln against all the ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak
+on the water."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2>
+<h3>BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE</h3>
+<center>"And so your follies fight against yourself.<br>
+Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--<br>
+And fight and die, is death destroying death;<br>
+Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr.
+Frost had offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone,
+and, as my strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all
+my possessions in my pockets.</p>
+<p>The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll
+of Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in
+its alphabetical position.</p>
+<p>A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having
+been made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots.
+Besides the brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I
+formed gradually some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant
+Josey, Corporal Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box,
+in this alphabetical succession of names my own name being no real
+exception, although Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name
+written in the diary.</p>
+<p>And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's
+drill in the manual and in everything. The company drilled four
+hours a day, and the regiment had one hour's battalion drill,
+besides dress-parade; there was roll-call in the company morning
+and night.</p>
+<p>Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John
+Wilson, who put me singly through the exercises without arms for
+about four hours on my first day's duty, which was the third day of
+my enlistment, or perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant
+seemed greatly pleased with my progress, and told me that he should
+at once promote me to be the right guide of his awkward squad.</p>
+<p>On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three
+other recruits who had been members of the company for a week or
+more. That night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have
+received me into his good graces, told me that Wilson had said that
+that new man Jones beat everything that he had seen before; that
+learning to drill was to Jones "as easy as fallin' off a log." I
+remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.</p>
+<p>The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the
+afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour
+I was exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved
+very unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost
+swore at me. He placed my gun at the <i>carry</i>, and called
+repeated attention to the exact description of the position,
+contained in the language of Hardee: "The piece in the right hand,
+the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in the hollow of the
+shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging nearly at its
+full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger embracing the
+guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping the
+swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little
+finger." I simply could not execute the <i>shoulder</i>, or
+<i>carry</i>, with any precision, although the positions of
+<i>support, right-shoulder-shift, present,</i> and all the rest,
+gave me no trouble after they were reached; reaching them, from the
+<i>shoulder</i> was the great trouble.</p>
+<p>Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the
+Captain.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant
+Wilson gives a bad report of you."</p>
+<p>"I do the best I can, Captain."</p>
+<p>"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some
+peculiar point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives
+you great praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says
+you will not learn the manual."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something
+wrong about it."</p>
+<p>"You find the manual difficult?"</p>
+<p>"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me
+nervous."</p>
+<p>"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."</p>
+<p>"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I
+have a clew to the situation."</p>
+<p>Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made
+me take position. He also took position, with a rifle at his
+side.</p>
+<p>"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be
+the <i>shoulder</i> natural to you."</p>
+<p>His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm
+of his left hand under the butt.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "this is the <i>shoulder</i> of the heavy
+infantry manual. I think you were drilled once in a company which
+had this <i>shoulder</i>. It may not have been in your recent
+regiment that you were so drilled, for this <i>shoulder</i>
+obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before the war.
+Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions
+now--<i>Support</i>--ARMS!"</p>
+<p>The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the
+stock; his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting
+on the forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.</p>
+<p>I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.</p>
+<p>"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other
+positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the
+<i>shoulder</i>, or <i>carry</i>, as we sometimes call it, that has
+been changed. You will like the new drill."</p>
+<p>He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had
+difficulty, yet I had some success.</p>
+<p>"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.</p>
+<p>I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I
+had been confused by the light infantry <i>carry</i>, never having
+seen drill except from the heavy infantry <i>shoulder</i>. Wilson
+kept me at work for almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with
+my progress. Under his training I was soon able to drill with the
+company.</p>
+<p>Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see
+Richmond. He had got permission to go into town on the next day.
+The Captain readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four
+hours, and Bellot and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We
+saw the State House, and the Confederate Congress in session, and
+wandered down to the river and took a long look at the Libby
+Prison.</p>
+<p>The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's
+left, but now the regiment took position in the front, the lines
+having been extended still farther to the left. A battery at our
+right--some distance away--would throw a few shells over at the
+Yankees, and their guns would reply; beyond this almost daily
+artillery practice, nothing unusual occurred.</p>
+<p>One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to
+get my arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front,
+Corporal Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for
+his sword. He led us through our pickets and straight on toward the
+river. The slope of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were
+clumps of pine bushes which hid us from any casual view from either
+flank; and as for the river swamp in our front, unless a man had
+been on its hither edge, we were perfectly screened. I observed
+that, as we approached the swamp, the Captain advanced more
+stealthily, keeping in the thickest and tallest of the bushes.
+Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending over and slipping
+along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader. The river
+bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a dense
+forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
+which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
+Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the
+purpose of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it
+was not merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.</p>
+<p>We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the
+Captain signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and
+stood behind a tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body
+this way and that; then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth
+here was less thick, the trees larger. I could see nothing, in any
+direction, except trees and muddy water. The Captain went on again
+for a few paces, and stopped with a jerk. After a little he
+beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded slowly on. Before we
+reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get behind trees.</p>
+<p>From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in
+another. There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the
+Captain was still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see
+that his whole attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at
+my right, was silent and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather
+than saw, that there was something in front of us, and I kept my
+eyes intent upon a narrow aisle just beyond me. All at once a man
+in dark-blue dress passed across the opening; I knew instantly that
+he was a Yankee, although I had never seen one in my life, and
+instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but he was gone. Now,
+looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other blue men behind
+trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were about sixty
+yards from us; I supposed they were part of their picket-line. I
+had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and consulted
+the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.</p>
+<p>Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side
+of the Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool
+stretching in their front, and were not very watchful. We remained
+stiff in our places for four or five minutes; then the Captain
+moved slowly backward and gave us a sign to follow.</p>
+<p>This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it
+made me feel that the Captain was favourable to me.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three
+days' rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little.
+Everybody said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had
+occasion to use the word, had thought of it as r&atilde;tions. I
+think I called it r&atilde;tions once or twice before I got
+straight. I remembered Dr. Frost's advice to hold fast any
+slightest clew, and felt that possibly this word might, in the
+future, prove a beginning.</p>
+<p>The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle.
+For a day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the
+part of Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody
+seemed to know where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave
+occasion for the talk. From what I could hear, it seemed to be
+thought generally that Jackson was marching on Washington, but some
+of the most serious of the men believed exactly the contrary; they
+believed that Jackson was very near to Lee's army.</p>
+<p>The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready
+for the march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe
+Bellot was lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that
+he, too, was awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and
+sometimes confused, thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not
+that I should soon see actual war, and I was far from certain that
+I could stand it. I had never fired a shot at a man; no man had
+ever fired at me. I fully appreciated the fact of the difference
+between other men and me; perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I
+had heard and had read that most men in battle are able from
+motives of pride to do their duty; but I was certainly not like
+most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had homes to fight
+for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at all; but I
+was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction
+called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown
+somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as
+theirs; if I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight
+for the homes of my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home,
+vague, it is true, but as real as theirs, and Southern homes were
+in danger from the invaders. I <i>must</i> fight for Southern
+homes--for <i>my</i> home; but could I stand up with my comrades in
+the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I not one of a
+few? perhaps unique even?</p>
+<p>Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but
+retain my presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature
+by the resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what
+is courage if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If
+my mind fail, I shall have no courage: this is to think in a
+circle. I felt that I should prefer death to cowardice--the thought
+gave me momentary comfort.</p>
+<p>But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial
+comes? A coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an
+outcast from men.</p>
+<p>And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I
+doubted it and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt
+comforted me. To be killed was no worse than to kill.</p>
+<p>Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that
+sustained <i>him</i> at this moment? If not now, at least shortly,
+he would give orders which must result in the death of thousands;
+it was enough to craze a general. How could he, reputed so good,
+give such orders? Could any success atone for so much disaster?
+What could be in the mind of General Lee to make him consent to
+such sacrifice? It must be that he feels forced; he cannot do it
+willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up the contest--to
+yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two nations into
+despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many stricken
+homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that sustains
+General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and
+simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then
+President Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the
+burden? No. What then? The country.</p>
+<p>And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People?
+What is land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know.
+But, supposing that I have people and land--what is the country for
+which we fight? Will the enemy take our people, and take our land,
+if we do not beat them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to
+subjection. I shall become a dependant upon them. I shall be
+constrained in my liberties; part of my labour will go to them
+against my will. My property, if I have any, will be taken from me
+in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not wholly, at least in a
+measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not be free.</p>
+<p>But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free?
+Yes, I shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to
+got aid from the country, I shall be part of the country and can
+enjoy my will, because I will to be part of my country and to help
+build up her greatness and sustain and improve her
+institutions.</p>
+<p>Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an
+institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is
+it, then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a
+growth, a development--a development of what? Is it material? No,
+it is moral; it is <i>soul</i>--then I thought I could see what is
+meant by the country and by her institutions. The country is the
+spirit of the nation--and it is deathless. It is not doomed to
+subjection; take the land--enslave the people--and yet will that
+spirit live and act and have a body. Let our enemies prevail over
+our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is good in our
+institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true idea is
+imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.</p>
+<p>Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the
+false. The false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in
+order to spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be
+better or stronger by that?</p>
+<p>Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by
+good that evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us,
+must we not fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war.
+Must we submit? We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is
+repugnant to the spirit of the nation; death is better than
+submission. But killing, is it not crime? Is crime better than
+submission? No; submission is better than crime But is not
+submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement of the law
+of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime? To
+avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing?
+It seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is
+because the spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the
+world. The world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and
+demands life and freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not
+so unselfish; the spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism;
+the world-spirit raises high the principle of philanthropy
+universal. The country has not developed the world-idea, and will
+not, except feebly; but she will at last, and will be loyal to the
+spirit of the world. Then, unless I am sustained by a greater
+power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the South. I must kill
+and must be killed.</p>
+<p>But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into
+a less readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to
+me I know not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance
+incomprehensible and unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will
+not my conscience force me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse
+than death.</p>
+<p>I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose,
+and walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the
+morrow might be still more soundly sleeping.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet.
+I approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but
+cannot."</p>
+<p>"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by
+ourselves."</p>
+<p>His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct
+toward the men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning
+duties, yet he was very sympathetic in personal matters, and in
+private talk was more courteous and kind toward a private than
+toward an equal. I understood well enough that it was through
+sympathy that he had invited me to unburden.</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I fear."</p>
+<p>"May I ask what it is that you fear?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that I am a coward."</p>
+<p>"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"</p>
+<p>"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."</p>
+<p>"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close
+place when you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were,
+if the truth has been told."</p>
+<p>"That was not I; I am now another man."</p>
+<p>"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."</p>
+<p>"Proving a coward," I replied.</p>
+<p>"You fear that you will fear?" said he.</p>
+<p>"That is exactly it."</p>
+<p>"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."</p>
+<p>"I fear that danger will make me fear."</p>
+<p>"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least
+anybody who has something more than the mere fearlessness of the
+brute that cannot realize danger."</p>
+<p>"Do you fear, too, Captain?"</p>
+<p>The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew
+that his silence was rebuke.</p>
+<p>"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak
+of myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not
+to be thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I
+like the thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are
+very distasteful to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing
+itself to pain; I fear pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear.
+I do not think the fear of death is unmanly, for it is human. Those
+who do not fear death do not love life. Please tell me if you love
+life."</p>
+<p>"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."</p>
+<p>"Do you fear death?"</p>
+<p>"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were
+indifferent to death I should have no fear of being afraid."</p>
+<p>"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in
+the swamp," said he.</p>
+<p>"I don't think I had great fear."</p>
+<p>"Yet you were in danger there."</p>
+<p>"Very little, I think, Captain."</p>
+<p>"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have
+ended your life."</p>
+<p>"I did not realize the situation, then."</p>
+<p>"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."</p>
+<p>"But you did not fear."</p>
+<p>"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a
+knowledge of danger?"</p>
+<p>"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that
+a man may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I
+am afraid that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in
+duty."</p>
+<p>"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail
+in duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case.
+An army consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be
+broken. It is those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause
+disorganization. The touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I
+think, sir; but for the man who will do his duty such dependence
+should not be taught. Good men, instructed to depend on comrades
+will be demoralized when comrades forsake them. Our method of
+battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should be more open. Many
+reasons might be urged for that change, but the one we are now
+considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend on weak
+men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not really
+a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so. Every
+man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless
+of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to
+fight, sir; there are other duties more suited to them."</p>
+<p>"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.</p>
+<p>"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to
+test you now?"</p>
+<p>"To test me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage."
+His voice had become stern.</p>
+<p>I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I
+felt that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position
+into which my fears were working to thrust me.</p>
+<p>"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of
+this suspense."</p>
+<p>"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense
+concerning danger?"</p>
+<p>I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and
+replied, "Yes, Captain, danger is better than fear."</p>
+<p>"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I
+had the right to incur danger uselessly."</p>
+<p>"And how did you settle that?"</p>
+<p>"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."</p>
+<p>He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may
+depress you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a
+soldier as Company H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only
+yesterday, remarked that you were the best-drilled man in the
+company, and showed astonishment that a raw recruit, in less than
+two weeks, should gain such a standing. I thought it advisable to
+say to him that your education had included some military training,
+and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped his official manner.
+"It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly a veteran than
+any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have been
+wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed
+signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that
+you have already seen battle more than once."</p>
+<p>"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at
+all. I am a different man."</p>
+<p>"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I
+appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I
+think every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a
+friend, that you feel fear more sensitively because you live in the
+subjective; you feel thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are
+exclusive."</p>
+<p>"I am forced to be so, Captain."</p>
+<p>"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on
+myself."</p>
+<p>"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it
+positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though
+peculiar; I fancy that you heighten them by your
+self-concentration. The world and objects in it divert other men,
+while your attention is upon your own feelings. Pardon me for
+saying that you think of little except yourself. This new old
+experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution to your
+soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men think
+of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be
+all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will
+be good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."</p>
+<p>"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other
+men and other things," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give
+you that test?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; if you please."</p>
+<p>"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do
+not need it," said he.</p>
+<p>"How so, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed
+to test you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to
+it. Have you lost interest in it?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good
+time."</p>
+<p>"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from
+courage, but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at
+once reject my proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it;
+but, having begun, I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will
+assign you some special duty that will keep you out of battle--such
+as guarding the baggage, or other duty in the rear."</p>
+<p>I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.</p>
+<p>"Why do you hesitate?"</p>
+<p>"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.</p>
+<p>"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but
+did you not urge me on?"</p>
+<p>"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."</p>
+<p>"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept
+my offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not
+see that what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You
+are not intimidated at the prospect of battle."</p>
+<p>"I fear that I shall be," said I.</p>
+<p>"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your
+indignation seems no less natural to yourself than it does to
+me."</p>
+<p>"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my
+fears?"</p>
+<p>"Oblige me by explaining."</p>
+<p>"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the
+purpose of concealing my fear?"</p>
+<p>"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the
+possibility--the strong possibility--of death," said he,
+gravely.</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I
+shall do when it is near is not sure."</p>
+<p>"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice,
+assuming again the relation of an officer.</p>
+<p>"I do not mean it that way, Captain."</p>
+<p>"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least
+to cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch
+you."</p>
+<p>"I wish I could banish fear," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to
+make yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."</p>
+<p>"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will
+not weaken in the time of trial?"</p>
+<p>"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again
+will and will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you
+are ordered to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you
+not decided that you will march with us?"</p>
+<p>"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I
+expect to march."</p>
+<p>"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not
+know that you will march to the battlefield?"</p>
+<p>"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I
+should have no fear of myself."</p>
+<p>"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to
+run away when we get into battle?"</p>
+<p>"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be
+able to have any intention at all."</p>
+<p>"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"</p>
+<p>"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and
+fear the test."</p>
+<p>"You <i>can</i> determine that you will act the man," said he.
+Then, kindly: "I have no fears that you will do otherwise,
+but"--and here his voice again became stern--"the determination
+will rid you of your present fears. Exert your will, and this
+nightmare will go."</p>
+<p>"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"</p>
+<p>"<i>You</i> can. You can drive away your present fear of
+yourself, at the very least."</p>
+<p>"How can I do it, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"I shall give you one more test."</p>
+<p>"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that
+would confirm my fear."</p>
+<p>"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your
+present state of mind--"</p>
+<p>"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"</p>
+<p>"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But
+allow me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you
+are, or you will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect
+before I begin."</p>
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+<p>"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say
+three, you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"</p>
+<p>If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all
+my fears were gone.</p>
+<p>"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even
+hesitatingly.</p>
+<p>"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my
+duty."</p>
+<p>"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse
+me for employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I
+may make a suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein,
+that you will encourage henceforth, the companionship of the
+men."</p>
+<p>"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."</p>
+<p>"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I
+am sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented
+itself to your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."</p>
+<p>"Good night, Captain," said I.</p>
+<p>But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his
+character as my commander.</p>
+<p>"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for
+all your physical strength to-morrow--and after."</p>
+<p>I was almost happy.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXV"></a>XXV</h2>
+<h3>IN THE GREAT BATTLE</h3>
+<center>"If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,<br>
+Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of
+itself; the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else
+we were creatures dominated by our surroundings.</p>
+<p>I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an
+unknown sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I
+touched a larger world, it was only through the medium of the
+company in its relations to that world. I had formed some
+attachments,--ties which have lasted through life thus far, and
+will always last,--but these attachments were immediate only, and,
+so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not directly could I
+see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside the narrow
+bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for that
+world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I
+called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to
+every other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal
+world rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although
+the ideal after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me
+must be lacking in the varying quality of light, and the delicate
+degrees of sweetness and truth which home and friends and all the
+material good of earth were said to assume for charming their
+possessors. The day brought me into contact with men; the night
+left me alone with myself. In my presence men spoke of homes far
+away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and children. I could see
+how deep was the interest which moved them to speak, and, in a
+measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was mystery rather
+than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could fill these
+pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps, for my
+memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should
+say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard
+with the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier.
+Absorbed in reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world
+of which I knew so little, it is not to be doubted that I
+constructed ideals far beyond the humdrum reality of home life,
+impracticable ideals that tended only to separate me more from
+other men. Their world was not my world; this I knew full well, and
+I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude treatment
+marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a friend. My
+weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left me
+more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have
+been hopeless.</p>
+<p>Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree,
+everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and
+although I was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my
+mind and hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over
+myself, and I hoped that I should always determine to live the life
+of a healthy human being, that I should be able to accept the
+relationships which, through Company H, bound me to all men and all
+things, and that my interest henceforth would be
+diversified--touching the world and what is in it rather than
+myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain change was
+in the banishment of my former indifference.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we
+yet held our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was
+heard in every regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored
+in Richmond.</p>
+<p>"<i>Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"</i>
+shouted Orderly-sergeant Mackay.</p>
+<p>By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid
+stride. Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.</p>
+<p>At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see
+before us and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in
+motion.</p>
+<p>Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding
+back along the line of the Light Division.</p>
+<p>Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the
+roar of cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and
+meadows; the passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go
+through gaps in rail fences.</p>
+<p>And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising
+from our left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait.
+The noise of battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company
+on our right is passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes
+the topmost rail at the left and hurls it clear over their heads.
+Then I see men pale, and I know that my own face is white.</p>
+<p>Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which
+rises to our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No
+breaking of ranks for rest or for water; the long night through we
+lie on our arms.</p>
+<p>Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry.
+At sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and
+down country roads; we go southeast.</p>
+<p>The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company
+C, the right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.</p>
+<p>Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An
+orderly comes to Captain Haskell.</p>
+<p>"<i>Company H!</i> ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>Every man is in his place--alert.</p>
+<p>"<i>Forward</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>"<i>By the right flank</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>"HALT!--FRONT!"</p>
+<p>"<i>Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take
+intervals--double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the
+left of Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or
+more, through woods and fields, the brigade following in line of
+battle.</p>
+<p>About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open
+land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had
+halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From
+this position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a
+group of horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road,
+or line, that would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at
+once in place. The distance was too great to tell the uniforms of
+the party of horsemen; but, of course, they could be only
+Yankees.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The
+horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen
+or twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the
+most eligible one of the group, and fire.</p>
+<p>Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his
+shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to
+fire; they may be our men."</p>
+<p>The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put
+his handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A
+horseman advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company
+H, and said, "They are General Jackson and his staff."</p>
+<p>Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see
+tents--a camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a
+few men running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been
+abandoned hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly;
+they were curious to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the
+cracking of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets, and the
+voice of Captain Haskell commanding, "<i>Lie down!</i>"</p>
+<p>Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent.
+The Yankee skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind
+trees on the opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I
+could see them looking out from behind the trees and firing. I took
+good aim at one and pulled the trigger; his bullet came back at me;
+I loaded and fired; I saw him no more, but I could see the smoke
+shoot out from the side of the tree and hear his bullet sing. I
+thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw him again, and fired,
+and missed. Then I carefully considered the distance, and concluded
+that it was greater than I had first thought. I raised the sliding
+sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the man, whom I
+could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the tree,
+and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind the
+tree.</p>
+<p>We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally;
+other men slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade
+was behind us, waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly
+I heard Captain Haskell's voice ordering us forward at
+double-quick. We ran down the hill into the valley below; there we
+found a shallow creek with steep banks covered with briers. We beat
+down the briers with our guns, and scrambled through to the other
+side of the creek in time to see the Yankees run scattering through
+the woods and away. We reached their position and rested while the
+brigade found a crossing and formed again in our rear. I searched
+for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but found none; yet I felt
+sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked another out from
+the tree above him.</p>
+<p>We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more.
+At length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed
+the withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them
+again until we should strike their main lines.</p>
+<p>Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt
+Jackson's--could be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left,
+marching forward and yet at a distance from our own line. We
+reached an elevated clearing, and halted. The brigade came up, and
+we returned to our position in the line of battle--on the left of
+the First. It was about three o'clock; to the right, far away, we
+could hear the pounding of artillery, while to the southeast,
+somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other side of the
+Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell. Shells
+from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped
+headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began
+firing. The line of infantry hugged the ground.</p>
+<p>Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a
+hollow; the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was
+on the hill beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were
+there and at work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were
+coming into line far to our right.</p>
+<p>General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the
+wooded slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the
+wooded hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill,
+still in the woods.</p>
+<p>The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted
+and re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was
+distinct; shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the
+trunks of the trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick
+with men firing into us in the woods. Those in our front were
+Zouaves, with big, baggy, red breeches. We began to fire kneeling.
+Leaves fell from branches above us, and branches fell, cut down by
+artillery. Butler, of our company, lying at my right hand, gave a
+howl of pain; his head was bathed in blood. Lieutenant Rhett was
+dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in the Yankee camp. He
+had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long aim, and fired;
+lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the effect, and
+yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot. Lieutenant
+Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker. Our
+colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two
+colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of
+the Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.</p>
+<p>A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--</p>
+<p>"<i>Bri-ga-a-a-de</i>--ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>"<i>Fi-i-i-x</i>--BAYONETS!"</p>
+<p>"<i>For-w-a-r-d</i>--" and the next I knew men were dropping
+down all around me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute
+did we go forward. From front and left came a tempest of lead;
+again the colours--both--fell, and all the colour-guard. The
+colonel raised the colours. We staggered and fell back; the retreat
+through the woods became disorder.</p>
+<p>On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only
+six, but one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced,
+but shell and shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again
+in full action. We hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some
+regiment--the Thirtieth North Carolina--was advancing on our right.
+Captain Haskell and his six men joined this regiment, placing
+themselves on its left. The Thirtieth went forward through the
+woods--reached the open--and charged.</p>
+<p>The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man
+seeing whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his
+voice at its worst.</p>
+<p>Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found
+a sunken road, and the temptation was too great--down into the
+friendly road we fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the
+dust.</p>
+<p>The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the
+men calmly looked at their officers.</p>
+<p>A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging,
+gesticulating. He got near to Haskell--</p>
+<p>"Who <i>are</i> you?" shouted our Captain.</p>
+<p>"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."</p>
+<p>"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.</p>
+<p>Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the
+Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the
+battle-flag high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up
+the hill.</p>
+<p>Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet,
+and followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world
+hideous with yells.</p>
+<p>And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great
+horse was lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was
+gained.</p>
+<p>The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North
+Carolina regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six
+were yet unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on
+its left, and charged with it for another position. Believe it or
+not, the same thing recurred; the regiment charged well; from the
+smoke in front death came out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be
+crossed, and was not crossed; down the men all went to save their
+lives.</p>
+<p>And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the
+road.</p>
+<p>Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the
+regiment; he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he
+looked not back, but forward.</p>
+<p>The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one
+of the six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that
+the regiment was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his
+Captain and told him that the regiment did not follow.</p>
+<p>The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I
+tell you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."</p>
+<p>Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag
+would not be taken back to the regiment lying down.</p>
+<p>On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The
+bullets and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came
+on--and the others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and
+tried to load, but could not. I felt a great pain strike under my
+belt and was afraid to look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at
+length I exerted my will, and controlled my fear, and saw my
+trousers torn. My first wound had deadened my leg, but I felt no
+great pain--the leg was numb. The new blow was torture. I managed
+to take down my clothing, and saw a great blue-black spot on my
+groin. I was confused, and wondered where the bullet went, and
+perhaps became unconscious.</p>
+<p>Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet
+lay on the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me.
+Had a tide of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly
+called for help, and I crawled to the voice, but could give no help
+except to cut a shoe from a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles
+could be seen,--the enemy's rifles,--they came nearer and nearer,
+and I felt doomed to capture.</p>
+<p>Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom
+a host of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the
+last charge of Gaines's Mill.</p>
+<p>"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two
+replied:--</p>
+<p>"Hood's brigade."</p>
+<p>"The Hampton Legion."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and
+moved and disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men
+with torches and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into
+the darkness by the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and
+for others who could not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina!
+First South Carolina!" and I gathered up my strength and cried,
+"Here!" Louis Bellot and two others came to me. They carried me
+tenderly away, but not far; still in the field of blood they laid
+me down on the hillside--and a night of horror passed slowly
+away.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to
+the field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the
+battlefield. Our way was through scattered corpses. We passed by
+many Zouaves, lying stiff and stark; one I shall always call to
+mind: he was lying flat on his back, the soles of his feet firm on
+the ground, his knees drawn up to right angles above, and with his
+elbows planted on the grass, his fingers clinched the air. His open
+mouth grinned ghastly on us as we went by.</p>
+<p>At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous
+that I was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that
+was all. I had already found out that the bullet had passed
+entirely through the fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears;
+but the limb now gave me great pain, and I should have been glad to
+have it dressed. I was laid upon the ground under a tree and
+remained there until night, when I was put with others into an
+ambulance and taken to some station on some railroad--I have never
+known what station or what road. The journey was painful. I was in
+the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough roads,
+halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead.
+The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and
+begging for this or that. I did not know their voices; they were
+not of our company. But some time in the night I learned somehow--I
+suppose by his companion calling his name--that one of the men
+below me was named Virgil Harley. Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley?
+Why, I knew that name once! Surely I knew that name in South
+Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made aware that Virgil
+Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the railroad, I was
+taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil Harley. "He
+is dead," was the answer.</p>
+<p>Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest
+opportunity, now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able
+to tell me of myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had
+but heard his voice in groans that ended in the death-rattle.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2>
+<h3>A BROKEN MUSKET</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"What seest thou else<br>
+In the dark backward and abysm of time?<br>
+If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,<br>
+How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early
+morning. Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister
+unto the needs of the suffering; delicacies were served
+bountifully, and hearts as well as stomachs were cheered; there
+were evidences of sympathy and honour on every hand.</p>
+<p>Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old
+tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My
+clothing was cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of
+dirt and even worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the
+nurse brought me the contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the
+rest, a marble and a flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in
+the watch-pocket of my trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my
+"taw" in that pocket; the bullet had struck the marble, which had
+saved me from a serious if not fatal wound.</p>
+<p>The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred
+wounded men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few
+belonging to my regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance
+was quickly made, however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I
+think, was ever called by his name. He was Georgia, or
+Alabama,--his State, whatever that was. My neighbours called me, of
+course, South Carolina.</p>
+<p>Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot.
+I remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in
+ward vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I
+noticed that he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which
+were amazingly big blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why
+such buttons had been used. He replied that, a month before he had
+been on furlough at his home in Alabama, and that his mother had
+made him two new shirts, and had made use of the extraordinary
+objects which I now saw because they were all she had. He had told
+her jestingly that she was putting that big blue button on the
+middle of his breast to be a target for some Yankee; and, sure
+enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital was a rifle
+shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama laughed,
+too, but not long. He died.</p>
+<p>For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life
+there was totally void of incident. After the first week, in which
+we learned of the further successes of the Confederate arms and of
+our final check at Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt
+concerning Lee's army, now doing nothing more than watching
+McClellan, who had intrenched on the river below Richmond, under
+the protection of the Federal fleet. We learned with some degree of
+interest that another Federal army was organizing under General
+Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern hopes were so high in
+consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign, and the manifest
+safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no concern; of course
+I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I found
+myself.</p>
+<p>At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a
+little, and in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on
+crutches. On the first day of August I was surprised to see Joe
+Bellot enter the ward. The brigade had marched into Richmond, and
+was about to take the cars for Gordonsville in order to join
+Jackson, who was making head against Pope. It was only a few
+minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had to hurry back to the
+command.</p>
+<p>Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a
+furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home
+was Company H.</p>
+<p>I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong
+rapidly, when the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks
+at Cedar Run. Then my feverish anxiety to see the one or two
+persons in the world whom I loved became intense. I walked into the
+surgeon's office, keeping myself straight, and asked an order
+remanding me to my company. He flatly refused to give it. Said he,
+"You would never reach your company; where is it, by the way?"</p>
+<p>"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.</p>
+<p>"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."</p>
+<p>On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You
+would have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it
+would be insane."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a
+half by getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me
+again in about a week."</p>
+<p>I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving
+me my papers, by means of which I got transportation to
+Gordonsville, where I arrived, in company with many soldiers
+returning to their commands, on August 22d. From Gordonsville I
+took the road north afoot. There was no difficulty in knowing the
+way, for there was no lack of men and wagons going and returning. I
+had filled a haversack with food before I left Richmond--enough for
+two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were all my
+possessions.</p>
+<p>At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot
+dusty road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which
+stopped as I approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to
+him. He said: "Don't go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man
+in the road and he's a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go
+round him." I thanked the teamster, who drove on. At the foot of
+the ascending hill I looked ahead to see whether there was a way to
+get round it, but the road seemed better than any other way. Heavy
+clouds were rolling up from the south, with wind and thunder. A
+farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the road; I wanted to get
+there if possible before the rain. In the road I saw nobody. I
+walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend the wagoner
+was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the side of
+the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into the
+middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun
+at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a
+word. Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an
+unpleasant experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he
+changed his attitude at once, and began the second part of his
+programme. He dropped his piece to the position of ordered arms,
+kept himself erect as on dress-parade, raised his right hand high,
+and shouted, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p>
+<p>I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip
+round him, keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun
+might, after all, be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his
+cry, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p>
+<p>The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him,
+and seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks
+with overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by
+cattle, I was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could
+hear behind me the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had
+lost his reason in battle.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting
+to surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were
+moving; Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General
+Gregg, riding at the head of his brigade; then one regiment after
+another till the last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C
+leading. I remained behind the tree; at last I could see Captain
+Haskell marching by the side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I
+stepped out and marched by the side of the Captain. At first, in
+the twilight, he did not know me; then, with a touch of gladness in
+his voice, he said: "I did not expect you back so soon. Are you
+fully recovered?"</p>
+<p>"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.</p>
+<p>He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and
+had me tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He
+informed me briefly of the movements which had taken place
+recently. The regiment had been under fire in the battle with
+Banks, but had not suffered any loss. On this day--the 24th--the
+regiment had been under fire of the Federal artillery on the
+Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a place called
+Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first movements
+of an active campaign.</p>
+<p>The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in
+the battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and
+hardship had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was
+almost the only officer in the company. My mess had broken up.
+There were but four remaining of the original nine, and these four
+had found it more convenient for two men, or even one, to form a
+mess. I found a companion in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been
+wounded severely at Gaines's Mill. Bellot had a big quart cup in
+which we boiled soup, and coffee when we had any, or burnt-bread
+for coffee when the real stuff was lacking. Flour and bacon were
+issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth, or gum-blanket
+as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by spreading
+it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When these
+boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender
+rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the
+fire on wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food
+brought from Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's
+ration was issued.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's
+right. I had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed
+so as to keep up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in
+the ranks or not, as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men.
+The day's march was something terrible. We went west, and
+northwest, and north, fording streams, taking short cuts across
+fields, hurrying on and on. No train of wagons delayed our march;
+our next rations must be won from the enemy. Jackson's rule in
+marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then ten minutes
+rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched, and
+rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at
+once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac
+near a village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles
+to the west of Pope's right flank.</p>
+<p>There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A
+detail from each company was ordered to gather the green ears from
+some fields of corn purchased for the use of the government. That
+night I committed the crime of eating eighteen of the ears half
+roasted.</p>
+<p>At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon
+straggled. I was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a
+place for me in some ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick
+woods and lay down; I slept, and when I awoke the sun was in
+mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps was ten miles ahead, but I was no
+longer ill. The troops had all passed me; there were no men on the
+road except a few stragglers like myself. I hurried forward through
+White Plains--then along a railroad through a gap in some
+mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last, about ten
+o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in despair,
+I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.</p>
+<p>Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry
+toward the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at
+sunrise, and soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our
+troops. Up to this time I had been unarmed, and all the men
+destitute of food; here now was an embarrassment of riches. I got a
+short Enfield rifle, marked for eleven hundred yards. Everything
+was in abundance except good water. The troops of Jackson and Ewell
+and Hill crammed their haversacks, and loaded themselves with
+whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies in too many cases.
+Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of smoking
+tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of
+vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea,
+medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken
+or burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were
+forced to drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its
+margin, and I know not what horrors beneath its green, slimy
+surface. Before daylight of the 28th we marched northward in the
+glare of the burning cars and camps. We crossed Bull Run on a
+bridge, some of the men fording; here we got better water, but not
+good water.</p>
+<p>In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed
+to know the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we
+making for Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain.
+He told me that he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place,
+but that he had no doubt we should be able to hold our own until
+Longstreet could force his way to our help. We were between Pope's
+army and Washington, and it was certain that Pope would make every
+effort to crush Jackson.</p>
+<p>About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west,
+down the Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's
+division had marched to Centreville; the other divisions of
+Jackson's corps were at the west, and beyond Bull Run. After
+matching a mile or two we could see to the eastward and south,
+great clouds of dust rolling up above the woods, evidently made by
+a column in march upon the road by which, we had that morning
+advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that Pope's army--or
+a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope was hot
+after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and halted
+in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most of
+us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and
+were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty.
+My increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in
+fact, the greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and
+accoutrements--consisted in food which diminished at short
+intervals. We could not yet expect rations.</p>
+<p>We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to
+march, and moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed
+line facing south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed
+the whole of Hill's division was there, though I could see only our
+regiment. Soon firing began at our right and right front; it
+increased in volume, and artillery and musketry roared and subsided
+until dark and after. At dark, the brigade again moved to the
+right, seemingly to support the troops that had been engaged, and
+which we found to be Ewell's division.</p>
+<p>We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to
+preserve the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of
+the enemy was passing just beyond the hills in front of us.
+Suddenly the sound of many voices broke out beyond the hills. The
+Federal column was cheering. Near and far the cry rose and fell as
+one command after another took it from the next. What the noise was
+made for I never knew; probably Pope's sanguine order, in which he
+expressed the certainty of having "the whole crowd bagged," had
+been made known to his troops for the purpose of encouraging them.
+Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what good fortune had
+made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet I believe
+that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night, had
+confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a
+certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one
+more victory.</p>
+<p>Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I
+do not know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very
+far, and that when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing
+northeast. Already the sound of musketry and cannon had been heard
+close in our front. Our regiment, left in front, was in the woods.
+We brought our right in front, and then the brigade moved forward
+down a slope to an unfinished railroad.</p>
+<p>Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that
+he would not need it.</p>
+<p>Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers.
+The regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into
+the fields beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company
+H. The regiment met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments
+from the brigade were hurried to the support of the First, which,
+by this time, was falling back before a full division of the enemy.
+The brigade retired in good order to the railroad, and Company H
+was ordered back into the battle line on the left of the First.</p>
+<a name="367.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/367.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<br>
+<b>Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"</b></p>
+<p>It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment,
+under Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods
+as skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We
+came up with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began
+firing. We advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly
+through the woods. After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing
+that our small force was much too far from support, order was given
+to the skirmishers to retire; a heavy line of the enemy had been
+developed. This order did not reach my ears. I suppose that I was
+in the very act of firing when the order was given. While
+reloading, I became aware that the company had retired, as I could
+see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line some
+thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I
+feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many
+rifles. The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from
+my tree to another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar
+movement--and again--at each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and
+considering in front. At last I was out of sight of the enemy, and
+also out of sight of Company H.</p>
+<p>The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg
+had not regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well
+as weak. I crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for
+water. Still no enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or
+pool, following the wet place down a gentle slope, which inclined
+to my right oblique as I retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank
+my fill; then I filled my canteen and rose to my feet
+refreshed.</p>
+<p>Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar
+spanning the little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there
+for a second. Here was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide,
+this spot was what I should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen
+tree, mingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.</p>
+<p>The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began
+to wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I
+crossed here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the
+right. What was the secret of the influence which the spot held
+over me? I had seen it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly
+puzzled.</p>
+<p>On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I
+picked up the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up
+the stock. Why should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew
+not, but I knew that I was drawn in some way by it. On the stock
+were carved the letters J. B. Who had owned this gun? John Brown?
+James Butler? Then the thought came suddenly--why not Jones
+Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd? Did I know who I was,
+or where I had been, or where I had not been?</p>
+<p>A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I
+dropped the gun and ran.</p>
+<p>I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And
+now we made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our
+position was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade,
+which was posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all
+around us. Soon the blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began
+firing. The Federals sprang at once to trees and began popping away
+at us. The range was close. Grant was mortally hit. My group of
+four on that day was reduced to one man. Goettee fell, and Godley.
+We kept up the fight. But now a blue line of battle could be seen
+advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept coming, reserving their
+fire until they should pass beyond their skirmish-line. We should
+have withdrawn at once, but waited until the line of battle had
+reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to fall back. When
+we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us, and we lost
+some men.</p>
+<p>Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which
+was now the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of
+the corps. Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's
+line.</p>
+<p>General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of
+Pope's army, without severing communication with Longstreet; but
+the developments of the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope
+and Washington while yet the corps of Longstreet was two days'
+march behind, and beyond the Bull Run mountains. Pope had made
+dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay Longstreet he occupied with
+a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which Jackson had marched and
+I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his other divisions had
+marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to retreat toward
+the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division reached
+Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope was
+marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer
+Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which
+had occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the
+passage of Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was
+thus forced to yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during
+the night of the 28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington
+without a battle, but he decided to overwhelm Jackson before
+Longstreet could reach the field, and attacked hotly on the
+Confederate left.</p>
+<p>The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in
+consequence of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of
+Pope to overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope
+until Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within
+six hours' march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying
+in the woods, Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat,
+were marching with rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in
+their front, where, upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing
+division after division into the fight.</p>
+<p>Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a
+rail fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far
+side of the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of
+our line did not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in
+the battle we were forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the
+Federals advancing through the field to turn our left.</p>
+<p>Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme
+left before the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their
+coming straight through the woods upon us. They reached the
+undergrowth which bordered the farther side of the railroad way.
+The orders of their officers could be heard. We lay in the open
+woods, each man behind a tree as far as was possible; but the trees
+were too few. The dense bushes, which had grown up in the edge of
+the railroad way, effectually concealed the enemy. We were hoping
+for them to come on and get into view, but they remained in the
+bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We returned
+their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots
+would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at
+the line of smoke in the thick bushes.</p>
+<p>Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had
+retired; but if they had done so, it was only to give place to a
+fresh body of troops, which opened upon us a new and terrific fire.
+We had nothing to do but to endure and fire into the bushes. If our
+line had attempted to cross the railroad, not one of us would have
+reached it; the Federals also were afraid to advance.</p>
+<p>Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was
+only premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we
+stood that day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal
+lines gave way, or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods
+were thick with dead. Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box
+were dead. Joe Bellot was fearfully wounded. Many had been carried
+to the rear, and many yet lay bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be
+taken out when the fight ceased. Each man lay behind the best tree
+he could get; the trees had become more plentiful. We fired lying,
+kneeling, standing, sometimes running; but the line held. If we had
+had but the smallest breastwork!--but we had none.</p>
+<p>In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a
+force around our left--through the open field; but each time they
+were driven back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we
+could not see, somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before
+this time Longstreet had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of
+great fighting came from the east and southeast.</p>
+<p>We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although
+our boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up
+the cartridges of our wounded and dead.</p>
+<p>Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive
+with Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened
+ranks,--no longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots
+went high; before the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they
+had not waited to reload.</p>
+<p>Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near
+that every shot told.</p>
+<p>Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected
+groups; they are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a
+towering man--his sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great
+form and his long red hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour
+of his bearing. He makes no pause. He strikes right and left. Men
+fall away from him. Our group is scattering, some to gain time to
+load, others in flight. The great sergeant rushes toward me; his
+gun rises again in his mighty hands, and the blow descends. I slip
+aside; the force of the blow almost carries him to the ground, but
+he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his gun back over his
+shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will strike. I raise
+my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his expression
+yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed
+determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes
+through an indescribable change as the blood spouts from his
+forehead and he falls lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my
+rear<a name="FNanchor7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7">[7]</a>.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor7">[7]</a>
+The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's
+brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back
+Gregg's worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade
+of Ewell's division. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to
+flee from either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold
+fast and fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I
+see our flag, and near it a flag of the Federals.</p>
+<p>In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is
+left of them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic
+Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's
+sake, stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the
+flag. Our line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling
+away. Defeat is here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will
+shine the brightest over America; but now from our rear a
+Confederate yell rises high and shrill through the bullet-scarred
+forest, and a fresh brigade advances at the charge, relieves the
+vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far back the Federal tide of
+war. It was none too soon.</p>
+<p>On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered
+roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen
+responded; we had lost none as prisoners.</p>
+<p>The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in
+reserve. We were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in
+the rear of our position of the 29th, and details were burying our
+dead, when we were ordered to form. We marched some distance to the
+left. A low grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail
+fence at the woods about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came
+amongst us from the fence at the woods, toward which we were
+marching in column of fours, right in front. I heard the order from
+Major McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and Haskell
+repeated--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>On the right--by
+file--into line--MARCH</i>!" This manoeuvre brought the regiment
+into column of companies still marching in its former direction,
+Company H being the rear of all.</p>
+<p>Again I heard McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and
+Haskell again--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>Left--half
+wheel</i>!" and Haskell--"<i>Left wheel</i>!"--then
+McCrady--"<i>Forward into line</i>," and both
+voices--"<i>Double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close
+fire and by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective
+companies executed simultaneously their work, and as their
+graduated distances demanded, rushed forward, with a speed
+constantly increasing toward the left company, Company H, which
+wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence from which the enemy
+fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell severely wounded.</p>
+<p>For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged.
+We heard the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further
+part.</p>
+<p>On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying
+under fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or
+Chantilly as the Yankees call it. The regiment did not become
+engaged.</p>
+<p>The campaign of eight days was over.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2>
+<h3>CAPTAIN HASKELL</h3>
+<center>"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,<br>
+Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And cometh from afar;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not in entire forgetfulness,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And not in utter nakedness,<br>
+But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br>
+From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe
+Bellot was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept
+alone.</p>
+<p>For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one
+of these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me
+to accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was
+being done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he
+ordered in clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the
+duty had ended, he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree
+yonder."</p>
+<p>The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left---
+that is, the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both
+vedettes and pickets, so far as they could be seen for the
+irregularities of ground. Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw
+off all official reserve.</p>
+<p>"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company
+did its full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when
+the Yankees made that last charge."</p>
+<p>"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved
+earlier," said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a
+little to the right of our position, the men fought the enemy with
+stones for lack of cartridges."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next
+movement?"</p>
+<p>"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am
+convinced that we cannot remain where we are."</p>
+<p>"Why?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I
+am told that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville.
+The bridges are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to
+rebuild them, as they would be constantly in danger from the
+enemy's cavalry. I am informed that McClellan's whole army, as well
+as Burnside's corps from North Carolina, has joined Pope; General
+McClellan is said to be in command. If Pope's army, which we have
+just fought, was larger than ours, then McClellan's combined forces
+must be more than twice as great as General Lee's."</p>
+<p>"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I
+speculate also. It seems to me that every mile of a further advance
+would but take from our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If
+we could seize Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do
+that, I think, and as for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it.
+Even to sit down here could do us no good, I imagine; our
+communications would be always interrupted."</p>
+<p>"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I
+asked.</p>
+<p>"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am
+puzzled," he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an
+opportunity to gain time for the South to recuperate, if we make
+prudent demonstrations; but an actual advance does not appear
+possible. General Lee may make a show of advancing; I dare say we
+could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does not such manoeuvre
+meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our enemies know it
+or should know it."</p>
+<p>I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an
+instance of his unfailing habit of courtesy.</p>
+<p>"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here,
+and ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat,
+what other course is possible?"</p>
+<p>"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to
+the belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take
+Harper's Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland
+people."</p>
+<p>"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a
+considerable garrison."</p>
+<p>"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like
+McClellan's?"</p>
+<p>"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once,
+I should think that there would then be no good reason for this
+army's crossing the river. But military success is said to be
+obtained, in the majority of cases, from the mistakes of the
+losers. It might be that we could take Harper's Ferry at very
+little cost; and even if we should fail, we should be prolonging
+the campaign upon ground that we cannot hope to occupy permanently,
+and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What I fear, however, is
+that the movement would bring on another general engagement; and I
+think you will agree with me in believing that we are not prepared
+for that."</p>
+<p>"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.</p>
+<p>"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"</p>
+<p>"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last
+experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday
+there happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of
+it."</p>
+<p>"May I ask what it was?"</p>
+<p>"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen
+before."</p>
+<p>"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are
+typical. Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in
+twenty other places."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical
+features of the place that awoke recognition."</p>
+<p>"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.</p>
+<p>"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced
+as skirmishers?"</p>
+<p>"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the
+Captain.</p>
+<p>"And you remember the order to fall back?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly, since I took the initiative."</p>
+<p>"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the
+very moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it.
+At any rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and
+retreated as skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight.
+I saw some signs of water, and soon found a branch, at a place
+which impressed me so strongly that for a moment I forgot even that
+the battle was going on. I am almost certain that I had quenched my
+thirst at that spot once before. Besides, there was an
+extraordinary--"</p>
+<p>"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the
+first battle of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last
+year's battle, you came upon it from the east or the south. The
+positions of the armies the other day were almost opposite their
+positions last year. In sixty-one the Federals had almost our
+position of last Friday. It will be well to find out what South
+Carolina troops were in the first battle. By the way, General Bee,
+who was killed there, was from South Carolina; I will ask Aleck to
+tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had
+been there in some former life."</p>
+<p>"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a
+thought or have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with
+such an idea."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"</p>
+<p>"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question
+surprises me, sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such
+subjects?"</p>
+<p>"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have
+once been familiar to me."</p>
+<p>"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is
+no telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine;
+you may have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading
+would have influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to
+thoughtful subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I
+think it quite probable, sir, without flattery, that at college
+your professor had an apt student."</p>
+<p>"But you do not believe the doctrine?"</p>
+<p>"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that
+we live after death."</p>
+<p>"And that I shall be I again and again?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you
+will be you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one
+death."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your
+former experiences?"</p>
+<p>"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I
+might go so far as to say that it makes no difference."</p>
+<p>"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the
+past me with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought
+there, Captain. It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one
+before, and another now,--and that really I have lived this present
+time, or these present times, in two bodies and with two
+minds."</p>
+<p>"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought
+as to your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that
+memory is necessary to identity?"</p>
+<p>"And that is error?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves
+it. If memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you
+have a personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have
+you taken?"</p>
+<p>"I do remember some things," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof
+that you are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any
+one. Every one has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what
+happened when he was in swaddling clothes, though he is the same
+person now that he was then, which proves that although a person
+loses his memory, he does not on that account, sir, lose his
+identity."</p>
+<p>"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."</p>
+<p>"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am,
+except that I am I."</p>
+<p>"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.</p>
+<p>"And I am distinct? independent?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the
+world who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know
+that we are seriously considering such a question."</p>
+<p>This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in
+some inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among
+fragments of thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten
+past. I felt helpless in the presence of the Captain; I could not
+presume to press his good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he
+added: "A man is distinct from other men, but not from himself. He
+constantly changes, and constantly remains the same."</p>
+<p>"That is hard to understand, Captain."</p>
+<p>"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything
+means every other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing,
+even the least,--if there be a least,--we should necessarily
+comprehend all things," said the Captain.</p>
+<p>Then he talked at large of the relations that bind
+everything--and of matter, force, spirit, which he called a
+trinity.</p>
+<p>"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God
+has the properties of matter?"</p>
+<p>"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter.
+Even our minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is
+anything else we conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are
+we bound to matter, and our thoughts are limited."</p>
+<p>"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"</p>
+<p>"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to
+image force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We
+try to image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to
+how God looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our
+imagination. Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot
+attribute extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the
+infinite mind has parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a
+contradiction."</p>
+<p>"Then God has no properties?"</p>
+<p>"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them,
+He has all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must
+attribute elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an
+elastic universal."</p>
+<p>"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force,
+and spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between
+God and matter?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above
+force."</p>
+<p>"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of
+it can be lost," said I.</p>
+<p>"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking
+at me fixedly, almost sternly.</p>
+<p>The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where
+<i>had</i> I heard it? My attention had been so fastened on the
+Captain's philosophy that it now seemed to me that I had become
+unguarded, and that from outside of me a thought had been sent into
+my mind by some unknown power; I could not know whence the thought
+had come. I had suddenly felt that I had heard the theory in
+question. I knew that, the moment before, I could not have said
+what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without feeling that I
+was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain Haskell.
+Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had
+spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I
+had heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken
+differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a
+place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to
+something. But the flash had vanished.</p>
+<p>"It is lost," I said.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry," said he.</p>
+<p>"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.</p>
+<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>
+<p>"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot
+where I got water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun
+with J.B. on the stock."</p>
+<p>"Are you sure, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them
+closely."</p>
+<p>"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other
+reflections."</p>
+<p>"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."</p>
+<p>"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain;
+"you almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your
+name is Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of
+initials. Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."</p>
+<p>"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult
+than J.B.?"</p>
+<p>"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three
+initials."</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are right in that," he said.</p>
+<p>"And I know I am right about my name." said I.</p>
+<p>"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We
+have three--or did have three--other men in the company whose
+initials are J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not
+recognize your own work in the lettering?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody
+might imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not
+another J.B. in Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant
+that he had any connection with that gun."</p>
+<p>"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"</p>
+<p>"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than
+Berwick. Beside, if you should change now, it would cause
+remark."</p>
+<p>"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South
+Carolina regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he.
+"You may go with me to see him to-night if you will."</p>
+<p>That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general,
+was able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of
+troops from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from
+that state. After hearing my description of the place which I
+thought I had revisited, he expressed the opinion that no
+Confederate troops at all had reached the spot in the battle of
+sixty-one. The place, he said, was more than a mile from the
+position of the Confederate army in the battle; still, he admitted,
+many scattered Federals retreated over the ground which interested
+me so greatly, and it was possible that some Confederates had been
+over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but as for pursuit,
+there had been none. I asked if it could have been possible for me
+to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the rear of the
+Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been allowed to
+keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in missing
+too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a baker's
+dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I
+think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there
+as a scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys
+call him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was
+at Stone Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell
+had turned our left and was marching down from Sudley. You might
+have been sent out to watch the enemy; yet I am confident that
+Evans would have used his cavalry for that purpose, for he had a
+company of cavalry in his command. A more plausible guess might be
+that you were out foraging that morning and got cut off. I will
+look up the Fourth South Carolina for you, and try to learn
+something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and I should not
+advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced that
+you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been
+recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection
+with your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find
+out who you are."</p>
+<p>"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose
+that a letter addressed to the manager would answer."</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"But--" I began.</p>
+<p>"But what?"</p>
+<p>"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an
+unknown man to tell me who I am?"</p>
+<p>"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who
+by this speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed
+on the roll of his company.</p>
+<p>As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain
+whether, in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged
+to the Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was
+pleased, evidently, by this question, and said that he should
+certainly try to hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should
+hope to be able to do so, as transfers were frequently granted, and
+as an application from me would come with peculiar force when the
+circumstances should be made known at headquarters. Of course,
+there would be no difficulty unless the application should be
+disapproved by my company commander, that is, the commander of my
+original company.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C."
+inquiring if a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his
+house about October 17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to
+learn from the hotel register, or from any other known source, the
+home of said Berwick.</p>
+<p>To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2>
+<h3>BEYOND THE POTOMAC</h3>
+<center>"Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,<br>
+And we are graced with wreaths of victory;<br>
+But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,<br>
+I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,<br>
+That will encounter with our glorious sun."<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in
+September, and marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th
+at White's Ford near Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in
+Maryland about midday of the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which,
+for the time, was too hard for me. My wound had again given me
+trouble; while wading the Potomac I noticed fresh blood on the
+scar.</p>
+<p>We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning
+Owens of Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly
+fell back and began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to
+him, but could do nothing to help him. He struggled for a few
+moments and became rigid. Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought
+there was no sense in going for help when all was over. The surgeon
+came and soon got Owens upon his feet. This incident made a deep
+impression on me. It seemed a forcible illustration of the trite
+sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life there's hope," and it
+became to me a source of frequent encouragement.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap
+of the Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful
+valley, dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody
+seamed to know.</p>
+<p>We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the
+Potomac at Williamsport, where we learned definitely that
+Longstreet's wing of the army had been held in Maryland. We marched
+southward to Martinsburg. The inhabitants were greatly rejoiced,
+and were surprised to find Confederate troops coming amongst them
+from the north. At Martinsburg were many evidences that we were
+near the enemy. Captain Haskell said that it was now clear that Lee
+intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that Longstreet's retention on
+the north side of the Potomac was part of the plan. We destroyed
+the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward the east.
+Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's
+Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon
+from our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing
+shells into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were
+replying.</p>
+<p>On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right.
+We found a narrow road running down the river,--the
+Shenandoah,--and moved on cautiously. There were strict orders to
+preserve silence. The guns were uncapped, to prevent an accidental
+discharge. In the middle of the night we moved out of the road and
+began to climb the hill on our left; it was very steep and rough;
+we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut a way for the
+artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.</p>
+<p>When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the
+enemy. Our batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of
+battle. The enemy replies with all his guns, but they were soon
+silenced. A brigade at our left seemed ready to advance; the
+enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then from our left a battery
+stormed forward to a new position much nearer to the enemy. We were
+ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to advance, but was at
+once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered, with eleven
+thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and munitions
+in great quantity.</p>
+<p>We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two,
+far-off sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after
+the surrender, A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only
+division at Harper's Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's
+corps having marched away, some said to the help of Longstreet on
+the north side of the Potomac; then we felt that some great event
+was near, and we wondered whether it should befall us to remain
+distant from the army during a great engagement.</p>
+<p>The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard
+in the north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in
+position while our details worked in organizing the captured
+property. The prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that
+they were to be released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered
+along the roads on the 15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he
+rode by, and they seemed to admire him no less than his own men
+did. Late in the afternoon the regiment marched out of the lines of
+Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for the night some two miles to the
+west of the town.</p>
+<p>On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up
+the Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle
+were heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was
+hot, and the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick.
+About one o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond
+the river the march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had
+fallen out before we reached the river; now many more began to
+straggle. All the while the roar of a great battle extended across
+our front, mostly in our left front. We passed through a village
+called Sharpsburg. Its streets were encumbered with wagons,
+ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all the horrid results of
+war that choke the roads in rear of an army engaged in a great
+battle.</p>
+<p>Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one
+side of a hill and down the other side. On the slope of the
+opposite hill we halted, some of the troops being protected by a
+stone fence. The noise of battle was everywhere, and increasing at
+our right, almost on our right flank. Wounded men were streaming
+by; the litter-bearers were busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as
+waiting while in expectation of being called on to restore a lost
+battle from which the wounded and dead are being carried. Our time
+was near.</p>
+<p>Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg
+dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the
+colonels and the captains. We were to advance.</p>
+<p>While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect
+the capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before
+McClellan, who had collected an immense army and had advanced. The
+North had risen at the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac
+and McClellan's army, vast as it was, yet continued to receive
+reinforcements almost daily; his army was perhaps stronger than it
+had been before his disastrous campaign of the Chickahominy, his
+troops on James River had marched down the Peninsula and had been
+taken in transports to Fredericksburg and Alexandria. Porter's and
+Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had fought under Pope in
+the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had his own army,
+Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that could be
+got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize
+Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his
+lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in
+danger of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the
+surrender at Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched
+to re&euml;nforce Longstreet. Had not time been so pressing, Hill's
+division would not have been ordered to assault the works at
+Harper's Ferry--an assault which was begun and which was made
+unnecessary by the surrender.</p>
+<p>McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the
+separation of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's
+special order outlining his movements had fallen into General
+McClellan's hands. This order was dated September 9th; it gave
+instructions to Jackson to seize Harper's Ferry, and it directed
+the movements of Longstreet. With this information, General
+McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered General Franklin
+to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of Harper's
+Perry.</p>
+<p>On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked
+D.H. Hill's division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro,
+and Franklin carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though
+both of these attacks were successful, the resistance of the
+Confederates had in each case been sufficient to gain time for
+Jackson. On the 15th Harper's Ferry surrendered, and McClellan
+continued to advance; Longstreet prepared for battle.</p>
+<p>The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army,
+the Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.</p>
+<p>At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced
+march of seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found
+itself in front of the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting
+of Burnside's corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition
+in its front, and was now advancing to seize the ford at
+Shepherdstown and cut off Lee from the Potomac.</p>
+<p>A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few
+brigades which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout
+resistance, but, too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our
+right. Into the gap we were ordered. In the edge of the corn a
+rabbit jumped up and ran along in front of the line; a few shots
+were fired at it by some excited men on our left. These shots
+seemed the signal for the Federals to show themselves; they were in
+the corn, advancing upon us while we were moving upon them. There
+were three lines of them. Our charge broke their first line; it
+fell back on the second and both ran; the third line stood. We
+advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line
+fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of
+the hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also
+in thick corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this
+next hill a Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire
+only, as the guns and men were almost entirely covered. This
+battery was perhaps four hundred yards from us, and almost directly
+in front of the left wing of the First. The corn on our slope and
+in the hollow was full of Federals running in disorder. We loaded
+and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the naked slope opposite was
+dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired, and loaded and
+fired.</p>
+<p>In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet
+glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades
+of corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was
+afraid to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had
+not thought too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the
+butt on the ground, and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could
+be seen but the bayonet. I fired at the ground below the bayonet.
+The bayonet fell.</p>
+<p>An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a
+gallant officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to
+stop. He threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run
+on as soon as his back was turned. They were right to run at this
+moment, and he was wrong in trying to form on the naked slope.
+Beyond the hilltop was the place to rally, and the men knew it, and
+the gallant officer did not. He rode from group to group of fleeing
+men as they streamed up the hill. He was a most conspicuous target.
+Many shots were fired at him, but he continued to ride and to storm
+at the men and to wave his sword. Suddenly his head went down, his
+body doubled up, and he lay stretched on the ground. The riderless
+horse galloped off a few yards, then returned to his master, bent
+his head to the prostrate man, and fell almost upon him.</p>
+<p>The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On
+our left they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the
+sound of heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to
+develop from our left until they were uncovered in our front. They
+advanced, right and left; just upon our own position the pressure
+was not yet great, but we felt that the Twelfth regiment, which
+joined us on our left, must soon yield to greatly superior numbers,
+and would carry our flank with it when it went. The fight now raged
+hotter than before. I saw Captain Parker, of Company K, near to us.
+His face was a mass of blood--his jaw broken. The regiment was so
+small that, although Company H was on its left, I saw Sam Wigg, a
+corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his face. Then the
+Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the pressure upon
+us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and, while
+driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked.
+Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in
+retiring, it caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back.
+Now the enemy moved on the First from the front and the regiment
+retired hastily through the corn, and formed easily again at the
+stone fence from which it had advanced at the beginning of the
+contest. The battle was over. The enemy came no farther, and the
+fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.</p>
+<p>All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in
+position. A few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we
+were in hourly expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the
+Federals did not advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we
+were once more in Virginia.</p>
+<p>While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the
+battle of Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been
+fortunate, it was clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely
+escaped a great disaster. I have always thought that McClellan had
+it in his power on the 18th of September to bring the war to an
+end. Lee had fought the battle with a force not exceeding forty
+thousand men, and had lost nearly a third. McClellan, on the 18th,
+was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he waited a full day,
+and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross, almost leisurely,
+the difficult river in their rear.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of
+Shepherdstown.</p>
+<p>On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll
+called us once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the
+Potomac. Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be
+seen here and there. Men said that in the night McClellan had
+thrown a force to the south side of the river, and had surprised
+and taken some of our artillery. As we drew near the river, we
+could see the smoke of cannon in action spouting from the farther
+side, and from our side came the crackling of musketry fire.</p>
+<p>The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two
+lines of three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first
+line. Orr's Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and
+advanced to the river bank. The division moved behind the
+skirmishers. The ground was open. We marched down a slope covered
+with corn in part, and reached a bare and undulating field that
+stretched to the trees bordering the river. As soon as the division
+had passed the corn, the Federal batteries north of the Potomac
+began to work upon our ranks. The first shots flew a little above
+us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping well the alignment.
+The next shots struck the ground in front of us and exploded--with
+what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our range and
+made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards, was a
+depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells
+burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched
+on at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie
+down. The sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the
+hollow; they hugged the earth thick. Shells would burst at the
+crown of the low hill ten steps in front and throw iron everywhere.
+The aim of the Federal gunners was horribly true.</p>
+<p>We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water.
+Behind us came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells
+bursting in the ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were
+coming in their turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far
+above us to strike this new and exposed line. Behind us came the
+brigade; right against Company H came the centre of a regiment. The
+red flag was marching straight. The regiment reached our hollow;
+there was no room; it flanked to the left by fours; a shell struck
+the colour-group; the flag leaped in the air and fell amongst four
+dead men. A little pause, and the flag was again alive, and the
+regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.</p>
+<p>For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The
+fight had long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal
+batteries. To rise and march out would be to lose many men
+uselessly.</p>
+<p>A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt
+my hat fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a
+great pain seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was
+hit, but how badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such
+agony that I feared to look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I
+was the tallest man in Company H, and the Captain was lying very
+near to me. I said to him that I was done for. "What!" said he,
+"again? You must break that habit, Jones." I wanted to be taken
+out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and the heat and
+the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look. Perhaps I
+lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last I
+looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great
+contusion, and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the
+regiment, for the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not
+lessened their fire, and the sun was hot, and the men were
+suffering.</p>
+<p>As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched
+back to bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food
+and, at length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a
+fearful day.</p>
+<p>In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the
+Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded
+in getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who
+attempted the crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but
+with what truth I do not know--that blue corpses floated past
+Washington.</p>
+<p>After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps
+near Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where
+water was plentiful.</p>
+<p>From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven
+days--the Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns:
+first, that of the week in front of Richmond; second, that of
+Manassas; third, that of Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The
+Confederates had been clearly victorious in the first two, and had
+succeeded in the last in withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's
+Ferry, and with the honours of a drawn battle against McClellan's
+mighty army.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2>
+<h3>FOREBODINGS</h3>
+<center>"<i>King John</i>. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.<br>
+<i>King Philip</i>. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near
+Bunker Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we
+learned of Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies
+of it were seen in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device
+of the enemy. Most of the officers and men of Company H were not
+greatly impressed by this action on the part of the Northern
+President. I have reason to know, however, that Captain Haskell
+regarded the proclamation a serious matter. One day I had heard two
+men of our company--Davis and Stokes--talking.</p>
+<p>"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.</p>
+<p>"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.</p>
+<p>"Yes; haven't you?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."</p>
+<p>"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"</p>
+<p>"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for
+Limus and Peagler."</p>
+<p>Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was
+one of Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but
+he could not write.</p>
+<p>The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain
+Haskell, and unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had
+undergone a modification that was very welcome to me; his previous
+reserve, indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a
+friendly interest, yet he was always courteous.</p>
+<p>"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course
+you do not wish me to speak to the men about you."</p>
+<p>"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters
+worse."</p>
+<p>"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"Not a word, sir."</p>
+<p>"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased
+to exist."</p>
+<p>"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the
+Fourth South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think
+nothing further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such
+a man as Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that
+regiment. We shall know in a few days."</p>
+<p>"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.</p>
+<p>"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do.
+McClellan is giving us another display of caution, sir."</p>
+<p>"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."</p>
+<p>"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be
+said for McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has
+considerable nerve, as is shown by his resistance to popular
+clamour, and even to the urgency of the Washington authorities. The
+last papers that we have got hold of show that Lincoln is
+displeased with his general's inactivity. By the way, the war now
+assumes a new aspect."</p>
+<p>"In what respect, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the
+North to compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir.
+He burns his bridges."</p>
+<p>"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth
+greater effort?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel
+more strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men,
+such as are in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe,
+after a while, that the South is at war principally to maintain
+slavery, and in slavery they feel no interest at stake. In such
+conditions the South can do no more than she is now doing. She may
+continue to hold her present strength for a year or two more, but
+to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our ability. The
+proclamation will effectually prevent any European power from
+recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to
+endure a long war."</p>
+<p>"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue
+a war of invasion?"</p>
+<p>"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than
+defence. But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a
+defensive battle. Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are
+just the reverse. The way to win this war, allow me to say, is to
+fight behind trees and rocks and hedges and earthworks: never to
+risk a man in the open except where absolutely necessary, and when
+absolute victory is sure. To husband her resources in men and means
+is the South's first duty, sir. I hope General Lee will never fight
+another offensive battle."</p>
+<p>"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank
+any line of intrenchments that we might make?"</p>
+<p>"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which
+skilful generalship would know how to seize. If no such
+opportunities came, I would have the army to fall back and dig
+again."</p>
+<p>"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to
+the last ditch," said I.</p>
+<p>"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they
+need. Of course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical
+limit. It might be said that we could not fall back and leave our
+territory, which supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy.
+But to counteract this theory we have others. Disease would tell on
+the enemy more than on ourselves. Our interior lines would be
+shortened, and we could re&euml;nforce easily. The enemy, in living
+on our country, would be exposed to our enterprises. His lines of
+communication would always be in danger. And he would attack. The
+public opinion of the North would compel attack, and we should
+defeat attacks and lose but few men."</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change
+in the conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's
+Emancipation Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an
+end to hope of aid or intervention from Europe. His hope in the
+success of the South was high, however. The North might be strong,
+but the South had the righteous cause. He was saddened by the
+thought that the war would be a long one, and that many men must
+perish.</p>
+<p>I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare
+time, from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led
+Captain Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than
+he thought.</p>
+<p>He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for
+a long war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it
+mattered little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to
+expect any discovery of my former home and friends, and the army
+seemed a refuge. What would become of me if the war should end
+suddenly? I did not feel prepared for any work; I know no business
+or trade. Even if I had one, it would be tame after Lee's
+campaigns.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXX"></a>XXX</h2>
+<h3>TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS</h3>
+<center>"What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,<br>
+The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?<br>
+The varying fortune of each separate field,<br>
+The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now
+occupied a line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at
+Bunker Hill. We heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan;
+speculation was rife as to the character of the new commander. It
+was easy to believe that the Federal army would soon give us work
+to do; its change of leaders clearly showed aggressive purpose,
+McClellan being distinguished more for caution than for disposition
+to attack.</p>
+<p>On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley.
+The march lasted many days. We passed through Winchester,
+Strasburg, Woodstock, and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap,
+and marched to Madison Court-House. From Madison we marched to
+Orange, and finally to Fredericksburg, where the army was again
+united by our arrival on December 3d. The march had been painful.
+For part of the time I had been barefoot. Many of the men were yet
+without shoes.</p>
+<p>The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the
+morning of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the
+lines, I awoke with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling
+generally. The surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and
+ordered me to the camp hospital, which consisted of two or three
+Sibley tents in the woods. I was laid on a bed of straw and covered
+with blankets.</p>
+<p>I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How
+far off the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of
+Company H came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the
+11th two of them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to
+march; the enemy was crossing the river and was expected to attack.
+These men told me afterward that when they said good-by they felt
+they were saying the long farewell; I was not expected to
+recover.</p>
+<p>On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of
+Fredericksburg roaring at the front, some two or three miles away,
+I was too ill to feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the
+morning, I was lifted into an open wagon and covered with a single
+blanket. In this condition I was jolted to a place called
+Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted out of the wagon and laid
+upon the ground. There were others near me, all lying on the
+ground. In many places the ground was white with snow; the wind cut
+like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock some men
+put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat and
+the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started.
+At twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men
+put me into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital,
+several miles out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the
+morning of the 15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has
+always been a wonder,</p>
+<p>I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the
+middle of the ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide,
+was a big stove, red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of
+people--women-nurses and stewards, and perhaps some convalescing
+patients--singing religious songs. There was a great open space
+between the red-hot stove and the people around it. I wanted to lie
+in that open space.</p>
+<p>I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor
+until I was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped.
+"You'll burn to death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon
+fell asleep.</p>
+<p>For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an
+incident occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man
+in the company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general
+affairs. The army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known
+that fact on the night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General
+Gregg had been killed. The papers that I saw gave me some of the
+details of the battle, but told me nothing of the position of the
+army, except that it was yet near Fredericksburg. I did not know
+where Company H was, and I learned afterward that nobody in Company
+H knew what had become of me.</p>
+<p>The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery
+was slow and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to
+return, I wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end
+of February I had demanded my papers and had started for the army
+yet near Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a
+station called Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine
+or ten miles. I found Company H below Fredericksburg and back from
+the river. Captain Haskell was not with the company. He had been
+ordered on some special duty to South Carolina, and returned to us
+a week later than my arrival. Many of the men--though all of
+twenty-six men could hardly be said to be many--had thought that I
+was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since the battle of
+Fredericksburg.</p>
+<p>When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness
+for so serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee
+had fought at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind
+breastworks--and had lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole
+army had been caused by a mistake of our own officers, who refused
+to allow their men to fire upon a line of Yankees until almost too
+late, believing them to be Confederates. It was through this error
+that General Gregg, for whom the camp of the army was named, had
+lost his life.</p>
+<p>Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed
+variously--some with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards
+rudely riven from the forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and
+picket duty occasionally.</p>
+<p>The remainder of the winter passed without events of great
+importance. Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from
+the Fourth South Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it
+had been reorganized as a battalion, fitted with my description or
+with either of my names. I spent much time in reading the books
+which passed from man to man in the company.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat
+more cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to
+show signs of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April
+the weather became mild. To say that I was content would be to say
+what is untrue, but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I
+knew that I had a friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired
+without reservation, and whose favours were extended to me
+freely--I mean to say personal, not official, favours. The more I
+learned of this high-minded man, the more did the whole world seem
+to me brighter and less deserving of disregard. He was a patriot.
+An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for a principle
+of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal interest
+to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle he
+was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me,
+was considered by him as a high, religious service, which he
+performed ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of
+his demeanour when leading his men in fight. His words were few at
+such times; he was the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of
+rant in action. Others would shout and scream and shriek their
+orders redundant and unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle
+English than all their distended throats. He was merciful and he
+was wise.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days'
+cooked rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a
+moment's notice.</p>
+<p>The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell
+into ranks. We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and
+formed in line of battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The
+enemy was in our front, on our side of the Rappahannock, and we
+learned that he had crossed in strong force up the river also. We
+faced the Yankees here for two days, but did not fire a shot.</p>
+<p>Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up
+the river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our
+front. The sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they
+increased in volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of
+the fight began to die away. The enemy were retiring before our
+advanced troops. Night came on, and we lay on our arms, expecting
+the day to bring battle.</p>
+<p>The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of
+Hooker's army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of
+artillery from which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the
+movement was retreat, and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so;
+but suddenly our march broke off toward the west, and the men could
+not conceal their joy over what they were now beginning to
+understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson was seen riding past
+the marching lines to the head of his column, or halted with his
+staff to see his troops hastening on.</p>
+<p>Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our
+backs were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of
+battle in our front. We moved along the road at supporting
+distance.</p>
+<p>Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the
+roar of the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous
+musketry. There was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us
+had swept on. We followed, still in column of fours upon the road,
+which was almost blocked by a battery of artillery.</p>
+<p>Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right
+was open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a
+breastwork from which the enemy had just been driven, leaving
+wounded and dead, their muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils
+yet upon the fires, blankets, knapsacks--everything.</p>
+<p>We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having
+become intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's
+division now formed the first line of battle.</p>
+<p>It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the
+distance told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again
+went forward. Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were
+halted in the thick woods.</p>
+<p>The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose
+a moon, the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full
+and in a cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two
+armies yet lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here
+and there a gun broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was
+not peace; now and then a film of cannon smoke drifted across the
+moon, which seemed to become piteous then. There was silence in the
+ranks.</p>
+<p>The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about
+nine o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about
+where Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful
+group of men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one
+whom we knew to be some high officer. Jackson had been shot
+dangerously by one of Lane's regiments--the Eighteenth North
+Carolina.</p>
+<p>General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent,
+and the line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once
+there came the noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery,
+and many batteries, and fields and woods were alive with shells and
+canister. More than forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our
+front. We lay and endured the fire. General Hill was wounded, and
+at midnight General Stuart of the cavalry took command of the
+corps. At last the cannon hushed. The terrible night passed away
+without sleep.</p>
+<p>At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under
+command of General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the
+enemy. Our brigade succeeded in getting into the works; but on our
+right the enemy's line still held, and as it curved far to the west
+it had us in flank and rear. A new attack at this moment by the
+troops on our right would have carried the line; the attack was not
+made. We were compelled to abandon the breastworks and run for the
+woods, where we formed again at once.</p>
+<p>And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an
+enfilade fire.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole
+line; the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was
+won.</p>
+<p>Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant
+officer, had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our
+rear.</p>
+<p>We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed,
+and were ready to go forward and push the Federals to the
+Rappahannock, but no orders came. General Lee had just received
+intelligence of the second battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy,
+under Sedgwick, had taken the heights above the town, and were now
+advancing against our right flank. Our division, and perhaps
+others, held the field of Chancellorsville, while troops were
+hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the 4th the
+Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the north
+bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of Hooker's
+army had recrossed the river.</p>
+<p>Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because
+of the enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his
+divisions, was not at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing
+the Federals under Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and
+thirty thousand, while Lee had less than sixty thousand men.</p>
+<p>We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days
+later we learned that the most illustrious man in the South was
+dead. No longer should we follow Stonewall Jackson.</p>
+<p>The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's
+the first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our
+General Gregg had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now
+McGowan's brigade. Our General Jackson had fallen at
+Chancellorsville, and we were now in the corps of A.P. Hill, whose
+promotion placed four brigades of our division under General
+Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks before had been
+addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division, Jackson's
+corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's brigade,
+Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk of
+letters?</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General
+Pender, a battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of
+his division. Two or three men were taken from each, company--from
+the large companies three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had
+five regiments of ten companies each, so that McGowan's battalion
+of sharp-shooters was to be composed of about a hundred and twenty
+men. General McGowan chose Captain Haskell as the commander of the
+battalion. When I heard of this appointment, I went to the Captain
+and begged to go with him. He said, "I had already chosen you,
+Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the battalion was drawn up
+for the first time, orders were read showing the organization of
+the command. There were to be three companies, each under a
+lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the First.
+Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant of
+Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second
+sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then
+it came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.</p>
+<p>After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my
+approach. "You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't
+know the other men, and I do know you."</p>
+<p>I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me,
+and started to go away.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of
+the company?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others
+and say they are good men."</p>
+<p>"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but
+you know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do
+almost all the skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four
+or five men in the battalion out of those companies. It is one
+thing, to be a good soldier in the line and another thing to be a
+good skirmisher."</p>
+<p>"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that
+anybody would prefer being in the battalion."</p>
+<p>"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence
+of mind to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like
+the battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the
+future. The men get their rations and their pay through their
+original companies, but are no longer attached to them otherwise.
+On the march and in battle they will serve as a distinct command,
+and will be exposed to many dangers that the line of battle will
+escape, though the danger, on the whole, will be lessened, I dare
+say, especially for alert men who know how to seize every
+advantage. But the most of the men have not been trained for such
+service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We must begin
+at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."</p>
+<p>"I will do my best, Captain," said I.</p>
+<p>"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some
+writing for me."</p>
+<p>That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was
+prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We
+drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill
+as skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of
+it.</p>
+<p>Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at
+Fredericksburg. Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the
+Shenandoah Valley, and onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery
+Hill. The Federals again crossed the Rappahannock, but in small
+bodies. Their army was on the Falmouth Hills beyond the river.</p>
+<p>On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our
+places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On
+either side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown
+up, and with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a
+fine shaded avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a
+Federal skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.</p>
+<p>Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in
+the low ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods,
+and broom-sedge covered the unwooded space between the opposing
+lines; rarely could a man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch
+and fired above the bank, which formed a natural breastwork. At my
+place, on the left of Company A, a large tree was growing upon the
+bank. I was standing behind this tree; a bullet struck it. The
+firing was very slow--men trying to pick a target. When the bullet
+struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise from behind a bush.
+I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed by me, and I
+saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the tree was
+struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good
+protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it
+gave me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless;
+at any rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain
+on my arm. I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between
+my arm and body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a
+scratch; the ball had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch
+below the armpit and had drawn some blood.</p>
+<p>We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had
+no losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the
+river. While going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of
+talk concerning their first day's experience in the battalion of
+sharp-shooters. They were to undergo other experiences--experiences
+which would cause them to hold their tongues.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2>
+<h3>GLOOM</h3>
+<center>"He was a man, take him all in all,<br>
+I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We
+broke camp on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper;
+Chester Gap, Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we
+forded the Potomac for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown
+at the ford by which we had advanced nine months before in our
+hurried march from Harper's Ferry to Sharpsburg. We passed once
+more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a village called
+Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our division rested
+for three days.</p>
+<p>On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small
+farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at
+cheap prices. Our Confederate money was received with less
+unwillingness than we might have expected. We got onions, cheese,
+and bread--rye-bread. Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted
+milk. Coming back toward camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine
+cows--a boy driving them home from pasture. We halted. Rhodes
+ordered the boy to milk the cows; the boy replied that he could not
+milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held the sergeant's gun, and he
+soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was talking with the
+boy.</p>
+<p>"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"About two months ago," said he.</p>
+<p>"Is he the only brother you have?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"How does he like the army?"</p>
+<p>"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but
+he couldn't."</p>
+<p>"And he doesn't like it now?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had
+to."</p>
+<p>"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the
+Yankee army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."</p>
+<p>I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes
+had intended to pay.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July
+1st found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was
+great, although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and
+unobstructed, as though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do.
+Heth's division led the corps. We descended from a range of high
+hills, having in our front an extensive region dotted over with
+farmhouses and with fertile fields interspersed with groves. The
+march continued; steadily eastward went the corps.</p>
+<p>At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in
+front. We were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right,
+deployed, and the column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving
+as skirmishers parallel with the brigade.</p>
+<p>The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the
+right and went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a
+large low plain to the south. We halted in position, occupying a
+most formidable defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the
+division, and perhaps other divisions, went by into battle, and
+left us on the hill, protecting their flank and rear.</p>
+<p>Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in
+many small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within
+range of our rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our
+rear and left. We could see the smoke of burning houses and see
+shells burst in the air, and could hear the shouts of our men as
+they advanced from one position to another, driving the enemy.</p>
+<p>A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me
+a folded paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this
+note. I fear the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking
+for orders. Be back as quickly as you can."</p>
+<p>My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet
+burning. Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and
+Confederates. In one place behind a stone fence there were many
+blue corpses. The ambulances and infirmary men were busy. In a road
+I saw side by side a Confederate and a Federal. The Confederate was
+on his back; his jacket was open; his shirt showed a great red
+splotch right on his breast. Death must have been
+instantaneous.</p>
+<p>At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much
+farther forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender
+was yet on his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said,
+without looking at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."</p>
+<p>I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw
+Lieutenant Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer
+of the regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were
+wounded. The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy
+behind a stone fence and routed them, and had pursued them through
+the streets of the town and taken many prisoners. Butler and
+Williams had gone into a house foraging, and in the cellar had
+taken a whole company commanded by a lieutenant. Other tales there
+were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone entirely through the town,
+followed by straggling men, and had reached the top of Cemetery
+Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter disorganization,
+and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him to come on;
+but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped. The flag
+of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that of
+any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General
+Reynolds, had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had
+in the early hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the
+brigade had been captured.</p>
+<p>All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to
+give. I hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost
+time. It was not yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the
+second time over the bloody field. I passed again between the
+Confederate and the Federal whom I had seen lying side by side. Our
+man was sitting in the road, and eating hardtack.</p>
+<p>When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I
+told about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating
+hardtack, Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that
+Yankee's haversack!"</p>
+<p>For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At
+ten o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He
+made me sit by him.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the
+other companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."</p>
+<p>"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.</p>
+<p>"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held
+in reserve."</p>
+<p>"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say
+that it was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must
+be observed. Of course, if your company happened to be of average
+number and either of the others was very small, I should take
+Company A instead. But it does not so happen; so the work you have
+done to-day gives Company A a rest--if rest it can be called."</p>
+<p>"But why not take the whole battalion?"</p>
+<p>"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day
+have been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee
+attacks again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one
+defensive battle."</p>
+<p>"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville
+was a great victory--and to-day's battle also."</p>
+<p>"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the
+enemy is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against
+Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have
+stopped on Sunday morning after taking the second line of
+intrenchments. General Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the
+wrong time I dare say. Should he not have pressed Hooker into the
+river before giving attention to Sedgwick<a name=
+"FNanchor8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8">[8]</a>?"</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor8">[8]</a>
+Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was
+impregnable to any attack the Confederates were then able to make.
+Hooker himself, as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to
+attack. Lee's march against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the
+right movement. See the Comte de Paris, <i>in loc</i>.
+[ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>"Then you believe in attacking," said I.</p>
+<p>"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has
+been that we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we
+refuse to trouble them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you
+say, Chancellorsville was a great victory; anything that would have
+sent Hooker's army back over the river, even without a battle,
+would have been success. But speaking from a military view, I dare
+say it was a false movement to divide our forces as we did there.
+We succeeded because our opponents allowed us to succeed. It was in
+Hooker's power on Saturday to crush either Jackson or McLaws. Yet,
+as you suggest, General Lee was compelled to take great risks; no
+matter what he should do, his position seemed well-nigh desperate,
+and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on Sunday morning,
+before the action began, if General Lee had only known the exact
+condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would in
+the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have
+assaulted Hooker's works."</p>
+<p>"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march
+against Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated.
+We had enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first
+Manassas, when Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won
+the battle by the steady conduct of a few regiments who held the
+enemy until Johnston's men came up. Of course I am not making any
+comparison between Generals Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and
+Chancellorsville are past, and observe, sir, what a loss we have
+had to-day. I dare say the enemy's loss is heavier, but he can
+stand losses here, and we cannot; another day or two like to-day,
+and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the enemy for a mile or
+so until it occupies a stronger position than before, is not--you
+will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which, the Confederacy
+began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He will
+attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot
+destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get
+any re&euml;nforcement. Indeed, Jones, I do not see how we can be
+re&euml;nforced at all--so far from our base, and the enemy so
+powerful to prevent it."</p>
+<p>"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger
+every day, while we should become weaker. The enemy would not
+attack until we should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass
+our retreat and endeavour to bring us to battle."</p>
+<p>"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"</p>
+<p>"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we
+shall be losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not
+absurd for a small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation
+in the face of more powerful armies? If we had arms which the
+Federals could not match, we should find it easy to conquer a peace
+on this field. But their equipment is superior to ours. The
+campaign is wrong. If inactivity could not have been tolerated, we
+should have re&euml;nforced General Bragg and regained our own
+country instead of running our heads against this wall up here.
+But, do you not agree with, me that inactivity would have been
+best? Hooker's army would not have stirred this summer until too
+late for any important campaign. The year would have closed with
+Virginia secure and with great recuperation to all our eastern
+states. Our army would have been swelled by the return of our
+wounded and sick, without any losses to offset our increase. As it
+is, our losses are going to be difficult if not impossible to make
+up. I fear that Lee's army will never be as strong hereafter as it
+is to-night."</p>
+<p>"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"</p>
+<p>"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that.
+Look at the victories of this war. They have been claimed by both
+aides--many of them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort
+Donelson, where has there been a great victory?"</p>
+<p>"The Chickahominy," said I.</p>
+<p>"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the
+Federals, and McClellan escaped us."</p>
+<p>"Second Manassas."</p>
+<p>"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped
+on the second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now
+on that hill."</p>
+<p>"Fredericksburg."</p>
+<p>"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been
+allowed to get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the
+effect that Jackson was strongly in favour of a night attack upon
+the Federals huddled up on our side of the river?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital.
+You know I was not in the battle."</p>
+<p>"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished
+to throw his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the
+men were to wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that
+they might recognize each other."</p>
+<p>"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"</p>
+<p>"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals
+into the river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."</p>
+<p>"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's
+army?"</p>
+<p>"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside
+to get away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too
+merciful, and that he is restrained because we are killing our own
+people. If Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee
+might have listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have
+been balanced in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been
+killing Frenchmen, I dare say he would have had more fight in him
+on the 18th of September. After all that we read in the newspapers,
+Jones, about the vandalism practised in this war, yet this war is,
+I dare say, the least inhumane that ever was waged. I don't think
+our men hate the men on the other side."</p>
+<p>"I don't," said I.</p>
+<p>"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too
+unfortunate as to opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not
+destroyed; they get away; when we gain a field, it is only the
+moral effect that remains with us. War is different from the old
+wars. The only thorough defeats are surrenders. It would take days
+for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's at long range, even if Meade
+should stand and do nothing. We may defeat Meade,--I don't see why
+we should not,--but in less than a week we should be compelled to
+fight him again, and we should be weaker and he would be stronger
+than before."</p>
+<p>"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed
+whole armies."</p>
+<p>"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In
+Caesar's wars, for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical
+strength and endurance were the qualities that prevailed. The men
+became exhausted backing away or slinging away at each other. In
+such a condition a regiment of cavalry is turned loose on a broad
+plain against a division unable to flee, and one horseman puts a
+company to death; all he has to do is to cut and thrust."</p>
+<p>"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we
+could get re&euml;nforcements," I said.</p>
+<p>"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get
+twenty."</p>
+<p>"We could retire after victory," I said.</p>
+<p>"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know
+that he is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know
+that he is quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to
+me that his reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say
+his wonderful ability as an engineer accounts for it."</p>
+<p>"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France
+recognize us?"</p>
+<p>"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that?
+Ever since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of
+European recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon
+gone."</p>
+<p>"What was it, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by
+emancipating the slaves gradually."</p>
+<p>"Was that seriously thought of?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the
+main. We do not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked
+out that there was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether
+any vote was ever had I do not know; I dare say those in favour of
+the measure found they were not strong enough, and thought best not
+to press it."</p>
+<p>"What effect would such a course have had?"</p>
+<p>"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have
+recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a
+measure. In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would
+have been laid at rest. The North would have been eager to
+conciliate the South, and it would have become possible to
+reconstruct the Union with clear definitions of the sovereignty of
+the States."</p>
+<p>"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a
+gradual emancipation."</p>
+<p>"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in
+fact, there is great justification for it. It is too universal,
+however. It does not give enough opportunity for a slave to
+develop, and to make a future for himself. Still, we have some
+grand men among the slaves. Many of them would suffer death for the
+interest of their masters' families. Then, too, we have in the
+South a type unknown in the rest of the world since feudalism: we
+have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana, reproductions of
+the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The general
+condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an
+inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small
+share in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a
+slave at home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented.
+Witness his docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children
+while his masters are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds.
+Such conduct deserves recognition. I would say that a system of
+rewards should be planned by which a worthy negro, ambitious to
+become free, could by meritorious conduct achieve his freedom. But
+this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It is good for nobody. A race
+of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of infants with the
+physical force of men. What would become of them? Suppose the North
+should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies disbanded, and the
+States back in the Union or held as territories. Has anybody the
+least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the new
+dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the
+beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and
+would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro
+offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine.
+The result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would
+be far worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies
+should indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that
+our own people should be driven out and our lands given to the
+slaves--what would become of them? We know their character. They
+look not one day ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence,
+anarchy. And the worst men of the race would hold the rest in
+terror. Immorality would be at a premium, sir. The race would lose
+what it had gained. But, on the other hand, put into practice a
+plan for gradual freedom based on good conduct; you would see
+whites and blacks living in peace. The negro would begin to
+improve, and the white people would help him. It would not be long
+before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom, not race
+freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be great
+striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected thereby
+from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so done
+we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden
+emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout
+her dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she
+pays the owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a
+mistake for the Southern colonies, for South Carolina
+especially."</p>
+<p>"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."</p>
+<p>"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts
+had. Our best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied
+to the best of the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our
+trade with the mother country was profitable, and our products were
+favoured by bounties. We had no connection, with the French and
+Indian wars which had given rise to so much trouble between Great
+Britain and New England. But our people thought it would be base to
+desert the cause of Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the
+main reason that caused South Carolina to throw in her lot with
+that of our Northern colonies. See what we get for it. We renounce
+our profitable commerce with England, and we help our sister
+colonies; just so soon as their profitable commerce with us is
+threatened by our withdrawal, they maintain it by putting us to
+death. It is their nature, sir. They live by trade. If they
+continue to increase in power, they will hold the West in
+commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever
+reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of
+trade."</p>
+<p>"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New
+England suffered very little. New York suffered; so did
+Pennsylvania and New Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South
+Carolina, which was in reality no more than a conquered province
+for years, and yet held faithful to the cause of the colonies. And
+it was the eventual success of the Southern arms that caused the
+surrender of Cornwallis. The North is very ungrateful to us."</p>
+<p>"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should
+have been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.</p>
+<p>"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would
+have been freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them.
+England and America could have controlled the world in peace; but
+here we are, diligently engaged in killing one another."</p>
+<p>"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever
+before."</p>
+<p>"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I
+have hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."</p>
+<p>"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.</p>
+<p>"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to
+retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from
+the situation,--but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be
+disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."</p>
+<p>"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and
+have losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and
+those of us who are able to march shall see Virginia again."</p>
+<p>"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded
+here?"</p>
+<p>"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this
+war is truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to
+the common soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in
+slaves, give their lives for independence--the independence of
+their States. Yet it is useless to grieve in anticipation."</p>
+<p>"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said
+I; "at least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in
+battle to death by disease."</p>
+<p>"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.</p>
+<blockquote>"'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The appointed and the unappointed day;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor thee, on the second, the Universe
+slay.'"</blockquote>
+<p>"Who is that, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."</p>
+<p>"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."</p>
+<p>"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"</p>
+<p>"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems
+not unfamiliar. Is he living?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of
+your old personal friends?"</p>
+<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back
+somewhere."</p>
+<p>"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."</p>
+<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name
+that strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."</p>
+<p>"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."</p>
+<p>"In what sense, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East
+is fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is
+inconsistent."</p>
+<p>"But you are not a fatalist."</p>
+<p>"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the
+ends that we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is
+blocked out in the large for us by powers over which we can have no
+control, but that within certain limits we do the shaping of our
+own lives."</p>
+<p>"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will
+be done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world
+does one battle, more or fewer, have?"</p>
+<p>"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the
+result is nothing; but every event is important to some life."</p>
+<p>"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over
+yonder, and that we could have occupied it but that our men were
+recalled."</p>
+<p>"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy
+would only have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging
+at this moment."</p>
+<p>Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to
+do your full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more
+we have to do, the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must
+collect all our energies, and each man must do the work of two.
+Impress the men strongly with the necessity for courage and
+endurance."</p>
+<p>The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain
+good night.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the
+brigade, which was in line a little to the south of the Seminary.
+The sun shone hot. The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery
+roared at our left and far to our right. At times shells came over
+us. A caisson near by exploded. In the afternoon a great battle was
+raging some two miles to our right. Longstreet's corps had gone
+in.</p>
+<p>At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On
+the litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men
+gathered around. Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of
+them approached the litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men
+came slowly back--one at a time--grim.</p>
+<p>I asked who it was that had been killed.</p>
+<p>"Captain Haskell," they said.</p>
+<p>My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell?
+Our Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I
+now knew that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable.
+He had passed through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to
+so many deaths that had refused to demand him, had so freely
+offered his life, had been so calm and yet so valiant in battle,
+had been so worshipped by all the left wing of the regiment and by
+the battalion, had been so wise in council and so forceful in the
+field, had, in fine, been one of those we instinctively feel are
+heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could not be! There must
+be some mistake!</p>
+<p>But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw
+Sergeant Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke
+down utterly.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXII"></a>XXXII</h2>
+<h3>NIGHT</h3>
+<center>"From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,<br>
+The hum of either army stilly sounds,<br>
+That the fixed sentinels almost receive<br>
+The secret whispers of each other's watch."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was
+ordered forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down
+the hill in front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with
+cannon and intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was
+alive with skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we
+advanced. Down our hill and into the hollow; there the fire
+increased and we lay flat on the ground. Our skirmish-line was some
+two or three hundred yards in front of us, in the wheat on the
+slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.</p>
+<p>Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the
+wheat; what for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know<a name=
+"FNanchor9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9">[9]</a>. It was Ramseur's
+brigade of Rodes's division.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor9">[9]</a>
+Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at
+the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill.
+[ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the
+left guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought
+it likely that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into
+its ranks.</p>
+<p>Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the
+wheat. We could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing
+and shouting; they charged the Federal army. What was expected of
+them? It seemed absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many
+rifles could be seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down
+the hill, helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us,
+and went back toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.</p>
+<p>It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets
+of the next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket
+in these parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had
+remained and must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.</p>
+<p>Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a
+circuit to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned
+and passed word down the line to the lieutenant in command of
+Company A that I wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I
+explained the trouble. The lieutenant did not know what to do. This
+gentleman was a valuable officer in the line, but was out of place
+in the battalion. He asked me what ought to be done. I replied that
+we must not fail to connect, else there would be a gap in the line,
+and how wide a gap nobody could tell. If I had known then what I
+know now, I should have told him to report the condition to Colonel
+Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but I did otherwise; I
+told him that if he would remain on the left, I would hunt for the
+picket-line. He consented.</p>
+<p>I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and
+searched a long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of
+Company A and proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for
+our pickets. The lieutenant approved.</p>
+<p>The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front.
+I moved slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon,
+over which bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be
+hidden I went forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and
+looked. Here and there in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns,
+and many signs of battle. The wheat had been trodden down.</p>
+<p>Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of
+the battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in
+most places untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see
+our own men. I went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right
+I saw a fence, or rather a line of bushes and briers which had
+grown up where a fence had been in years past. This fence-row
+stretched straight up the hill toward the cemetery. I went to it.
+It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the shelter of this
+friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was now in
+front of Company A's right.</p>
+<p>The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards
+in advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and
+crawled along the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant
+pausing and looking. I reached a denser and taller clump of bushes,
+and raised myself to my full height. In front were black spots in
+the wheat--five paces apart--- a picket-line--whose?</p>
+<p>The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat
+with the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back,
+lest the metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in
+front of me, and on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to
+stretch across the front of the whole battalion. If that was our
+picket, why should there be another in rear of it? They must be
+Yankees.</p>
+<p>I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The
+line was perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men
+nearer to me,--officers, or men going and returning in its
+rear,--but the line seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not
+seem tall enough for standing men. No doubt they were sitting in
+the wheat with their guns in their laps. I heard no word--not a
+sound except the noises coming from the crest of the hill beyond
+them, where was the Federal line of battle. I looked back. Seminary
+Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun, picked it up,
+rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no longer see
+the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my right in
+order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had not
+budged.</p>
+<p>I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt
+almost sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We
+ought to have sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why
+we did not, I do not know, unless it was that we felt it our duty
+to solve the difficulty ourselves. The left of the battalion was
+unprotected; this would not do. Something must be done.</p>
+<p>I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals
+to ten paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The
+left platoon extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from
+centre to left. This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap.
+Still no pickets could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left
+and returned.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the
+left until something was found. He would have filled the interval,
+even had it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps
+apart, at least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General
+Pender. Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to
+the right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent
+word to him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was
+growing. How wide was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other
+side of this gap search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a
+brigade or more might creep through the gap; still the lieutenant
+did not propose anything.</p>
+<p>At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked
+like a Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that
+I thought I could get nearer to it than I had been before, and
+speak to the men without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun
+to fear sarcasm. What if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line
+of gray pickets in our front? Should I ever hear the last of
+it?</p>
+<p>Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of
+anything. He was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had
+proposed an advance of Company A up the hill, he would have
+approved, and would have led the advance.</p>
+<p>The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the
+place where I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther.
+Again the thought came that there would have been some
+communicating between that line and ours if that were Confederate.
+If they were our men, we had been in their rear for three hours.
+Impossible to suppose that nobody in that time should have come
+back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line, and I was in its
+front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they had a man
+or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could be
+no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my
+progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not
+less black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre
+night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were,
+they felt strongly the presence of the enemy.</p>
+<p>Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a
+gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along
+which I was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed.
+There had once been a gate hanging to that post and closing against
+another post now concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would
+crawl to that post out there, and speak to the men in front. They
+would suppose that I was in the fence-row, and, if they fired,
+would shoot into the bushes, while I should be safe behind the
+post--such was my thought.</p>
+<p>I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak,
+I thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The
+black spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front.
+The line stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the
+left--through the fence-row.</p>
+<p>It was not necessary to speak very loud.</p>
+<p>I asked, "Whose picket is that?"</p>
+<p>My voice sounded strangely tremulous.</p>
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+<p>If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would
+be no sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said,
+"Come up and see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see
+that the black spots had become large objects; the moon was
+shining.</p>
+<p>I must ask again.</p>
+<p>I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead
+that day.</p>
+<p>I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>No answer.</p>
+<p>Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>Not a word.</p>
+<p>It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men?
+Certainly Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two
+or three men might rush forward and seize me before I could get to
+my feet. Yet, would not a line of our men out here be silent? They
+would be very near the enemy and would be very silent. But they
+would send a man back to make me stop talking. They were Yankees;
+but why did they not say something? or do something? Perhaps they
+were in doubt about me. I was so near their lines they could hardly
+believe me a Confederate. I half decided to slip away at once.</p>
+<p>But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy
+the lieutenant and myself also.</p>
+<p>Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that
+is?"</p>
+<p>A voice replied, "Our brigade!"</p>
+<p>This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had
+heard it frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for
+troops to pass, you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and
+some-would-be wag would say, "Our regiment."</p>
+<p>I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly.
+Before I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees
+also had this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees
+selected one man to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to
+preserve silence, and was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A
+man perhaps who knew something of the sayings in the Southern
+army?</p>
+<p>Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud,
+"What army do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word
+"you."</p>
+<p>Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out
+in front and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did
+they not bid me come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very
+likely they thought I was trying to desert, and feeling my way
+through fear of falling into the hands of the wrong people.</p>
+<p>I replied at once, "I am a rebel."</p>
+<p>What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know,
+unless it was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe,
+being in their rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at
+once accept the challenge. I wanted to end the matter.</p>
+<p>They accepted.</p>
+<p>A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen
+rifles cracked.</p>
+<p>They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but
+then, no bullet can be heard at such a nearness.</p>
+<p>I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to
+rise and run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could
+manage better. I would remain quiet until they should think I had
+gone. Then I would crawl away.</p>
+<p>Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start.
+Suddenly a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the
+fence-row. A Yankee had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary
+pitch, but very gruffly, "Who <i>are</i> you, anyhow?"</p>
+<p>If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones.
+It was my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to
+come, but the next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how
+many I was, and I stuck fast.</p>
+<p>I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back
+and reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate
+front.</p>
+<p>Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking
+back to our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had
+been warned that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from
+firing on me. They had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets
+had whistled over them, and they had thought me a prisoner, so when
+they saw a man coming toward them they were itching to shoot.</p>
+<p>We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the
+skirmish-line at the left of Pender's division.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII</h2>
+<h3>HELL</h3>
+<center>"Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;<br>
+Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,<br>
+Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as
+the sun was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced.
+Down the hill they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a
+countercharge, and the battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were
+almost intermixed with them before they ran. And now our lieutenant
+of Company A showed his mettle. He sprang before his company, sword
+in his left hand and revolver in the other, and led the fight,
+rushing right up the hill, and, when near enough, firing every
+barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both lines settled
+back to their first positions.</p>
+<p>We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the
+rear to carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four
+men lifted the stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled
+heavily to the ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot,
+leaving but two; they raised their stretcher in the air and moved
+it about violently. The Yankees ceased firing.</p>
+<p>The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly
+work ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails,
+covered with wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon
+appeared along the line. The protection was slight, yet by lying
+flat our bodies could not be seen. On their side the Yankee
+skirmishers also had worked, and were now behind low heaps of rails
+and earth. Practice-shooting began, and was kept up without
+intermission for hour after hour.</p>
+<p>We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the
+men to be sparing with water.</p>
+<p>From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the
+Seminary--could see through the cupola from one window to the
+other. The Seminary was General Lee's headquarters.</p>
+<p>To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn.
+Captain Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn.
+It was five hundred yards from the pits of Company A.</p>
+<p>The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond
+the right of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced
+from the Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn.
+They began to enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we
+were engaged in front.</p>
+<p>A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down
+the line for me to take his place at the right of the company.</p>
+<p>Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in
+Company A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.</p>
+<p>We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right
+oblique five hundred yards.</p>
+<p>We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two
+hundred yards.</p>
+<p>A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see
+him loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his
+shoulder. I took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I
+thought of the Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any
+hatred of him? And the answer came: No; I am fighting for life and
+liberty; I hate nobody. I fired, and saw the man no more.</p>
+<p>Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy
+recovered it.</p>
+<p>Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line
+of battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our
+losses were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until
+past midday, and there was no sign of an ending.</p>
+<p>At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then
+the devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the
+air was full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal
+batteries answering doubled the din and made the valley and its
+slopes a hell of hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went
+far over our heads; we were much nearer to the Federal artillery
+than to our own. Some of our shells, perhaps from defective powder,
+fell amongst us; some would burst in mid air, and the fragments
+would hurtle down. The skirmishing ceased--in an ocean one drop
+more is naught.</p>
+<p>I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with
+his hat over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were
+unrelieved. The men were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained,
+haggard, battle-worn, and stern. Still shrieked the shells
+overhead, and yet roared the guns to front and rear--a pandemonium
+of sight and sound reserved from the foundation of the world for
+the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun went out in smoke. The
+smell of burning powder filled the land. Before us and behind us
+bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of this awful
+picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its
+foreground the peaceful city of the dead.</p>
+<p>For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth
+and sky; then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness
+was but brief. Out from our rear and right now marched the
+Confederate infantry on to destruction.</p>
+<p>We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men
+stand, regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than
+eighteen hours we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope.
+We knew that our line, marching out for attack, could not even
+reach the enemy. Before it could come within charging distance it
+would be beaten to pieces by artillery. The men looked at the
+advancing line and said one to another, "Lee has made a
+mistake."</p>
+<p>The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary
+Ridge.</p>
+<p>The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the
+valley and up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front
+and right,--and far to the right,--pumping death into its
+ranks.</p>
+<p>I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words
+concerning General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military
+man; I knew nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had
+knelled the doom of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone
+fences the flower of the Army of the Potomac protected by two
+hundred guns. It was simply insane. It was not war, neither was it
+magnificent; it was too absurd to be grand.</p>
+<p>Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the
+skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the
+spot where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was
+already in tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all
+described Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line
+came on like troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too
+gallant; but there was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on
+Seminary Ridge were looking at Pickett's division from its rear;
+the blue men were looking upon it from its front; from neither
+position could the alignment be seen; to them it looked straight
+and fine; but that line passed by me so that I looked along it, and
+I know that it was swayed and bent long before it fired a shot. As
+it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty, forty, even
+fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men for
+this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry,
+but for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and
+left, a semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed
+the ground with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an
+iron tempest such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at
+Gettysburg--- a tempest in which no army on earth could live.</p>
+<p>I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came
+under the fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged,
+because the gaps could not be filled as fast as they were made; but
+the fragments kept on up the hill, uniting as they went.</p>
+<p>And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the
+sound, that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their
+battle. Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking;
+the thunder of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and
+our men--those that are left, but not the line--still go
+forward.</p>
+<p>Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right
+swarm out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his
+front still stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men
+live to pass.</p>
+<p>Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere
+have long ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch
+the struggle for the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where
+a few trees stand, smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and
+fate are working as they never worked. Lines of infantry from
+either flank move toward the whirlpool. They close upon the
+smoke.</p>
+<p>Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running
+half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the
+hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become
+prisoners.</p>
+<p>A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their
+right and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of
+Confederates advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The
+battle of Gettysburg is over.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIV"></a>XXXIV</h2>
+<h3>FALLING-WATERS</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"Prepare you, generals:<br>
+The enemy comes on in gallant show;<br>
+Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,<br>
+And something to be done immediately."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division
+leading. Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The
+slow retreat continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown
+we formed line of battle.</p>
+<p>The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers
+advanced against us. We held our own, but lost some men.</p>
+<p>The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits
+made of fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and
+ate the grain uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but
+with little success. There was great suffering from hunger.</p>
+<p>For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown,
+skirmishing every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded
+the battalion. We were told that the Potomac was at a high stage,
+and that we must wait until a pontoon bridge could be laid.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters
+received orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then
+to retire. The division was withdrawing and depended upon us to
+prevent the advance of the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet
+to the skin and almost exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and
+watching.</p>
+<p>At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone.
+We followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was
+deep; the army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten
+miles. After sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then,
+behind us. We supposed that the enemy's advance was firing on our
+stragglers as they would try to get away. The march was very
+difficult, because of the mud and mainly because of our
+exhaustion.</p>
+<p>We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile
+away. It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we
+could see a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and
+wagons--some filing slowly away to the south, others standing in
+well-ordered ranks. On some prominent hills batteries had been
+planted. It was a great sight. The sun was shining on this display.
+Lee's army had effected a crossing.</p>
+<p>On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At
+the river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with
+stacked arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to
+cross; for there was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was
+yet passing, and it would take hours for all to cross.</p>
+<p>We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men
+to decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped
+on the ground, to rest and sleep.</p>
+<p>The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all
+around me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired,
+with his gun at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men
+on horses were amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with
+pistols which they were firing. Our men were scattering, not in
+flight, but to deploy.</p>
+<p>A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He
+was standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed
+and fired. He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up
+and went headforemost to the ground.</p>
+<p>The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who
+had ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance
+squadron. More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty
+yards long, covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to
+allow the enemy to see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted
+troops at the head of the bridge. The numbers of the Federals
+constantly increased. They outflanked us on our right. They
+dismounted and deployed as skirmishers. They advanced, and the
+fighting began.</p>
+<p>Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines,
+and the berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired.
+I never saw so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over
+us and amongst us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw
+hat that I had swapped for with one of the men; where he had got
+it, I don't know. My hat was a target. I took it off.</p>
+<p>The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From
+the division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us.
+The regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy
+still increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we
+had a skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force
+ready to strengthen any weak part of the line.</p>
+<p>The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line
+was re&euml;stablished. They got around our right and a few of them
+got into our rear. One of them rode up to Peagler of Company H, an
+unarmed infirmary man; he brandished his sword and ordered Peagler
+to surrender. Peagler picked up a fence-rail and struck the rider
+from his horse.</p>
+<p>Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house,
+firing from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their
+flanks and rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the
+house, and the company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded,
+who, however, got away.</p>
+<p>General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had
+already lasted three hours and threatened to continue.</p>
+<p>At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing
+numbers of the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again,
+we could see that the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops
+were on the south side of the river. On the bridge were only a few
+straggling men running across.</p>
+<p>And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its
+crest was occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they
+began busily to pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat
+in my hand.</p>
+<p>We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to
+throw shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion
+flanked to the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong
+across, with Yankee bullets splashing the water to the right and
+left; meanwhile our batteries continued to throw shells over our
+heads, and Federal guns, now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were
+answering with spirit.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXV"></a>XXXV</h2>
+<h3>AWAKENINGS</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"'Tis
+far off;<br>
+And rather like a dream than an assurance<br>
+That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling
+Waters, the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We
+marched a mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At
+night we received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.</p>
+<p>On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out.
+Starvation and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered
+greatly, not from fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of
+ranks, went fifty yards into the thicket, and lay down under a
+tree.</p>
+<p>That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared.
+I shrank from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing
+it.</p>
+<p>My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard
+of the surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of
+demoralization had touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg;
+but now men talked despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed
+hopeless.</p>
+<p>Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had
+gone on. What interest had they in me or I in them? I had
+fever.</p>
+<p>The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the
+thicket. A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of
+fifty thousand; they have gone on.</p>
+<p>Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not
+whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My
+Captain has gone.</p>
+<p>Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.</p>
+<p>At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The
+life I live is too difficult.</p>
+<p>And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The
+Captain has not died too soon.</p>
+<p>What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him.
+I shall never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt;
+I am still enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ...
+into what? What does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying
+here? Can he put thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am?
+What does he think now of slavery? of State rights? of war?</p>
+<p>He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is
+better. He is at peace. Would I also were at peace.</p>
+<p>I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to
+the road, fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor
+Federal was in sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at
+Bunker Hill.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were
+approaching Culpeper.</p>
+<p>During the months of August and September we were in camp near
+Orange Court-House.</p>
+<p>My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I
+should have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had
+so greatly suffered because of the Captain's death.</p>
+<p>My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no
+purpose. To fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I
+had no relish for fighting. Fighting was absurd.</p>
+<p>The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he
+imagined General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great
+reluctance in giving orders that would result in the death of
+Americans at the hands of Americans. I remembered that at
+Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the trigger, I had found no
+hatred in me toward the man I was trying to kill. I wondered if the
+men generally were without hate. I believed they were; there might
+be exceptions.</p>
+<p>We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's
+division. We had camp guard and picket duty.</p>
+<p>Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had
+been dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was
+monotonous. Some conscripts were received into each company. Many
+of the old men would never return to us. Some were lying with two
+inches of earth above their breasts; some were in the distant South
+on crutches they must always use.</p>
+<p>The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious.
+Captain Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.</p>
+<p>I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I
+made an object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy.
+Where had there ever been such an experience? I thought of myself
+as Berwick, and pitied him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him
+<i>you</i>.</p>
+<p>Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had
+been promoted, and was elsewhere.</p>
+<p>At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many
+successive nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the
+"me" that I saw as a different person from the "me" that saw.</p>
+<p>My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the
+surgeon.</p>
+<p>Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long
+ago given me up for dead.</p>
+<p>Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My
+mind was filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How
+I ever began to think of such, a possibility I could not know.</p>
+<p>My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and
+powerful and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the
+strong likelihood was that it was neither, but was of medium
+worth.</p>
+<p>My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman,
+young and sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who
+was she? Was she all fancy?</p>
+<p>Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman
+except the nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in
+Richmond and elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the
+face of my dream. None seemed it's equal in sweetness and
+dignity.</p>
+<p>I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the
+men. I had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel,
+and as the lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.</p>
+<p>No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history
+of myself that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but
+one--Jerry Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was
+a great forager, and kept us both in food. The rations were almost
+regular, but the fat bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The
+other men were in good health, and ate heartily of the coarse food
+given them. Butler had bacon and meal to sell.</p>
+<p>The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did
+not exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not
+decide to say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell
+him all I knew. He would have thought me insane.</p>
+<p>I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket
+regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner
+self.</p>
+<p>At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would
+recur to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my
+original regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time
+in which to ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if
+ever I got the smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and
+there to never let it go.</p>
+<p>Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be
+gone before I could define them. They left no result but
+doubt--sometimes fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset
+me--not of this war, but war. I had a vague notion that in some
+hazy past I had listened to strong reasons against war. Were they
+from the Captain? No; he had been against war, but he had fought
+for the South with relish--they did not come from him. None the
+less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they more strongly
+impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from some one
+who not only gave precept but also lived example.</p>
+<p>Who was he? I might not hope to know.</p>
+<p>Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at
+times strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men
+were good men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said
+against them; but I felt that I was not entirely of them, that they
+had little thought beyond their personal duties, which they were
+willing always to do provided their officers clearly prescribed
+them, and their personal attachments, in which I could have no
+part. Of course there were exceptions.</p>
+<p>I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had
+a certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet
+an incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not
+mere pity. The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company
+H. A lieutenant was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate
+was our highest non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the
+company's commander. The officer in command did not, however, use
+influence upon the men to secure votes. My preference for the
+position was Louis Bellot, who had been dangerously wounded at
+Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon return to the company. I
+took up his cause, and, without his knowledge, secured enough votes
+to elect him.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a
+miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was
+failing. Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts
+of this war. It was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason
+told me that the invaders should be driven back. The South had not
+been guilty of plunging the two countries into war; the South had
+tried to avert war. The only serious question which my mind could
+raise upon the conduct of the South was: Had we sufficiently tried
+to avert war? Had we done all that we could? I did not know, and I
+doubted.</p>
+<p>As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon
+marching on to battle, and I thought of all this immense
+preparation for wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with
+horror in my heart. Why could not this war have been avoided? I did
+not know, but I felt that an overwhelming responsibility attached
+somewhere, for it was not likely that all possibilities of peace
+had been exhausted by our people.</p>
+<p>As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes
+and their responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with
+them; but I was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine,
+and upon me also weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust
+upon our side.</p>
+<p>The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me
+the cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong.
+I looked in the faces of the officers and men around me and read
+patient endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at
+myself and said, Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious;
+go to the doctor and get well of your fancies.</p>
+<p>Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the
+Federal soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of
+men are they? They must believe they are right. And one side or the
+other must be wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are
+millions. Millions of men are joined together to perpetrate wrong
+while believing that they are right? Can such a condition be?</p>
+<p>Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other
+men in whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of
+either side impure?</p>
+<p>No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may
+differ conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.</p>
+<p>Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is
+wrong in warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for?
+For union and for abolition of slavery; but primarily for
+union.</p>
+<p>And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.</p>
+<p>What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for
+slavery; but principally for State rights.</p>
+<p>And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily
+wrong.</p>
+<p>Then, may both North, and South be right?</p>
+<p>The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where?
+Not in the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had
+to confess failure. The result of my thought was only the
+suggestion that both of two seemingly opposite thoughts might
+possibly be true.</p>
+<p>On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a
+city, where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and
+at whose house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon
+my mind that when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the
+9th, while we were crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march
+through Madison Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of
+the face of my dream. I thought of little else. Food was repugnant.
+I had fever, and was full of fancies. I was surprised by the
+thought that I had twice already been ill in the army. Once was at
+the time of the battle of Fredericksburg; but when and where was
+the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I had been sick in
+the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and before I
+ever saw Dr. Frost.</p>
+<p>Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result.
+Suddenly I connected the face of my dream with my forgotten
+illness. But that was all. My old tutor was a doctor and had
+attended me. I felt sure of so much.</p>
+<p>Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name.
+Some name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr.
+Some-one I had no doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the
+face of my dream, but it would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr.
+Frost had never been my teacher.</p>
+<p>We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north
+of Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not
+unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near
+by, the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect
+of this farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when
+alone I hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous
+march around Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the
+Shenandoah Valley after Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our
+retreat from Pennsylvania.</p>
+<p>What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in
+the camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as
+yet uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We
+might be advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to
+Meade's rear, just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two;
+another day might show. The most of the men believed that we were
+on a flank march similar to Jackson's, and some of them went so far
+as to say that both Ewell's and Hills corps were now near Madison
+Court-House.</p>
+<p>I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was
+upon myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me,
+but lay apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is
+true, reverted to the situation of the army, but only for a moment.
+Something was about to be done; but if I could have controlled
+events, I would not have known what to choose. One thing, however,
+began to loom clear through the dim future: if we were working to
+get to Meade's rear, that general was in far greater danger than he
+had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at Manassas Junction, between
+Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac would yield from
+starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there was no army
+to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.</p>
+<p>The night brought no movement.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXVI"></a>XXXVI</h2>
+<h3>THE ALPHABET</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"I stoop not to despair;<br>
+For I have battled with mine agony,<br>
+And made me wings wherewith to overfly<br>
+The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I
+recognized the place; I had straggled through it on the road to
+Gettysburg. Again we went into bivouac early.</p>
+<p>That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to
+any clew I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I
+wondered how I could make a step toward an end.</p>
+<p>To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said
+will was required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of
+thinking all names that I could recall. My list was limited.
+Naturally my mind went over the roll of Company H, which, from
+having heard so often, I knew by heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so
+on; the work brought an idea. I remembered hearing some one say
+that a forgotten name might be recovered with the systematic use of
+the alphabet. I wondered why I had not thought at once of this. I
+felt a great sense of relief. I now had a purpose and a plan.</p>
+<p>At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could
+get was Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built
+upon the letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might
+be one of these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to
+rely upon except the hope that the real name, when found, would
+kindle at its touch a spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were
+exhausted--nothing.</p>
+<p>Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in
+nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether
+the sound awoke any response in my brain.</p>
+<p>I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I
+stored it up for future examination.</p>
+<p>Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I
+separated into two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and
+hard. This examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of
+hard C.</p>
+<p>H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.</p>
+<p>The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.</p>
+<p>L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.</p>
+<p>At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve,
+but not to give it equal rank with the others.</p>
+<p>Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u,
+and rejected all.</p>
+<p>The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.</p>
+<p>In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C
+hard, G hard, and K, with P a possibility.</p>
+<p>It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active,
+though I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it
+had been for days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on
+track of discovery. It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to
+get where I was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would
+likely take me hours more to advance a single step farther.</p>
+<p>A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very
+unusual name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen
+written, except as the name of this Doctor? This thought included
+other thoughts--one was the idea of a written name. I had been
+following but one line of approach, while there were two,--sound
+and form. I had not considered the written approach, but now I saw
+the importance of that process. Another thought was, whether it
+would help me for the name to be not merely unusual, but entirely
+unknown. I could not decide this question. I saw reasons for and
+against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except as applied to
+the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to roll
+names and names through my brain for years without result, if my
+brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an
+old man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted
+another, wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in
+hunting a word impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and
+put it to sleep. The uncommon name would cause me to reject all
+common names, perhaps at first presentation; my attention would be
+concentrated on peculiar sounds and forms. If my mind were now in
+condition to respond to the name, I might get it very soon.</p>
+<p>In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my
+objective, for I sank to sleep.</p>
+<p>At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the
+night's work. I wrote as follows:--</p>
+<p>C G K.... P</p>
+<p>Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that
+impressed me. I had C without any following.</p>
+<p>For G, I had <i>Gayle</i>, or <i>Gail</i>.</p>
+<p>For K, <i>Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight</i>.</p>
+<p>For P, only <i>Payne</i>.</p>
+<p>We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them
+without looking at what I had written.</p>
+<p>All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare
+initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.</p>
+<p>Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What
+was its peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would
+leave it. It did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted
+to it simply because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed
+up large in my mind and took enormous precedence.</p>
+<p>The name Payne was given up.</p>
+<p>But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to
+Payne. If K was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took
+me an hour to find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined
+to find it. It was simple, after all--the attraction lay in the
+letters a-y-n-e. At once I added to my K's the name Kayne, although
+the name evoked no interest. Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane
+was much easier and added it to my list, wondering why I had not
+thought of it before.</p>
+<p>The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight?
+The peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not
+drop the name, but tried to sound each of my others as two
+syllables.</p>
+<p>"What's that you say, Jones?"</p>
+<p>It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.</p>
+<p>I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me,
+Ka-mes, Kay-me."</p>
+<p>The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through
+woods or fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground,
+but saw it not. My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds
+through my ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants
+and one or two vowels.</p>
+<p>Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain
+Haskell's quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's
+name? I soon had it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam
+and Kiyam to my list. We marched on.</p>
+<p>Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h.
+I felt greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which
+had the K sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more
+in Knight? Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and
+the vowel I had also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way
+toward Ki, or toward K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.</p>
+<p>Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le,
+Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me,
+involuntarily holding to the unfamiliar sound.</p>
+<p>For a long time I worked without any result, and I became
+greatly puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I
+repeated over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor
+Ka-mes, Doctor Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes,
+Doctor Ki-yam." The last name sounded nearly right.</p>
+<p>The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face
+with bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words
+again, and at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit
+the face to the name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor
+Ka-me, they do not fit; Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less
+Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<p>The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they
+dominated all other words. The strangeness of the name did not
+affect me; in fact, the name was neither strange nor familiar; and
+just because the name did not sound strange, I took courage and
+hope. I reasoned that such a name ought to sound strange, and that
+it did not was cheering. I was on the brink of something, I knew
+not what.</p>
+<p>We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps
+marched by on a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that
+we were ordered to bivouac.</p>
+<p>My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so
+great importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered
+that this one name was the clew to my past life, and was the
+beginning of my future life; the recovery of one name would mean
+all recovery; I had resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this
+name, and I felt convinced that I should find it, and soon. What
+was to result I would risk; months before, I had not had the
+courage to wish to know my past, but now I would welcome change. I
+was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life; I would hazard the
+venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former condition should prove
+unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance to escape it--by
+being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be much worse
+than my present state.</p>
+<p>That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown
+forward a mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but
+one opinion among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army
+was flanking Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had
+been sent to Georgia with his corps. But why were we making such
+short marches? Several reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said
+we were getting as near as possible first, "taking a running
+start," to use his words. Youmans thought that General Lee wanted
+to save the army from straggling before the day of battle. Mackay
+thought Ewell would make the long march, and that we must wait on
+his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as Ewell had
+marched to our right.</p>
+<p>Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around
+Meade. We were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of
+it, from which Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun,
+while Meade now occupied Pope's former position. Could General Lee
+hope that Meade, with Pope's example staring him in the face, would
+allow himself to be entrapped? This question was discussed by the
+men.</p>
+<p>Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley
+last June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing
+Meade would recall.</p>
+<p>Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far
+advanced for Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson
+thought that General Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try
+to effect the very thing he had once succeeded in; besides, he
+said, every general must provide against every contingency, but it
+is clearly impossible to do so, and in neglecting some things for
+others, he runs his risks and takes his chances. Meade would not
+retreat until he knew that the flank movement was in progress; to
+retreat in fear of having to retreat would be nonsense; and if
+Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all up with
+him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his tactics
+and follow the retreat.</p>
+<p>On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North
+Fork of the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at
+least in our front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we
+overlooked the river, and every man was a vedette, as it were. I
+lay in the line, trying to take the first step leading to the
+reconstruction of my life.</p>
+<p>"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<p>The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been
+abandoned, I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker
+power to hold me had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was
+imperfect. It did not seem wrong, but deficient rather; something
+was needed to complete it--what was that something?</p>
+<p>Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I
+wondered why. I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam
+was a poet? No; that could be no reason. Was it because he was a
+Persian? I could see no connection there. Was it because of the
+peculiar spelling of the name? It might be. What was the
+peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must think again of the
+written or printed name, not the sound only of the word.</p>
+<p>Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.</p>
+<p>I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought
+"Khay-me."</p>
+<p>By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and
+simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my
+brain. It would not do.</p>
+<p>Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not
+discouraged. I thought of no other name. Everything else had been
+definitely abandoned. Without reasoning upon it I knew that the
+name was right, and I knew, as if by intuition, how to proceed to a
+conclusion. I tried again, and knew beforehand that I should
+succeed.</p>
+<p>This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I
+did three things.</p>
+<p>There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top
+of the hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote
+"Doctor Khayme." I held the words before my eyes; I called the face
+of my dream before me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>XXXVII</h2>
+<h3>A DOUBLE</h3>
+<center>"One of these men is genius to the other;<br>
+And so of these: which is the natural man,<br>
+And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his
+daughter. I know her name--Lydia.</p>
+<p>Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of
+sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face
+of my fancy, but for the look of care.</p>
+<p>Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on
+the bank of the river.</p>
+<p>For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath.
+Now I felt that I must move or die.</p>
+<p>I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar
+physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned
+on my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my
+chin resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing
+nothing.</p>
+<p>Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of
+paradise.</p>
+<p>The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare
+hill; a shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands
+violently, and fell. The picture vanished.</p>
+<p>Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had
+fallen--was making his painful way alone in the night; he went on
+and on until he was swallowed by the darkness.</p>
+<p>Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in
+blue uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither
+officer nor man; both were in blue.</p>
+<p>Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I
+saw him standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him
+sick in a tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.</p>
+<p>Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue
+helping another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide
+themselves in a secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is
+the place I saw at Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man
+breaks his gun. The two go away.</p>
+<p>So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had
+belonged to this man.</p>
+<p>Who was this man?</p>
+<p>A soldier, evidently.</p>
+<p>What was his name?</p>
+<p>I did not know.</p>
+<p>Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?</p>
+<p>He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate
+spy.</p>
+<p>My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should
+recover the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would
+be the key to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be
+suddenly complete and continuous, but now I found the Doctor
+supplanted by a strange man whose name even I did not know, and who
+acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming to be a Confederate and at
+other times a Federal. I must exert my will and get rid of this
+man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have eaten nothing;
+I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever. I will
+get rid of him.</p>
+<p>I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an
+ambulance, but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the
+picture, and tried again.</p>
+<p>Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden
+in a straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.</p>
+<p>Who is Willis?</p>
+<p>I do not know; only Willis.</p>
+<p>It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the
+Doctor without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's
+face flits by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.</p>
+<p>I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain
+an instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man
+persisted, and contrary to my will.</p>
+<p>My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there
+no Dr. Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face
+was again before me. That look of care--or worse than care,
+anxiety--could it be mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my
+fancy, but the look was its own. I recognized the face, but the
+expression was not due to my thought or to my error; it was
+independent of me.</p>
+<p>I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the
+Man! Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who
+sometimes wore blue and sometimes gray.</p>
+<p>Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was
+nothing in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of
+the moon at Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of
+my Captain, lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the
+enemy. My brain was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I
+doubted all reality. My fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves
+were all unstrung. I felt upon the boundary edge of heaven and
+hell. I knew enough to craze me should I learn no more. I watched
+the moon; it took the form of Lydia's face; a tree became the
+strange Man who would not forsake me.</p>
+<p>Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was
+mysterious. His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The
+others are real. I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and
+her name. I know Willis and his name. The Man's face and name are
+unknown; yet does he come unbidden and uppermost and always.</p>
+<p>I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
+retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
+Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
+Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
+Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
+Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a
+new thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at
+Gaines's Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.</p>
+<p>But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
+Manassas.</p>
+<p>But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first
+Manassas.</p>
+<p>Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped
+Willis. Why should he help Willis?</p>
+<p>Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
+soldier?</p>
+<p>I know his face and I know his name.</p>
+<p>I must hunt this thought down.</p>
+<p>Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
+experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and
+his companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.</p>
+<p>But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from
+the spot? He was not captured.</p>
+<p>Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these
+two men. I must try to remember whether I saw what became of
+them.</p>
+<p>Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange
+man; he binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there!
+again a thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that
+before--with the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I
+could see that Willis was a sergeant; but how could I know that his
+name was Willis? Possibly I heard the strange man call him
+Jake--So! again it comes. I have the full name.</p>
+<p>But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to
+rise, and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch,
+and helps him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis
+drops the gun, for it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless.
+Then the strange man breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them
+moving slowly through the woods--but strange! they are no farther
+from me than before. I must have really followed them that day.
+They go on and get into the creek, and climb with difficulty the
+farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they reach a stubble
+field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels by one of
+the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down; then he
+speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he tells
+Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
+does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
+himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
+you, Jones."</p>
+<p>And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.</p>
+<p>I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I
+must not now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.</p>
+<p>Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained
+by Jones, and I go with Jones even though I want to see what
+becomes of Willis.</p>
+<p>It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I
+feel that he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear
+sounds of rattling harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops
+and looks at the wagon; I see a man get out of the wagon--a very
+small man; the man says, "Is that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who
+this man is, and though I wonder I yet know that he is Dr. Khayme.
+Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor calls for brandy. Then the
+Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in my head and all
+vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of the
+Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.</p>
+<p>It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I
+could not doubt it.</p>
+<p>The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my
+place near the right of Company H.</p>
+<p>What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground,
+and that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after
+that?</p>
+<p>My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him
+and failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see
+him, and failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer
+in regard to Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones
+and in regard to myself also. I had got to the end of that
+experience, for I had no doubt that it was an experience of my own
+in some incomprehensible connection with Jones.</p>
+<p>Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see
+Jones and Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man
+also. Who is he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an
+ambulance, and all go away into darkness.</p>
+<p>My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had
+not abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither?
+Both? If both, which followed the other? I did not know.</p>
+<p>I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I
+fail. I had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure;
+I try again, and fail.</p>
+<p>Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot
+remember Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.</p>
+<p>Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the
+corporal in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only
+Jones I can recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different
+Jones; who was he? I must try to get him.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the
+Doctor in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting
+ready for what? A package has been made. They are talking. The
+lights are put out and I lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones.
+In the dim light of the stars he comes out of the tent; a man on a
+horse is near; he holds another horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts,
+and the two ride away. And I hear Jones ask, "What is your name?"
+and I hear the man reply, "Jones."</p>
+<p>What folly!</p>
+<p>But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then
+another picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in
+the night: Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate
+horse as black as jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men,
+and the other Jones is there, too, and I see that he is joyful that
+Jones is caught. What utter folly! Is everybody to be named Jones?
+I have followed one Jones and have found two--possibly three. Who
+is the true Jones? Is there any true Jones? Has my fevered brain
+but conjured up a picture, or series of pictures, of events that
+never had existence? Why should one Jones be glad that another
+Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.</p>
+<p>Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had
+resulted in an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I
+gave myself up to mere revery.</p>
+<p>Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was
+also an end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr.
+Khayme, and of Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with
+possibly another Jones; with these names I ought to work out the
+whole enigma. I knew that Jones was the man who had broken his gun;
+the man who had helped Willis; the man who had been under the
+bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another thought,--the man who
+had been wounded there.</p>
+<p>I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more
+relations found would untangle everything. But how to find more? I
+must think. Yet thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could
+quit thinking, the thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit
+thinking? I remembered that I had received lessons upon the power
+of the will from Captain Haskell and ... from ... somebody ...
+who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.</p>
+<p>And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any,
+could there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused
+way I groped in the tangle of this question until I became
+completely lost again, having gained, however, the knowledge that
+Dr. Khayme had taught me concerning the will.</p>
+<p>I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the
+effort was vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the
+Doctor's dark face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a
+pipe--yes, a pipe, with its carven bowl showing a strange head; and
+I could recall more easily the Captain's long jaw, and triangle of
+a face, and even the slight lisp with which he spoke. What
+relationship had these two men? If Captain Haskell had ever known
+Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of the Doctor? I had
+known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where had I known
+the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my teacher.
+Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor
+associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and
+with Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an
+ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.</p>
+<p>Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate
+hospital.</p>
+<p>The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and
+the Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a
+possibility? My brain became clearer. My people must be in
+Charleston. The Captain may have known the Doctor in Charleston.
+They may have been friends. They talked of similar subjects--at
+least, they had views which affected me similarly. Yet that might
+mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.</p>
+<p>Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant
+these two men seemed to me to be at once identical and
+separate--even opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I
+remembered that the Captain once had said he was not sure that
+there was such a condition as absolute individuality. Preposterous
+or not, the thought, gone at once, had brought another in its
+train: I had never seen these two men together, and I had never
+seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the Doctor was, there was
+Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering notion of double
+and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was seemingly a
+Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he was a
+Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas
+had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun
+rather than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had
+helped a wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been
+part of a very deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully
+that he would be received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather
+to act in entire conformity with his supposed character. He must
+always act the complete Federal when with federals, so that no
+suspicion should attach to him. No doubt he had remained in the
+Federal camp until he had got the information needed, and had
+returned to the Confederates before he had been wounded by the
+shell.</p>
+<p>So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every
+effort I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That
+Jones was a Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd
+notion of a double had drawn me away from the right track; he was a
+double, it is true, but only on the surface; he was a Confederate
+acting the Federal.</p>
+<p>Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary
+about him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his
+capacity to interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he
+changes clothing. No, not his only one; he has another: he is
+absolutely ubiquitous.</p>
+<p>That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear?
+Just because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is
+clear. My head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may
+be delusion. Dr. Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but
+as to this Jones, or these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief.
+Jones remains. Wherever I turn I find him. He will not down. If he
+is a fact, he must be the most important person related to my life.
+More so than Lydia?</p>
+<p>What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none
+the less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all,
+that my name is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought
+shows me that this supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones,
+and the spy was my brother, I should have heard of him long
+ago.</p>
+<p>Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself?
+The Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and
+I had never heard of one of them.</p>
+<p>But if he had been my brother, <i>he</i> would have hunted
+<i>me</i>, and would have found me! That was it.</p>
+<p>This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been
+killed!</p>
+<p>He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ...
+that is why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him
+since. Why had I at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I
+see that I assumed too much--or too little. I had seen him under
+the fire, and had seen him no more; that was all.</p>
+<p>Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been
+killed.</p>
+<p>It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of
+events, does not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the
+ground again, just as the events succeeded, from antecedent to
+consequent, rather than backward. It is more difficult--leaving
+memory aside--to take present conditions and discover the unknown
+which evolved these conditions, than to take present conditions and
+show what will be evolved from them. Of course, if we already know
+what preceded these conditions, there is no discovery to be
+claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our knowledge of
+the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere
+development naturally augured from the present. An incapable
+general means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable
+general.</p>
+<p>Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill
+where I had seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had
+only proved the truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a
+considerable distance, and from the past had followed Jones forward
+as well as my imperfect powers permitted; again I had jumped back
+and had followed him until he met the Doctor in the night. The
+episode of lifting Willis into the ambulance seemed a separate
+event of very short duration. My mind had unconsciously appreciated
+the difficulty of working backward, and had in reality endeavoured
+to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing Jones into
+several periods and following the events of each period in order of
+time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it,
+became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to
+suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural
+process.</p>
+<p>First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in
+blue, helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him
+when he reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor
+come to Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third,
+Jones--alone and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell
+bursting over him, and I lose him.</p>
+<p>I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred,
+and none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been
+lost to me, if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I
+wanted to find connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the
+Jones at the secret place in the woods with the Jones that I had
+seen fall, and I set my memory to work, but obtained nothing. The
+scene on the hill seemed unrelated to that of Willis.</p>
+<p>There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a
+forest at night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make
+nothing out of it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred
+before the time of Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of
+Jonas in a tent, and of an officer in blue showing him a map, and I
+could also remember that I had seen or heard that Jones had been on
+a shore with the Doctor and Lydia. These events had no connection.
+Between Jones in blue and Jones in gray there were gaps which I
+could not cross.</p>
+<p>Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events
+with the more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the
+past, hunting for the slightest clews.</p>
+<p>And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim
+past, that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the
+Doctor attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I
+strained my head to recall this scene more clearly. In this case
+Jones had no uniform; neither did the others wear uniform. And now
+a new doubt--why in a tent and without uniform?</p>
+<p>For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that
+the Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so
+early a period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or
+felt that Doctor Khayme's relationship with me was so near that,
+had he been a Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long
+since.</p>
+<p>Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought
+which followed.</p>
+<p>But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I
+could not have told, but I knew it.</p>
+<p>Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like
+intuition in my knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not
+be wounded rather than sick? How could I know that this scene in
+the tent was not the sequence of the scene of the bursting shell?
+But I say that I knew Jones was sick, and not wounded. How could I
+know this?</p>
+<p>And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I
+knew that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.</p>
+<p>I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I
+reached the conclusion that only one of these events was an
+instance of knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that
+Jones was in gray in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had
+<i>he</i> told me so? I knew that he had been sick. Had he told me
+so? In any case, I knew these things and knew that my knowledge was
+simple. But how could I know that Jones was now alive?</p>
+<p>Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make
+was, that I felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to
+myself for this knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than
+intuition. I felt that it was experience, not the experience of
+sight or hearing or any of the senses, but experience
+nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to call it so in these
+days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was none the less
+valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did not doubt.
+There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is alive,
+seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor
+touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will
+he have the life of expression and intelligence in his face.
+Communication between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or
+direction. But I saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature;
+the change of feature is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of
+the world affects every individual mind ... where did I hear such
+an idea advanced? From whom? Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.</p>
+<p>I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many
+pages, of the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.</p>
+<p>I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ...
+why, then, was he in the army?</p>
+<p>Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as
+a surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the
+tent itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore
+no uniform.</p>
+<p>But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a
+surgeon? And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance
+made the army almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers,
+assisted by the Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon,
+although he wears no uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on
+occasions; when at work at his calling he puts it off.</p>
+<p>I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything
+anew--in a new light.</p>
+<p>I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not
+found me? Again comes that thought of double personality, and this
+time it will not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's
+utterances upon the universal mind, and upon the power of the will.
+I can remember that I had almost feared him ... and suddenly I
+remember that Willis had said that the Doctor could read the mind
+... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?</p>
+<p>My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march
+had come, I could not have moved.</p>
+<p>What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had
+simply remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could
+tell what another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had
+spoken the words to ME!</p>
+<p>Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he
+had my mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be?
+But I remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to
+mind extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a
+double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with
+mind is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am
+Jones. No wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder
+that I knew he wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was
+not dead.</p>
+<p>Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I
+am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXVIII"></a>XXXVIII</h2>
+<h3>IDENTITY</h3>
+<center>"Which, is the side that I must go withal?<br>
+I am with both: each army hath a hand;<br>
+And, in their rage, I having hold of both,<br>
+They whirl asunder, and dismember me."<br>
+<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of
+blue soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the
+rout. How vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them
+then--of Dr. Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to
+desert even, in order to accomplish his designs.</p>
+<p>Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a
+mist. But what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only
+pretended to desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember
+what Jones Berwick felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he
+found pretended desertion necessary?</p>
+<p>Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter
+he could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now
+knew that I was once in that army.</p>
+<p>But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?</p>
+<p>Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I
+could not have easily gone North to enlist.</p>
+<p>But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier,
+so that there would have been no need of desertion?</p>
+<p>No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been
+asked my regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment.
+I remember the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when
+Berwick Jones joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside
+the Confederate uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in
+civilian's clothing, merely because I could not bear to have
+questions asked. So, when I had played the Federal, if I had
+presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not have answered
+questions, and the requirement to report to my company would have
+destroyed my whole plan.</p>
+<p>Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining
+civilian's clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended
+recruit, just as I had joined Company H later. This was less
+unlikely when coupled with the thought that possibly my first
+experience in this course had had some hidden influence on my
+second.</p>
+<p>But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a
+Confederate? The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of
+forgetting must be the reason. When, as Jones Berwick the
+Confederate, I became Berwick Jones the Federal, there must have
+come upon my mind a phase of oblivion similar to that which clouded
+it when I became a Confederate again.</p>
+<p>Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice
+just at the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and
+profound.... What was Dr. Khayme in all this?</p>
+<p>And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I
+had carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must
+always have been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever
+get to be Berwick Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which
+was I at first? Had I ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt
+everything.</p>
+<p>My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first
+Manassas, or Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the
+Doctor; the return to Willis; the shore and the battle of the
+ships; the <i>Merrimac</i>; the line of the Warwick; the lines at
+Hanover; the night tramp in the swamp; crossing the hill; a blank,
+which my double memory knew how to fill, and the subsequent events
+of my second service in our army. Nothing important seemed lacking
+since the battle of Bull Run. Before that battle everything was
+confusion. My home was still unknown. The friends of my former
+life, so far as I could remember, had been Federals, if Dr. Khayme
+and Lydia could be called Federals.</p>
+<p>Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with
+that city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled:
+first, my life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my
+life at home and in the Confederate army before I pretended to
+desert to the Federals.</p>
+<p>I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity!
+Let reason work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can
+it mean any more than that you were known at one time as Jones
+Berwick and at another time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to
+think that you are two persons at once. Have you imagined that now,
+while you are a Confederate again, there is also a you in the
+Yankee army? When your connection with the Confederates was
+interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones Berwick; the
+J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you became a
+Confederate again, your name was reversed because of that
+diary!</p>
+<p>I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every
+word of the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.</p>
+<p>And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the
+little book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case
+I should be taken? Yes.</p>
+<p>But--I was going to become a Confederate again!</p>
+<p>Did the Doctor know that?</p>
+<p>Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the
+words he dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes;
+he helped me on with the Confederate uniform!</p>
+<p>Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was
+required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a
+Confederate?</p>
+<p>Could I not at once have named my original company and its
+officers? Why this child's play of the diary?</p>
+<p>I studied hard this phase of the tangle.</p>
+<p>Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the
+first party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable.
+I might have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and
+to detention--but for something on my person to give substance to
+my statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.</p>
+<p>But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say
+to a party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and
+especially at the thought which had caused it. I had actually
+forgotten, for the moment, that I was a real Confederate, and had
+begun to imagine that I had been a Federal trying to get into the
+Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor was helping to do so.</p>
+<p>But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a
+Confederate. If so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp?
+He, too, a spy? He and I were allies? Possibly.</p>
+<p>But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not
+think me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me
+to play the spy in the interest of the Federals.</p>
+<p>What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in
+the Union army.</p>
+<p>But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he
+would not fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God!
+what was it that he argued? And what in me was he arguing against?
+He had contended--I remember it--that the war would destroy
+slavery, and that was what he wanted to be done; and I had
+contended that the Union was pledged by the Constitution to protect
+slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation of the Union.</p>
+<p>A cold shudder came through me.</p>
+<p>In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my
+plan. I had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought
+gave little pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought
+him too wise to allow himself to be deceived.</p>
+<p>Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a
+course which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I
+became bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a
+tangle. I have not got to the bottom of this thing.</p>
+<p>Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a
+Confederate and my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy
+that I have deceived him with all his wisdom and all my reluctance
+to deceive him. Which of these two things is true?</p>
+<p>Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in
+some way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only
+that it was the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's
+army. I remember now the Doctor's telling me about movements that
+McClellan would make. These things happened in McClellan's army
+while I was a spy. To suppose that the Doctor was my ally comports
+with his giving me information of McClellan's movements. He was a
+surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate; he certainly was from
+Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But, on the other
+hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery, and his
+hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he could
+not have been a Confederate.</p>
+<p>Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I
+was in McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew
+that I was a spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy.
+How, then, could I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought
+me a Union spy, and that I was to go into the Confederate lines to
+get information, when the opposite was true.</p>
+<p>Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The
+Doctor was not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know
+that I was a Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.</p>
+<p>Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the
+second must be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that
+even Dr. Khayme had been deceived.</p>
+<p>Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my
+business was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I
+was open and frank. The second proposition, while possible, I
+reject, at least for a time.</p>
+<p>Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true?
+How absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is
+nothing false absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a
+question thoroughly, be not content with looking at two sides of
+it; look at three."</p>
+<p>Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a
+third alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a
+Confederate, is untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is
+untrue: what is a possible third?</p>
+<p>I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put
+myself in the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery
+notions and his invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he
+thinks, into the Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?</p>
+<p>Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show
+but that he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not
+do. Where is the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find
+it.</p>
+<p>What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I
+was a Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was
+opposed to war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in
+regard to the success of the Federals? No; he wished for the
+extinction of slavery. Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but
+he argued for a modification of slavery, and for gradual
+emancipation.</p>
+<p>Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would
+do violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for
+me to go back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or
+fewer does not count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of
+doing me good, knowing that he was doing the Union cause no
+harm.</p>
+<p>But would he not know that the information I should take to the
+Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously
+injuring his cause.</p>
+<p>Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that
+could not be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for
+me was too sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither
+would I have yielded.</p>
+<p>And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these
+suppositions. For the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and
+at the same time help me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on
+his part. I am forced to admit that he knew my true character and
+that I knew he knew me.</p>
+<p>But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!</p>
+<p>An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair,
+as he attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That
+look of relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that
+look of astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment
+preceding death, he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a
+Confederate!</p>
+<p>Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the
+Doctor have known me as such?</p>
+<p>Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than
+Willis ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides,
+I feel that Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know
+that Willis did not know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped
+me return to the Confederates.</p>
+<p>... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p>
+<p>But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a
+rebel, he had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why?
+Why?</p>
+<p>I fear for my reason....</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try
+another line. So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates
+the information gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not.
+My wound had caused me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to
+read the future? If he had such power, his course in regard to me
+could be understood. He knew that I should become unable to reveal
+anything to injure his cause, therefore he was willing to help me
+return to the Confederate army. There, at last, was a third
+alternative, but a bare possibility only. Was it even that?</p>
+<p>To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight,
+knew what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could
+read the future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could
+control the future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What
+are the limits? Had not the Doctor spoken to me of this very
+subject? He had reasoned against there being limits to the power of
+the mind ... notwithstanding my resistance to the thought I still
+think it; I am still thinking of the possibility that the Doctor
+controlled me, and caused me to lose the past in order that thus he
+might not be accessory to a betrayal of his own cause.</p>
+<p>This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how
+can I place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if
+there is a man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr.
+Khayme.</p>
+<p>But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing
+for me to suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I
+should endure mortification--and be without friends--and long
+hopeless of all good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not
+have been better for me to remain in the Union army? I could not
+see any reason for his subjecting me to so bitter an
+experience--but wait--did he not contend that every human being
+must go through an infinity of experience? That being true--or true
+to his thought--he might be just in causing me to endure what I
+have endured.</p>
+<p>Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run,
+seems clear if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has
+such superhuman power. Can I believe it?</p>
+<p>Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long
+till dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is
+stirring. My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the
+supernatural power of the Doctor.</p>
+<p>What would the possession of such power imply? To see future
+events and control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least.
+But the mind, is it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do
+marvellous things. That letter of my father's was a mystery....
+What! My father!</p>
+<p>The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.</p>
+<p>I have a father? Who is my father?</p>
+<p>The thought brings me to my feet.</p>
+<p>I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front
+stretches the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises
+come from rear and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no
+doubt, for the march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there
+should I be also. Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was
+signed Jones Berwick, Sr. From what place was it written? I do not
+know. But I know that my father is the man in the tent where the
+Doctor attends me sick.</p>
+<p>I make a step forward.</p>
+<p>Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the
+line is moving back; we are ordered back!"</p>
+<p>I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.</p>
+<p>I understand.</p>
+<p>I am going to my father.</p>
+<p>A flood of recollection has poured upon me.</p>
+<p>I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIX"></a>XXXIX</h2>
+<h3>REPARATION</h3>
+<center>"Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,<br>
+And welcome home again discarded faith."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of
+it would have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was
+made by its all coming.</p>
+<p>I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my
+father. The Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover
+my country.</p>
+<p>At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to
+my name distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my
+duty to battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger
+and death. The glory of the Confederate victories would now bring
+me pain and not joy. Oh! the deepness of the woe!</p>
+<p>But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it
+complete. I must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous
+yet criminal--a past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a
+barbarous future. I should be with the Doctor; I should be myself,
+and always myself, for I knew that my mind should nevermore suffer
+a repetition of the mysterious affliction which had changed me. My
+malady had departed forever; and with this knowledge there had come
+upon the glimmering emotions of repressed passion the almost
+overpowering consciousness that there was a woman in the world.</p>
+<p>I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had
+gone; I would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going.
+I wept and laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was
+past and future. I was strong and well. With my healing had come a
+revolution of another kind--a physical change which I felt would
+make of me a different creature from the poor moody rebel in rags,
+or even the groping Yankee spy of the day and of the year
+before.</p>
+<p>How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted
+and true. No matter what should befall them, they would continue to
+be true and loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the
+blackest disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage
+and for fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may
+conquer them. Their soldierly honour will be maintained even when
+they go down in defeat, as they must; never will shame lay its
+touch upon their ways, no matter what their destiny. I honour them,
+more now since I know the might of their enemies; I love them; I am
+proud of their high deeds, but I am done with them. In my heart
+alone can I do them reverence. My hand must be against them, as it
+has been for them.</p>
+<p>R&auml;tions? R&atilde;tions! The Federals say
+<i>r&atilde;tions</i>! Why did I not follow that clew?</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place
+to cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was
+lighting the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the
+well-known sounds of a moving army--an army which had been my pride
+and now must be my enemy. How often had I followed the red flag!
+How I had raised my voice in the tumult of the charge--mingling no
+dissentient note in the mighty concert of the fierce old rebel
+yell!</p>
+<p>What will they think of me? I know full well what they will
+think, and the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to
+beat. They will say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the
+Yankees; not at once will they say that, but in a week or two when
+hope of my return has been abandoned--and a few will say that Jones
+has lost his mind and has wandered off. The first--the unkind--will
+be right, and they will be wrong. The others--the generous--will be
+utterly wrong. I have not lost my mind; I have found it, and found
+it "for good." The report of my desertion will come to Adjutant
+Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will they tell? I hope not. Will
+they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I cannot hope it.</p>
+<p>Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones
+Berwick live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men
+live forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than
+death which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall
+never die. On through the ages! That bright star--almost the only
+one left in the graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it
+born!</p>
+<p>I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was
+up; I kept it on my right. What should I do and say when I should
+reach our men? Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to
+them quickly. The rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of
+infantry were seeking to fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or
+there would be a third Bull Run.</p>
+<p>But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid
+being captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will
+call for Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General
+Morell and to General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss
+of a day, half a day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to
+be falling back now. To retreat at once may save it--to delay means
+terrible disaster.</p>
+<p>I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do,
+to make the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy
+retreat of the army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its
+destruction, I shall be happy. I will even say that my service as a
+Confederate was a small price to pay ... what had the Doctor said?
+He had said that my infirmity was a power! He had said that he
+could imagine cases in which my peculiar affliction would give
+great opportunity for serving the country. What a mind that man
+has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he has had active part in what
+has befallen me.</p>
+<p>I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through
+wood and field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses
+and fields and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste,
+knowing or feeling that I shall find no help here. Here I shun
+nothing; here I seek nothing--beyond this region are the people I
+want. What can I say? what can I prove? This is the question that
+troubles me. If I say that I am a Union soldier, I must tell the
+whole truth, and that I cannot do; besides, it would not be
+believed. If I say I am a deserter, my declarations as to Lee's
+movement will not be taken without suspicion. What shall I do? If I
+could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal clothing; I might
+hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems impossible. I
+must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr. Khayme! But
+I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he is
+somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive?
+And Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long
+months! Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall
+find Lydia, but I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time;
+to seek the Doctor might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to
+the general headquarters.</p>
+<p>To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another.
+I hurry on. What do they mean by fighting down there?</p>
+<p>I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the
+fields or roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is
+bare. No smoke rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled;
+the roads are untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.</p>
+<p>I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints
+cover the road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout
+and weep for joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement.
+That is, if they go far enough west.</p>
+<p>Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does
+it mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that
+Lee is preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are
+only to deceive.</p>
+<p>On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road.
+Other cavalry may be coming or going.</p>
+<p>The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow
+it. I go straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the
+road beyond the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It
+looks like a man. It is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit
+I cock my rifle and hold it at the ready. I cannot see that he is
+armed. I go straight to him. He is lying on the ground, with his
+back toward me. He hears me. He rises to his feet. He is unarmed.
+He is greatly astonished, but is silent.</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I surrender," he says.</p>
+<p>"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body
+of your men."</p>
+<p>He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your
+game."</p>
+<p>He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the
+west, and goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to
+us?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Then let me have the gun," he says.</p>
+<p>I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order
+to claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
+believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is
+not impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he
+wants to march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him
+back to the Union army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not
+give him the gun. But I will make him talk.</p>
+<p>"What do you want with the gun?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference,"
+he says.</p>
+<p>He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and
+down hill, hardly changing direction.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what
+made you quit?"</p>
+<p>"My mind changed," I say.</p>
+<p>He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
+wouldn't say that, if I was you."</p>
+<p>"Why not, since it is true?"</p>
+<p>"It will do you no good."</p>
+<p>"But why?"</p>
+<p>"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do
+as you please."</p>
+<p>He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the
+whole truth.</p>
+<p>I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them.
+Their leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done
+a good job. How did you happen to get him?"</p>
+<p>"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have
+information of extreme importance to give him."</p>
+<p>"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if
+you please."</p>
+<p>"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must
+make a condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning
+slightly.</p>
+<p>"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send
+me to General Meade at once."</p>
+<p>"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to
+count. If you object to it, however, I withdraw it."</p>
+<p>"Then, who are you?"</p>
+<p>"I decline to say."</p>
+<p>"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should
+like to know how I am to rely on what you tell."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a
+horse, and send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me
+until I tell what I have to tell."</p>
+<p>"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and
+another for this man."</p>
+<p>Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You
+see, I am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served
+Thomas; now let him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"</p>
+<p>"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean
+your flank."</p>
+<p>"The devil you say! Infantry?"</p>
+<p>"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six
+divisions."</p>
+<p>"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me
+the truth?"</p>
+<p>"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
+countenance."</p>
+<p>"When did Ewell begin his march?"</p>
+<p>"I do not know."</p>
+<p>"When did Hill march?"</p>
+<p>"He began to move on the 8th."</p>
+<p>"Where was he before that date?"</p>
+<p>"In camp near Orange Court-House."</p>
+<p>"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"</p>
+<p>"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."</p>
+<p>"Which division is yours?"</p>
+<p>"Please withdraw that question."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night
+of the 8th?"</p>
+<p>"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."</p>
+<p>"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"</p>
+<p>"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."</p>
+<p>"Where on the 10th?"</p>
+<p>"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."</p>
+<p>"And where on the 11th?"</p>
+<p>"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a
+few miles from Jeffersonton."</p>
+<p>"And where was Ewell's corps?"</p>
+<p>"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed
+Hill's yesterday afternoon."</p>
+<p>"Going up?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; it went toward our right."</p>
+<p>"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"</p>
+<p>"Three."</p>
+<p>"Who commands them?"</p>
+<p>"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."</p>
+<p>"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"</p>
+<p>"It began to move up the river at daybreak."</p>
+<p>"Is that all you have of importance?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger.
+General Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with
+Jackson's march last year around General Pope." I say this very
+earnestly, and continue: "You ought to know that I am telling you
+the truth. A man coming into your lines and ordering an unarmed man
+to take him to you, ought to be believed."</p>
+<p>"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
+impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
+life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
+nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of
+prepossessing. The homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than
+I am. The strain to which I have been subjected for days and weeks,
+and especially for the last forty-eight hours, must be telling
+fearfully upon me. Uncouth, dirty, ragged, starved, weak through
+fever and strong through unnatural excitement, there can be no
+wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He may suspect that such a
+creature is seeking the presence of General Meade in order to
+assassinate him.</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other
+weapons. Bind my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this
+horse's belly. All I ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I
+am not wretchedly mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch
+for me."</p>
+<p>"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
+gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for
+your life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."</p>
+<p>He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling
+the truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived
+in some way. Good luck to you."</p>
+<p>He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.</p>
+<p>I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine,
+and his holsters were not empty.</p>
+<p>"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.</p>
+<p>We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are
+nearing the river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad
+trains, directly in front but far away.</p>
+<p>The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my
+horse's sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do
+not stop. I say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and
+storms, but keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound
+to my side, and I feel his hand on my collar.</p>
+<p>"Are you crazy?" he shouts.</p>
+<p>I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a
+suspicion may ruin my plan.</p>
+<p>After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the
+camps. We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.</p>
+<p>At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide,
+giving him the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard,
+before the general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers
+and orderlies. The aide approached the general, who turned and
+looked at me. The general held the note in his hand.</p>
+<p>"What is your name?" he asked."</p>
+<p>"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.</p>
+<p>"What brigade?"</p>
+<p>"McGowan's."</p>
+<p>"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"</p>
+<p>"South Carolina."</p>
+<p>"What division?"</p>
+<p>"Wilcox's."</p>
+<p>"How many brigades are in that division?"</p>
+<p>"Four, General."</p>
+<p>"Name them."</p>
+<p>"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."</p>
+<p>"From what states?"</p>
+<p>"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade
+is from Georgia."</p>
+<p>"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"</p>
+<p>"This morning, sir, before daylight"</p>
+<p>"You say that a movement was in progress?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."</p>
+<p>"Up what river?"</p>
+<p>"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."</p>
+<p>"You say the army? General Lee's army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to
+Georgia."</p>
+<p>"Did you see the other troops?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."</p>
+<p>"Did you see both corps?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in
+the afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours
+passing."</p>
+<p>The officers standing about were attentive, even serious.
+General Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.</p>
+<p>"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"</p>
+<p>"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there
+are some officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if
+they were here."</p>
+<p>"Who are they?"</p>
+<p>"General Morell is one, sir."</p>
+<p>All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I
+saw one of them tap his forehead.</p>
+<p>"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.</p>
+<p>"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."</p>
+<p>"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without
+evasion. What are you to General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that
+he would know me and believe me."</p>
+<p>"What are you to General Grover?"</p>
+<p>"He knew me, General"</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now
+with this army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent
+witnesses."</p>
+<p>"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me
+out."</p>
+<p>"General Porter is no longer in this army."</p>
+<p>"Then General Butterfield."</p>
+<p>"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."</p>
+<p>I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling
+for Dr. Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise.
+What had become of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who
+by bare possibility might have heard of me through General Morell,
+was, as I knew very well, far from this army. Certainly the war had
+been hard on the general officers of this Army of the Potomac. I
+would risk one more name.</p>
+<p>"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."</p>
+<p>"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"</p>
+<p>"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."</p>
+<p>General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head
+slightly.</p>
+<p>"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going
+to ask you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to
+answer quickly and without many words. How do you happen to know
+that the colonel of the Eleventh Massachusetts is named
+Blaisdell?"</p>
+<p>I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade
+alone, I should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea
+again came that he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to
+answer quickly, so I said, "I had friends in that regiment,
+General."</p>
+<p>The officers had gathered around their commander as close as
+etiquette allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of
+them very serious--others with sneers."</p>
+<p>"Name one of your friends."</p>
+<p>"John Lawler, sir."</p>
+<p>"What company?"</p>
+<p>"Company D."</p>
+<p>An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know
+General Grover and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did
+General Grover command? Where was it that you knew him?"</p>
+<p>"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
+information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
+would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
+Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a
+look.</p>
+<p>"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.</p>
+<p>A second orderly was sent off.</p>
+<p>All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to
+question me. I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the
+general, and a plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor
+appeared.</p>
+<p>"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"</p>
+<p>"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the
+Doctor quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful
+self-control would not even now desert him.</p>
+<p>"How do you know they were still moving?"</p>
+<p>"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the
+movement, sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on
+his conduct depended my peace for the future. If he should betray
+me, I should henceforth be a living curiosity.</p>
+<p>"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.</p>
+<p>The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how
+to answer. I was silent.</p>
+<p>"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"Start where, General?"</p>
+<p>"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was
+moving? If you intended to be of service to us, why did you
+delay?"</p>
+<p>Here was an opening.</p>
+<p>"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday,
+General; besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of
+the nature of General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could
+give the Doctor some signal before he should speak--before he
+should recognize me. I was determined to prevent his exposing me,
+no matter at what personal risk.</p>
+<p>"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.</p>
+<p>"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me,
+General. But that was only additional to the circumstances of
+position and direction of march."</p>
+<p>"The men? What do the men know of such things?"</p>
+<p>"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the
+country, from having marched over it many times. They were in the
+August campaign of last year; they said that the present movement
+could mean nothing except a repetition of General Jackson's flank
+march of last year."</p>
+<p>The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon
+me. The officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances
+one at another.</p>
+<p>"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Jackson's corps, General."</p>
+<p>"Did you make the march under him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of
+last year?"</p>
+<p>"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General
+Jackson's corps at the very place where I left Hill's corps this
+morning. On August 25th last year General Jackson crossed the
+Hedgeman River on his flank march. Hill's corps this morning began
+to move toward the crossing of the river."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."</p>
+<p>"Do you know him when you see him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir--many times."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Ewell?"</p>
+<p>"I would not know General Ewell, sir."</p>
+<p>"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"</p>
+<p>"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."</p>
+<p>"When?"</p>
+<p>"Yesterday, General."</p>
+<p>"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"</p>
+<p>"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it
+took many hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different
+brigades told us they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it,
+General."</p>
+<p>The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were
+for the purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without
+change of substance.</p>
+<p>The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
+reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General
+Meade. Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.</p>
+<p>The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade,
+"General, I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to
+meet him, if but a few yards."</p>
+<p>The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.</p>
+<p>I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or
+no!"</p>
+<p>General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.</p>
+<p>The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.</p>
+<p>Intense gravity was all over him.</p>
+<p>General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Who is he?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and
+shook his head; "I obey orders, General," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then reply," said the general.</p>
+<p>"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose,
+however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head.
+Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a
+huddle.</p>
+<p>"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.</p>
+<p>"Do you vouch for him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General."</p>
+<p>"He brings information of great import, if true; there is
+immense danger in accepting it, if false."</p>
+<p>"I will answer for him with my life, General."</p>
+<p>"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And
+he will tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"</p>
+<p>"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."</p>
+<p>"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very
+reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may
+confide in the general. You see, General, there is a private matter
+in which my friend here is greatly interested, and which he does
+not want everybody to hear."</p>
+<p>"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is
+bringing me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the
+general; "now speak up and convince me, and be quick."</p>
+<p>"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I
+am a regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."</p>
+<p>"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so
+long to tell it?"</p>
+<p>He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending
+despatches like the woods afire.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XL"></a>XL</h2>
+<h3>CONCLUSION</h3>
+<center>"And all that was death<br>
+Grows life, grows love,<br>
+Grows love."--BROWNING.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The Doctor held my hand.</p>
+<p>Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub
+rose; clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and
+south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.</p>
+<p>But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were
+three corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick,
+Sykes, and Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the
+morning of this day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until
+these troops should succeed in recrossing to the north side of the
+river, a strong force must hold the bridges.</p>
+<p>Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this
+was the first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.</p>
+<p>Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and
+eastward on every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his
+eyes and sobs in his voice. I had never seen him thus.</p>
+<p>We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and
+the wagons ready to move.</p>
+<p>"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.</p>
+<p>He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not
+see; all its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain,
+remained there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and
+came back to me.</p>
+<p>"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.</p>
+<p>I got in.</p>
+<p>By my side was a woman ... weeping.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the
+horizon. In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P.
+Hill; in the south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.</p>
+<p>The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to
+the darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs,
+there sat, apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions,
+a group of three.</p>
+<p>One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at
+least a sage, at least a hero.</p>
+<p>One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.</p>
+<p>One was a common soldier.</p>
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/12229-h/images/033.png b/12229-h/images/033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f1ca1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-h/images/033.png
diff --git a/12229-h/images/186.png b/12229-h/images/186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28b9a92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-h/images/186.png
diff --git a/12229-h/images/326.png b/12229-h/images/326.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1ee0a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-h/images/326.png
diff --git a/12229-h/images/367.png b/12229-h/images/367.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..657aeef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/12229-h/images/367.png
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6800702
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #12229 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12229)
diff --git a/old/12229-8.txt b/old/12229-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..fb01d80
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,19825 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Who Goes There?
+
+Author: Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2004 [EBook #12229]
+[Last updated. June 20, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+
+THE STORY OF A SPY
+
+IN
+
+THE CIVIL WAR
+
+
+BY
+
+B.K. BENSON
+
+
+1900
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+I. THE ADVANCE.
+II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.
+III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.
+IV. A PERSONAGE.
+V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.
+VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.
+VII. A SECOND DISASTER.
+VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.
+IX. KILLING TIME.
+X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.
+XI. FORT WILLIS.
+XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.
+XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.
+XIV. OUT OF SORTS.
+XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.
+XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.
+XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.
+XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.
+XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.
+XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.
+XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.
+XXII. COMPANY H.
+XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.
+XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.
+XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.
+XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.
+XXIX. FOREBODINGS.
+XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.
+XXXI. GLOOM.
+XXXII. NIGHT.
+XXXIII. HELL.
+XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.
+XXXV. AWAKENINGS.
+XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.
+XXXVII. A DOUBLE.
+XXXVIII. IDENTITY.
+XXXIX. REPARATION.
+XL. CONCLUSION.
+
+
+MAPS
+
+ 1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS MUSKET.
+ 2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.
+ 3. VIRGINIA.
+ 4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN MUSKET.
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+     "I'll note you in my book of memory."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I say
+malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition had never
+been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my father's
+opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five years old, to
+lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory entirely, but my ability
+to recall the events and the mental impressions of a recent period. The
+physicians had agreed that the trouble would pass away, but it had been
+repeated more than once. At the age of ten, when occurred the first
+attack which I remember, I was at school in my native New England
+village. One very cold day I was running home after school, when my foot
+slipped on a frozen pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great
+pain, and was almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I
+saw around me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast
+table to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too
+heavy, with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly
+changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took me
+home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions which I
+could not understand.
+
+Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He
+inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher, about
+the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me, and I
+answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an interval of
+more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried to learn whether
+there remained in my mind any effect of my studies during the past
+term. The result was surprising. He found that as to actual knowledge my
+mind retained the power developed by its exercise,--without, however,
+holding all details of fact,--but that, in everything not positive, my
+experience seemed to have been utterly lost. I knew my multiplication
+table thoroughly; I had acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I
+could write correctly, and my ability to read was not lessened. But when
+questions concerning historical events, either general or local, were
+asked, my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned
+for the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on
+the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and against
+the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on the previous
+day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy boy.
+
+Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last period
+of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images, while the time
+preceding that period was as nothing to me. My little sister had died
+when I was six years old; I did not know that she had ever lived; her
+name, even, was strange to me.
+
+After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my own
+opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was not,
+however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the doctors'
+deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to take me to the
+South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the fact that my father
+had landed interests in South Carolina. At any rate, my father soon took
+me to Charleston, where I was again put to school. Doubtless I was thus
+relieved of much annoyance, as my new schoolmates received me without
+showing the curiosity which would have irritated me in my own village.
+
+More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned to me.
+The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a group of boys
+were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto regiment had
+distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say, "Yes, your Uncle
+Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best in the army." I felt a
+glow of pride at this praise of my people--as I supposed it to be. More
+talk followed, however, in which it became clear that the boys were not
+speaking of Franklin Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was
+greatly puzzled.
+
+A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M. Butler,
+the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had fallen on the
+field of Churubusco.
+
+Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been disturbed
+by this event, but I know that from this time I began to collect,
+vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life; so that, when
+my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had entirely recovered
+my lost memory. I even knew everything that had happened in the recent
+interval, so that my consciousness held an uninterrupted chain of all
+past events of importance. And now I realized with wonder one of the
+marvellous compensations of nature. My brain reproduced form, size,
+colour--any quality of a material thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly
+that the actual object seemed present to my senses, while I could feel
+dimly, what I now know more thoroughly, that my memory during the
+interval had operated weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so
+called--questions of doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which
+there might well be more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind.
+Although I have truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind
+began its recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first
+step was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some
+difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto
+regiment acquired the greater glory.
+
+My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my summers
+were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became dissatisfied
+with my progress, and decided that I should return to the South for the
+winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no recurrence of my mental
+peculiarity he would thereafter put me in the hands of a private tutor
+who should prepare me for college.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health was
+sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and gained a
+reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert especially in
+climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were, nevertheless,
+considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that the anxiety shown
+by my father for my health influenced me somewhat; moreover, I had a
+natural bent toward bodily rather than mental exercise.
+
+The feature most attractive to me in school work was the debating class.
+As a sort of _ex-officio_ president of this club, was one of our tutors,
+whom none of the boys seemed greatly to like. He was called Professor
+Khayme--pronounced Ki-me. Sometimes the principal addressed him as
+Doctor. He certainly was a very learned and intelligent man; for
+although the boys had him in dislike, there were yet many evidences of
+the respect he commanded from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed,
+at various times, of different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty
+and fifty. He was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall,
+and was exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his
+countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed always
+complete self-control, if not indifference. He was dark--almost as dark
+as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the breadth and height of his
+forehead were almost a deformity. He had no beard, and yet I feel sure
+that he never used a razor. I rarely saw him off duty without a peculiar
+black pipe in his mouth, which he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the
+smoke at very long intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent
+schoolmates that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through
+his skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated
+the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.
+
+Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to which were
+admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my dying day I shall
+remember one of these occasions. The debate, so celebrated, between the
+great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster was the feature of the
+entertainment. Behind the curtain sat Professor Khayme, prompter and
+general manager. A boy with mighty lungs and violent gesticulation
+recited an abridgment of Hayne's speech, beginning:--
+
+     "If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and I say
+     it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison
+     with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and
+     uncalculating devotion to the Union, that State is South
+     Carolina."
+
+Great applause followed. These were times of sectional compromise. I
+also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting influence of
+Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for harmony between the
+sections. The majority of thinking people considered true patriotism to
+concist in patience and charity each to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's
+"Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but few Southerners had read it or
+would read it. I also applauded.
+
+Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced that the
+next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to Hayne,' to be
+recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master Jones Berwick."
+
+I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me that I
+was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt an
+impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the boys all
+over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped loudly. Then the
+professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and his voice was by far
+his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master Berwick had not been
+originally selected to recite, but that the young orator chosen the duty
+had been called away unexpectedly, and that it was well known that
+Master Berwick, being a compatriot of the great Webster, and being not
+only thoroughly competent to declaim the abridged form of the speech in
+question, but also in politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator,
+could serve with facility in the stead of the absentee, and would
+certainly sustain the reputation of the club.
+
+How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I know not
+what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech recited, but not
+recently, and I could not see my way through.
+
+I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said to me, in
+a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I pledge you my word
+as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to this light." Then he
+seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few soft finger-touches, and I
+remembered no more until I found myself on the rostrum listening to a
+perfect din of applause that covered the close of my speech. If there
+were any fire-eaters in the audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an
+knew how to be polite, even to a fault.
+
+I could not understand my success: I had vague inward inclination that
+it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have departed for the time.
+I felt that some wonderful change had been wrought in me, and, youngster
+though I was, I was amazed to think what might be the possibilities
+of the mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor Khayme, but as
+he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as oratory, it was
+impossible that we should not meet. In class he was reserved and
+confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone or look varying
+his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though his outward gravity
+and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that he influenced me by a
+power which no other man exerted over me.
+
+One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just crossed
+Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder, and, turning, I
+saw Doctor Khayme.
+
+"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.
+
+He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have from your
+father a letter in relation to your health. He says that he is uneasy
+about you."
+
+"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason to be
+worried."
+
+"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the Doctor.
+
+Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I am
+glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do _you_ think I am wrong
+in health?"
+
+"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for you to see
+the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany me to my lodging,
+I will show it to you."
+
+Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of the side
+streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines clambered over the
+porch and were trained so that they almost hid the windows. An old
+woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and everything that a general
+servant may be, opened to his knock.
+
+"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to my
+thought.
+
+I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The windows
+looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front of the grate,
+where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For the rest, there
+was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old bookcase in a corner
+seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes in antique covers, A
+writing-table, littered and piled with papers, was in the middle of the
+room, and there were a few easy-chairs, into one of which the Doctor
+motioned me.
+
+Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took
+down a pipe with a long stem, and began to stuff the bowl with
+tobacco which I saw was very black; while he was doing so, I recognized
+on the pipe the carven image of an idol.
+
+"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."
+
+I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he meant.
+
+He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and handed
+it to me. I read:--
+
+     "MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to you. My
+     son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great
+     uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above
+     the average--you will have already discovered this; but I
+     wish to say that his mind has passed through strange
+     experiences and that possibly he must--though God forbid--go
+     through more of such. A friend of mine has convinced me that
+     you can help my boy.
+
+     Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."
+
+When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was strange,
+especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor and offered the
+letter to him.
+
+"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."
+
+I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat with the
+amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes were turned
+from me.
+
+He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning toward me,
+and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said very slowly, "I do
+not think it advisable to ask you to tell me what the mental experiences
+are to which your father alludes; it may be best that you should not
+speak of them; it may be best that you should not think of them. I am
+sure that I can help you; I am sure that your telling me your history
+could not cause me to help you more."
+
+I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and sweet. I
+could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed fixed on me,
+but I felt that he was looking through me at something beyond.
+
+Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your will. I can
+help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have great will-power
+also, but you have not cultivated that power. This is a critical time in
+your life. You are becoming a man. You must use your will. I can help
+you by making you see that you _can_ use your will, and that the will is
+very powerful--that _your_ will is very powerful. He who has confidence
+in his own will-power will exert it. I can help you to have confidence.
+But I cannot exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I
+shall give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little
+your present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
+doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and against
+to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty in choosing
+for or against. You are just in that condition. You have feared and
+mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are leaving you, and
+curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not bid you to make an
+effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to determine now whether you
+will struggle against weakness or submit to it; whether you will begin
+to use your sleeping will-power or else continue to accept what comes."
+
+I rose to my feet at once.
+
+"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first smile I had
+ever seen on his face.
+
+"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually learned more
+and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter told me much, that
+I could never have guessed. She was a very serious child, perhaps of
+eleven years, and not very attractive. In fact, she was ugly, but her
+gravity seemed somehow to suit her so well that I could by no means
+dislike her. Her father was very fond of her; of an evening the three
+of us would sit in the west room; the Doctor would smoke and read; I
+would read some special matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my
+tutor; Lydia would sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and
+absorbed seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some
+words which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the
+seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the
+natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way. I was
+not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of the
+household, and never thought of asking for information that seemed
+withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when the Doctor
+would be absent from the room, that they were foreigners,--a fact which.
+I had already taken for granted,--but I was never made to know the land
+of their birth. It was certain that Dr. Khayme could speak German and
+French, and I could frequently see him reading in books printed in
+characters unknown to me. Several times I have happened to come
+unexpectedly into the presence of the father and daughter when they were
+conversing in a tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor
+had no companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from
+the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at the
+cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from remarks
+dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she had, that her
+studies were the languages in the main, and I had strong evidence that,
+young as she was, her proficiency in French and German far exceeded my
+own acquirements.
+
+By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in what we
+would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for the experience
+I am now writing down embraces the winters of five or six years. Most of
+the books that composed his library were abstruse treatises on
+metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I believe that in his collection
+could have been found the Bible of every religious faith. Sometimes he
+would read aloud a passage in the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a
+manuscript copy interleaved with annotations in his own delicate
+handwriting.
+
+He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested in the
+political condition of every civilized nation. The future of the human
+race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much thought. I have
+heard him more than once declare, with emphasis, that the outlook for
+the advancement of America was not auspicious. In regard to the
+sectional discord in the United States, he showed a strange unconcern. I
+knew that he believed it a matter of indifference whether secession, of
+which we were beginning again to hear some mutterings, was a
+constitutional right; but on the question of slavery his interest was
+intense. He believed that slavery could not endure, let secession be
+attempted or abandoned, let secession fail or succeed.
+
+In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had
+interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the
+intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much reason
+to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my father
+about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long time, in fact,
+the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when it did come I
+decided that, since my father had not mentioned the matter, it was not
+for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.
+
+My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my life in the
+South had given way to his fears, and that I was to continue to spend my
+winters in Charleston. In after years I learned that Dr. Khayme had not
+thought my condition exempt from danger.
+
+So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57, without
+recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my father and the
+physicians agreed that my migrations should cease, and I entered
+college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I expressed great regret
+on account of our separation, but I received no reply.
+
+On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly, even
+without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered lapse of
+memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable exactness, all the
+time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr. Khayme.
+
+Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was induced
+to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that had happened
+since the last day I spent there, and he was, moreover, very anxious to
+meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our arrival in Charleston, however, that
+the Doctor and his daughter had sailed for Liverpool early in September.
+My father and I travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my
+memory was completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts,
+leaving me in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until
+August, 1860.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on Sumter,
+was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire to enter the
+army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he doubted the effect of
+military life upon my mental nature. Our family physician, however, was
+upon my side, and contended, with what good reason I did not know, that
+the active life of war would be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so
+my father ceased to oppose, and I enlisted.
+
+
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+I
+
+THE ADVANCE
+
+     "Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare.
+
+In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July
+16, 1861.
+
+The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."
+
+I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
+understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
+orders, except two things:--
+
+First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.
+
+Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun burnt our
+faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down hill, up hill and
+down hill, we marched for an hour, west and southwest.
+
+We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens. The
+city could no longer he seen.
+
+Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired sergeant--a
+favourite with the men.
+
+I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.
+
+"Miles's division," says Willis.
+
+"What is on our left?"
+
+"Nothing," says Willis.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"We are the left," says Willis.
+
+The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible views.
+
+The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short sword
+saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the colonel at the
+head of the regiment. The captain returned to his post:--
+
+"_Comp-a-ny_--B ... ATTENTION!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"LOAD!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"_R-i-i-i-i-ght_ ... FACE!" ...
+
+"_Fah_--_w-u-u-u-d_ ... MOTCH!" ...
+
+"_Fi--lef_ ... MOTCH!"
+
+Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.
+
+The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.
+
+Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I could see
+some black spots in a stubble-field.
+
+"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.
+
+"Any rebels out that way?"
+
+"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.
+
+Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few miles
+had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from four to four;
+great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by our columns advancing
+on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the sun directly in our faces.
+This little peaked infantry cap is a damnable outrage. The straps across
+my shoulders seemed to cut my flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My
+canteen was soon dry. The men were no longer erect as on dress parade.
+Each one bent over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no
+heavy cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was
+using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the sergeants.
+My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.
+
+Another halt; a new detail for water.
+
+The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the darkness. A
+hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a mile and a halt of
+half an hour; an exasperating march. At two o'clock in the morning we
+were permitted to break ranks. I was too tired to sleep. Where we were I
+knew not, and I know not--somewhere in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis,
+who was near me, lying on his blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow,
+said that we were the left of McDowell's army; that the centre and right
+extended for miles; that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax
+Court-House at this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he
+would wake up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before the light we were aroused by the reveillé.
+
+The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for many
+hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward to relieve
+the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred yards of a
+feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost parallel with our
+skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but trees. Beyond the
+stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men of the company were in
+position, but at ease. The division was half a mile in our rear.
+
+I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the
+blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to think of
+my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few yards away; he
+was in the act of lighting his pipe.
+
+"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.
+
+"What's what?" I asked.
+
+"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"
+
+At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a low
+rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again the
+distant cannon was heard.
+
+About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from Washington were
+in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war correspondent had
+outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the campaign. Basing his
+prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he knew something of the
+nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the public was informed that
+Heintzelman's division would swing far to the left until the rear of
+Beauregard's right flank was reached; at the same time Miles and Hunter
+would seize Fairfax Court-House, and threaten the enemy's centre and
+left, and would seriously attack when Heintzelman should give the
+signal. Thus, rolled up from the right, and engaged everywhere else, the
+enemy's defeat was inevitable.
+
+The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a little
+when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was beginning to be
+afraid that his plans were endangered.
+
+"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax Court-House,"
+said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means that our troops have
+been delayed. Beauregard is awake."
+
+Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was my
+first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We readied a
+spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be seen. He was
+facing us, instead of his front. The poor fellow--Johnson, of our
+company--had, been on post for two mortal hours, and was more concerned
+about the relief in his rear than about the enemy that might not be in
+his front. The sergeant halted within a few paces of the vedette, while
+I received instructions. I was to ascertain from the sentinel any
+peculiarity of his post and the general condition, existing in his
+front, and then, dismiss him to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could
+tell me nothing. He had seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and
+I was alone.
+
+The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to enable one
+to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was invisible. Night
+was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A thousand insects were
+cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed concert welcomed the twilight.
+A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the tree above me. Far away--to
+right or left, I know not--a cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The
+wind died away.
+
+I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.
+
+I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the first time
+the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but natural to be
+nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided that I was not
+nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in the swamp sounded
+but familiar and appropriate.
+
+That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was certain
+unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of wars and
+battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I wondered whether
+the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew they would fight; I had
+lived among those misguided people.
+
+
+
+II
+
+A SHAMEFUL DAY
+
+     'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs betimes."--Shakespeare.
+
+"_Fall in, men! Fall in Company D_!"
+
+It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.
+
+We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a constant
+state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed reconnaissance on
+Bull Run had brought more than our generals had counted on; we had heard
+the combat, but had taken no part in it. Now the attack by the left had
+been abandoned.
+
+The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying to get
+rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations in our
+haversacks.
+
+At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road for
+Centreville.
+
+Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody took the
+trouble to assent or deny.
+
+At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay down--in the
+road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet and moved about
+impatiently.
+
+An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and we must
+wait till the way was clear.
+
+Little noise was made by the column marching on the road intersecting
+ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in general the men were
+silent, going forward with rapid strides, or standing stock still when
+brought to an abrupt halt whenever the head of the column struck
+an obstacle.
+
+I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was
+nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two hours high.
+
+Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the dust. In
+ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no command, except
+the everlasting "Close up! close up!"
+
+Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a neighbourhood road;
+... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so much dust now, but the sun
+getting hotter and hotter, and hotter and hotter getting our thirst.
+
+And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!
+
+Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear it? The
+cannon roar in the valley below us.
+
+Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
+ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at double-quick;
+the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our front.
+
+What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and fire.
+
+See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red blood
+streams from his head!
+
+What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the hill. Why
+should they die?
+
+Ah, me! ah, me!
+
+The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander rides to
+its front:
+
+"_Colour_--_bearer_--_twelve_--_paces_--_to the front_--MARCH!
+_Bat-tal-ion_--_pre-sent_--ARMS!"
+
+Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and cries,
+DIES BY IT!
+
+A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces are
+white as death.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--_fix_--BAYONETS!
+
+"_For-ward_--_guide centre_--MARCH!"
+
+Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt and
+re-form.
+
+We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly with a
+dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique is a battery;
+... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and the horses and the
+men; they load and fire, load and fire.
+
+A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls ...
+rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.
+
+Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air? Thop!
+Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his height
+is lost.
+
+And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the battery
+has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long line of men
+come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns. The men of the
+battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the captured pieces.
+
+Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise and
+look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no music, no drum
+... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel behind the centre,
+dismounted,--the men march on; quick time, right-shoulder-shift; the
+fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the regiment always marching on.
+The rebels at the battery are not in line; some try to drag away the
+guns; swords flash in the hot sun; ... the rebels re-form; ... they lie
+down; ... and now the regiment is at double-quick with trailed arms; ...
+the rebel line rises and delivers its fire.
+
+The smoke swallows everything.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold the
+battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing rebels; and
+now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the regiment in
+disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and rushes for the
+battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give way ... they
+run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ... and the cavalry ride
+from, the woods, and ride straight through our flying men and strike ...
+and many of the fugitives fire upon the horsemen, who in turn flee for
+their lives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is smoke.
+Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows; crowds of
+wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ... the men madly
+lash the horses.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--ATTENTION!"
+
+Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.
+
+"_For-ward_--MARCH!"
+
+The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ... but we are
+moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks are thinning;
+elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a horrid impatience
+seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons ... faster, faster ...
+I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my face--"_Surrender, you
+damned Yankee!_"
+
+
+
+III
+
+I BREAK MY MUSKET
+
+     "And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly mob ...
+I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.
+
+The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men had run
+beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each one for
+himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and brigades were
+intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to pursue us, many
+thousands of our men would have fallen into their hands.
+
+In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
+exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop and
+rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing in our
+rear had ceased.
+
+A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where is the
+company?"
+
+"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as quick as
+you can."
+
+"Tell me who is hurt," said I.
+
+But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to remain where
+I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as to my will, and by
+great effort resolved to rise and run.
+
+At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I heard my
+name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his hand, and heard
+him call me again. I went toward him. It was Willis; he was limping;
+his hat was gone; everything was gone; in fact, he was hardly able
+to march.
+
+"Where are you hit?" I asked.
+
+"The knee," he replied.
+
+"Bad?"
+
+"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain me as it
+did awhile ago."
+
+"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.
+
+"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for men worse
+off than I am."
+
+Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some order, but
+the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken it into their
+heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us were packed
+between the high banks of the roadway which went down toward the creek.
+I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing since five o'clock in
+the morning.
+
+"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let the
+crowd scatter before we go on."
+
+"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow a
+mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any water in
+your canteen?"
+
+"Not a drop," said I.
+
+Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the troops at
+this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the hill, where the
+road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater space; some of them
+followed their leaders straight ahead on the road; others went to the
+right and left, seeking to avoid the crowd.
+
+"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."
+
+"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"
+
+"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and I can
+stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."
+
+"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."
+
+He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely too,
+although, at every step he groaned with pain.
+
+I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just a
+little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will was
+good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He was a
+strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a bullock.
+So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to a wounded
+comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him, especially since
+he showed such determination to save himself. Besides, I knew that he
+was quick-witted and country-bred; and I had great hope that he would
+prove more of a help than a hindrance.
+
+We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now running up
+the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow, but the banks were
+high, and in most places steep. Men were crossing at almost all points.
+Slowly following the hurrying groups of twos and threes who had
+outstripped us, we found at length, a place that seemed fordable for
+Willis. It was where a small branch emptied into the creek; and by
+getting into the branch, above its mouth, and following its course, we
+should be able to cross the creek.
+
+"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have muddied the
+branch; it's as bad as the creek."
+
+"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.
+
+"No," said he; "it would make us sick."
+
+"But what else can we do?"
+
+"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.
+
+All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
+shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I hoped
+that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good than
+harm--that time would be saved, in effect.
+
+A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the water clear.
+I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it, and food. Willis
+lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled my canteen; I handed
+it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and drank.
+
+The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we might have
+remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant poplar had been
+uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall an opening in, the
+undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, and the boughs,
+intermingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at our
+backs and completely screened from view.
+
+Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the canteen again,
+and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much swollen; just under
+the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this I washed away, using all
+the gentle care at my command, but giving him, nevertheless, great pain.
+A small round hole was now sean, and by gently pressing on its walls, I
+thought I detected the presence of the ball.
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more than half
+an inch, deep."
+
+"Then pull it out," said Willis,
+
+That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on his back,
+eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my mouth with
+hardtack and pork.
+
+I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an obstacle
+was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so small that I
+conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, the rebels using,
+as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded with buck-and-ball
+cartridges.
+
+"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; suppose I
+get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for you? Maybe
+you'd lose too much blood."
+
+"I want it out," said Willis.
+
+"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no good.
+Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my business is to
+let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."
+
+"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."
+
+The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.
+
+"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything of that
+kind."
+
+"You refuse?"
+
+"I positively refuse," said I.
+
+We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low rumbling
+was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon train.
+
+Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and kneaded
+some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my shirt, and tore
+it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened out, I applied a
+handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I wrapped the cloths
+around the knee, at every fold smearing the bandage with clay. I hardly
+knew why I did this, unless with the purpose of keeping the knee-joint
+from bending; when the clay should become dry and hard the joint would
+be incased in a stiff setting which I hoped would serve for splints.
+Willis approved the treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains,
+and might be good for wounds.
+
+I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could hardly
+move.
+
+"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."
+
+He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft earth;
+after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better without it."
+Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his weight.
+
+I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the stock of
+which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters J.B. I broke
+the stock with one blow of the barrel against the poplar log.
+
+I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our way
+through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our knees and
+seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the further bank was
+achieved, but with great difficulty.
+
+[Illustration: BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861]
+
+We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling. We saw
+no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much and painful
+toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day showed us a small
+field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his blanched face showing
+his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.
+
+It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more, and I
+decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the field I had
+seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them. At the bottom of
+the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The work took but a minute.
+Willis was looking on dully; he was on the bare ground, utterly done for
+with pain and weariness. At length, he asked, "What's that for?"
+
+"For you," I replied.
+
+He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at the same
+time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and pulled the
+overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually to conceal him
+from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and haversack and
+placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my throat, I bade
+him good-by.
+
+"Jones," said he, "God bless you."
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to return and
+get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get help, I will
+come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow you do not see me,
+you must act for the best. It may become necessary for you to show
+yourself and surrender, in order to get your wound properly treated; all
+this country will be ransacked by the rebel cavalry before
+to-morrow night."
+
+"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road which we
+had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road a mile or
+more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick clouds gave
+warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the same circuitous
+road by which we had advanced in the morning--was not to take the
+nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the Warrenton turnpike, but
+all I knew was that it was somewhere to my right. I determined to make
+my way as rapidly as I could in that direction through the fields
+and thickets.
+
+For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake, when
+suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went cautiously
+in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.
+
+By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined against
+the sky.
+
+I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness rattling;
+still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it was a wagon, was
+toward me.
+
+I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no need
+for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private carriage;
+it certainly is not an army wagon."
+
+I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and had
+opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice which I
+had heard before, and which, stupefied me with astonishment.
+
+"Is that you, Jones?"
+
+I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my
+supposition must be impossible.
+
+A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in his
+mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt as
+though in the presence of a miracle.
+
+"I have been seeking you," he said.
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A PERSONAGE
+
+     "I cannot tell
+     What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye
+     Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think. The
+happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat of the
+Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted, despairing,
+heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded friend, still far from
+safety myself, with no physical desire remaining except the wish to lie
+down and be at rest forever, and with no moral feeling in my
+consciousness except that of shame,--which will forever rise uppermost
+in me when I think of that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by
+the man whom I held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had
+believed, was never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the
+verge of the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the débris
+of the rout, while groping, as it were, on my lone way to security
+scarcely hoped for--it was too much; I sank down on the road.
+
+How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few moments.
+
+The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said he; "you
+are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with us."
+
+Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me the flask
+of brandy."
+
+When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before him.
+
+"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must get
+Willis."
+
+"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed, from the
+direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had reached the
+field hospital. Where is Willis now?"
+
+I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were in the
+stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily alarmed on
+hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name; then, hearing no
+answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is Jones, with help!" But
+there was no response.
+
+We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get him
+awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him up
+bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the vehicle.
+
+And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back and
+slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it was six in
+the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the midst of a driving
+rain. There were two seats in the ambulance, besides a double-deck, that
+is to say, two floors for wounded to lie upon. I scrambled to the
+rear seat.
+
+We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was crowded.
+There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on horseback or in
+carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers single and in groups
+swelled the procession, some of them with their arms in slings; how they
+had achieved the long night march I cannot yet comprehend.
+
+Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open, but he was
+awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.
+
+Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded sleepily,
+although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary, looked fresh
+and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I could almost have
+believed that he had become younger than he had been when I parted with
+him in Charleston, more than three years before. He knew that I was
+observing him, for he said, without turning his face toward me, "You
+have not slept well, Jones; but you did not know when we stopped at
+Fairfax; we rested the horses there for an hour."
+
+"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully down."
+
+"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of the
+country?"
+
+"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.
+
+I did not reply at once.
+
+"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the people
+of the United States, including those of the seceded States? Do you mean
+the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes American
+civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult matters now.
+We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and then arrange for
+your comfort."
+
+"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my devouring
+curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on the
+battlefield."
+
+"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you there is
+no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately, as an agent
+of the United States Sanitary Commission."
+
+"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you felt no
+interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in Charleston in
+'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe. And then, too, how
+could you know that I was on such a part of the battlefield, and that
+Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"
+
+"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
+afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being in
+America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer all talk
+of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with Sergeant Willis,
+and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men of your regiment gave
+me that information."
+
+I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the miscellaneous file
+of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else that was now blocked on
+the bridge,
+
+At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily find the
+place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a mile from the
+spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am certain that I could
+not have found the place."
+
+"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively easy
+for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all day to
+help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason that he knows
+every nook and corner of that part of the country."
+
+After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia College
+Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before learning that
+his wound was not difficult.
+
+"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will see to
+it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take that time to
+set you right, especially as I can see that you have some traces of
+nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent your becoming ill."
+
+"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"
+
+"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody authorized
+to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own; by to-morrow all
+the routed troops will be in or near Washington; then I shall simply
+write a note, if you insist upon it, to the commanding officer of your
+company, explaining Willis's absence and your connection with his case,
+and take on myself the responsibility for your return to your command."
+
+"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
+accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"
+
+"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor; "some of
+your men will not report to their commands for a week. You will be ready
+for your company before your company is ready for you."
+
+"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all military
+requirement."
+
+He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his hand.
+
+"Well, what do you think of this?"
+
+It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company and
+regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for ten days.
+I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his kindness.
+
+"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the best of
+quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized that we have not
+yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our affairs; in fact, my
+work yesterday was rather the work of a volunteer than the work of the
+Commission. Our tents are now beyond Georgetown Heights; in a few days
+we shall move our camps, and shall increase our comfort."
+
+The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets. The
+sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and soldiers; wagons,
+guns, caissons, ambulances; companies, spick-and-span, which, had not
+yet seen service; ones, twos, threes, squads of men who had escaped from
+the disaster of the 21st, unarmed, many of them, without
+knapsacks, haggard.
+
+At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind which
+stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished fugitives.
+The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians looked their anxiety.
+A general officer rode by, surrounded by the remnant of his staff, heads
+bent down, gloomy. Women wept while serving the hungry. The unfinished
+dome of the Capitol, hardly seen through the rain, loomed ominous.
+Depression over all: ambulances full of wounded men, tossing and
+groaning; fagged-out horses, vehicles splashed with mud; policemen
+dazed, idle; newsboys crying their merchandise; readers eagerly
+reading--not to know the result to the army, but the fate of some loved
+one; stores closed; whispers; doom.
+
+I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he got out of
+the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman gave him coffee,
+which he brought to me, and made me drink. He returned to the table and
+gave back the cup. The woman looked toward the ambulance. She was a tall
+young woman, serious, dignified. She impressed me.
+
+We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were four
+wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The ambulance
+stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of the tents; he
+pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," said he; "go to sleep;
+you shall not be disturbed."
+
+"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"My mind will not let me."
+
+"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you are
+getting on."
+
+I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, pulling a
+sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.
+
+I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the First
+Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the woods. I saw the
+rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar log in a thicket;--a
+purple wound--wet clay;--a broken rifle;--stacks of straw.
+
+Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? for the
+cause? What is to defend Washington?
+
+Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would be
+anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I rose.
+
+"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so overwhelmed by
+this great calamity that I had not thought of telegraphing to my father.
+Can you get a messenger here?"
+
+"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing that you
+are safe."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to sleep; by
+the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your father."
+
+"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can sleep."
+
+"Let me feel your pulse."
+
+Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the side of
+the bed.
+
+"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse, he said
+softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder that you are
+wrought up."
+
+He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through my hair.
+
+
+
+V
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP
+
+
+     "Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
+     But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the afternoon
+of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept dreamlessly.
+
+On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I hastily tore
+it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe. Continue to do
+your duty." My heart swelled,
+
+I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under a tree,
+near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an awning, or fly,
+beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a woman was sitting in a
+chair, reading. I thought I had seen her before, and looking more
+closely I recognized the woman who had given the Doctor a cup of coffee
+on Pennsylvania Avenue.
+
+The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have rested well,"
+said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."
+
+I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that I was
+not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation of the
+young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was shame that I
+had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about her.
+
+"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with, a
+smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying out
+"Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.
+
+"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you have had
+nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked yourself while
+bandaging--"
+
+"What do you know about that?" I asked.
+
+"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As for Lydia
+and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and you must not
+expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to, my boy. I know that
+you have eaten nothing to-day."
+
+There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I did not
+wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the talks of my
+friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat merely for the purpose
+of keeping me in countenance.
+
+"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"
+
+"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is not
+four years since we saw him."
+
+These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had left her
+a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was a woman of
+fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not resemble her
+father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast of feature. Her
+dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his straight black hair; her
+eyes were not his; her stature was greater than his. Yet there were
+points of resemblance. Her manner was certainly very like the Doctor's,
+and many times a fleeting expression was identical with, the Doctor's
+habitually perfect repose.
+
+She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot remember
+anything of her dress. I only know that it was unpretentious
+and charming.
+
+Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to indicate great
+intelligence; her complexion was between dark and fair, and betokened
+health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little large perhaps. She had an
+air of seriousness--her only striking peculiarity. One might have
+charged her with masculinity, but in this respect only: she was far
+above the average woman in dignity of manner and in consciousness of
+attainment. She could talk seriously of men and things.
+
+I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could only
+manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that she had a
+great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly boy she had
+known in Charleston.
+
+She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my third
+cup of coffee.
+
+"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something about our
+life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three sentences."
+
+"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can speak
+four."
+
+"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over you very
+carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the hospital
+surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your extinction."
+
+"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"
+
+"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.
+
+"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not talkative,
+but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to sleep."
+
+The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes shone. He
+did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at Lydia. For the
+time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her father's. I ate. I
+thanked my stars for the conversation that was covering my ignoble
+performance.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of Willis?"
+
+"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it was only a
+buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."
+
+"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"
+
+"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full credit
+for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage you
+gave him."
+
+"Was it the correct practice?"
+
+"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but under the
+circumstances we must pardon you."
+
+"How long will the sergeant be down?"
+
+"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and his
+state of mind."
+
+"What's the matter with his mind?"
+
+"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western world."
+
+I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head was the
+same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the tents.
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday will
+prove to be the crisis of the war."
+
+"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South will
+win?"
+
+"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter which side
+shall win?"
+
+"Doctor, you are a strange man!"
+
+"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the point. I
+ask what difference it would make whether the North or South
+should succeed."
+
+"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably? What are
+we doing here?"
+
+"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always wrong;
+going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted policy; every
+wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."
+
+"Even when war is forced upon us?"
+
+"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make war; if one
+refuses, the other cannot make war."
+
+"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to war on
+the whole; but what was left for the North to do? Acknowledge the right
+of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the loss of all Federal
+property in the Southern States? Tamely endure without resentment the
+attack on Sumter?"
+
+"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than that you
+resist."
+
+Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without
+ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you
+good night."
+
+"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you must know
+that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to the Commission,
+and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is on duty to-night at
+the College Hospital. I think she will have her hands full."
+
+"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked, looking my
+admiration.
+
+"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can easily see
+him if you wish."
+
+"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see
+him--to-morrow, if possible."
+
+Lydia started off down the hill.
+
+"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it is but
+a short distance down there."
+
+The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was not
+new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war is
+wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent war? A
+nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I could not
+doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should now or ever see
+itself broken up, then farewell to American liberties; farewell to the
+hopes of peoples against despotism. To refuse war, to tamely allow the
+South to withdraw and set up a government of her own, would be but the
+beginning of the end; at the first grievance California, Massachusetts,
+any State, could and would become independent. No; war must come; the
+Union must be preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for
+my part, I could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war
+was forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice?
+War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down to-day, but
+Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is lost, but all is
+not lost.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to be the
+crisis of the war?"
+
+"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and will be
+well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a wholesome one.
+Your government now knows the enormous work it has to do. We shall now
+see preparation commensurate with the greatness of the work. Three
+months' volunteers are already a thing of the past. This war might have
+been avoided; all war might be avoided; but this war has not been
+avoided; America will be at war for years to come."
+
+I was silent.
+
+"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is ordered to
+report immediately in person to the war department."
+
+"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but what has
+McDowell done to deserve this?"
+
+"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general that fails
+finds it so; McClellan may find it so."
+
+"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."
+
+"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look things
+squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan will fail.
+I think, however, that there will be many failures, and much injustice
+done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily tolerated--any
+injustice that will bring success; success is demanded--not justice.
+Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and brought failure; wholesale
+murder that brings success is what is demanded by this
+superstitious people."
+
+"Why do you say superstitious?"
+
+"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it changes;
+it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has what he calls
+a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he changes his policy,
+and very frequently changes just as the cards change to suit his former
+play. You are now changing to McClellan, simply because McDowell has had
+bad luck and McClellan good luck. I do not know that McClellan's good
+luck will continue. War and cards are alike, and they are unlike."
+
+"How alike and unlike?"
+
+"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the long
+run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also destroys chance,
+and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side loses less than the
+other. In games, the result of one play cannot be foretold; in war, the
+result of one battle cannot be foretold. In games and in war the general
+result can be foretold; in the one there will be a balance and in the
+other there will be destruction. Even the winner in war is ruined
+morally, just as is the gambler."
+
+"And can you foretell the result of this war?"
+
+"Conditionally."
+
+"How conditionally?"
+
+"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her people
+become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of her nominal
+success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must suffer largely,
+just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for the crime of
+yesterday."
+
+"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."
+
+"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but certainly
+useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove salutary for
+your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to war must learn
+from misfortune."
+
+"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a change in
+generals?"
+
+"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship, and that
+is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned. The advance
+should not have been made, but he was ordered to make it. We now know
+that Beauregard's army was reënforced by Johnston's; it was impossible
+not to see that it could be so reënforced, as the Confederates had the
+interior line. The real fault in the campaign is not McDowell's. His
+plan was scientific; his battle was better planned than was his
+antagonist's; he outgeneralled Beauregard clearly, and failed only
+because of a fact that is going to be impressed frequently upon the
+Northern mind in this war; that fact is that the Southern troops do not
+know when they are beaten. McDowell defeated Beauregard, so far as those
+two are concerned; but his army failed, and he must be sacrificed; the
+North ought, however, to sacrifice the army."
+
+"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially unjust and
+narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you cannot do what you
+know to be just. You act under compulsion, having yielded your freedom.
+A losing general is sacrificed, regardless of his real merit."
+
+"Was it so in Washington's case?"
+
+"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been, defeated at
+Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed, the colonies had
+given up the struggle."
+
+"And independence would have been lost?"
+
+"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American independence."
+
+For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most of it,
+and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views of the
+immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He rose at last,
+and left me thinking of his strange personality and wondering why,
+holding such views, be should throw his energies into either side.
+
+He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He waited as
+I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said for answer, as
+if still thinking of our conversation:--
+
+"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine circumstances
+in which your peculiar powers of memory would accomplish more genuine
+good than could a thousand bayonets; good night."
+
+Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter. Then, I lay
+down, oppressed with thought.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE USES OF INFIRMITY
+
+     "There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;
+     The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;
+     What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
+     On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."
+
+    --BROWNING.
+
+The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The Doctor
+said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's house in
+Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request that I should
+come to see him.
+
+"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the Doctor, "and
+if you do not object I shall drive you down."
+
+On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of the
+capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia hills
+and was intrenching rapidly. Reënforcements were being hurried to
+Washington, and a new call for volunteers would at once be made. General
+McClellan would arrive in a few days; much was expected of his ability
+to create and discipline an army.
+
+"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr. Khayme;
+"it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have practically a
+leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure that rest will do you
+good. By the way, President Lincoln will visit the troops at Arlington
+to-day; if you like, I shall be glad to take you over."
+
+I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my desire to
+return to my post of duty as soon as possible.
+
+We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions and then
+passed into the office.
+
+Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I should be a
+prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a friend, or when it is
+in his power to do you a service."
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two. What shall
+I say to the boys for you?"
+
+"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already. The
+surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks at the
+outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"
+
+"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not seen
+their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a good many
+wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river, and I have not
+seen a man of the company except you. I am very anxious."
+
+"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it will be
+some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer man, Jones; I
+believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter who came in here
+last night?"
+
+"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"
+
+"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment I
+thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should ever
+again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to Dr. Khayme
+once more about this matter. Although he had advised me in Charleston
+never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last night, referred to
+it himself.
+
+"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for you?"
+
+"No, I think not."
+
+"You are able to write your own letters?"
+
+"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."
+
+"Well, good-by."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones. I'll be
+with the boys again before long."
+
+In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the Doctor and
+Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of her promise to
+tell me something about her life in the East.
+
+"Where shall I begin?" she asked,
+
+"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left Charleston."
+
+"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any thought of
+going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get ready for a
+long journey."
+
+"When was that?" I asked.
+
+"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation, and a good
+while after you left."
+
+"It must have been in September, then."
+
+"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."
+
+"I suppose you were very glad to go."
+
+"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so suddenly
+that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that grieved me."
+
+"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"
+
+"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."
+
+"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"
+
+"Yes; she died while we were in India."
+
+"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"
+
+"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to
+Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not more
+than an hour or two."
+
+"How long did you stay in Paris?"
+
+"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us for two
+or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for Bombay."
+
+"And so you were in India most of the time while you were abroad?"
+
+"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."
+
+"In Bombay?"
+
+"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the time."
+
+"Did you go to school?"
+
+"Yes," she said, smiling.
+
+Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the trees. I
+told him of my wish to return to my company.
+
+"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.
+
+"I think I am fit for duty," said I.
+
+"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.
+
+"Then why are you reluctant?"
+
+"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a
+narrower risk than your condition now would show."
+
+"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"
+
+"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might; the
+weather is very warm."
+
+"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard on me."
+
+"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your depression has
+gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not oppose your going."
+
+I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do you
+remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think it
+advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of them?"
+
+"Yes," he replied,
+
+"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar powers."
+
+"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of them."
+
+"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a
+recurrence of my trouble?"
+
+"I had at least suspected it."
+
+"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.
+
+"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted. Then,
+with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything is relative;
+your memory, taking it generally, is better than that of some, and
+poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your peculiar periods,
+it is in some features far stronger than the average memory, and in
+other features it is weaker; have you not known this?"
+
+"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is definite,
+if it has been formed in a lapse."
+
+"But in respect to other matters than objects?"
+
+"You mean as to thought?"
+
+"Yes--speculation."
+
+"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation, that is,
+anything not an established fact."
+
+"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article written
+to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it in one of your
+'states'?"
+
+"Not at all," said I.
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question; would you
+remember it?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a seceded
+State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth of the
+controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your 'states,' remember
+the discussion?"
+
+"No; certainly not."
+
+"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the period
+affected by your memory?"
+
+"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."
+
+"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your 'states,'
+toward unsettled questions."
+
+"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the other."
+
+"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed question?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an opinion
+upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it from new
+material, or repeated material, of thought."
+
+"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow you are
+in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw a
+conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when you have
+recovered the chain of your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"
+
+"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the fact
+that I had formerly decided the matter."
+
+"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made while in
+a lapse?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people call them,
+would still be undoubted?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you when you
+recover?"
+
+"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they were
+present."
+
+"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one period
+you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful you gain in
+intensity of fact?"
+
+"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one causes
+the gain of the other."
+
+"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your faculty is
+quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You know that the
+hearing of the blind is very acute."
+
+"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good thing."
+
+"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater value than
+sight?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one who could
+see."
+
+"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind nor deaf,
+nor am I a scout."
+
+"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value at one
+time than another."
+
+"Oh, yes; I suppose so."
+
+"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a moment that
+there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout; I have merely
+instanced a possible case in which hearing is more valuable than sight,
+and we have agreed that memory is worth, more at times than at other
+times. I should like to relieve you, moreover, of any fears that you,
+may have in regard to the continuance of your infirmity--as you insist
+on thinking it. Cases like yours always recover."
+
+"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique," said I;
+"but I thought he said it only to comfort me."
+
+"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have such
+cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer. Averroes himself
+clearly refers to such a case."
+
+"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the sound of
+his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well with,
+our people."
+
+"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your own
+prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by John on
+Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less wonderful
+than, yours."
+
+"They were miracles," said I.
+
+"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without waiting for
+me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and do happen every
+year to men's minds than this which has happened to yours; men lose
+their minds utterly for a time, and then recover their faculties
+entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men can be changed in an
+hour, by the use of a drug, into different creatures, if we are to judge
+by the record their own consciousness gives them."
+
+"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me without
+a drug and in a moment."
+
+"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic records
+which will forever relieve you of the belief that your condition is
+unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it which I hope will
+prove valuable; but as to its being the one only case of the general--"
+
+"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I
+interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell me why
+you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness of the
+condition at the same time. If the condition may prove useful, why
+change it?"
+
+"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously, "there
+are many things in nature which show their greatest worth only at the
+moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection of memory is, I
+repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in order that another
+function may be strengthened--and all for a purpose."
+
+"What is that purpose?"
+
+"I cannot tell you."
+
+"Why can you not?"
+
+"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the usefulness
+of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might say, in order
+to encourage you, that it will probably be given to you to serve your
+country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how and when, you must
+leave it to the future to show."
+
+"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my trouble?"
+
+"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my judgment,
+require that your recovery should follow the period concerning which
+your factitious memory is brightest."
+
+"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable way?" I
+said, wondering.
+
+"Wait," said he.
+
+The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on duty this
+night. She had listened gravely to what had been said. Now she looked up
+with a faint smile, which I thought meant that she was willing for me to
+talk to her and yet reluctant to be the first to speak, not knowing
+whether I had need of silence. I had begun to have a high opinion of
+Lydia's character.
+
+"And you went to school in Bombay?"
+
+"Yes, at first."
+
+I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I suppose
+my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently continued.
+
+"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know that I am a
+nurse with some training. Father was very willing for me to become a
+nurse, for he said that there would be war in America, and that nurses
+would be needed."
+
+Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick asked me
+to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I was unable to
+tell him."
+
+"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.
+
+I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the very day on
+which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not return to
+Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my affliction disturbed
+me so that I could not readily continue my part of the conversation,
+and Lydia soon retired.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report to my
+company."
+
+"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience; I shall
+see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this part of the
+country for a long time, and it will not be difficult for you to get
+leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I am thinking of
+moving our camp nearer to you."
+
+
+
+VII
+
+A SECOND DISASTER
+
+     "Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.
+     And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard, and picket
+duty and digging.
+
+The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's quarters were a
+mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent visitor at his tents.
+After Willis's return to duty, which was in November, he and I spent
+much of our spare time at the Sanitary camp. It was easy to see what
+attracted Jake. It did not seem to me that Dr. Khayme gave much thought
+to the sergeant, but Lydia gravely received his adoration silently
+offered, and so conducted herself in his presence that I was puzzled
+greatly concerning their relations. I frequently wondered why the
+sergeant did not confide in me; we had become very intimate, so that in
+everything, except his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom
+friend, so to speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.
+
+One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the Doctor's
+tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be with us. The
+Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation, however, at his
+pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I wondered if it could be
+because of Willis's absence. It seemed to me impossible that this
+dignified woman could entertain a passion for the sergeant, who, while
+of course a very manly fellow, and a thorough soldier in his way,
+surely was not on a level with Miss Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew
+and felt keenly that until my peculiar mental phases should leave me
+never to return, love and marriage were impossible--so the very truth
+was, and always had been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any
+incipient desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition
+encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own mind,
+and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated until--I
+suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern myself, I
+drew back from every obstacle which my judgment pronounced
+insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help to me in this
+development of the will, and especially in that phase or exercise of it
+called self-control; one of his common sayings was, "He who resists the
+inevitable increases evil."
+
+Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance, Dr.
+Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect to me,
+and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many times in our
+recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was the man's insight.
+The power that he exercised over me I submitted to gratefully; I felt
+that he was a man well fitted for counselling youth, and I had so many
+proofs of his good-will, even of his affection, that I trusted him fully
+in regard to myself; yet, with all this, I felt that his great
+knowledge, and especially his wonderful alertness of judgment, which
+amounted in many cases seemingly to prophetic power almost, were
+doubtful quantities in relation to the war. I believed that he was
+admitted to high council; I had frequent glimpses of
+intimations--seemingly unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand
+circumstances and projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow,
+from a look, or a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached
+the opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the
+contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety. The
+news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the heart of
+the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no distress, to
+judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it is but just to
+repeat that he showed great interest in every event directly relating to
+the existence of slavery. He commended the acts of General Butler in
+Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri, and hoped that the Southern
+leaders would impress all able-bodied slaves into some sort of service,
+so that they would become at least morally subject to the act of
+Congress, approved August 6, which declared all such persons discharged
+from previous servitude. In comparing my own attitude to the war with
+the Doctor's, I frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union,
+and I cared everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human
+slavery, while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that
+matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the Congress
+or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery without the
+consent of the party of the first part. I was in the war not on account
+of slavery, certainly, but on account of the preservation of the Union;
+Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he was in it at all--not for the
+Union, but for the abolition of slavery.
+
+On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and occasionally
+gave utterance to some thought.
+
+"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West; Grant
+advances."
+
+"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my reply.
+
+"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has the help
+of the navy."
+
+"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.
+
+"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove insufficient; if
+the North succeeds in this war, and I see no reason to doubt her success
+if she will but determine to succeed, it will be through her navy."
+
+I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat looking
+dreamily at the door of the stove.
+
+After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February is a
+spring month in the South."
+
+The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are bad."
+
+"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"
+
+"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he gets the
+help of the navy."
+
+"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"
+
+"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.
+
+I had already heard some talk of differences between our general and the
+President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac to Fortress
+Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance on Richmond by the
+Peninsular route, as it was called.
+
+"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at least," he
+added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well convinced of it that I
+shall make preparation at once to remove my camp to some good place near
+Fort Monroe."
+
+This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress. What I
+should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not know; I
+should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my friends sadly.
+
+"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him and
+looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.
+
+"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe we can
+take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your regiment."
+
+Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I wished for a
+chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw none.
+
+"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I should
+like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of absence?"
+
+"Where there is a will there is a way."
+
+"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and to
+spare."
+
+"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"
+
+"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble, unless
+things change very greatly meanwhile."
+
+I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The weather was
+mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk somewhat
+carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled and fell, and
+bruised my back.
+
+The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely cold. A
+bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow and rain and
+sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating with four hours'
+relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six o'clock, when I was
+finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I reached my quarters, I
+went to bed at once and fell into a half sleep.
+
+Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me, with his
+hand on my temples.
+
+"You have had too much of it," said he.
+
+I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great pain
+followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.
+
+The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but dreaded
+that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being occupied by
+four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my messmates except
+Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The surgeon of the
+Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.
+
+For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every day--on
+some days several times. Lydia never came.
+
+One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a litter and
+borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My father came. This
+was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They became greatly attached.
+
+My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me whenever he
+was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to simple care, in which
+Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read to me at times--but for
+short times, as the Doctor forbade my prolonged attention, I was not
+quite sure that Lydia was doing me good; I liked the sound of her voice,
+yet when she would cease reading I felt more nervous than before, and I
+could not remember what she had read. So far as I could see, there was
+no understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that I
+saw them together.
+
+One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us that he
+would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good hands," said he,
+"and my business demands my care; I shall always have you in
+remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."
+
+The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows
+and blankets.
+
+"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever since he
+received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has been my
+best friend."
+
+"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a letter,"
+said my father.
+
+"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in which
+you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor gave me the
+letter; I have it at home, somewhere."
+
+The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.
+
+Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and battles
+in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been kept from you.
+On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry, which success led ten
+days later to the surrender of Buckner's army at Fort Donelson."
+
+"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the last time
+I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked about Grant's
+coming successes!"
+
+"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the Doctor.
+
+"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he certainly
+would not fail."
+
+"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.
+
+On the day following that on which my father left us, I was sitting in a
+folding chair, trying to read for the first time since my illness began.
+
+Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my boy," said
+he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."
+
+"Go where, Doctor?"
+
+"To Fort Monroe," said he.
+
+"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"
+
+"Yes, we'll go."
+
+"What are we going there for?"
+
+"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"
+
+"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"
+
+"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General
+McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort Monroe,
+and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."
+
+"Yes, I begin to remember."
+
+"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's urgent
+arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as transportation can be
+provided for such an operation; it will take weeks yet."
+
+"And you are going to move down there?"
+
+"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to go with
+me; don't you want to go?"
+
+"Yes; that I do," said I.
+
+"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said the
+Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready for duty by
+the time your regiment comes."
+
+Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on, but she
+came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was certainly
+pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were brighter. She began
+at once to get together some loose things, although we had several days
+in which to make our preparations. I could not keep from laughing at
+her; at the same time I felt that my amusement was caused by her
+willingness to get away for a time from the army, rather than by
+anything else.
+
+"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.
+
+"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have the habit
+of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry and fluster when
+the time comes." Her face was very bright.
+
+"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said I.
+
+She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to
+severity, and she went out.
+
+That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we were to
+go; he was very blank.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched near
+Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me. I sat
+outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the help of the
+Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat unwillingly--I
+walked a little. These were happy days; I had nothing to do but to
+convalesce. The Southern climate has always helped me. I was
+recovering fast.
+
+I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we talked of
+everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to both of us,
+though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with his advanced
+thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its probable results.
+
+"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be
+preserved."
+
+I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though I had
+had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear this
+speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North, and I
+felt relieved.
+
+"Continue," I begged.
+
+"You know that I have said many times that the war is unnecessary; that
+all war is crime."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a crime and
+must be suppressed."
+
+"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."
+
+"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both these views
+are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime: these are two
+truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and say that the North
+is right and the South is right."
+
+"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince me that
+both of these statements can be true."
+
+"Well, are you ready to listen?"
+
+"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are right?
+Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are speaking of
+crime, not virtue."
+
+"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are speaking; but
+in regard to the principles upon which they seem to differ, they are
+right, and these are what I wish to speak of."
+
+"Well, I listen, Doctor."
+
+"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power than
+General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even eternal,
+purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the power is
+infinite."
+
+"I follow you."
+
+"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it purpose
+what it will not execute."
+
+"Please illustrate, Doctor."
+
+"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of making a
+world should make a comet."
+
+"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen to be in
+a fair way of becoming a world."
+
+"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or failure."
+
+"Yes; I see, or think I do."
+
+"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and slavery a
+crime. Two truths cannot clash."
+
+"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery into
+existence, and war, also?"
+
+"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules and works
+beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns them into means
+for advancing His cause."
+
+"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true. But I do
+not see how the South can be right."
+
+"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?" asked
+Lydia, suddenly.
+
+It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the beach.
+
+"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they see
+something that interests them."
+
+Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the wind
+blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us were looking
+intently through their field-glasses.
+
+"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I return."
+
+We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a glass; he
+looked, and came back to us rapidly.
+
+"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a glass," said
+he.
+
+"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.
+
+"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.
+
+"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she will."
+
+"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.
+
+"No; what do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron steamer
+which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she replied.
+
+"Iron?"
+
+"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with iron,
+so that it cannot be injured."
+
+"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships remain here?"
+
+The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a vessel
+off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia took the
+glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the _Merrimac!_ what a
+strange-looking ship!"
+
+The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the shore were
+fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed, throughout the
+prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and, to all seeming,
+emotionless.
+
+Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With the
+unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of them were
+but a very short distance from us.
+
+The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until I
+needed rest; I sat on the ground.
+
+Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three ships
+moving up toward the two which were near us.
+
+The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The design of
+the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe between.
+
+The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large roof,
+with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward Fortress Monroe.
+
+Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships near
+Newport News.
+
+The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft; the
+batteries on shore turned loose on her.
+
+Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She was used
+to wounds, but had never before seen battle.
+
+From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down some
+smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too small to
+count for much.
+
+Suddenly the _Merrimac_ fired one gun, still moving on toward our last
+ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and on, and on, and
+struck our ship with her prow, and backed.
+
+The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats kept up
+their fire.
+
+The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which was now
+endeavouring to get away. The _Merrimac_ fired upon her, gun after gun.
+
+Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to fire.
+
+The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she sank, with
+her guns firing as she went down.
+
+Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The Doctor
+observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed heavily, but
+did not speak.
+
+The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship aground; and
+white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.
+
+Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore batteries,
+and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to prevent the
+capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the great craft fired
+again and again into the surrendered vessel, and set her afire.
+
+Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also was
+aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.
+
+The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until she was
+lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning ship was a sheet
+of flame; we could see men leap from her deck; boats put off from
+the shore.
+
+"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.
+
+"I want no food," said I.
+
+"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better when you
+have eaten," he replied.
+
+Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.
+
+Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with excitement,
+gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white. I heard one say,
+"My God! what will become of the _Minnesota_ to-morrow?"
+
+The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have failed.
+
+The burning _Congress_ threw around us a light brighter than the moon;
+each of us had two shadows.
+
+We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so calm?"
+
+"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse;
+besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."
+
+"What is to prevent the _Merrimac_ from destroying our whole fleet and
+then destroying our coast?"
+
+"God!" said Dr. Khayme.
+
+Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in my life
+than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not permit me to
+go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the camps I knew that
+my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, that my experience in
+war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull Run had been but the first
+horror; here was another and possibly a worse one. The East seemed
+propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, of our side, could gain
+victories.
+
+The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense smoke crept
+along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, I knew, was being
+made to get the _Minnesota_ off; nobody could have slept that night.
+
+The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he came in
+finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and now came
+in also.
+
+"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"
+
+"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."
+
+Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.
+
+"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something to
+relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"
+
+"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the better."
+
+"Well, then, the _Merrimac_ will meet her match if she comes out
+to-morrow."
+
+"What do you mean, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the _Merrimac,_
+has arrived."
+
+Lydia left the tent.
+
+I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly. I
+started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head, and
+gently pressed me back to my pillow.
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE TWO SOUTHS
+
+     "Yet spake yon purple mountain,
+       Yet said yon ancient wood,
+     That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,
+       Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON
+
+About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to shake
+the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled dreams.
+
+I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were ranked
+against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of the
+soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in the other
+army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no soldier could say
+which flags were his. The men intermingled and fought, and, not able to
+know enemy from friend, slew friend and enemy, and slew until but two
+opponents remained; these two shook hands, and laughed, and I saw their
+faces; and the face of one was the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of
+the other I did not know.
+
+Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had dreamed
+true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were false. In my
+ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I had judged that it
+would be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true.
+So this dream passed for the time from my mind.
+
+We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. Lydia
+looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we expected a
+trial to our nerves.
+
+After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we
+went to a sand-hill near the beach.
+
+To the south of the _Minnesota_ now lay a peculiar vessel. No one had
+ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a
+big round cistern--such as are seen in the South and West--amidships,
+and a very big box or barrel on one end.
+
+The _Merrimac_ was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the
+batteries and on the dunes.
+
+The _Monitor_ remained near the _Minnesota_; the _Merrimac_ came on.
+From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the
+sound of heavy guns. The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every
+manoeuvre could be seen.
+
+The _Merrimac_ looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the
+other was quicker.
+
+They fought for hours, the _Merrimac_ slowly moving past the _Monitor_
+and firing many guns, the _Monitor_ turning quickly and seeming to fire
+but seldom. Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.
+
+At last they parted; the _Monitor_ steamed toward the shore, and the
+great _Merrimac_ headed southward and went away into the distance.
+
+Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little
+group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on
+the issue of the contest depended vast results.
+
+When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not
+tell whether our side had won, but I know that the _Merrimac_ had hauled
+off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of
+us knew. At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the
+_Merrimac_ blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my
+mind the fight had been very unequal.
+
+"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, "and now
+McClellan's army can come without fear."
+
+"Do you think," I asked, "that the _Merrimac_ is so badly done up that
+she will not try it again?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is damaged; but
+of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she could have fought
+longer with hope of victory, she would not have retired; her retreat
+means that she has renounced her best hope."
+
+The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in nearly
+two days. She was still very serious, however. She had become accustomed
+in hospital work to some of the results of battle; now she had witnessed
+war itself.
+
+After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the navy
+would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our fleet that
+would give us a final preponderance over the South.
+
+"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a stupendous
+undertaking could well be."
+
+"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times," said I.
+
+"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more
+restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend upon
+their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."
+
+"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said Lydia.
+
+"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially, thinks
+clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing about states'
+rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though, beats true on the
+slavery question; England will never recognize the South."
+
+"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?" I
+asked,
+
+"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not believe
+that, I should feel no interest in this war."
+
+"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no intention
+of interfering with slavery."
+
+"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been avoided;
+but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar institution
+of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of slavery in the
+South, England would recognize the South. England has no political love
+for the United States, and would not lament greatly the dissolution of
+the Union. The North will be compelled to extinguish slavery in order to
+prevent England from recognizing the South. The Union cannot now be
+preserved except on condition of freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I
+am willing to compromise with you; I am for saving the Union in order to
+destroy slavery, and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order
+to save the Union!
+
+"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will succeed
+unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by constitutional
+means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation; you see how one
+crime always leads to another."
+
+"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for slavery only,
+whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is fighting for
+self-government."
+
+"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is fighting for
+slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. But when we say
+'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we mean. There are two
+Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and their slaves; the other
+is the common people. There never was a greater absurdity taught than
+that which Northern writers and newspapers have spread to the effect
+that in the South there is no middle class. The middle class _is_ the
+South. This is the South that is right and wholesome and strong. The
+North may defeat the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat
+it; but never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
+which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of truth if
+not the fulness of it.
+
+"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in her
+present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also the North
+is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.
+
+"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will go
+down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, the North
+will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not do it. The
+Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and undeveloped, must
+prevail instead of the Southern idea of individual freedom; but how
+prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that war in which ideas prevail is
+not fought with force. Artillery accomplishes naught. I can fancy a
+battlefield where two great armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on
+this side and on that side are uniformed alike and their flags are
+alike, but they kill each other till none remains, and nothing is
+accomplished except destruction; yet the principle for which each fought
+remains, though all are dead."
+
+For a time I was speechless.
+
+At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and flags
+alike?"
+
+He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their cause,
+and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."
+
+"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.
+
+
+
+IX
+
+KILLING TIME
+
+     "Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent
+with her father.
+
+Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my
+old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody could say
+when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, found roomy
+locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off at Yorktown, and
+with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the country up to our
+pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the Doctor's company time would
+have been heavy on my hands.
+
+About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but no
+Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his camp
+until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that there would
+be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer to Richmond.
+
+On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was willing to
+serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh should come.
+
+"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a few days,"
+he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the troops now here
+are more than are needed, except for future work. Besides, you might do
+better. You have good eyes, and a good memory as long as it lasts; you
+might make a secret examination of the Confederate lines."
+
+"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.
+
+"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"
+
+"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."
+
+"Well, think of it," said he.
+
+"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
+exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did not
+wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I liked the
+thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning the positions
+and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my school days, and
+afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting stories with, eagerness,
+and had worshipped his Witherspoon.
+
+"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.
+
+"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
+possible."
+
+"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to send you
+off properly."
+
+When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by the
+Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But she said
+little, and I could only infer that she might be creating in her brain
+false dangers for a friend.
+
+By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything was ready
+for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober suit of gray
+clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might deceive the eye
+at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate the wearer from any
+suspicion that he was seriously offering himself as a Confederate.
+
+"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it will fit
+you well enough."
+
+It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, purposely,
+had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave me also a
+black felt hat.
+
+"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I answered.
+
+"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial things
+such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be searched nothing
+can be proved. Leave all your money in bills behind; coin will not be
+bad to take; here are a few Confederate notes for you."
+
+"Do I need a pass?"
+
+"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
+Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I
+want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass would
+betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be
+difficult to explain at headquarters."
+
+"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"
+
+"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't know when
+you will get another meal."
+
+At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and reach
+before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, which was
+believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry Island, or Mulberry
+Point; I would then watch for opportunities, and act accordingly, with
+the view of following up the rebel line, or as near to it as possible.
+
+I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon outside the
+guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due north by the
+Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was glad of it. The
+stars gave me enough light. My road was good, level, sandy--a lane
+between two rail fences almost hidden with vines and briers. At my left
+and behind me I could hear the roar of the surf.
+
+When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead, I
+stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our men, or
+rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into a fence
+corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I waited until
+they had passed out of sight, and then rose to continue my tramp, when
+suddenly, before I had made a step, another horseman rode by, following
+the others. If he had looked in my direction, he would have seen me; but
+he passed on with his head straight to the front. I supposed that this
+last man was on duty as the rear of the squad.
+
+Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The party
+of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, and that I
+should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely cautious in going
+forward, not knowing how soon I might run against some scouting party of
+the rebels.
+
+The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy and
+mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small growth.
+The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from studying the
+map before I had set out I had some idea of the general character of the
+country at my right, as well as a pretty accurate notion of the distance
+I must make before I should come near to the first rebel post; though,
+of course, I could not know that such post had not been abandoned, or
+advanced even, within the last few hours.
+
+I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and straight
+ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My senses were alert;
+I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I felt that I was alone
+and dependent upon myself, but the feeling was not greatly oppressive.
+
+Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence running at
+a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not continued to the
+left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence was the junction of
+the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly seen before I started
+that at this junction there was danger of finding a rebel outpost, or of
+falling upon a rebel scouting party, I now became still more cautious,
+moving along half bent on the edge of the road, and at last creeping on
+my hands and knees until I reached the junction.
+
+There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward Little
+Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found nothing, and
+returned to the junction; then continued up the road toward Young's
+Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited frequently by the rebels,
+and my attention became so fixed that I started at the slightest noise.
+The sand's crunching under my feet sounded like the puffing of a
+locomotive. The wind made a slight rippling with the ends of the tie on
+my hat-band, I cut the ends off, to be relieved of the distraction.
+
+I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as well as
+to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to Bethel, at my rear
+and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk into a fence corner, and
+lay perfectly still, listening with all my ears. The noise increased; it
+was clear that horsemen from the Bethel road were coming into the
+junction, a hundred yards in my rear.
+
+The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.
+
+But _had_ they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down the road
+toward Newport News.
+
+Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the hoof-beats
+of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into my fence corner
+and lay flat and still.
+
+It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when life is
+about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant all the deeds
+of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know, at least, that my
+mind had many thoughts in the situation in which I now found myself.
+
+I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were rebels.
+
+They were now but a few yards off.
+
+An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would discover me.
+
+If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen would
+ride me down at once.
+
+If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky, would be
+a mark for many carbines.
+
+If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.
+
+But what could I expect from my companion?
+
+Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had the
+rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were they
+pursuing him?
+
+But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the direction
+of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he not hidden.
+
+If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be to lie
+still.
+
+Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were rebels.
+
+But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If he was
+one of theirs, should I lie still?
+
+No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot at.
+
+If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case, my
+unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let the troops
+pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet of me.
+
+Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel, still the
+question remained whether he had seen me.
+
+It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was a log?
+Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a place;
+there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify the
+existence of a log in this place.
+
+All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while the
+horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces more, I
+had come to a decision.
+
+I had decided to lie still.
+
+There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get away. I
+would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a friend, my case
+might be better than before; if he should prove to be an enemy, I must
+act prudently and try to befool him. I must discover his intentions
+before making mine known. He, also, must be in a great quandary.
+
+The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told whether
+they were from the North or the South by their voices, but they did
+not speak.
+
+There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and, indeed, I
+did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to the ground.
+
+The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.
+
+Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my companion. I was
+right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else he would now rise and
+go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he did not speak; what was the
+matter with him?
+
+But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me, just as I
+was fearing him.
+
+But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was hiding
+from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?
+
+But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his hiding in
+a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the observation of the
+horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence corner was an accident.
+
+Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do something? He
+has no reason to fear me.
+
+But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads
+everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave him.
+
+But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot speak
+to a man who flees and hides? I _will_ speak to him--
+
+"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.
+
+I sat bolt upright; so did he.
+
+"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what is your name?"
+
+"My name Nick."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"
+
+"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."
+
+"You are hiding from the soldiers."
+
+"What sojers, mahsa?"
+
+Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not yet
+know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The night was
+cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had been warm, but
+now I was getting chilly.
+
+Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a
+supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave who
+does not wish to be free is an impossibility.
+
+"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa."
+
+"Then, why did you hide from them?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes; why did you run and hide?"
+
+"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."
+
+This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I must be
+the first to declare myself.
+
+"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say rebels,
+but thought better of it; the word would declare my sympathies. I was
+not so ready, after all.
+
+"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"
+
+Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted negro.
+
+"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."
+
+"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"
+
+Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so. I knew
+that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp servants,
+slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be trustworthy. Who
+could know, after all, that there were no exceptions amongst slaves? My
+doubts became so keen that I should not have believed Nick on his oath.
+He might tell me a lie with the purpose of leading me into a rebel
+camp. I must get rid of him somehow.
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"
+
+"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."
+
+"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a little?"
+
+I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose tobacco in
+one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not know.
+
+"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick hesitated,
+
+"A what?"
+
+"A good man," said Nick.
+
+"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."
+
+"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"
+
+"I want to see some people up there."
+
+Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him into
+the Southern lines? It looked so.
+
+The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might betray me.
+His hesitation was assuring.
+
+I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some people up the
+road."
+
+"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."
+
+"Do you think they will come back soon?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."
+
+"Didn't you come from up the road?"
+
+"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"
+
+This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it; and to
+give him as good.
+
+"Do Southern officers carry guns?"
+
+"You Southern officer, mahsa?"
+
+"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't you know
+that, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.
+
+"What is it, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."
+
+"What makes you think so, Nick?"
+
+"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on lak you
+is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back to dem
+breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or I'll have you
+strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."
+
+Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be feared. He
+was willing for me to believe that he had run away from the
+Confederates.
+
+"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are enough
+niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like to give you
+a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.
+
+"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"
+
+"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"
+
+"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"
+
+"Go up the road with me," said I.
+
+Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted to
+betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his silence
+to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say, that he
+wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I felt so sure
+of this that I should not have been surprised if he had suddenly set out
+running down the road; yet I supposed that he was still in doubt of my
+character and feared a pistol-shot from me. He was silent so long that I
+fully made up my mind that I could trust him a little.
+
+"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern officer nor
+a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to go to Fortress
+Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first; if you serve me
+well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one day, and I'll make
+it worth your while."
+
+"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me how to
+see the breastworks and not be seen myself."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"
+
+It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he think it
+out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern soldier?
+
+"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will give
+you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you another
+dollar and a chance to make more."
+
+Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the sequel
+showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally, he said
+that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I felt in my
+pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at once closed
+the bargain.
+
+"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be faithful, and
+I will give you another before dark to-morrow."
+
+"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Where is the first Confederate post?"
+
+"You mean dem Southern sojers?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine _up_ de road, or dem dat's fust
+a-comin' _down_ de road?"
+
+"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.
+
+"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.
+
+"Did you see them?"
+
+"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."
+
+"How did you keep them from seeing you?"
+
+"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."
+
+"How long ago was it since you saw them?"
+
+"Sence sundown," said Nick,
+
+"When did you leave the breastworks?"
+
+"Las' night."
+
+"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"
+
+"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might strak
+up wid 'em."
+
+"How far have you come in all?"
+
+"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber swamp all
+day."
+
+"Did you have anything to eat?"
+
+"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."
+
+"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"
+
+"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to eat?"
+
+"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."
+
+"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is almos'
+all done gone to Richmon' er summers[1] en' I don't know w'at we's
+a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do fer sum'hm
+to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer 'bacco nudda."
+
+[1] Somewhere [Ed.].
+
+"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect you to
+find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for it."
+
+We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.
+
+"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it as I
+can get without being seen."
+
+"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.
+
+"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the breastworks. First,
+I want to go to Young's Mill."
+
+"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de yudda
+one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."
+
+"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.
+
+"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep dis
+straight road."
+
+"But we must not show ourselves," said I.
+
+"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda; des'
+you follow me."
+
+Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a mile, then
+northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the road again.
+
+"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun' de fust
+ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got aroun' 'em,
+'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em agin."
+
+"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"
+
+"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.
+
+We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean death. We
+went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way at a rapid and
+long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in sight. The night was
+getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and there were dense clumps
+of small trees; at the little watercourses there was larger growth. The
+roar of the sea was heard no longer. It must have been about midnight.
+
+We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed ours.
+
+"Stop a little, Nick," said I.
+
+Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a hundred
+yards in every direction.
+
+"Where does that road go?" I asked.
+
+"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole Young's
+Mill."
+
+"How far is old Young's Mill?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+"Where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis Cheeseman's dey is
+calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry, but dey is on de yudda
+side o' de creek."
+
+"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road running
+almost west; a church stood on the other side of the road.
+
+"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to Worrick."
+
+"And where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.
+
+"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.
+
+"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off, nudda."
+
+We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick was
+telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was still
+before my mind's eye.
+
+"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I asked.
+
+"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.
+
+"How far this side?"
+
+"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"
+
+"How near can we get to the picket-line?"
+
+"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut down."
+
+"The trees cut down in their front?"
+
+"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."
+
+"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"
+
+"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun' de
+pon'."
+
+"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the
+picket-line?"
+
+"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de picket-line, en'
+de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en' all."
+
+"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your eyes wide
+open."
+
+Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he turned to
+the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and crossed a
+creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see in the darkness
+a great deal better than I could; where I should have groped my way, had
+I been alone, he went boldly enough, putting his foot down flat as
+though he could see where he was stepping. Nick said that there were no
+soldiers in these woods and swamps; they were all on the road and at
+Young's Mill, now a mile at our left.
+
+At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very tired; but,
+not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we should wait by the
+side of the road for a while, to see if any soldiers should pass. We sat
+in the bushes; soon Nick was on his back, asleep, and I was not sorry to
+see him go to sleep so quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have
+done so if he had meant to betray me.
+
+I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single horseman
+came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his sabre
+rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had died away,
+I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At last Nick stopped.
+
+"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.
+
+"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.
+
+"Again? Have we gone wrong?"
+
+"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he
+repeated.
+
+"Where are we?"
+
+"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den w'at you
+gwine to do?"
+
+"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and know how
+many they are."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine to do?"
+
+"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward
+Yorktown."
+
+"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin' out in de
+woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout noth'n' to eat."
+
+"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get an hour
+or two of sleep without freezing?"
+
+"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's w'at you
+gwine to do; come on."
+
+He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through woods, then a
+field, and came to a farmhouse,
+
+"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that house."
+
+"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to Richmon' er
+summers."
+
+The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the place.
+
+Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed up into
+the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose hay in the
+loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick promise to be awake
+before sunrise, for I feared the place would be visited by the rebels.
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE LINE OF THE WARWICK
+
+     "Thus are poor servitors,
+     While others sleep upon their quiet beds,
+     Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."
+    --Shakespeare.
+
+When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep quickly. When
+I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.
+
+I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the sky was
+reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for hours had he
+been alone.
+
+The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food? Useless to
+search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was bare. I asked Nick
+if he could manage in any way to get something to eat. He could not; we
+must starve unless accident should throw food in our way.
+
+A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a long ways
+to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood nor no water."
+
+We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we reached
+it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see dryer
+ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a tree I
+could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the west, with
+the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no movement going
+on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent. I had no
+more tobacco.
+
+I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through the
+woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their line
+crossed the road.
+
+About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of felled
+timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our left. At long
+intervals a man would pass across the road where it struck the
+picket-line.
+
+Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his
+topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line was
+behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an outpost; and
+I was considering whether it would not be best to turn this position on
+the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible, and make for Lee's
+Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient, and see what was above
+that point, when I heard galloping in the road behind us. Nick had heard
+the noise before it reached my ears.
+
+A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and remained
+a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the road toward
+Warwick Court-House.
+
+At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept up as
+near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their knapsacks and
+falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry from down the road;
+they passed through the picket-line, and were soon lost to sight. Then
+the picket marched off up the road. Ten minutes more and half a dozen
+cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of all, I was hoping--and passed on.
+
+The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention of
+getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of
+appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the abandoned
+line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we crawled
+through the felled timber.
+
+The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over the ground
+were the remains of straw beds; some brush arbours--improvised
+shelters--were standing; we found enough broken pieces of hardtack to
+relieve our most pressing want.
+
+I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended within two
+hundred yards of the road.
+
+"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this direction?"
+pointing northwest.
+
+"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said Nick.
+
+"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"
+
+"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."
+
+"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"
+
+"You mean 'long here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is some
+mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de riber, whah
+Lee's Mill is."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Hit's mos' fo' mile."
+
+"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Riber is deep down below de mill."
+
+"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.
+
+"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."
+
+"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."
+
+"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at de Pint."
+
+"Up at what Point?"
+
+"Up at de Mulberry Pint."
+
+"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"
+
+"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."
+
+Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the withdrawal
+of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main line beyond the
+Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach the river and follow
+it up--since the rebel line was on its other bank or beyond--I decided
+to let Nick go.
+
+"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more now."
+
+"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"
+
+"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will attend
+closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night, are
+you not?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for me. Will
+you do it?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the rebels catch
+you."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet some Union
+soldiers; then you will be safe."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the rebel
+camp. I gave the paper to Nick.
+
+"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the captain."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must tell him
+that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick Court-House, and that the
+paper is to let him know it."
+
+"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I won't do
+noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."
+
+"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to you."
+
+Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.
+
+My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the Warwick River
+some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits, my cautiousness
+increased, although I expected to find no enemy until I was near the
+mill. I went first as nearly westward as I could know; my purposes were
+to reach the river and roughly ascertain its width and depth; if it
+should be, as Nick had declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth
+would be sufficient protection to the rebels behind it, and I would
+waste no time in examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I
+crept, sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in
+the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either
+crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in the low
+ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left was a cleared
+field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the field a dwelling with
+outhouses. I approached the house, screening myself behind a rail fence.
+The house was deserted. I passed through the yard. There was no sign of
+any living thing, except a pig which scampered away with a loud snort of
+disapproval. The house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows
+were broken, and a mere glance showed me that the place had
+been stripped.
+
+Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the river, for I
+began to fear that I had been rash in coming through the open. Soon I
+struck the river, which here bent in a long curve across the line of my
+march. The river was wide and deep.
+
+At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be little
+need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of this
+unfordable stream.
+
+It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my rear,
+and wondered what could be going on back there.
+
+Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So long as
+I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and the country,
+even away from the river, was much wooded. My knowledge of the map
+placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and northeast I went, but for
+fully three hours I kept on and found no river again. I felt sure that I
+had leaned too far to the east, and was about to turn square to my left
+and seek the river, when I saw before me a smaller stream flowing
+westward. I did not understand. I knew that I had come a much greater
+distance than three miles; I had crossed two large roads running north;
+this stream was not down on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this
+stream was the Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small,
+as Nick had intimated.
+
+I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great angle in
+the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's Mill.
+
+Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam, seemingly
+a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not understand why
+it was there. On the other side of the water, which seemed to be deep,
+though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A road, a narrow country
+road, ran seemingly straight into the water. Only a few steps to my left
+there was an elbow of the road, I moved to this elbow, keeping in the
+bushes, and looked down on the water. There was no sign of a ferry; I
+could see the road where it left the water on the other side, and I
+could see men passing back and forth across the road some two or three
+hundred yards away.
+
+For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the meaning of
+this road's going into deep water. What could it mean? Certainly there
+was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The ordinary needs of the
+country would require a ferry, and there was no ferry. I had looked long
+and closely, and was sure there was no ferry, and was almost as sure
+that there never had been one. The road before my eyes was untravelled;
+the ruts were weeks old, without the sign of a fresh track since the
+last rains; the road was not now used, that was a certainty.
+
+When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear; the road
+had been a good road before the rebels came; when they fortified their
+lines they rendered the road useless. They destroyed the ford by
+building the dam below.
+
+I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of what at
+first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have told me
+offhand all about it.
+
+In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep water. Now,
+thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly see another dam,
+and it was not five minutes before I came in sight of the second dam.
+
+I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of earthworks
+on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed nearly
+straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was. To attack the
+Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our troops could first
+destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.
+
+By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was
+famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get any
+food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about me to see
+if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for not having
+brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain this night near
+the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing that my work was not
+yet done, until the next day; so I must expect many hours of sharp
+hunger unless I could find food.
+
+I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a continuous line
+of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to Yorktown, and all I
+cared to prove was whether that line had its angle at the former place,
+as Nick had declared, and as seemed reasonable to me from every
+consideration. I would, then, make my way carefully down the river to
+Lee's Mill, and if possible finish my work before sunset; but my hunger
+was so great that I thought it advisable to first seek food. So,
+deferring my further progress down the stream, I set out in an easterly
+direction by the road which had crossed previously above the second dam,
+in the hope that this road would lead me to some house where help could
+be found, for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my
+first need.
+
+However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road, walking
+through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another road joining
+it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn from recent use. I
+had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard a noise behind
+me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat behind a bush which
+grew by a fallen tree. Three horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward.
+They passed at a walk, and were talking, but their words could not be
+distinguished. The middle man was riding a gray horse.
+
+About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became less
+dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was what the
+Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a small farmhouse
+with, a few necessary outbuildings.
+
+Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house yard from
+the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with saddles on their
+backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant from the horses, and
+could plainly see a holster in front of one of the saddles.
+
+No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and listened. The
+evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in the west, but the
+sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be an hour or two of
+daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill must be put off till
+the morrow.
+
+A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the well in
+the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail of water. Now
+the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the stamping of heavy
+foot within the house; a moment afterward three men came out and
+approached the horses.
+
+The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his eyes with
+his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling cloud-edge barely
+hid the sun from view. He was looking directly over my head; dropping
+his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This man was nearer to me than
+the others were. I could less distinctly hear the words of the others,
+but when this one got near their horses a conversation was held with the
+woman standing in the doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.
+
+"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse, "yes, I
+reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any more."
+
+"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose words, by
+reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was talking toward
+me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.
+
+"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was astride
+his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks treat you as
+well as us, you may thank your God."
+
+"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to risk 'em
+if God sends 'em."
+
+The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions, shouted
+back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody else!"
+
+"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a parting
+shot.
+
+When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the road, I
+had but little reluctance in going into the house. The woman stared at
+me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye; evidently she did not know
+what to think of me. She said nothing, and stood her ground in the
+middle of the floor.
+
+I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in which
+there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst; then I
+said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have what cold food
+you have in the house."
+
+"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she asked.
+
+"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"
+
+"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most ev'ything I
+had, so I hain't got much."
+
+"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you can."
+
+She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone" of
+corn-bread.
+
+"This is all they is," she said.
+
+"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"
+
+"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."
+
+"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.
+
+She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down to
+Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an' you
+soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel kinder
+skittish."
+
+"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the Yankees
+are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before to-morrow,
+though--maybe not till the day after."
+
+"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but I
+reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."
+
+"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't have run
+off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of them. I don't
+suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop again."
+
+"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop tell they
+git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the mill."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,
+
+She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a mistake.
+
+"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"
+
+"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"
+
+"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."
+
+I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I had made
+another mistake.
+
+"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing her a
+one-dollar Confederate note.
+
+"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to see
+silver agin."
+
+"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.
+
+"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore eyes."
+
+"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said; "anyhow,
+you kin git to the camp on this side."
+
+"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.
+
+"Good-by, Mister," she said.
+
+I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the door; she
+raised her voice a little, and said,--
+
+"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the mill."
+
+So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but as soon
+as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right through the
+woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could eat and sleep.
+
+When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from the post
+near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all withdrawing to
+their main lines; this thought had received some corroboration from the
+firing heard in my rear later in the day; I had believed the Union
+troops advancing behind me; but afterward I had seen other rebels at the
+woman's house, and I now doubted what I had before believed. Besides, it
+was clear from the woman's words that there was a rebel post this side
+of Lee's Mill, and I was yet in danger.
+
+The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running west,
+the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept up to it,
+and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it, and into the
+woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a southwest course, and
+found a spot where I thought I could spend the night in safety. For fear
+of being detected I dug a hole, with my knife, in the earth, and piled
+the loose earth around the hole; then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at
+the bottom. Night had not yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense
+thicket surrounded by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or
+smoke would betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of
+any one who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and
+toasted my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I
+wanted water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to
+search for a spring or a stream in the woods.
+
+I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with my
+hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not cold,
+threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the wind.
+
+Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of lying in a
+mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water running through my
+whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have water at any risk.
+
+I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of my
+supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all
+likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.
+
+Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was completely
+lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and gullies, round
+and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out, until just before day I
+saw the reflection of fire through the woods, and at the same time
+almost fell into a small pool. It was the reflection of the light by the
+pool which at once showed me the water and saved me from finding it
+with a sense other than sight.
+
+I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant. Although
+it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it was some rebel
+camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I turned my back on the
+light, and walked until I could see it no more; then I stretched myself
+under a tree, but could not sleep. Day was coming.
+
+After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable time of
+it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to determine to
+move, for I did not know which way to start. I set out, however, and had
+gone a short distance, when I noticed the green moss at the root of a
+large tree, and I remembered that I had read in stories of Indians and
+hunters that such moss always grows on the north side of the trees. So I
+then turned westward, for I knew that I had crossed no road in my
+wanderings of the night, and I also knew that the main road from Warwick
+Court-House to Lee's Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a
+great tree with a sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was
+raining harder. When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat
+under the tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and
+hiding me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard
+the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of rebel
+cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could distinctly
+hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off, seemingly. The rain
+still fell and I held my place.
+
+All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union
+soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.
+
+Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an advancing
+line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.
+
+"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are _you?_"
+
+"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer, coming up,
+"I'll attend to that man."
+
+"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to the
+right!"
+
+Two men came to the lieutenant.
+
+"Who _are_ you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.
+
+"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"
+
+"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in the
+night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of their
+cavalry went by ten minutes ago."
+
+The line went on in the rain.
+
+The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them to take
+me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson. I have never
+learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good qualities.
+
+Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line did not
+seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began to understand
+that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should have run upon the
+enemy in force.
+
+I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the head of
+his brigade. He asked me my name.
+
+"Jones Berwick, General," said I.
+
+"What is your business?"
+
+"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your
+regiment?"
+
+"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least, it had
+not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before yesterday."
+
+"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near
+Washington?"
+
+"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my health,
+General."
+
+"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by lying out
+in the woods in the rain?"
+
+"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and I am
+now fully recovered."
+
+General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on day before
+yesterday?"
+
+"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General McClellan
+had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I left."
+
+"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern accent."
+
+"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner; I came
+out to observe the rebel lines."
+
+"By whose authority?"
+
+Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass, signed by
+such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some complication should
+arise which would give trouble to such an officer, for Dr. Khayme had
+not fully informed me about my privileges.
+
+"It was only a private enterprise, General."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he said.
+
+I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the Warwick
+River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it; that the fords
+had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no rebels on this side
+of the river now, in my opinion, except pickets, and possibly a force
+just in front of Lee's Mill.
+
+"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.
+
+"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the other
+side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it. Night came on
+me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I have nothing but
+hearsay in regard to that place."
+
+"What have you heard?"
+
+I told him what the woman had said.
+
+"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he asked
+sternly.
+
+"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any proof; I
+wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy you."
+
+The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on a piece
+of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who rushed off to the
+rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from the rear; he saluted
+General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him in a low tone. I could
+easily guess that he was speaking of me.
+
+Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about my
+service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was its
+colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead of my
+regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick replies.
+Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout, which I gave
+him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke of Nick, his eye
+brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he nodded his head. Then
+he asked, "What did you write?"
+
+"The word _going_," I said.
+
+"Have you a pencil?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Here, take this, and write the word _going_," he said, handing me a
+small blank-book.
+
+On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature below.
+
+Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked
+attentively at both books.
+
+Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he says.
+Better be careful of your advance."
+
+And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr. Berwick."
+
+That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.
+
+
+
+XI
+
+FORT WILLIS
+
+     "This is the sergeant,
+     Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters, I had
+been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News. The
+officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's aides.
+The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had delivered
+my message, with which my handwriting showed identity; moreover, General
+Keyes, when the matter was brought to his attention, immediately
+declared with a laugh that his friend Khayme's protégé was a "brick."
+
+The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously
+subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which,
+though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a camp-bed
+after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near me, and
+questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to term my
+escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my visit to the
+woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred on Nick.
+
+"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point of view
+in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have trusted him
+the instant I learned that he was a slave."
+
+"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the slaves
+wish to be free."
+
+"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has independence
+of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at night between two
+hostile armies, wishes to be free."
+
+"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think, that at
+the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can now."
+
+This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed, "Father,
+Mr. Berwick needs rest."
+
+"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of. Let me
+fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then he can sleep
+the sleep of the just."
+
+"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."
+
+"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that the just
+live forever."
+
+"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did live."
+
+"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said
+"slaveholders."
+
+"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels, that is,
+after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion becomes
+unnecessary."
+
+"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war, are
+necessary?"
+
+"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the Doctor;
+"rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to usurped authority
+is always right."
+
+"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked languidly.
+
+"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."
+
+"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only making him
+sleepy."
+
+Lydia retired.
+
+I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He
+continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but I
+warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for to-morrow. By
+the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your regiment is
+expected on the tenth."
+
+"Glad to hear it, Doctor."
+
+"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"
+
+"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them that I
+saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of course."
+
+"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"The map we have is incorrect."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."
+
+"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep, and it
+cannot be turned on the James River side except by the fleet."
+
+"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing nothing,
+and probably will do nothing until the _Merrimac_ is disposed of."
+
+"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"
+
+"By this and that," said the Doctor.
+
+"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.
+
+"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.
+
+"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our troops should
+have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."
+
+"Do you object?" he asked.
+
+"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I should have
+done I don't well see."
+
+"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.
+
+"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been compelled to
+wait till night to make a start."
+
+Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and faster
+than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before sleep
+overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head looked alive,
+and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and half hid the Doctor's
+face were not mere forms that would dissipate and be no more; they
+seemed living beings--servants attendant on their master's will.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote some
+letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news that
+Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a siege
+instead of a battle.
+
+"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by
+assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for reënforcements, there
+will be nothing to prevent the Confederates from being reënforced; so
+mote it be."
+
+"What! You are not impatient?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And you are willing for the enemy to be reënforced?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will end."
+
+"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he is likely
+to lose much time now."
+
+"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."
+
+"All the time there is! that means eternity."
+
+"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."
+
+"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.
+
+"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will happen
+in that time."
+
+"To McClellan?"
+
+"Why not to McClellan? To all."
+
+"Everything is a big word, Doctor."
+
+"No bigger than eternity."
+
+"And McClellan will win and will lose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that everything
+will happen."
+
+"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the conditions
+necessary to cause everything to come to pass."
+
+"The rebels will win and the North will win?"
+
+"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will happen."
+
+"You surely are a strange puzzle."
+
+"I give myself enough time, do I not?"
+
+"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."
+
+"The contradiction is only seeming."
+
+"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull Run?"
+
+"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but the
+defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by saying both
+North and South will win, you surely know; it is that the divine
+purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end and
+accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present wicked
+strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the people of
+both sections wants will come; what they want they fight for; but it
+would have come without war, as I was about to tell you last night, when
+you interrupted me by going to sleep."
+
+"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how rebellion could
+exist and not bring war."
+
+"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.
+
+"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in two
+senses," said the Doctor.
+
+"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to give
+it."
+
+"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."
+
+"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall proceed to
+punish you."
+
+"By refusing me?"
+
+"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does not
+necessarily bring war?"
+
+"That is the postulate," I replied.
+
+"Then, first, what is rebellion?"
+
+"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a definition,
+"rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or state, to the
+legalized government of the nation or state."
+
+"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see if there
+have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you say of
+Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"
+
+"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a stop to
+it."
+
+"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you say of
+Monk?"
+
+"What Monk?"
+
+"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the Second."
+
+"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a
+rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."
+
+"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"
+
+"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does not bring
+war when, the other party won't fight."
+
+"But it is wrong to fight," he said.
+
+"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.
+
+"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending is that
+every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England have been wiser
+if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies? Suppose the principle
+of peace were cherished: the ideas that would otherwise cause rebellion
+would be patiently tested; the men of new or opposite ideas would no
+longer be rebels; they would be statesmen; a rebellion would be
+accepted, tried, and defeated by a counter rebellion, both peaceable. It
+is simply leaving things to the will of the majority. Right ideas will
+win, no matter what the opposition to them. Better change the arena of
+conflict. A single champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter
+and prove his hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same
+thing on a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and
+I have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or
+rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you
+Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you
+proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of them
+are left to think fatally; but they _will_ think, and your killing them
+will not prove your ideas right."
+
+"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know that is
+what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I asked, thinking
+to touch a tender spot.
+
+"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many a
+Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea would
+have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once; but the
+idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with the South
+knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge concerning principle
+was involved, instead of massacre according to the John Brown idiocy, a
+great amelioration in the condition of the slave would have begun
+immediately. The South, would have gradually liberated the slaves."
+
+"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from perfection."
+
+"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to have
+ideals, and strive to reach them."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship Point,
+and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the next day I
+rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me coming. The good
+fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and generous. We soon
+went off for a private chat.
+
+"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he asked.
+
+"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp was
+never moved once; what have you been doing?"
+
+"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to come.
+Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"
+
+"What new drill?"
+
+"Hardee."
+
+"You don't say!"
+
+"Fact. Whole division."
+
+"Do you like it better?"
+
+"Believe I do."
+
+"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough to do of
+another sort."
+
+Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the manual of
+arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is carried in the
+right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted for Scott's, which
+provides for the shoulder on the left side. There was no actual drill,
+however, and my clumsy performance--clumsy compared with that of the
+other men of the company who had become accustomed to the change--was
+limited to but little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants
+because of my inexperience.
+
+I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not expect him
+to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of her; and I did
+not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him information concerning
+the young lady. He asked me about Dr. Khayme, however, and thus gave me
+the chance to let him know that the Doctor himself would move his
+quarters to the rear of our lines, but that his daughter would remain at
+the hospital at Newport News until the army should advance
+beyond Yorktown.
+
+And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of
+Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and
+frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost
+every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on the
+picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood the
+hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have endured much
+more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been completely upset; he
+had said that we should take Yorktown in a week and pursue the routed
+rebels into Richmond, and now we were doing but little--so far as we
+could see--to bring matters to a conclusion. The artillery of the rebels
+played on our lines; and our guns replied; the pickets, too, were
+frequently busy popping away at each other, and occasionally hitting
+their marks. Ever since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great
+quantities of lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though
+Dr. Khayme maintained that the waste became a crime when men were
+killed,--I have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words
+"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles, and
+about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than could be
+set down in a column of figures as long as the equator. From April 13 to
+May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac before Yorktown did not
+reach half of one per cent. The men learned speedily to dodge shells,
+and I remember hearing one man say that he dodged a bullet. He saw a
+black spot seemingly stationary, and knew at once that the thing was
+coming in a straight line for his eye. The story was swallowed, but I
+think nobody believed it, except the hero thereof, who was a good
+soldier, however, and ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who
+is supremely interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my
+part, it was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired
+one. I dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a
+cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under
+cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing sometimes to
+hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way," at the smoke of a
+gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no sound of a shell would
+follow, the missile having gone into the woods half a mile to our
+right or left.
+
+I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had in its
+ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant, I never saw
+him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead a picket squad
+into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the skirmish detail in
+place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and laugh, and swear, in
+everything he was simply superb. That I do not quote his cuss-words must
+not be taken as an indication, that they were commonplace. Everything he
+did he did with his might, almost violently. He was a good shot, too,
+within the range of the smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of
+them--seemed to be better armed than we were; it was said that they had
+received some cargoes of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range,
+according to the marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by
+blockade-runners. They could keep us down behind the pits while they
+would walk about as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries
+was flung at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been
+studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over the
+fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his temper
+got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one day when he
+was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit; Willis's bullet
+would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the Enfield Minié ball
+would go a-kiting over our heads and making men far to our rear look
+out. Sometimes Willis was very gloomy, and I attributed this condition
+to his passion for Lydia, though, on such a subject he never opened his
+mouth to me.
+
+One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I were both
+on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty, and Willis was
+the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been skirmishing on this
+part of the line the preceding day, but at sunset, or the hour for
+sunset if the weather had been fair, the firing had ceased as we marched
+up and relieved the old pickets. We were in the woods, the most of us,
+but just here, on the right of our own detail, there were a few
+rifle-pits in the open, the opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four
+hundred yards apart, and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at
+night--being about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always
+composed of three men for each post. We found our three men numb with,
+cold, two lying near the edge o£ the woods, in a big hole made by a
+shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard
+nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds reflected
+the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long till day. The
+two men, my companions on post, whispered together, and then proposed
+that I should take the first watch. Willis had returned to the line
+with the relieved vedettes. I had no objection to taking the first
+watch, yet I hesitated, simply because the two men had whispered. I
+fancied there was some reason for the request, and I asked bluntly why
+they had decided it was my turn without giving me a voice in the matter.
+You know it is the custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man
+volunteers for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends,
+and that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from
+various companies, they preferred lying together.
+
+This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason that in
+two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and they lay down
+in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle, for fear of some
+sudden volley from the rebels.
+
+The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the left
+oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near to a tree
+which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy pine of second
+growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with its limbs starting
+from the trunk as low as eight feet from the ground. I stood near this
+tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our nearest vedette posts, right and
+left, were a hundred yards from me--the one on the left being in the
+woods, that on the right in the open. The country called the Peninsula
+is low and flat and very swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of
+rain that had now fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a
+loblolly, to use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about
+thirty yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it
+was possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this
+ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture us;
+such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by the
+rebels, but by many other people at war.
+
+Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line about three
+hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette posts nobody knew
+where, for they used similar economy to ours in withdrawing their
+vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of which I can but barely
+mention, had opened my eyes a little to the possibility of accurate
+inferences, that is to say, his philosophy of cause and effect, or
+purpose, as he liked better to call it, had been urged upon me so
+frequently and so profoundly that I had become more observant; he had
+made me think of the relations of things. Philosophy, he had said,
+should be carried into everyday life and into the smallest matters; that
+was what made a good fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a
+good soldier, provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This
+ravine, then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented
+opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods, make
+prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there would be a
+gap through which our skirmish line might be surprised.
+
+I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood near the
+ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the darkness. It did not
+extend into the forest, for the roots of the trees there protected the
+soil from washing away. The undergrowth at my left was not very dense; I
+judged that in daylight one could see into the forest a hundred yards or
+more. At my right, the gully began and seemed to widen and deepen as it
+went, but nothing definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.
+
+My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was really
+transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more forward place but
+thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in less than a minute.
+
+The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my short
+absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I would not
+like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt that I had done
+right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically speaking, but only
+to take a proper precaution, in regard to the post itself. Then, what is
+a man's post? Merely the ground with which the soles of his feet are in
+touch? If he may move an inch, how far may he move? Yet I was glad that
+the men had not seen me move and come back, and I was glad, too, that
+they had made the proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had
+discovered danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now
+for one of these men to take my place.
+
+My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious of any
+new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do something.
+
+I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.
+
+"Who stands watch next?"
+
+"Me. But it's not time yet."
+
+"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back to the
+line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a minute."
+
+"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."
+
+"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said I.
+
+The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, "What is
+it you say I'm to tell him?"
+
+The other man also had risen.
+
+"Only that I want to see him."
+
+"Anything wrong?"
+
+"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is all."
+
+The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become alarmed,
+perhaps.
+
+When Willis came I was under the tree.
+
+"What's up, Jones?"
+
+"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."
+
+"It's a gully," says he.
+
+"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our post
+ought to be where we can see into it."
+
+"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."
+
+I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any intimation
+to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were standing near me.
+
+In two minutes Willis returned.
+
+"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where you are."
+
+We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the ravine.
+
+"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to be
+here."
+
+"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise us.
+This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."
+
+The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
+thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.
+
+"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know what that
+noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."
+
+"Let's have it."
+
+"We can get lots of fun out here."
+
+"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"
+
+"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a word to
+them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be mum now,
+old man."
+
+"Tell me what you mean."
+
+But he had already started back.
+
+It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; yet the
+weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I knew that in
+all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would prolong the duty
+of the vedettes and make another relief necessary.
+
+When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good men of
+Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on back to the
+line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."
+
+When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way back a
+short distance and into the edge of the woods.
+
+"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. We want
+to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or something to screen
+them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so beyond the gully till I
+whistle for you, or call you. The rest of us will do the work while
+you watch."
+
+The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear enough.
+One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that others seemed
+to have come up in no light marching order. Willis meant to occupy the
+ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in this advanced post, so
+near the rebels that his bullets would not fall short. It was all
+clear enough.
+
+The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing Thompson, I
+skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or forty yards to my
+right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, with my eyes to the front.
+Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; the men were filling the
+sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck became stiff. No sound
+reached me from the front; I supposed that the nearest rebel vedette was
+not nearer than two hundred yards, unless at a point more advanced from
+his lines there was some natural protection for him. But what prevented
+my being surprised from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened
+my neck; light was beginning to show.
+
+At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call twice. The
+ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself almost impregnable
+against an equal force of skirmishers. Just where an angle in the
+western edge presented a flank of wall toward the north, Willis and his
+gang had cut away the earth into a shelf some three feet beneath the
+top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth surmounted the summit, with open
+spaces between, in order that a musket might be fired through, these
+handy port-holes, and the sand-bags were covered with sedge from the
+open field. I congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.
+
+The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could yet see
+neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and reserved the
+centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be about two feet
+nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was manned by Freeman,
+Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.
+
+"Men, attention!" says Willis.
+
+"Take the caps off of your pieces!"
+
+The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis condescended to
+explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as Act First; that any
+man who should yield to the temptation to fire without orders, was to be
+sent back to the line at once.
+
+Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a bullet
+whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel side.
+
+"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.
+
+Everybody had rushed to his place.
+
+"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.
+
+We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.
+
+"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.
+
+The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.
+
+"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.
+
+Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line in the
+rear.
+
+The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from one to
+another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our heads from
+the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade from both sides
+continued.
+
+Willis was at the parapet.
+
+"Look out!" he cries.
+
+A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets from the
+rebels.
+
+"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.
+
+We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible three
+hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. Our skirmish
+line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired not at us but at
+our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had been but the supplement
+of the artillery fire--all for the purpose of getting full command of
+our line, on which not a man now dared to show his head, for a dozen
+Minié balls would go for it at the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had
+not detected our little squad.
+
+"Prime, men!" says Willis.
+
+The guns were capped.
+
+"Now, hold your fire till the word!"
+
+Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all their own
+way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their waists could be
+seen; some of them began to walk about a little, for they were not in
+any sort of danger, that is, from our line. They were firing with a
+system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and
+so on down their line, merely to keep the advantage they had gained. At
+irregular intervals two or three shots would be sent at some dummy--a
+hat or coat held up by the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.
+
+"_Ready!_" says Willis.
+
+Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another joined them.
+
+"_Aim! Fire!_"
+
+Five triggers were pulled.
+
+"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable oath, than
+any I ever saw in print.
+
+The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my way; I had
+been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly see anything. Put
+yourself in a hole, and raise your head until your eyes are an inch, or
+two above the surface of ground almost level--what can you see? But for
+a slight depression between us and the rebels, the position would have
+been worthless; yet every evil, according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or
+good side--our fortress was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it,
+if they saw it at all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective
+mingling our small elevation with the greater ones beyond.
+
+We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight feet
+deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a rattle of
+firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had taken advantage of
+the diversion brought, and had turned the tables; not a shot was coming
+from the front.
+
+Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," he said.
+
+Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were doing
+nothing, and were nervously expectant.
+
+Holt wished for a pack of cards.
+
+A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a gang of
+rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were but sixty
+yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line could protect
+us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of 'em before they could
+git to us." To this Thompson replied that if the rebels should again get
+the upper hand, and make our men afraid to show their heads, the rebels
+could come on us from the woods without great danger. Willis admitted
+that Thompson had reason, but did not think the rebels had yet found us
+out; at any rate, they would be afraid to come so near our strong
+skirmish-line; so for his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the
+right was the place of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the
+rebels might sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we
+were here.
+
+Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the front was
+heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us became silent.
+
+We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its port-hole.
+
+"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have another
+chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. Berwick first.
+Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a head--"
+
+I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that my shot
+missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides pegged away
+for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his man.
+
+Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of the bags
+between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and into the wall of
+the ravine behind us. Willis fired.
+
+"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."
+
+Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and then
+Freeman, and it became my turn again.
+
+That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and buried
+itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not believe that an
+ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted whether an Enfield had it.
+The rebels were getting good arms from England. It might be that some
+man over there had a Whitworth telescope rifle; if so he had detected us
+perhaps--a telescope would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this
+speculation, but watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a
+man as low as his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag
+was struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
+which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
+bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the wall
+of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.
+
+"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'll report directly, Sergeant."
+
+I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a long, leaden
+cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than calibre 45 I guessed.
+This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to Willis; he understood.
+
+"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."
+
+The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth over
+there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers where we were
+posted; then we should be a target for their whole line, and at three
+hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our sand-bags and make us
+lie low.
+
+Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched on the
+cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, the others
+fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.
+
+Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our fun.
+
+Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that we had
+done more damage than we had received, and should receive; that all we
+had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm should pass; the
+rebels would think that we were gone and would cease wasting their
+ammunition; then we could have more fun.
+
+Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so said
+Thompson, and so said Freeman.
+
+My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this moment
+retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge of the
+woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not killed; it was
+doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for the rebels, if they
+had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, and would throw a
+hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again get the upper hand of
+the rebels, then we could get out easily; if not, we must stay here till
+night. We had done all that could be done--had done well, and we must
+not risk loss without a purpose; we must protect ourselves; let the
+rebels waste their powder--the more they wasted, the better. The only
+real danger was that the rebels might advance; but even if they did,
+they could not get at us without coming to blows with our line--the
+ravine protected our line from their charge. It was our business to stay
+where we were and to keep a sharp lookout.
+
+So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we should
+keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at the bottom of
+the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.
+
+The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below the level
+of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to the porthole.
+Freeman began, taking off his coat.
+
+"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.
+
+He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat above on
+a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, faced us, raised
+his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was the first dummy that
+the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at any rate their whole force
+was at once busy; the fire rolled from left to right far down the line,
+yet when Freeman examined his garments he found that neither hat nor
+coat had been struck.
+
+"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want to."
+
+Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must make
+some effort to keep awake.
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a little,
+and see what's there."
+
+"All right, Jones; but don't go far."
+
+I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward our
+line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned toward the
+left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the left, running
+for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running straight toward the
+rebels. I came back and reported.
+
+"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We must
+keep two sentinels on post now."
+
+Thompson was posted at the bend.
+
+It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the gully;
+they could not know how small was our force; if they should march a
+company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to capture by a
+sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, however, that a few men
+would try to sneak up in order to see how many we were; yet even this
+supposition was not necessary, for the rebels were having everything
+their own way, and need risk nothing. So I decided in my own mind to be
+as patient as possible until dark.
+
+The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional Whitworth
+bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we could not hear
+the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer seen. What were they
+planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could find a means for
+communicating with our friends in the rear; if they would open fire
+again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was best to be quiet
+until dark.
+
+I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at the bend.
+Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; our game had been
+blocked. The notion now came to me that if the rebels wanted us, the way
+to get us would be to send men up the ravine just before dark, and at
+the same time for a squad of them to steal through the woods to our
+left, where they would be ready for us when we should steal out.
+
+"Sergeant!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Think we'd better get back."
+
+"What's the matter now?"
+
+"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."
+
+"Fact, by--!" says Willis.
+
+"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here to tell
+you how to do it."
+
+"Le's have it," says Willis.
+
+"Make a big smoke!"
+
+Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, down at
+the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the ravine. Our knives
+and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big heap of green boughs
+and sprigs. It would take work to touch her off, for there was no dry
+wood; but we managed by finding the remains of cartridge papers and
+using a free supply of gunpowder. When all was ready, Holt was recalled,
+and the match was struck.
+
+"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a partin'
+salute."
+
+The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately peeping to the
+front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At last she caught, and a
+thin column of black smoke began to ascend.
+
+"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up to."
+
+A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, or by us
+at them.
+
+The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it away from
+the woods.
+
+"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.
+
+But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort Willis
+should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention had been so
+fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the universe had become
+a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder almost overhead startled the
+defenders of the redoubt. Without our knowledge a storm had rolled up
+from the Atlantic; the rain was beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops,
+already obscuring our vision.
+
+"_Fire!_" shouted Willis.
+
+The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to the
+skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's making.
+
+
+
+XII
+
+MORE ACTIVE SERVICE
+
+         "Do but start
+     An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
+     And even at hand a drum is ready braced
+     That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were heard in the
+direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the light of great
+fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be ready to march, but the
+morning wore away, and it was almost two o'clock before the long roll
+beat. At length we moved with the column, already unnerved by
+long-continued expectation, westward upon the Williamsburg road.
+
+Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told you so."
+
+Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he kept on
+predicting till the rain came.
+
+The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up by the
+retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of us.
+
+Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had come into
+our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking our way. We
+rested. About dark our head of column was turned back and we
+countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted again, where,
+I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn out when orders
+were given that the men should lie on their arms, but that they should
+otherwise make themselves as comfortable as they could. Rain was
+falling, the night was black, comfort was impossible. I suppose I got
+two or three hours' sleep. At daylight the march was again taken up; in
+an hour or two we halted and formed line with skirmishers in front; it
+was still raining.
+
+We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank, through the
+woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers deployed in
+advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets flew amongst us.
+We continued to advance until we reached the edge of the woods; the line
+had not yet fired a shot.
+
+The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we became
+visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the timber at our
+ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We lay there for
+something like two hours; then we moved to the rear,--only our regiment,
+I think,--fronted again, and marched to the right for perhaps a mile
+through the woods. Willis said that we were seeking any enemy that might
+be in the woods; but he aroused no interest; nobody either approved or
+seemed to doubt Willis's interpretation of the movement; we did not know
+what the generals were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and
+hungry and wet.
+
+By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position near the
+felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile batteries to fire
+upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the rear. I noticed that
+our company seemed small; perhaps a few had been wounded; certainly many
+had fallen out of ranks, unable longer to endure.
+
+About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time through
+the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the roar of musketry
+ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen running in every direction
+except one. We moved on in line, without skirmishers. The straggling men
+increased in numbers, and many wounded went past us, the ambulance
+corps working busily here in the dense wet forest. The yells of the
+rebels were plainly heard, and all eyes were strained to catch sight of
+what was already but too well known. Every moment was an hour.
+
+Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line staggered
+to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as he could--firing
+at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could be heard in the
+smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution in our own strife,
+there could be faintly heard the noise of battle to our right, far and
+near to our right.
+
+Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to the
+left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers cried,
+"They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that line, men! They
+are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in convincing most of us
+that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are flanked!" "Look out!"
+"Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the whole crowd of us were running
+with all our legs. I reached a road that ran across the line of my
+flight; it was full of everything: troops in good order, stragglers
+breaking through them, wounded lying down, dead flat on their backs,
+artillery horses in their traces, ambulances.
+
+So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops had
+relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and the
+battle soon ended on the whole line.
+
+With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the woods;
+the rain kept on.
+
+I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered a
+victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we had won
+it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the battle. The
+rebels fought this partial engagement only for the purpose, I think, of
+securing the retreat of their army and trains; we fought for the purpose
+of preventing the retreat. I have learned that our right wing had
+better success than we had on the left; but for all that, the enemy got
+away unbroken, and his purpose was accomplished. In the days of those
+early battles, even the falling back of the rebel pickets before a line
+of our skirmishers was telegraphed to Washington as a victory.
+
+We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small. Willis's
+remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring much comfort;
+even his assertion, that they would again retreat and that the morning
+would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm. The men were
+dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought hard and had
+endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they were physically
+exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody had blundered in
+putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place. I have always been
+proud that none of our men deserted on the night of the
+Williamsburg battle.
+
+No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down. My
+gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top; this was
+our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and gum-blanket. The night
+was warm enough, and our covering was needed only as some protection
+against the rain. I was soon asleep, but awake again as soon. About ten
+o'clock I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rising, I saw our
+orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by him. I was ordered to report at
+General Grover's headquarters. The general had sent an orderly, who
+could not or would not tell why I was wanted.
+
+General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers, surrounding a
+dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a large tree; horses
+were tied near by to the branches of trees.
+
+The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.
+
+The general came toward me; I saluted.
+
+"Your name," said he.
+
+"Private Jones Berwick."
+
+"Your regiment."
+
+"Eleventh."
+
+"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."
+
+I bowed.
+
+"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"
+
+"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after danger," said
+I.
+
+"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."
+
+He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers scattering.
+
+"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must send a
+man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this brigade?"
+
+"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."
+
+"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going should
+not be allowed to go."
+
+"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me decline."
+
+"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall lose
+nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do your duty
+well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."
+
+"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.
+
+"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let me show
+you."
+
+He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an officer
+stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and placed the
+lantern near the blanket.
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.
+
+The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on the
+blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.
+
+"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil; "you see
+our line here, running north and south."
+
+"Which is north?" I asked.
+
+"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over here, or
+were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this branch, in
+part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get across the branch,
+and go on through the woods until you come to this road, which you see
+running north and south. You need not go across this road. All I want
+you to do is to observe this road until day."
+
+"Is the road in the woods, General?"
+
+"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble
+whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the
+road," said he.
+
+"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall I do?"
+
+"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their vedettes
+near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to the road. If
+they are on this side of the road, but so near the road that you can
+observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with as little risk to
+yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on the road, you must
+come back to the picket-line and report, and then return to your post of
+observation."
+
+"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and our
+picket-line?"
+
+"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to supply one."
+
+"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this side of
+the road."
+
+"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night. Take your
+own way to do it, but the road must be observed."
+
+"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"
+
+"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred yards,"
+said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of paper."
+
+"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the other
+brigades, General?"
+
+"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will hardly
+find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do our duty for
+us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision such as you
+speak of."
+
+"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"
+
+"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you through.
+I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."
+
+"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't find you
+when I get back."
+
+"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get back to
+us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that relieve them
+about you."
+
+"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said I.
+
+"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through the other
+man. Is everything clear to you now?"
+
+"Yes, General; I think so."
+
+"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten minutes."
+
+I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed, and I
+was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as much
+consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that I should
+run against one of them in the darkness. I put my gum-blanket over me,
+committed my knapsack and other things to Willis's keeping; and was back
+with the general.
+
+We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the general had
+shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief conversation took place
+between the general and Captain Brown of the picket-line. The captain
+chose a man, and told him to follow me and to obey my orders.
+
+Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, my
+man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you report any
+movement on that road." I began to assure him that I would do all that I
+could, but I found that he had already started back to the brigade.
+
+I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when I
+should return. The low call went right and left along the line,--"Two of
+our men going to the front!"
+
+"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.
+
+"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are only
+thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour ago."
+
+I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern, which
+his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or more, that
+the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two men to every five
+paces, and that every man was standing in his place, gun in
+hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their faces to the
+front. There were no picket fires.
+
+"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"
+
+"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new men in
+half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for such duty.
+The new men will be advised that you are still in front. Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come."
+
+The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the
+detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The
+captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to the
+picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I say
+observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch it. I
+asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the picket-line; while he
+was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette. He had heard nothing in his
+front, except that now and then there seemed to come to him, from far
+away, an indistinct rumble; he had seen nothing in the black night
+except trees but little blacker. The rain was a thick drizzle.
+
+I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard anything in his
+front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the vedettes had orders
+not to fire, but to retire at once on the picket-line in case of a
+silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar order, which at a later time
+I heard given again under somewhat similar circumstances, was no doubt a
+wise one. A secret advance of the enemy's skirmishers would have been
+precipitated into a charge by the fire of the vedette, whereas his
+secret retreat to his line would prepare the pickets to surprise the
+surprisers.
+
+And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods were so
+dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to see ahead of
+me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I supposed that the branch
+which I was to cross was but a very short distance in front. I had no
+fear that I should find enemies this side of the branch; the great
+probability was that their vedettes were posted on the farther bank of
+the stream. When I had gone not more than thirty yards, I felt that the
+ground sloped downward before me, and I judged that the branch was very
+near. I paused. There was not a sound except that made by the fall of
+heavy drops of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes,
+trying to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could
+not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a low
+whisper if he could see at all.
+
+"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you stand."
+
+I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that the
+branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little more light.
+He whispered back that there was, he thought, more light in our front
+than there had been before. I now tried to discern this new light, and
+could not at first, but after a little while it did seem to me that just
+ahead there was a dim gray streak.
+
+I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and I felt
+my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a step back,
+and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward, holding Allen's
+hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to do so. We went back
+again, some three steps, until I was out of the water.
+
+Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were hand-in-hand. He
+whispered, "It is ten steps wide."
+
+"Can you see across it?"
+
+"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."
+
+In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt myself in a
+more critical place. The opposite side of the branch was an ideal
+position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be there if anywhere in
+these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might have neglected their
+opportunity; besides, their line might be bent back here; their vedettes
+might be on the branch farther to our right, and _here_ might be
+anywhere in its rear; we did not know where the rebel right rested. Of
+one thing I felt sure--the rebels did not intend to advance on this
+night, for in that case they would have had their vedettes, and their
+pickets also, if possible, on our side of the branch.
+
+The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If vedettes
+were on it, it was just within the possible that I might pass between
+two of them.
+
+I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one, which he
+put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat, lest my foot
+should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused utter failure, if
+not our capture.
+
+We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the stick
+seemed to sink into soft mud.
+
+I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to my
+knees in water.
+
+I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.
+
+Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under my feet.
+I thought I had reached the middle.
+
+I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same
+monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.
+
+We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed steep. By
+feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed Allen's hand from
+my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the water below me.
+
+I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily tell that
+there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be surrounded by a dense,
+low thicket. What was in this thicket? Likely the rebel vedettes
+and pickets.
+
+My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel the
+smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying there, but not
+entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the splintered middle of the
+tree, still holding. I at once knew that I was in the midst of felled
+timber,--on the edge of a slashing or entanglement.
+
+Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely, unless
+there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the strip of
+timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just in rear of it;
+perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the branch, and in order to
+impede and expose to hearing any enemy that might succeed in crossing
+the branch. But, in that case, would not the timber be a protection
+rather than a hindrance to the enemy advancing or stealing forward? Yes,
+unless the vedettes were just in rear of this very narrow strip, or
+unless the rebel intrenchments were in easy musket range.
+
+These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with Allen
+below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber there might be
+capture, or death, or there might be no danger whatever. I was beginning
+to hope that there was no vedette or picket-line in these woods.
+
+Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward; after
+having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused and
+listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and, giving him
+my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went forward until I
+supposed we were near the spot to which I had previously advanced.
+Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept on again, and again
+returned to him; then both went forward as before. On this second stage
+of our approach we passed through to the farther side of the
+felled timber.
+
+We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every moment
+lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's works ought to
+be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis without intrenchments
+was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to find the
+intrenchments deserted.
+
+The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We had used
+up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of less than two
+hundred yards.
+
+I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with Allen
+forward--until at length I reached a road running across my line
+of progress.
+
+After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down on my
+hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell with my hands
+that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I supposed were horses'
+tracks, but it was impossible for me to know which way the
+tracks headed.
+
+Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or forty
+yards, and found nothing.
+
+Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do you
+think that skirt of felled timber means?"
+
+"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.
+
+"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there is
+nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel left in
+these woods."
+
+"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
+fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."
+
+"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough its
+purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being seen."
+
+"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."
+
+I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the approach to a
+rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear many noises. The
+only thing I now feared was some scouting party.
+
+It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired upon, I
+decided that we must learn which way the movement on the road had been.
+I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a match near the
+ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked with all our eyes,
+moving the match back and forth over the road. The tracks all headed to
+our right.
+
+Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the road.
+
+"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"Through the woods."
+
+"How long will you be gone?"
+
+"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you must return
+to the pickets and report that there has already been a considerable
+movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I feel certain that
+there are no rebels in these woods. They were here, but they have gone.
+I want to get to the open ground and see what is there; it will not
+take long."
+
+"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this spot," said
+he.
+
+"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is nobody in
+these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."
+
+"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are better
+than one."
+
+"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to both of us
+out there, and neither of us be able to report to General Grover. Stay
+where you are."
+
+I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be able to
+turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods became more
+open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see much better. I
+reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few stars were shining
+between broken clouds near the horizon in front of me--west, I thought.
+Toward the north, and northwest the clouds reflected some distant light,
+and had a reddish glow. I could distinctly hear the sounds of great
+movements, the rumblings of wagon, trains or artillery. The ground
+seemed open before me for a long distance.
+
+I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet me.
+
+"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over. Go back
+to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General Grover that
+the road shows clearly that the rebels have already moved along it to
+their left, our right; and that there is nobody here, all gone; gone to
+our right, their left, and that I have been entirely through the woods,
+and have found nothing, but that to the northwest there are the sounds
+of great movements, and that I am going to see if I cannot find
+out more."
+
+"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I doubt if
+I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear in
+this place."
+
+Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two o'clock, I
+thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about me. I passed
+rapidly through the woods again and into the open ground, climbing a
+rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that rose before me, an "old
+field," or abandoned farm, which was scattered over here and there with
+clumps of stunted growth. Once I paused in terror. A bush had taken, to
+my fancy, the form of a man. The illusion lasted but for a moment.
+
+When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could see
+many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them stationary. The
+sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear shouts, like those
+of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch the command to close up.
+
+I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was difficult
+to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red glare I could
+distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were rebels in line before
+me, I should be able to see them before they could see me, so I went on
+without great fear, and crept to the top of this second swell of
+the ground.
+
+Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating. The road
+was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires were burning on
+both sides of the road; men and wagons were hurrying westward. Almost in
+front of me was a cluster of houses, which I took to be Williamsburg;
+fires were burning in the streets; a great throng was passing on west
+between the fires and between the houses. I had little doubt that I
+could mingle, without great danger, with the rebels, seeing that my
+gum-blanket would hide my uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought
+was rejected, however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew
+enough already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than
+I now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly
+delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried
+toward our pickets.
+
+When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had been
+advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made my report
+to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who mounted and rode
+off in haste.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was Willis.
+Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis was bubbling
+over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a high horse; the
+rebels would make no further stand until they reached Richmond; he
+doubted if they would attempt to defend Richmond, even. His spirits
+were contagious; he did good although he was ludicrous. What would Dr.
+Khayme have said of Willis's influence? I supposed that the Doctor would
+have used the sergeant as an illustration of his doctrine that there is
+nothing unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.
+
+The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but a short
+distance, and bivouacked.
+
+About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to Colonel
+Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had never before
+been individually in his presence. I wondered what it meant, and
+hastened to his headquarters.
+
+I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.
+
+"You are Private Berwick?" he said.
+
+"Yes, Colonel."
+
+"What have you been doing?"
+
+"In what respect, Colonel?"
+
+"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff, but his
+eye and mouth belied his voice.
+
+"Here," said he; "take this and read it."
+
+I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D, Eleventh
+Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further orders, from duty
+with his company, and will hold himself ready for special service
+when ordered."
+
+This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by General
+Grover.
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE
+
+"Take all the swift advantage of the hours."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I was again
+aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to the adjutant of
+the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of General Grover's order
+relieving me from regular duty--in fact had himself written the order by
+command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had been asked to issue it by our
+brigade commander. The adjutant also told me that I should still get
+rations through Company D, but that I was free to go and come when not
+on special duty, and that I was expected to keep him advised of my
+goings, so that I could be found when wanted. "For the rest," said he,
+"you will do much as you wish, especially when the brigade is in
+reserve, as it is to-day, and as it is likely to be for a good many days
+to come. Your services to be required at long intervals will make up, it
+is hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."
+
+I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on the
+right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the
+battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over which
+Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the rebels had here
+suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in places, although
+details of men had long been busy in burying the slain of both armies.
+
+At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed wrong more
+than once. No one was there except a white servant; he told me that the
+Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had been busy the whole of
+the preceding day and night in relieving the wounded; that he had taken
+no sleep at all. "I don't see how the Doctor stands what he goes
+through," said the man. "Yesterday the whole day long he was in the
+thick of it; he was in as great danger as the troops were; lots more
+than some of 'em. He said that the rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but
+for my part I wouldn't trust one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull
+by the tail; and him a tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."
+
+This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of danger.
+At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the wounded as
+they fell. I supposed that there was no use expostulating with a man who
+so firmly believed in the peculiar doctrines of his philosophy.
+
+About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.
+
+"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you think
+you are going to stay with me several days?"
+
+"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"
+
+"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this side of
+the Chickahominy."
+
+"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.
+
+"You will know."
+
+"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"
+
+"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on special
+duty not to be demanded for some time."
+
+"You know about my case?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such arduous
+labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and his mental
+power were to me matters for astonishment equally great.
+
+"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You need rest
+and sleep."
+
+"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I sleep;
+just now I want supper."
+
+After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a
+camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other man
+in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his eyes
+filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in perfect
+repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.
+
+I asked about Lydia.
+
+"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with me, but
+I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton until the
+army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do before you have
+any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for her yet."
+
+"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.
+
+"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can come to me
+when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we shall not demand
+her services here. But now tell me all about your last night's
+experience."
+
+When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be called on
+to do more of such work."
+
+"I suppose so," said I.
+
+"Do you like it?"
+
+"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I shall
+not object if I can accomplish anything."
+
+"You have accomplished something each time that you have been sent out.
+You have at least furnished strong corroborative evidence, sufficiently
+strong to induce action on the part of your generals."
+
+"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."
+
+"Are you sleepy?"
+
+"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the afternoon."
+
+"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given unto
+man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of last night
+you will incur little risk."
+
+"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."
+
+"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you will be
+in less danger, and you will accomplish more."
+
+"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more," said I.
+
+"You should always do such work unarmed."
+
+"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances only, and
+a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be silent."
+
+"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor; "you
+will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives will be safer
+from you."
+
+"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"
+
+"And be a spy, Jones?"
+
+"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not in
+them."
+
+"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.
+
+The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message addressed:--
+
+  PRIVATE BERWICK,
+   _On detached service,
+       At Sanitary Camp,
+         Rear of General Hancock's division_.
+
+"Who gave you this?" I asked.
+
+"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a horseman
+with two horses."
+
+"Is he waiting?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity; the
+thought went through my mind that he already knew or suspected.
+
+There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which contained
+only the countersigns for the past five days, and an order from
+General Hooker.
+
+The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had
+influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I could
+merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read the order
+thoroughly three times, learned by heart the countersigns, impressed the
+map on my mind, and then destroyed the three papers in accordance with
+an express injunction comprised in the order itself. This mental work
+took some minutes, during which the Doctor sat impassive.
+
+"Doctor, I must go."
+
+"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose you are
+on secret service."
+
+"Yes, Doctor,"
+
+"Can I help in any way?"
+
+"Please let me have that gray suit."
+
+He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.
+
+"Anything else, Jones?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I shall need food."
+
+"How will you carry it?"
+
+"In my pockets. Bread will do."
+
+"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that you
+shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."
+
+He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or pocket;
+this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I wanted.
+
+"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."
+
+"I am not in this army," he said.
+
+The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.
+
+"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to get back
+in two or three days."
+
+"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was gone.
+
+Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."
+
+"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"
+
+"No, sir; I suppose not."
+
+"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and that I
+begin work at once."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and rode toward
+the east.
+
+My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to communicate
+with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought to have landed
+on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House for the purpose of
+cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The earliest possible delivery of
+my message was strenuously required, my orders even going so far as to
+include reasons for despatch. The retreating enemy were almost between
+us and Franklin, and he must be notified to attack and delay them at
+every hazard, and must be informed if possible by what road he should
+advance in order to cut off their retreat; it was added that, upon
+landing, General Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel
+army, and would depend upon information being brought to him by some one
+of the messengers sent him on this night.
+
+My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging from the
+map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the six miles in
+less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts I had no trouble.
+
+"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.
+
+"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Don't know. Horse black."
+
+"Going fast?"
+
+"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' _to_ hell, too, if he
+don't mind how he rides."
+
+It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty miles ahead
+of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that circumspection was worth
+more than haste--let the black horse go on.
+
+"Where are the rebels?"
+
+"A mile in front when dark came."
+
+"Infantry?"
+
+"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't know
+which."
+
+"Please describe their position."
+
+"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up across the
+road--a mile out there," pointing.
+
+"In the woods?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Captain--"
+
+"No, only lieutenant."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me to the
+point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"
+
+"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"
+
+As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but he knew
+nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or infantry,
+whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how many they were.
+The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road muffled the sounds of the
+horses' hoofs; no noise came from front or rear. The way was through the
+woods; in little more than half a mile open ground was seen ahead.
+Johnson stopped; so did I.
+
+"They are on the other side of the field," said he,
+
+"How wide is the field?"
+
+"A quarter, I guess."
+
+"What was planted in the field last year?"
+
+"Corn."
+
+"Stalks still standing?"
+
+"Yes, but they are very small."
+
+"Does the road run between fences?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How far does the field extend to our right?"
+
+"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."
+
+"And to our left?"
+
+"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."
+
+"Any houses?"
+
+"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."
+
+"A farmhouse?"
+
+"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."
+
+"Which side of the road?"
+
+"The left."
+
+Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.
+
+How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival at
+Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it might mean
+success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at nightfall, I
+should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if they were yet
+yonder in the woods on the other side of the field, they would capture
+me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the safe course, or the
+possible speedy course? I took the safe course. Dismounting I tied my
+horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward on the right of the
+right-hand fence, until I reached the woods beyond the field. I looked
+over the fence into the road. There was no enemy visible. The house at
+the west was without lights, and there was no noise of barking dogs or
+of anything else; clearly the rebels had moved, and by my prudence the
+black horse had gained further upon me. I got into the road and ran back
+to my horse, mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a
+mile; then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not
+expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first disappointment
+control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat of the rebels was
+necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains to protect. The road
+must be forsaken at the first path that would lead me to the right; any
+bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The night was clear, and the stars
+would guide me until I should reach some better ground. The sketch
+furnished me gave me only the main road, with the branch roads marked
+down for very short distances. I would take one of the branch roads
+leading to the right; there must be roads leading up the York; all the
+country is interlaced with roads small and large. I would risk it;
+better do that than risk falling into the enemy's hands.
+
+I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could
+distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was louder--coming
+and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into the woods a few
+yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still the sounds reached
+me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse, yet coming from far. Who
+could be riding fast this night? Who could be riding south this night?
+The rebels were going north; no rebel horseman would ride
+south to-night.
+
+The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed by; I
+could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I saw a black
+horse going south.
+
+Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I could not
+know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I be sure that
+in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or black from bay? I
+could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my first impression. The
+lieutenant had said the man's horse was black. How did the lieutenant
+know? Had he seen the horse by day? Had he brought a light? The horse
+must be very black. To satisfy my mind I led my horse into the road and
+slipped the bridle round his foreleg; then retired a few yards and
+looked at him--he had not the colour of the black horse; he was a
+deep bay.
+
+Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been found
+far up the road, and the messenger could not get through them. Who else
+would be riding fast down this road? If the rider were a rebel, he would
+ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward our own lines; this rider was
+one of ours. Who was he? He was the messenger on the black horse. Why
+should he ride so fast to the rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps
+he knew of another road, and was hurrying now because he had already
+lost time and his new road would be longer and would make him lose more.
+
+Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the black horse
+far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before I should
+encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.
+
+After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on the
+right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and considered.
+The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were occupied, what should
+I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one was now in the cabin, I
+might get information; if it was deserted, I could explore the ground
+about it, for I hoped that some path connected this place with other
+fields and perhaps other roads to the north. I dismounted and approached
+the door and knocked. There was no response. I pushed the door, and it
+opened; the place had been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a
+well in the back yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path
+leading to a spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully
+continued my search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the
+back fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to
+the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached the
+woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the trees
+overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my horse, I
+continued on and came to a larger field where, at the fence, the path
+connected with, a narrow plantation road which I knew, from the ruts,
+wagons had used. I went to the right, no longer dismounted, and going at
+a fast trot. My road was running in a northeast course, but soon the
+corner of the field was reached, and then it branched, one branch going
+to the north, the other continuing northeast Which should I take? I
+could not hesitate; I rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road
+for nearly a mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt
+sure that I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
+considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road again,
+but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was stretched
+along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the rear-guard
+picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had preceded me. I
+would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost lost sometimes, passing
+farms and woods and streams, forsaking one path for a worse one, if the
+latter favoured my course, until at last, after great anxiety, and
+fatigue of body and mind, I reached a wide road running northwest. I had
+come, I supposed, four or five miles from the stile.
+
+Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in the road
+to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map was worthless
+now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying parties; those
+people I must watch for.
+
+I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles to go,
+for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but I counted
+that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative safety, and had five
+hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing about, but it was running in
+the correct course for Eltham's Landing high up on the river.
+
+Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should take the
+right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight off to the
+York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take the left, it was
+chance for chance that I should ride straight to the enemy on the
+Richmond road.
+
+I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of hope
+thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance, but would
+take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or bridle-path
+branching out of this, and running up the river. But my progress became
+exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss seeing some blind road
+leading to the right, and my carefulness again cost me a little time,
+perhaps, for I found a path, and took it, going with great caution for a
+furlong, to find that it entered a larger road. If I had not taken this
+path, I should have soon reached this good road at its junction, and
+time would have been saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame
+myself, and went on with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon
+was getting far down the sky, my road was good and was running straight
+toward my end.
+
+But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard hoof-beats
+behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some night rider was
+following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal? Loud ring the strokes
+of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I must run or I must
+slip aside.
+
+I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw up the
+game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid in the
+shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering hoofs hit the
+road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the black horse belly to
+the ground in the moonlight.
+
+Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man before me; if
+he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me; so long as he
+should be in my front, safety for me was at the front and danger
+elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the road stretches were
+long, going slowly where the ground was hard, lest the noise of my
+approach should be heard. Yet I had no difficulty; the courier was
+straining every nerve to reach his destination, and regarded not his
+rear. He crossed roads in haste, and by this I knew that the road was to
+him familiar; he paused never, but kept his horse at an even gallop
+through forest and through field, while I followed by jerks, making my
+horse run at times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back
+to slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.
+
+But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had supposed;
+light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the west. How far to
+the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he has gone many weary
+miles more than mine has gone; his rider is urging him to the utmost; I
+can see him dig his spurs again and again into the sides of the noble
+beast, and see him strike, and I see him turn where the road turns ahead
+of me, and I ride faster to recover him; and now I see black smoke
+rising at my right hand, and I hear the whistle of the Union steam
+vessels, and I almost cry for joy, and at the turning of the road my
+horse rears and almost throws me to the ground, and I see the black
+horse lying dead, and I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror
+as a man springs from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts,
+"Your horse! your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your
+brains out!"
+
+For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!
+
+Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I write
+the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the past:--the
+daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two horses, each pair
+as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was dead and the other man
+was about to die. Had I been so utterly foolish! Why had I conceived
+absolutely that this rider was a Federal? How could a Federal know the
+road so well that he had gone over it at full speed, never hesitating,
+never deflecting into a wrong course? The instant before, I had been in
+heaven, for I had known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt
+that my end had come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a
+lost mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time
+any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and reaching
+our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.
+
+In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world _was_
+changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I saw his hands go
+up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed sight--were two
+Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the man in gray.
+
+"Take me at once to General Franklin."
+
+Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same words!
+
+The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black horse was a
+Federal in disguise!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no error on
+my part, my mission was a failure.
+
+"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of it?" I
+asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.
+
+"That horse was going home!"
+
+"A horse captured from the rebels?"
+
+"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing. You see he
+had already made that road and was not in the best condition to make it
+again so soon; then I had to turn about more than once. I suppose that
+horse must have made nearly a hundred miles in twenty-four hours."
+
+Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as General
+Porter's messenger.
+
+On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OUT OF SORTS
+
+      "Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
+      Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
+      A party in this alteration, finding
+      Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling for Dr.
+Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was sure that no
+other man was received as his companion--not that he was distant, but
+that he was not approached. By nature I am affectionate, but at that
+time my emotions were severely and almost continually repressed by my
+will, because of a condition of nervous sensitiveness in regard to the
+possibility of an exposure of my peculiarity, so that I often wondered
+whether the Doctor fully understood the love and reverence I bore him.
+
+On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say, on the
+morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William and Mary
+College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices, as he said,
+for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the open air, busily
+engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when I saw a man coming
+toward me. It was Willis.
+
+"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.
+
+"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"
+
+"That depends."
+
+"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought out a
+camp-stool; Willis remained standing.
+
+"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear about
+your being detailed for special work?"
+
+"So," said I.
+
+"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"
+
+Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be; besides, I
+had observed that he called me Berwick rather than Jones. His attitude
+chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about myself. We talk about
+personal matters to personal friends. I suppose, too, that I am peculiar
+in such things; at any rate, so great was my distaste to talking now
+with Willis on the subject in question that I did not succeed in hiding
+my feeling.
+
+"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."
+
+"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal matters,
+perhaps too personal."
+
+"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then he asked,
+"How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"
+
+It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not of the
+little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to Lydia, and
+I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my being or becoming
+his rival. Yet I did not see how I could introduce a subject so
+delicate. In order to gain time, I replied: "Well, I don't know exactly;
+I am subject to orders from brigade headquarters. If no orders come, I
+shall stay here a day or two; if we march, I suppose I shall march with
+the company, unless the division is in the rear."
+
+"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will you do?"
+he asked.
+
+This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I asked,
+"Why do you wish to know?"
+
+"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to show
+your hand."
+
+"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.
+
+"You know very well what I mean," he replied.
+
+"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say anything, this
+is a good time for saying it."
+
+"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss Lydia."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And I thought you were my friend."
+
+"I am your friend."
+
+"Then why do you get into my way?"
+
+"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what would you
+have me to do?"
+
+"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."
+
+"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"
+
+"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why you
+visit him."
+
+"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him. I have
+no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."
+
+"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."
+
+"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to favour
+your hopes?"
+
+"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's company;
+but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that you want
+Miss Lydia."
+
+"Shall I tell him that you say that?"
+
+"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he replied
+angrily.
+
+"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss Lydia?"
+
+"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've got to say
+is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my way."
+
+"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me into a very
+delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and explain to him that my
+attachment to him is not a piece of hypocrisy played by me in order to
+win his daughter, would not be satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or
+even to Miss Khayme."
+
+"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my assumption that
+she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my saying, 'I don't want
+you,' and more than that, as you can easily see. I decline to put myself
+into such a position. I prefer to assume that she does not regard me as
+a suitor, and that the Doctor receives me only as an old pupil. I beg
+you to stay here until the Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can
+promise you one thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a
+clear field."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with Miss
+Lydia?"
+
+"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect me to
+say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it would be
+silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have not. I can
+tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia that I would not
+speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter, and I can say that I
+have not one degree of claim upon her."
+
+"Then you will keep out of my way?"
+
+"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will keep
+out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young lady is
+absolutely free so far as I am concerned."
+
+At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and went
+into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I offered to
+lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so greatly
+interested, but he would not consent.
+
+The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he said.
+
+"You surprise me, Doctor."
+
+"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week to
+come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division moves.
+Lydia will find enough to do here."
+
+Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short distance; on
+parting with him I told him that he might expect to see me again
+at night.
+
+"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"
+
+"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."
+
+Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said nothing.
+
+When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He looked
+up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing to write, he
+said, "So Willis is angry."
+
+"Why do you say so, Doctor?"
+
+"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.
+
+I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.
+
+"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before I could
+reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that expression; it is a
+good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed, mentally unwell, physically
+ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of sorts. Out of sorts means mixed,
+unclassified, unassorted, having one's functions disordered. One who
+cannot separate his functions distinctly is unwell and, necessarily,
+miserable. Willis showed signs of dementia; his brain is not acting
+right. I think I can cure him."
+
+I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of sarcasm.
+
+He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate of any
+individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that is, sane at
+times, but to find them would be like finding the traditional needle. I
+suppose our good friend Willis would rank higher than the average, after
+all is said."
+
+"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."
+
+"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man for a
+soldier and a sergeant, and be content."
+
+Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge of
+nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this time I
+had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had alarmed or
+offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round the subject.
+
+"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a commission. If
+the war continues, there will be many chances for promotion."
+
+"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a commission. The
+difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is greater in pay than in
+qualification; in fact, a good orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a
+good captain. Let Willis have his commission. Let that be his ambition,
+if he persists in murdering people."
+
+The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words were
+intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I could do
+nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was very delicate.
+Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he was very much afraid
+of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw more than I could see? No,
+that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's
+well-known partiality for me; he feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was
+uneasy. I examined myself; I thought of my past conduct in regard to
+Lydia, and found nothing to condemn. I had been rather more distant, I
+thought, than was necessary. I must preserve this distance.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the company
+to-night."
+
+He looked up. "You will see Willis?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
+
+"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left us
+rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very well."
+
+"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."
+
+"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me here by ten
+o'clock."
+
+When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on duty
+somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and everything
+passed in the friendliest way possible, at first. Evidently he was
+pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia. But he soon learned
+that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and his countenance
+changed at once.
+
+"What am I to think of you?" he asked.
+
+"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you no
+wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."
+
+"He said that I was not well?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my life."
+
+"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."
+
+"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain longer."
+
+"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak to Miss
+Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or the other?"
+
+"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said he; "how
+can I speak to her?"
+
+"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."
+
+"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the one to
+speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it. It's got to
+be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's what's hurting me."
+
+"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.
+
+"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over; it's doing
+me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."
+
+"Why don't you write?"
+
+"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked cowardly
+not to face the music."
+
+"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all. You ought
+to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't suppose you can
+do that."
+
+"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall write."
+
+I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said, coupled with
+my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not think his chance
+worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best thing for him to do was
+to bring matters to a conclusion. He would recover sooner.
+
+At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had arrived
+in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the hospital.
+
+"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little less
+out of sorts?"
+
+"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work, Jones. I
+have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate uniform, while
+scouting."
+
+"And you do not oppose it?"
+
+"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war; all I
+can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it to good."
+
+The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended by
+saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some wounded
+prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles which the
+respective sections were fighting for.
+
+"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout would be
+of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself, as my friend
+Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the best thing for the
+rebels was their quick defeat."
+
+"I remember it."
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind."
+
+"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed. I
+believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe in the
+Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe and you do
+believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to war. But war has
+come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see that an easy defeat of
+the Southern armies will not bring about a wholesome reunion. For the
+people of the two sections to live in harmony, there must be mutual
+respect, and there must be self-respect. An easy triumph over the South
+would cause the North great vainglory and the South great humiliation.
+Granting war, it should be such as to effect as much good and as little
+harm as possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
+respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to know
+that she did all she could, and the North must know that the South
+proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
+respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded upon an
+easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not friends."
+
+
+
+XV
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT
+
+     "The respects thereof are nice and trivial,
+     All circumstances well considered."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned that a
+part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was encamped near
+White House, and that General McClellan's headquarters were at or near
+that place.
+
+Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard that
+the rebels had destroyed the _Merrimac_. Heavy rains fell. Hooker's
+division was still in reserve, and had little to do except to mount camp
+guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr. Khayme in his camp near
+Williamsburg.
+
+I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness to
+melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written to Miss
+Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard time of it, but
+he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a little by taking him
+into my confidence in regard to my own troubles. I was moved to do this
+by the belief that, if I should tell Willis about my peculiarities,
+which in my opinion would make marriage a crime for me, he would find
+companionship in sorrow where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease
+to think entirely of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to
+appreciate my intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir
+up his ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him
+begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.
+
+From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the other
+divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the
+Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the
+Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went
+at once.
+
+"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"
+
+"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.
+
+"Your regiment has had a good rest."
+
+"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."
+
+"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I am
+authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I shall
+be in greater demand there."
+
+"I wish I could go with you," said I.
+
+"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your orders?"
+
+"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to keep the
+adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my whereabouts."
+
+"How frequently must you report in person?"
+
+"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do," said I.
+
+"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I cannot
+think it will be brought into action soon unless there should be a
+general engagement. If you can report in writing every two or three
+days, you need not limit your work or your presence to any particular
+part of the line."
+
+"But the right must be many miles from our division."
+
+"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present right is
+not more than five miles; the distance will be greater, though, in a
+few days."
+
+"What is going on, Doctor?"
+
+"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force in his
+front, and--but let me get a map and show you the situation."
+
+He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread on a
+camp-bed.
+
+"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it. Here, about
+this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division under General
+Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to reënforce his right by
+ordering McDowell to march, thus," describing almost a semicircle which
+began by going south, then southeast, then southwest; "that would place
+McDowell on McClellan's right flank, here. Now, if McDowell reënforces
+McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the Chickahominy, and if
+McDowell does not reënforce McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the
+Chickahominy."
+
+"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.
+
+"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten days;
+afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell comes, it will
+take ten days for his movement to be completed, and your right wing
+would move to meet him if need be, rather than move forward and leave
+him. To move forward would expose McDowell's flank to the Confederates
+near Guiney's, and it is feared that Jackson is not far from them. Am
+I clear?"
+
+"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose McDowell
+does not come."
+
+"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross the
+Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate force,
+supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached Hanover
+Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you advance; besides,
+to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army would endanger your
+supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is an awkward thing to cross;
+if it should rise suddenly, the army on the south side might starve
+before the men could get rations; all that the Confederates would have
+to do would be to prevent wagon trains from crossing the bridges. And
+another thing--defeat, with the river behind the army, would mean
+destruction. McClellan will not cross his army; he will throw only his
+left across."
+
+"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that with a
+wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of being beaten
+in detail."
+
+"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something; he makes
+a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the war department
+already thinks he has lost too much time and has shown too little
+aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring the James River as a
+base, for he could there have a river on either flank, and his base
+would be protected by the fleet; but this theory was overthrown at first
+by the _Merrimac_, and now that she is out of the way the clamour of the
+war department against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan
+accepts the York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to
+prepare, for a change to the James, by throwing forward his left."
+
+"But the left has not been thrown forward."
+
+"It will be done shortly."
+
+"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to reënforce us?"
+
+"McDowell has already been ordered to reënforce McClellan, and the order
+has been countermanded. The Washington authorities fear to uncover
+Washington on account of Jackson's presence in the Shenandoah Valley. If
+McDowell remains near Fredericksburg 'for good,' as we used to say in
+South Carolina, McClellan will be likely to get everything in readiness,
+then wait for his opportunity, and throw his right wing also across the
+Chickahominy, with the purpose of ending the campaign in a general
+engagement before his supplies are endangered. But this will take time.
+So I say that no matter what happens, except one thing, there will be
+nothing done by Hooker for ten days; he will stay in reserve."
+
+"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"
+
+"A general attack by the Confederates."
+
+"And you think that is possible?"
+
+"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And you think
+they are ready to attack?"
+
+"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any rate a
+general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over the
+Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."
+
+"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.
+
+"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or unless
+somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged unless your
+whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There is no possibility
+of an action for a week to come, and unless the Confederates attack,
+there will be no action for a month."
+
+"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates intend to
+attack," said I.
+
+"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you can
+serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You are free
+to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the place
+for you."
+
+"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"
+
+"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one to see
+that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging every day
+for reënforcements; the Confederates are waiting and are being
+reënforced."
+
+"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by going
+with you?"
+
+"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from your
+regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your opportunities for
+service will be better."
+
+"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of reporting to
+the adjutant almost daily."
+
+"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a man."
+
+It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr. Khayme, who,
+on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear of General Porter's
+command, which we found supporting Franklin, whose troops were nearer
+the Chickahominy and behind New Bridge.
+
+Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling him
+where I could be found at need, and promising to send in further reports
+if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this period of the campaign
+there was but little activity anywhere along our lines; in fact, the
+lines had not been fully developed, and, as there was a difficult stream
+between us and the enemy, there was no room for enterprise. Here and
+there a reconnaissance would be made in order to learn something of the
+position of the rebels on the south side of the river, but such
+reconnaissances consisted mostly in merely moving small bodies of our
+troops up to the swamp and getting them fired upon by the Confederate
+artillery posted on the hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the
+22d, while Dr. Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of
+guns in two places, but only a few shots.
+
+"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.
+
+"From a wounded prisoner?"
+
+"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I have
+had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform, perhaps,
+since it has the South Carolina State button, but in everything else it
+is the correct thing."
+
+"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.
+
+"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as quickly as
+possible?"
+
+"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as I can
+do as well with my own,"
+
+"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or somewhere on
+your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor. "General Butterfield has
+given stringent orders for no man to leave camp for an hour."
+
+"Who is General Butterfield?"
+
+"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of his
+camp--Morell's division."
+
+"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation here?"
+
+"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost sorry that
+I have sent for Lydia to come."
+
+"And they will move to the right?"
+
+"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right flank is
+threatened."
+
+"Then why not fall back to the left?"
+
+"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that would look
+like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right will hold; it
+may attack."
+
+"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"
+
+"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.
+
+"But your sympathies are with us."
+
+"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but strong in
+many other points. I think we have discussed this before."
+
+That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again. The
+Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the complete
+abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind allowed him to
+sympathize keenly with the political contention of the South.
+
+We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some one
+approaching.
+
+The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was presented
+to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.
+
+"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he said.
+"General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and proposes to
+borrow him, if possible."
+
+The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the Doctor
+looked at me; I looked at the ground.
+
+The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands that he is
+asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he knows the
+circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere you may
+be needed."
+
+"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is required
+of me?"
+
+"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain Auchmuty.
+"General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as to accompany me
+to his tent, you shall have the matter explained."
+
+The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he could
+just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think myself
+his debtor.
+
+"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."
+
+"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I promise
+that you may return in an hour."
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+BETWEEN THE LINES
+
+     "Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,
+     To know the number of our enemies."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to me as
+Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite dark.
+
+The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General Morell. In the
+conversation which followed, General Butterfield seemed greatly
+interested, but took no part at all.
+
+General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he said,
+"because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are prudent as
+well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you will get it
+for us."
+
+"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my absence
+is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."
+
+"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he is
+willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is likely to
+remain inactive. I will show you his note."
+
+Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General Grover the
+expression used by General Morell.
+
+"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my best
+for you."
+
+"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you will
+take with you if you wish."
+
+The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread the map.
+I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.
+
+"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you are to
+do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting the point
+of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up here is Hanover
+Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles this side--about this
+spot. You are to get to both places and find out if the enemy is at
+either, or both, and in what force. If he is not at either place, you
+are to move along the railroad in the direction of Richmond, until you
+find the enemy."
+
+"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"
+
+"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg; they
+cross at the Junction."
+
+"Which railroad shall I follow?"
+
+"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn something
+of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if you are
+compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction, you
+need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say less than
+eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get all the knowledge
+you can of his position, his force in all arms, and, if possible, his
+purposes."
+
+"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body, not a mere
+scouting party."
+
+"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or
+foragers."
+
+"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey River," said
+I.
+
+"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which form the
+Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."
+
+"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover Court-House,
+would there be any need for me to go on to the Junction?"
+
+"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time; in
+case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and inform us
+just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if you find no enemy
+at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if you find a small force,
+such as a party of cavalry, you should try to get to the Junction."
+
+"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"
+
+"I can give you four days at the outside."
+
+"Counting to-night?"
+
+"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of the 27th,
+and shall hope to see you earlier."
+
+"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.
+
+"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.
+
+"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to meet?" I
+asked.
+
+"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in that
+case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force of ours
+run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal, better reserve
+your report for me."
+
+"And shall I find you here, sir?"
+
+"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if this
+command moves, I will leave orders for you."
+
+"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"
+
+"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel cavalry from
+the moment when you reach this point," putting his pencil on a spot
+marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in getting around them
+perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover Court-House, and another day to
+the Junction, if you find that you must go there; that gives you two
+days more; but if you find the enemy at the Court-House, you may get
+back in three days."
+
+"Why should I go by Old Church?"
+
+"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end; the
+country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral ground, and you
+would be delayed in going through it."
+
+[Illustration: Map]
+
+"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover
+Court-House?"
+
+"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads and the
+profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to military
+obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force, I mean--look
+into them."
+
+"Well, sir, I am ready."
+
+"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want, mounted or
+afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please have a
+good man to report to me two hours before day."
+
+"Mounted?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations and
+corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."
+
+"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the road to
+Old Church."
+
+"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night, and good
+luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your success will
+justify it."
+
+"Good night, General. I will do my best."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in disguise, and I
+had great doubt what to do; however, I at last compromised matters by
+deciding to take the Confederate uniform to be used in case I should
+need it. A thought occurred to me: "Doctor," said I, "these palmetto
+buttons might prove a bad thing. Suppose I should get into a brigade of
+Georgians occupying some position where there are no other troops; what
+would a Carolinian be doing amongst them?"
+
+"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these buttons
+are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth: all you have
+to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few moments. However,
+nobody would notice your buttons unless you should be within six feet
+of him and in broad daylight."
+
+"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there are more
+Confederates than Carolinians."
+
+The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto buttons
+into my haversack.
+
+Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I studied
+the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray clothing was
+wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the saddle. My escort was
+expected to provide for everything else. I decided to wear a black soft
+hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as big as mine, although he weighed
+about half as much as I did. My own shoes were coarse enough, and of no
+peculiar make. In my pockets I put nothing except a knife, some
+Confederate money, some silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank
+of Hamburg, South Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which
+he insisted on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I
+was a Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.
+
+Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside the
+tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but he was
+already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.
+
+The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.
+
+"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir," said he.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"
+
+"What? My friend of the black horse?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But I believe you are in blue this time."
+
+"Yes; I got no orders."
+
+I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had already had
+occasion to know.
+
+We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine. The
+morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered overhead, and
+Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the handle of the
+Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure that I looked for the
+Pleiades, to count them; they had not risen.
+
+We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops lay in
+bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer; then parks
+of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of wagons, with
+horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met a horseman, but
+nothing was said to him or by him.
+
+Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where nothing
+was seen except fields and woods.
+
+"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"
+
+"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I can
+satisfy them."
+
+At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then returned and
+explained that our post would admit us. We passed a mounted vedette, and
+then went on for a few hundred yards until we came to a crossroad.
+
+"We are at Old Church," said Jones.
+
+"And we have nobody here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take the left
+here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the road."
+
+"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to the
+left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a
+blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had
+nearly risen.
+
+The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant Russell. He
+gave me all the information he could. The right-hand road, by the
+blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek near its mouth, he
+said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River, and at the place where it
+crossed the Pamunkey another road came in, running down the river from
+Hanover Court-House. He was sure that the road which came in was the
+road from Hanover to the ferry at Hanover Old Town; he believed the
+ferry had not yet been destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him
+where the left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road
+to Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
+considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road. This
+also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my hat the
+several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church to Hanover
+Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I could have some
+resource, but I found that I could remember without uncovering.
+
+The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what he knew
+did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if he knew where
+the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are coming and going," said
+he; "one day they will be moving, and then a day will pass without our
+hearing of them. If they have a post anywhere, I don't know it."
+
+"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"
+
+"No--nobody at all," said he.
+
+Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had swallowed our
+breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee. For several reasons I
+thought it best to take the road to the left: first, it was away from
+the river, which the rebels were supposed to be watching closely;
+second, the distance seemed not so great; and, third, it was said to
+traverse a less populous region.
+
+I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided that we
+should ride forward alternately, at least until we should strike the
+crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones, rode forward for
+fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to him to come on. As he
+went by me I told him to continue to advance until he should reach, a
+turn in the road; then he should halt and let me pass him. At the first
+stop he made I saw with pleasure that he had the good judgment to halt
+on the side of the road amongst the bushes. I now rode up to him in
+turn, and paused before passing.
+
+"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And have seen nothing?"
+
+"No, sir; not a thing."
+
+"You understand why we advance in this manner?"
+
+"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both can watch
+for both."
+
+"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the same time;
+one of us might be left to tell the tale."
+
+I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a field was
+seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and I changed
+tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together through the field,
+went on quickly past the house, and on to another thicket, in the edge
+of which we found a school-house; but just before reaching the thicket I
+made Jones follow me at the distance of some forty yards. I had made
+this change of procedure because I had been able to see that there was
+nobody in the stretch of road passing the house, and I thought it better
+for two at once to be exposed to possible view from the house for a
+minute than one each for a minute.
+
+We had not seen a soul.
+
+We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding forward
+for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and alternately thus until
+we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into ours from the southwest. On
+the north of our road, and about two hundred and fifty yards from the
+spot where we had halted, was a farmhouse, which I supposed was the
+Linney house marked on the map. The road at the left, I knew from the
+map, went straight to Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I
+suspected that it was frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We
+remained in hiding at a short distance from the house, and consulted. I
+feared to pass openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the
+house, for discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion
+of the whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably
+be supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and,
+if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great
+probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the nearest
+rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning back. We rode
+down toward Old Church until we came to a forest stretching north of the
+road, which we now left, and made through the woods a circuit of the
+Linney house, and reached the Hanover road again in the low grounds of
+Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no one. The creek bottom was covered with
+forest and dense undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below
+the road, and kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture
+into the open.
+
+It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three miles since
+we had left Old Church.
+
+In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that we must
+run some risk of being seen from four directions at once, or else we
+must flank the crossing.
+
+By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the way
+until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and bidding Jones
+remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up and down, on the
+road. There were houses at my left--some two hundred yards off, and but
+indistinctly seen through the trees--on both sides of the road, but no
+person was visible. Just at my right the road sank between two
+elevations. I went to the hollow and found that from this position the
+houses could not be seen. I went back to Jones, and together we led our
+horses across the road through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly
+away through the woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two
+miles or more beyond the Linney house.
+
+We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts it would
+be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a mile at our
+left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the left and made
+for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we soon reached the
+Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought, of Hanover
+Court-House.
+
+And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear
+oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover
+Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by the
+enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently operated.
+If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction, were seeking to
+get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this would be the road by
+which it would march; this road then, beyond all question, was
+constantly watched, and there was strong probability that rebels were
+kept posted in good positions upon it. But for the fact that I might
+find it necessary to reach the Junction, I should now have gone
+forward afoot.
+
+I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther forward,
+and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to be one, at
+the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from ten o'clock
+until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our gradual approach.
+
+The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we found it
+always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight of the road,
+Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours we went around
+every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we had plenty of time.
+We avoided every habitation, and chose the thickest of the woods and the
+deepest of the hollows, and so conducted our advance that, remarkable as
+it may seem, from the time we left our outposts at Old Church until we
+came in sight of the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a
+human being, though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve
+miles. Of course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had
+been seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to
+keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there
+could tell whether we were friend or enemy.
+
+At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket. While
+we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that resembled
+the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the sound came
+from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of
+McClellan's right.
+
+About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which we
+could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in front of
+us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the open space.
+Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was determined to be prudent.
+The only question was whether we should flank the field at the right or
+at the left. From our point of observation, it seemed to me that the
+field in front stretched sufficiently far in the north to reach the
+Hanover road; if this were true our only course was by the left. To be
+as nearly sure as possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very
+much that I had not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General
+Morrell had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I
+had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should reach the
+ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that the road did go
+through the field and that there were men in the road.
+
+I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not more
+than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They seemed to
+be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking they began to
+move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There were bushes on the
+sides of the road where they were; soon they passed beyond the bushes,
+and I could see that the men were mounted. I watched them until they
+were lost to sight where the road entered the woods beyond. I had
+counted eleven; I supposed there were ten men under command of
+an officer.
+
+It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left. We acted
+with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the corner of the
+field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then put up the gap,
+and rode into the woods on the edge of the field. In some places the
+undergrowth was low, and we feared that our heads might be seen above
+our horses; in such places we dismounted. We passed at a distance one or
+two small houses--not dwellings, we thought, but field barns or cribs.
+At length we reached the western side of the field; we had gained
+greatly in position, though we were but little nearer to Hanover.
+
+We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and that we
+were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a quarter of a
+mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the horses, I crept
+through the woods until I could see the road. It was deserted. I crept
+nearer and nearer until I was almost on its edge; sheltered by the
+bushes I could see a long distance either way. At my left was a house,
+some two hundred yards away and on the far side of the road. I watched
+the house. The men I had seen in the road might have stopped in the
+house; there might be--indeed, there ought to be--an outpost near me,
+and this house would naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing,
+and at last crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced
+again parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the
+house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard in
+front of the house, and even through the house from front to back door;
+it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to seem as though
+the house was an abandoned one, in which case the rebels would likely
+never stop there, unless for water. I saw no well in the yard. There was
+no sign of life.
+
+I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel with
+the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a field in my
+front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the road there was
+another field, the road running between rail fences. I returned to
+Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence of my long absence,
+and we brought the horses up to the spot to which I had advanced. It
+was now about four o'clock, and we had yet three hours of daylight.
+Hanover could not be much more than two miles from us.
+
+The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily wooded
+hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet quite
+unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I asked Jones to
+creep back and observe the place thoroughly.
+
+He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing now," he
+said.
+
+No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into the
+woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in two
+squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward Hanover.
+
+"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went through
+the field?" I asked.
+
+"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would not show
+above the fence," he said.
+
+I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these small
+bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the
+supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had
+passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several attempts
+made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.
+
+No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went to the
+left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the foot of a
+hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I must go
+forward alone.
+
+To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in the creek
+swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a signal.
+
+I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I crossed
+the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the road; it ran
+up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men. Here, I was
+convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there was a line.
+
+A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge of the
+road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east, nearer to me
+than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone on sabres and
+carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry picket-line. I came down
+from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones, and got ready. I told him to
+make himself comfortable for the night, and to wait for me no longer
+than two o'clock the next day. The package containing the gray clothing
+I took with me. I would not put it on until I should see that nothing
+else would do.
+
+And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went forward. I
+had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I should find it to
+be a very long line; if it proved to be a line that I could turn, I
+would go round it, and when on its flank I would act as opportunity
+should offer. If the enemy's force were small, I might see it all from
+the outside; but if it consisted of brigades and divisions, I would put
+on the disguise and throw away my own uniform.
+
+Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were beginning to
+show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had seen the rebel
+picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed, carrying nothing but
+the gray clothes wrapped in the gum-blanket.
+
+The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were no trees.
+At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could hear voices far
+away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices were nearer--or
+louder, possibly.
+
+I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved off at a
+right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line parallel with the
+supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A rabbit sprang up from almost
+under my feet. I was glad that it did not run up the hill. Voices
+continued to come to my ears, but from far away. I supposed that the
+line was more than three hundred yards from me, and that vedettes were
+between us; but for the vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew
+that I was in no great danger so long as the pickets would talk. The
+voices made me sure that these pickets did not feel themselves in the
+presence of an enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of
+cavalry on all the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were
+prepared for attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared
+against observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for
+that. So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively
+safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from
+them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be in
+their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should think of
+him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he should be
+alarmed, I could get away.
+
+So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I struck woods,
+where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on level ground, and I
+could see in the distance the light of camp-fires, between which and me
+I could not doubt were the pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of
+the enemy.
+
+I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on the fires.
+I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it certainly covered
+more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that I were on the north
+side of the road.
+
+The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right. I was
+beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had reached the point
+where the picket-line bent back. I felt encouraged.
+
+I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still
+pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line fronting
+east. Soon I reached another road.
+
+Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could see, into
+the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt one of the main
+roads leading to Hanover Court-House.
+
+I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no camp-fires.
+
+I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.
+
+A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.
+
+I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star through
+the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north and south.
+The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near it, and bent
+back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon cavalry for their
+flank,--and this flank was toward their main army at Richmond,--my work
+would be easy.
+
+I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More cavalry rode
+by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of any
+infantry pickets.
+
+An ambulance went by, going north into camp.
+
+I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out of my
+pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves as well as
+I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes and twisted the
+gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had resolved to accompany
+any ambulance or wagon that should come into the rebel camp.
+
+Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and waited.
+
+Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was now
+convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was protected
+by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left flank of the
+rebel line.
+
+I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I could
+hear the engines puffing.
+
+From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I saw a
+team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the night.
+
+A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and get
+behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another came. As the
+last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent under the feed-box
+which, was slung behind it.
+
+I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE LINES OF HANOVER
+
+     "Our scouts have found the adventure very easy."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I thought, a new
+road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen again, and near by.
+
+The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted. I
+supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere form's
+sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept entirely under
+the body of the wagon.
+
+We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back and was
+walking toward the other end of his beat.
+
+The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an
+encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed clearly
+upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many groups of men;
+some of them were talking noisily; some were singing. It was easy to see
+that these men were in good spirits; they surely had not had a hard
+march that day. For my part, I was beginning to feel very tired; still,
+I knew that excitement would keep me going for this night, and for the
+next day, if need be.
+
+The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to go on
+until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was alone again,
+and with the Confederate forces between Jones and me.
+
+I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that the worst
+was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago, while following
+up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been at any time that
+day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who wore the Southern
+uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part could lose me. I must
+still act cautiously--yet without the appearance of caution; that was a
+more difficult matter.
+
+What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work of
+walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get out of
+these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for any
+other rebel.
+
+But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be accosted
+by some one?
+
+Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be satisfied.
+
+But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what can you
+say?
+
+Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all Georgians,
+and I am a South Carolinian.
+
+The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed my
+imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the place of
+a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier again was
+sudden, violent. I must guard against such transitions.
+
+Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without the
+appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires, by a great
+effort of will dominating my discomposure, and determining to play the
+Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I would go to the men; would
+talk to them when necessary; would count their tents and their stacks of
+arms if possible; would learn, as soon as I could, the name of some
+regiment, so that if I were questioned I could answer.
+
+But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate answer,
+and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you say?
+
+I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could prompt
+such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to suspect my
+being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect that one of these
+men was a Union soldier.
+
+I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook me,
+each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me without
+speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near them--and
+went with them to their company. I stood by in the light of the fires
+while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while they put the
+canteens on the ground, and their respective owners came and got them.
+The men did not speak to me.
+
+I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they certainly
+ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready for action, but,
+instead, they were here in tents and without any preparation against
+surprise, so far as I could see, except the cavalry pickets thrown out
+on the roads. If they had been in line, it would have been easy for me
+to estimate the number of bayonets in the line of stacked arms; I was
+greatly disappointed. The tents seemed to me too few for the numbers of
+men who were at the camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on
+their blankets in the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild
+weather, preferred to sleep outside of the crowded tents.
+
+Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to know, I
+sat down.
+
+One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.
+
+"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should carry
+some tobacco.
+
+"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.
+
+The petitioner refused to reply.
+
+A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a square of
+tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off a very small
+portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in silence at this act,
+which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One of them winked at me. I
+inferred that the large man intended a rebuke to his comrade for
+begging from a stranger. The large man went back and sat down.
+
+"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"
+
+"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.
+
+There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of all were
+upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of character and
+influence, though but a private. He turned to me.
+
+"You are tired," he said.
+
+I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted me, so
+that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had returned. The
+look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it was sympathetic. He
+was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me might shield me from the
+curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they were feeling interest of any
+sort in me. I had been fearing that some one would ask me my regiment.
+
+"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next fire.
+
+Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common saying
+with homesick soldiers.
+
+I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me. Perhaps I was
+thought a friend of one of the men who had brought the water; perhaps
+nobody thought anything, or cared anything, about me. Although I felt
+helpless, I would remain.
+
+A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of my hand.
+The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled; accident had
+helped me--had given me a plan.
+
+I turned the letter over. The address was:--
+
+     PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,
+       _Co. G, 7th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Gordonsville, Va._
+
+I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the street. The
+act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me entirely natural, but
+it was the best I could do; these men, I hoped, would merely think me
+an oddity.
+
+In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I saw.
+
+"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.
+
+"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.
+
+"What regiment is this?"
+
+"Our'n," said he.
+
+"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.
+
+"This is the Thirty-third," said another.
+
+I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached another
+group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward the left. I
+followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Hello, Jim! where
+are you going?"
+
+He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to hello; but
+my name's not Jim."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what regiment
+is this?"
+
+"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another word.
+
+The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the Thirty-third and
+Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all of Branch's regiments
+were from one State. I was supposed to belong to the brigade; it was
+needless to tell me the name of the State from which my regiment--from
+which all the regiments--came. Had the brigade been a mixed one, the men
+would have said, "Thirty-third North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North
+Carolina"; that they did not trouble themselves with giving the name of
+their State was strong reason for believing that all the regiments, as I
+knew the Seventh to be, were from North Carolina.
+
+I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes, which I
+thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten o'clock. The men
+had become silent; but few were sitting at the fires. I believed I had
+sufficient information as to the composition of the brigade, but I had
+learned little as to its strength. I knew that there were five streets
+in the encampment, and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how
+many men were in the brigade?
+
+Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents, which I took
+for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street was a wall-tent,
+which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of the encampment of
+tents, and separated from the encampment by a space of a hundred yards,
+perhaps, was a line of brighter fires than now showed in the streets.
+The dying out of the fires in the streets was what called my attention,
+by contrast, to these brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires;
+to my surprise I found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the
+nearest fire, and found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.
+
+"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said one.
+
+"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.
+
+"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.
+
+"No; do you?"
+
+"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's down
+that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with canteens.
+You are mighty late getting supper."
+
+"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin', an'
+they jest now got back an' let us loose."
+
+"What duty were you on?"
+
+"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time, but we
+went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that water o'
+yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a mile."
+
+"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you how to
+find it."
+
+"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git started
+right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."
+
+"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past General
+Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old field,
+and--let me see; what regiment is this?"
+
+"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no
+tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no
+tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I rather
+like it."
+
+"Well, wher's your water?"
+
+"You know where the old field is?"
+
+"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know anything."
+
+"You know headquarters?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the old
+field"
+
+The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with his
+messmate.
+
+"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a battery
+with the brigade in a week."
+
+"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.
+
+"Off on duty," said I.
+
+"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed with your
+comp'ny an' not ha' seed it _then_; you hain't seed it becaze it ain't
+for to be saw. They're put it away back yander."
+
+"How many guns?"
+
+"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em, myself."
+
+"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were guarding
+the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do its own
+guard duty."
+
+"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house down _by_
+the battery."
+
+"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."
+
+"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."
+
+"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"
+
+"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it Branch's
+battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's regiment
+Branch's, too."
+
+"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"
+
+"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's regiment,
+by a long shot."
+
+"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a venture.
+
+"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the Junction
+now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say so
+this mornin'."
+
+"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference between the
+Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North Carolina.
+
+The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk almost
+ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began tearing it into
+little bits, which I threw into the fire one by one, pretending mere
+abstraction.
+
+The envelope had borne the address:--
+
+     CAPTAIN GEORGE B. JOHNSTON,
+       _Co. G, 28th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Hanover C.H., Va_.
+
+I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G. Morrow, of
+the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A third bore the
+address:--
+
+      CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE,
+      _Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,_
+      _Gordonsville, Va._
+
+More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of privates,
+corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth, others of the
+Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One envelope had no address.
+Another gave me the name of Col. James H. Lane, but no regiment.
+
+"Time your friend was getting back," said I.
+
+"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd ahead of
+him."
+
+"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven or eight
+hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"
+
+"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"
+
+"Eighty-two," he said.
+
+The other man returned from the spring.
+
+"Know what I heerd?" he asked.
+
+"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.
+
+"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina was here
+summers."
+
+"Well, maybe it is."
+
+"I got it mighty straight."
+
+"How did you hear it?" I asked.
+
+"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had jest
+come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from here"
+
+"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,
+
+"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.
+
+"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."
+
+My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was Branch's
+command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one from Georgia,
+and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed to be near by. What
+more need I know? I must learn the strength of the force; I must get
+corroboration. The man with whom I had talked might be wrong on some
+point. I considered my friend's opinion correct concerning Branch's
+purpose. The Confederate force was put here to protect the railroad.
+From the envelopes I had learned that Branch's brigade had recently been
+at Gordonsville; it was clear that it had left Gordonsville in order to
+place itself between Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's
+army at Richmond, and thus preserve communications. Branch had been
+reënforced by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and
+seemingly on this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that
+General Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
+last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not trouble
+myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
+corroboration and knowledge of numbers.
+
+The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight formality
+to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek the path to the
+spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be going for water all night
+long, especially as there seemed little of it near by. By getting near
+the spring I should also be able, perhaps, to determine the position of
+the wagons; I had decided to attempt going out of these lines in the
+manner of my entering them, if I could but find a wagon going
+before daylight.
+
+It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a spring
+after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself by the side
+of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of empty canteens and
+the footsteps of a man; I started to meet him.
+
+"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"
+
+"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."
+
+"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."
+
+"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."
+
+"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if I did;
+you've hit it!"
+
+"What regiment do you belong to?"
+
+"Thirty-seventh."
+
+"Is that Colonel Lane's?"
+
+"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our colonel."
+
+"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh,"
+
+"That's Campbell's," said he.
+
+"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I, sitting
+down while the man should fill his canteens.
+
+"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.
+
+"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more are
+coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and is
+under Branch."
+
+"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.
+
+"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.
+
+"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"
+
+"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."
+
+"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old Twenty-eighth
+is a whopper--a thousand men."
+
+I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran down
+the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade ort to have
+a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with himself for
+discovering something like a pun or two.
+
+For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, with
+this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I should linger
+at the water, he might think my conduct strange.
+
+Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, venturing the
+remark that these two new regiments made Branch's brigade a very
+big one.
+
+"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us forever."
+
+"Wonder where they came from," said I.
+
+"Too hard for _me_," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; the
+Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."
+
+We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop here,"
+said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
+branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
+his way.
+
+And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to stay at
+one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I should be
+stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the fires of the
+Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and lay down. But I
+found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the experience and the
+danger of the situation drove sleep as far from me as the east is from
+the west. I believe that in romances it is the proper thing to say that
+a man in trying situations sleeps the sleep of the infant; but this is
+not romance. I could not sleep.
+
+Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself and sat
+up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no conversation
+with him; I was afraid he might question me too closely, and that my
+replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I kept quiet; I knew
+enough--too much to risk losing.
+
+Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become aware of a
+foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears were confirmed. He
+opened his mouth and said, "Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance
+was an assertion rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He
+continued to look at me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and
+went to sleep.
+
+To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and made my
+way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear. It must have
+been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished feeding their
+mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their teams; then, with much
+shouting and rattling of harness, they moved off. I stole along beside
+the second wagon for some distance, and had almost decided to climb into
+it from behind when I thought that possibly some one was in it. There
+seemed little danger in going out behind the wagons, especially as there
+was no light of day as yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets
+on the road would be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and
+although, too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
+cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my plan
+was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.
+
+When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about the spot,
+as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other wagons on the
+preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on the left of
+the road.
+
+The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at twenty
+paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution must be more
+than ever my guide; now that I had information of great value, it would
+not do to risk capture.
+
+For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, intently
+listening for the least sound which might convince me whether I was on
+the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that I was yet in rear of
+the Confederate pickets. The east was now clearly defined, so that my
+course was easy to choose--a northeasterly course, which I knew was very
+nearly the exact direction to the spot where I had left Jones.
+
+At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every yard was
+increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and rendering
+probability greater in my favour; I surely must be already in front of
+any possible picket-line.
+
+The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going a
+hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I examined
+the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I saw before me a
+fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal some vedette. Yet, if
+it did, the sentinel should be on my side of the tree. I stood for a few
+moments, intently searching it with my eyes. It was not more than
+fifteen yards from me, and directly in my course. At last, seeing
+nothing, I sprang quickly and was just about to lie down behind it, when
+a man rose from its other side. I did not lie down. He looked at me; I
+looked at him. He was unarmed. We were about eight feet apart. He began
+to recoil. There was light sufficient to enable me to tell from his
+dress that he was a rebel. Of course he would think me a Confederate. I
+stepped over the log.
+
+"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; "why are
+you not with your regiment?"
+
+He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the ground.
+
+"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.
+
+He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."
+
+"What do you mean by being here at all?"
+
+"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to sleep here,
+waiting for day."
+
+"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your
+regiment?"
+
+"The Seventh," he replied.
+
+"And your brigade?"
+
+He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made an
+unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure another
+corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought I could
+perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you know that
+troops have come up in the night? What brigade is yours?"
+
+"Branch's," he said.
+
+"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I, pointing
+to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well pleased to be quit
+at so cheap a cost.
+
+Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged through
+the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute without
+pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face; again I had
+felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too violent transition
+of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar condition which pressed me
+to prolonged and unguarded energy. I went through thicket and brier
+patch, over logs and gullies, and when I paused I knew not where I was.
+
+After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly direction
+so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more to the north; I
+changed my course then, bending toward the north, and before sunrise
+reached the creek which, on the preceding night, I had crossed after
+leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was above me or below, so I
+crossed the stream at the place where I struck it, and went straight
+away from it through the swamp.
+
+After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing my
+course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there was
+no response.
+
+No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My present
+course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I should get
+farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume any direction as
+the right one, I should be likely to have guessed wrong. I spent an hour
+working my way laboriously through the swamp, making wide and wider
+sweeps to reach some opening or some tree on higher ground. At last I
+saw open ground on my left. I went rapidly to it, and found a field,
+with a fence separating it from the woods,--the fence running east and
+west,--and saw, several hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the
+field at which I had stationed Jones.
+
+At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As I came
+near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting on the
+ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I was in his
+rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses; he sprang
+quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the muzzle of his
+gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and Jones advanced,
+frightened.
+
+"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why didn't you
+signal sooner?"
+
+"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I am glad
+to see you so watchful."
+
+"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he; "what have
+you done with your other clothes?"
+
+"Had to throw them away."
+
+"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you are--and
+from that direction."
+
+This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate standing with
+a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels, I had felt no
+visible contrast with them. Since I had left the wagon I had had no time
+for thought of personal appearance. Now I looked at myself. My hands
+were scratched with briers; my hat was torn; a great hole was over one
+knee, which I had used most in crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having
+been more rapid than cautious in crossing the creek. For more than
+twenty-four hours my mind had been on too great a strain to think of the
+body. By the side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general
+questioning an uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.
+
+"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The horses
+have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I need one, but
+it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to know."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route which we had
+followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones the position and
+force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken and he left, he could
+report to General Morell. We avoided the fields and roads, and stuck to
+the woods, keeping a sharp lookout ahead, but going rapidly. At the
+first water which we saw I took time to give my head a good souse.
+
+Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above Crump's
+Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at our left,
+seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I crept toward the
+road until I could see part of it winding over the hill. About
+twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they numbered just
+twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going at a gallop up the
+hill, and apparently excited--running from danger, I thought. They
+disappeared over the hill. I thought it quite likely that some of our
+cavalry were advancing on the road, and that it would be well for me to
+wait where I was; if I should go back and call Jones to come, our men
+might pass while I was gone.
+
+In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow walk,
+another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were armed with
+lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I remembered much talk in
+the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment of lancers.
+
+As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I boldly
+left my place of concealment and walked out into the road. The cavalry
+halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I shall here call
+Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode out a little to the
+front of his men, and said, "So you have given it up?"
+
+"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of it."
+
+"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up behind one
+of my men. We want you."
+
+For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road before their
+eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain cried out, "Here,
+Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the rear!"
+
+"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades is near
+by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he interrupted me,
+crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your comrades. No more
+from you, sir!"
+
+As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant and
+detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the sergeant,
+but he refused to hear me.
+
+This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a short
+while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not understood
+from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct duty that I had
+not once thought of my pretended character. For his part, the captain
+had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter coming into the Union
+lines. This was now simple enough, but why, under such circumstances, he
+had not questioned me in regard to what was in his front, I could not at
+all understand. I tried again to speak, but was commanded to be silent.
+
+This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only serious
+consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he would wait for me
+indefinitely, and would be captured. Although such a result could bring
+no blame to me, yet I was very anxious about him. Concerning myself, I
+knew that I could suffer restraint but a very short time; just so soon
+as I could get speech with any officer willing to listen, I should be
+set right.
+
+The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's shop,
+some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought before Colonel
+Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry regiments which had
+advanced from Old Church on that morning.
+
+Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the regiments were
+under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported that I was a
+Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry had found in the
+woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded, and began to
+question me.
+
+"When did you leave your regiment?"
+
+"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.
+
+"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be sure
+that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"
+
+"The 24th, I think, sir."
+
+"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"
+
+"From what place, Colonel?"
+
+"Why, from Hanover."
+
+"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."
+
+"What is your regiment?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."
+
+The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his
+countenance.
+
+"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man, Sergeant?"
+
+The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, Colonel. I
+only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried to talk to
+Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send him back
+at once."
+
+"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a smile.
+
+"Then what are you doing here?"
+
+"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."
+
+"But what were you doing when you were captured?"
+
+"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the lancers, I
+was returning from a scout."
+
+"What brigade do you belong to?"
+
+"General Grover's."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"General Hooker's."
+
+"Where is your regiment now?"
+
+"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was there on
+the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."
+
+The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate deserter; he
+was beginning to believe my story; his tone altered.
+
+"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"
+
+"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was just
+returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but they would
+not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would not let me speak."
+
+The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you are a
+Union soldier?"
+
+"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to carry
+anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to General Morell."
+
+"Where is General Morell?"
+
+"On the reserve line near New Bridge."
+
+"Why send you to General Morell?"
+
+"Because I must make my report to him."
+
+"Did he send you out?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to General
+Morell?"
+
+"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about, but it is
+perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to General Morell,
+the whole matter will be cleared up to your satisfaction. I beg you to
+do so at once. I know that General Morell will consider my report
+important, and will be disappointed if it should be delayed, sir."
+
+"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your person. I
+shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim you and
+justify your claims."
+
+"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and what would
+you do with me?"
+
+"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say you are
+not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not need you."
+
+"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come
+voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"
+
+"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union man, but
+you cannot prove it."
+
+"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General Morell, I
+beg that you at once send back for my companion."
+
+"What companion?"
+
+"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany me. He
+is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our horses, and
+I fear he will wait too long for me, and be captured."
+
+"By the lancers?"
+
+"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."
+
+"But why did you not tell me this before?"
+
+"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General Morell; you
+refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify me to you; but
+time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."
+
+Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who at once
+went off, accompanied by his two men.
+
+"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the colonel.
+
+"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."
+
+"But if I order you to report to me?"
+
+"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"
+
+"What has that got to do with it?"
+
+"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to betray his
+cause," said I.
+
+"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.
+
+"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one, after
+having reached safety?"
+
+"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been lost, and
+if so you are properly a prisoner of war."
+
+"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition of the
+Union army?"
+
+"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the benefit
+of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the presence of
+the enemy."
+
+"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our advanced
+troops should be in any danger."
+
+"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking a small
+force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's nest."
+
+"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."
+
+"What force is in our front?"
+
+"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery. There are
+cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."
+
+"And where are they?"
+
+"The cavalry?"
+
+"The whole force of which you speak."
+
+"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day this
+morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."
+
+"Do you know who commands them?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"General Branch."
+
+"Did you see him?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How then do you know that he is in command?"
+
+"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not know that
+General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know that the
+troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."
+
+"How did you learn it? A man told you?"
+
+"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."
+
+"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.
+
+I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers. It was
+easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I was telling
+the truth.
+
+In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and
+accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once handed
+the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in little more than
+two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and made my report.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with valuable
+results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not moved, and
+that he would gladly send a statement of my work to General Grover, and
+would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme until actually ordered
+back to the left. He then told me to go back to my quarters and rest;
+that I must get all the rest I could, and as quickly as possible.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me, to shield
+my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon at Dr. Khayme's
+tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing off the hot blanket.
+Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised her hands; in an instant
+she sat again, trembling. She was very white.
+
+"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you: Father
+prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at the
+earliest." She was still all a-tremble.
+
+"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide from all
+eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the Doctor?"
+
+"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is; he said
+he should be back to supper."
+
+Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have had hard
+work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to know what
+success you have had."
+
+"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.
+
+"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.
+
+"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all night
+with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to learn."
+
+"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest till he
+comes, although I should like to hear all about it."
+
+"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be plain
+with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with all the
+clothes I've got."
+
+She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You need rest,
+though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get some sleep."
+
+When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would not
+come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand open the
+tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and saw my name on
+the package, which proved to contain a new uniform. I dressed and went
+out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking supper. I asked him who gave
+him the package he had put into the tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done
+sont me wid a note to de ginnle en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en'
+dat man he gimme de bunnle."
+
+The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a detailed
+account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with interest as I talked,
+and Lydia saying not a word.
+
+When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for her
+interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I was trying
+to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new
+uniform, Doctor?"
+
+"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her father.
+
+Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and torn--that I
+pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not knowing what else
+to do."
+
+"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the
+conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack Built."
+
+"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the note. I am
+thinking that I'll become a collector of autographs."
+
+"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the log,
+come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he was trying
+to desert?"
+
+"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered with him.
+Speed was what I wanted just then."
+
+"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he can come."
+
+"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said Lydia;
+"if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray us?"
+
+"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the simple
+truth," said the Doctor.
+
+"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had accepted
+his company."
+
+"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain Lewis,"--the
+Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by his name,--"in
+talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your voice loud enough
+for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved you at once."
+
+"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at all.
+Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones would have
+settled matters."
+
+"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you were
+Roderick Dhu."
+
+"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact, all
+those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect that the
+captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command in front of
+Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and that he blustered to
+hide his scare."
+
+It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The Doctor had
+smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not fill it again.
+He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have done a good day's
+work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched between two days. General
+Morell ought to reward you."
+
+"I do not want any reward," said I.
+
+"You would not like a commission?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.
+
+"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to you in
+many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be really
+lighter, but you would command more respect from others. That captain of
+the lancers will not think of apologizing to you; but if he knew you as
+Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to write you a note. If promotion
+is offered you,--and it ought to be offered,--you ought not to
+refuse it."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that way."
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BATTLE OF HANOVER
+
+     "The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.
+     Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
+     By diligent discovery; but your haste
+     Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General Morell.
+
+"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard work.
+Have you had a good rest?"
+
+I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I had
+suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.
+
+"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you must help
+me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn will come,
+too, some day."
+
+"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"
+
+"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been fully
+corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some six to ten
+regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or was there last
+night, and is supposed to be there now. A division of this army will
+march against Branch. Now I will show you what you must do for us.
+Here," pointing on the map to a road running south, along the railroad
+from Hanover Court-House, "here you see the road you were on with the
+wagons. At this point--a mile and a half or two miles southeast of
+Hanover--is the road running down the river--the road you followed after
+crossing Crump's Creek. The force which will march against Branch will
+be sufficient to crush him, and we must prevent him from escaping in
+the direction of Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on
+his right. Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--_his_
+right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into the
+Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should simply drive
+him toward Richmond."
+
+"Yes, sir; I see," said I.
+
+"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and nearer
+Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a considerable
+distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he has been put where
+he is for the purpose of observing our right and rear until he is
+reënforced. On the 23d, we occupied Mechanicsville, and our possession
+of that place may have so interfered with or so threatened Branch's
+plans that he will make some movement. The truth is, to be frank with
+you, he is in a false position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction
+at once and unite there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march
+from Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
+army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want you to
+understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you, and because I
+think I can trust you."
+
+"Well, General?"
+
+"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do in a
+critical moment."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our attack
+should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover Court-House, and
+find that the rebels have left that place and have moved further south,
+we shall be attacking their left instead of their right, and they can
+retreat toward Richmond. In case they have moved south, we must not
+march on the Court-House; we must attack their right, wherever that may
+be. Now, that is what you must do for us: find out where Branch's right
+flank rests before we make the attack."
+
+"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"When do you march, General?"
+
+"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You will have
+to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next day."
+
+"I can see one thing, General."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of its moving
+after I report."
+
+"Very well; hang to it."
+
+"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I do hang
+to it."
+
+"As much help as you want."
+
+"Have you another man as good as Jones?"
+
+"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"
+
+"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be thoroughly
+depended upon."
+
+"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you want, and
+anything else that you want--speak out."
+
+"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for you,
+General?"
+
+"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of Branch!"
+
+"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is Jones
+and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be found, I want
+only Jones."
+
+"What would be your plans?"
+
+"I should report by the third man the first information of importance;
+then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang to it myself, and
+report if it moves. You will need to know where Branch's right is at the
+moment when you are ready to strike--not where it was an hour before."
+
+"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be found."
+
+"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such a man.
+He might get himself caught and endanger your whole plan."
+
+"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I must tell
+you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the movement. Warren is
+now at Old Church; he will march by the road that you were on yesterday,
+while we march upon roads at his left. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"Then that is all."
+
+"May I say a word, General?"
+
+"Yes; certainly."
+
+"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a shorter
+distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement before they
+know of yours, they will almost be sure to change position."
+
+"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed not to
+attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to General
+Porter again about this."
+
+"Can I see Jones, General?"
+
+"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, sir."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"After breakfast."
+
+"Can you think of nothing else you need?"
+
+"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."
+
+"Nothing else?"
+
+"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about that, but
+I know that Dr. Khayme has none."
+
+"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.
+
+"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I could not
+help him."
+
+"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet laughing.
+
+"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for it."
+
+"Well, I'll send it through Jones."
+
+"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."
+
+"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own, or
+rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."
+
+"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there anything
+about it to betray me?"
+
+"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you have
+thought of everything?"
+
+"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind before we
+start, I'll let you know."
+
+"Be sure to do it."
+
+Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man named Frank
+were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I learned, was
+chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones what we should
+need, and he promised to be ready.
+
+In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia sat
+silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left wing had
+crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried to start an
+argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by war, but meeting no
+encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is that I needed rest and
+sleep. When the Doctor had had his first smoke, Lydia rose and took his
+pipe from him. "We must tell Mr. Berwick good night, Father. He has work
+to do to-morrow."
+
+The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia was
+right. Lydia did not laugh.
+
+Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly refreshed.
+While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in with me, Jones and
+Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and we soon were off.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across the
+Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and work our
+way toward the Confederate right and rear.
+
+We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far above the
+place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and then took to the
+woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had ascertained from the
+map, was at the west of the railroad. We were now on neutral ground. The
+usual order of our advance was Jones in the lead, I following him at not
+more than forty yards, and Frank coming behind me at more than twice
+that distance. Jones was directed to halt and ride back every time that
+he should see anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have
+occasion to observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
+Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
+order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
+fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he waved
+his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I had pulled
+up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke in front."
+
+I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no noise,
+but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees, which, he
+said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was directed to
+dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn what caused it.
+He returned very soon, and said there was a house in a small field just
+before us, and that a wide road ran in front of the house. We made a
+detour and passed on.
+
+About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the road, as
+I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about halfway between
+Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across the Chickahominy, and
+still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of one of its branches. We
+crossed the road, selecting a place where there were two sudden bends,
+and looking well both ways before venturing. After crossing, I directed
+Jones to take his stand near the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road
+from the upper bend, while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had
+made in crossing the road. We were now within less than a mile of the
+Virginia Central railroad.
+
+I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went with Jones
+toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or rather as far from it
+as he could be and yet see it. Then I returned to Frank and took his
+place, directing him to find Jones and then occupy a position as nearly
+as possible halfway between Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect
+me with Jones and to care for the three horses, which were brought
+together in the centre lest they should be heard. We were now in
+position to observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
+Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
+the night.
+
+From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for half
+the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of course, that I
+could hear the trains. Rain had set in at nightfall.
+
+About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up the road.
+I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, I could make
+out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a company. I concluded
+that the rebels were to the north of us, that is to say, that if they
+had moved at all, they were yet between us and Hanover Court-House.
+
+After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much more
+definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones. The three
+of us then made north, through the woods, leading our horses. We had a
+hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the trees struck our
+faces. There was hardly enough light to see the trunks of the trees. At
+last we reached an opening through which I feared to advance.
+
+We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The rebels were
+yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might be anywhere--might
+be upon us at any moment.
+
+Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to find
+that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the north. I
+returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road and continued
+north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half a mile. It was now
+nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods on this dark night there
+was little fear of encountering any enemy; their cavalry pickets would
+be in the roads.
+
+I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles from us,
+and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we ought soon to see
+the light of his camp-fires.
+
+Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us. I
+directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his
+horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I went forward on foot,
+Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At the bottom of the hill I
+found a small stream. Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and
+all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the
+open. At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small
+pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this
+thicket I saw more open ground before me. I went back, hoping to find my
+comrades at the branch. As I went down the hill I heard them coming down
+the opposite slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the
+horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
+and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.
+
+The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them
+from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as
+the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few
+hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly
+half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but
+narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could
+see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by
+camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable
+distance--perhaps more than a mile away.
+
+Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the road was
+only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with woods on the
+other side of it, and that on our right there was nothing but a wood
+which extended to a swamp.
+
+Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they rolled
+themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine bush. The
+rain was pouring down.
+
+At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our way across
+the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would soon, wash out
+all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved southward some
+miles, increasing his distance from the Pamunkey.
+
+We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our forces again.
+Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and Frank in the centre.
+We moved northward, stopping every hundred yards or so, to be certain
+that our communications were intact. Jones was so near the railroad that
+I began to think the train of cars I had heard running had not been on
+the Central, but farther away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in
+this place runs almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the
+westward. In the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a
+greater distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me
+suspect that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for
+we should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
+decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
+toward the rear of the enemy's camp.
+
+It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the railroad. We
+still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad at our right at
+distances varying from one hundred to three hundred yards. We ascended a
+low hill, from which there might have been a good lookout but for the
+rain. I used General Morell's glass, but could not make out anything
+in front.
+
+Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than half a
+mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets must be very
+near to us.
+
+Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men keep a
+close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness to bring me
+my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the possibility of detection
+and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I found at the bottom of it a small
+brook flowing northeastward, and changed my course at once to suit the
+stream. I went slowly and cautiously on through weeds and bushes,
+sometimes wading down the stream itself, the water being already very
+muddy from the rains, and at last, while bending to right and left and
+up and down seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
+infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing south,
+and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west side of the
+railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved from Hanover
+Court-House, or else that here was another body of men who had taken
+position on his right.
+
+Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the hill, and
+directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to General Morell or
+General Porter, who would no doubt be met advancing on the road, and
+report that the enemy had taken such a position that in order to reach
+his right flank it would be necessary for the Union troops to cross to
+the west side of the Central railroad some miles south of Hanover
+Court-House. I directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch
+had really moved or had been reënforced, and to say that I should
+endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
+through Jones.
+
+Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.
+
+I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw that
+all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to sentiment.
+
+My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket, with which
+I had been covered all night as a protection from the rain. I took
+nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed Jones to remain where
+he was, and if I should not return in one hour, to conclude that I was
+entangled with the enemy, and that I could not get away in time; that he
+must assume from my absence that the rebel right extended far, because
+if it did not I should return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must
+start to meet our advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber
+himself with my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in
+the day. I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before
+the advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
+upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell before
+dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended the situation,
+and promised to follow my instructions.
+
+Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette; he was
+yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore, stretched across the
+branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a gully which favoured me,
+and crept to my left up the hill. At the top of the hill I entered
+thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and looked and listened. Drums
+could be heard toward the north, and seemingly nearer than before; I
+thought I could hear the long roll, and feared that the Union advance
+was already known by the Confederates.
+
+Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very slowly.
+My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in it, folded
+and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was already wet. Again I
+went forward slowly. Soon I saw another vedette, facing south. I
+retired, and made progress rapidly through the woods to my left; then I
+crawled up a long distance. I had hoped to be able to determine the
+right of the enemy's pickets and then return to Jones and send him with
+my report, while I should remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops
+when Jones should have succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found
+the pickets posted in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a
+very difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
+Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a prudent
+approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I would retreat
+through the woods until I was out of danger; then I would go fifty or a
+hundred yards to my left, and approach, again on my hands and knees
+until I discovered a man, when I would retreat again, and so on
+alternately. At one place I saw the picket-line itself stretching across
+the top of an open hill, with the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the
+hollow in front. I was compelled to go almost entirely around a field,
+taking a back track for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward
+again on the west side of the field.
+
+About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped in one
+respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more alert, and I
+felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the line. I made
+another advance, and this time continued advancing, for to my
+gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in front of me. I
+thought at first that it had been thrown back here, and that I was now
+going along the western front.
+
+To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went perhaps three
+hundred yards without finding anything, and felt convinced that there
+was no western front to the rebel line. I continued to advance eastward,
+going straight toward the railroad. At length I had gone a quarter of a
+mile, and had found nothing.
+
+Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been withdrawn
+while I was going around the field, and I conjectured that the
+Confederates had become aware of the approach of our column, and had
+retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our advancing troops.
+
+Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
+southeasterly direction.
+
+For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be well to
+state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the cavalry under
+General Emory, at the head of our column, and had reported to him as
+well as to General Morell; and that our column had advanced by the road
+we had left, had thrown out a skirmish-line which extended beyond the
+railroad, but not far enough, and had continued to advance until the
+enemy were felt.
+
+The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were of
+Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning of the
+battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.
+
+At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North Carolina
+under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head of Crump's
+Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column, which had thus
+interposed, without knowing it, between the two bodies of Confederates.
+At the first warning of the Union advance, General Branch had formed his
+troops facing the east and southeast, and covering the Ashcake road,
+which runs in a sort of semicircle from the Hanover road to Ashland on
+the west, so that the attack of the Union forces against the main body
+of rebels merely forced them to give ground in the direction of Ashland.
+Lane, at Taliaferro's Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did
+later in the afternoon with considerable loss.
+
+Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having moved
+somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our troops. I soon
+became aware of this fact by seeing straggling Confederate soldiers in
+the woods in several directions; some of them seemed to be wounded.
+
+Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this time it
+was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of battle were
+advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me, giving me no
+attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining still, however,
+but walking about in the woods in order to prevent the possibility of
+being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited the issue.
+
+Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I began to
+fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.
+
+An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a southeasterly
+direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring to throw a force in
+the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on nearly to Hanover
+Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment, leaving Branch on their left
+flank and in position to do great damage[2]. Branch attacked vigorously,
+but was eventually forced back. Again men began to rush by me, and this
+time some of them were in actual flight. There were many wounded;
+gradually the woods were scattered over with a regiment or two, the
+troops showing various degrees of disorganization, some of the companies
+holding together and retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups,
+were making their way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet
+all in the same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
+rallying-place.
+
+[2] On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's brigade.
+The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the Pamunkey, no
+doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating northward. Lane
+was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch for some days; the
+story of his retreat and return to Branch is very interesting. [ED.]
+
+Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I decided
+quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for me to remain
+an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I thought, too, that
+it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out of this mass of men by
+going in a northerly or southerly direction, either of which would be
+taking them in line, if they could be said to have a line. I saw, of
+course, that if I should simply stop--it would have been easy to play
+the wounded Confederate--the Union troops would soon pick me up; but I
+wanted to see where the defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly
+wounded, I suppose, threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up
+the gun--an Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to
+me, the disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
+stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw away. I
+soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my own
+canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the rebels--I
+became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.
+
+No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen. The
+Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon make a
+stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the contagion and
+ran along with running men, although I was sure that organised bodies
+were now covering our rear. I had no distinct purpose except to
+determine the new line.
+
+After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of the
+scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding about and
+trying to make the men get into some sort of formation. Evening was
+near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me the brigade would
+be formed again and would make a new stand, or else retreat in better
+order in the night.
+
+I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but felt
+confident that Jones would recover him.
+
+As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at last
+ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line across a
+road running to the westward, which I believed, from my knowledge of the
+map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this forming line I
+hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make no pretence of
+joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far from it. Then the
+thought came to me that these disorganized battalions ware forming in
+any shape they could now take--men belonging to different companies,
+and even to different regiments, being side by side; so I got into line
+with them.
+
+I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a spy
+might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.
+
+The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the soldier, but
+they were very bitter against some general or other unknown to me, and
+equally so to them, as it appeared; he had allowed them to be defeated
+when they could easily have been reënforced. From the talk which I heard
+I drew the inference that there was a large force of Confederates within
+supporting distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me
+so greatly that I determined to remain longer with these troops--perhaps
+even until the next day.
+
+It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I could
+see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road to
+Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not see it;
+but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still unbroken,
+under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It would have been
+very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time, either to the right
+or to the left, into the woods--or into open ground for that matter--and
+get away, but such was not now my intention.
+
+The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while on the
+march to find their respective regiments and companies. Mounted
+men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying out: "Flag of
+Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is behind you," and so
+on, thus telling the men where to find their commands. It was really
+good work, I thought. A little before midnight--or it may have been much
+earlier, for I was well-nigh worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads
+which I afterward knew to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond
+roads about a mile and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men
+could easily find their commands, and I knew that perfect organization
+would be effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
+formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.
+
+By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east for
+perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first spreading
+my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted almost to
+exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my predecessor's
+haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food, and slept soundly the
+remainder of the night.
+
+At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I found in
+the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my gun and
+accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three bands; the
+cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single waist-belt, the
+scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no bayonet. The brass plate
+on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S. plate; the belt-buckle also
+was Federal; both plate and buckle had been turned upside down, so that
+each bore the inverted letters S U. There were a few cartridges in the
+box--such cartridges as I had not seen before. I found that the rifle
+was not loaded, and I allowed it to remain empty.
+
+After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had gone. I
+examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud were pointing
+toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time openly in the road,
+for I was as good a Confederate as need be unless I should be overtaken
+by any of our own men. I considered now that this force of the enemy was
+likely to establish connection at once with the main Confederate lines
+near Richmond, if indeed it had not already done so, and that if I
+should turn southward I should be in danger of being forced into the
+ranks and questioned, so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine
+if possible the left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme
+left of the whole Confederate army.
+
+In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of the
+village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an hour after
+sunrise placed myself in observation between the Fredericksburg railroad
+and the Richmond road, which here run parallel due north and about half
+a mile apart. I was facing south.
+
+About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the rear of
+my left the Richmond road full of troops marching southward. I crawled
+up as near to the road as I dared, and watched them. There seemed to be
+but one regiment, which was a large one. Three or four officers rode at
+the head of the regiment; one, who I supposed was the colonel, was a
+large, heavy-built man who sat his horse proudly[3]. The men marched at
+the route step; the regiment was in fine order. In the centre were two
+flags: one an ordinary Confederate battle-flag; the other an immense
+blue banner, emblazoned with the silver palmetto tree. I could not tell
+the number of the regiment, although by this time I had my glass fixed
+on the flag. The Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed,
+entered Ashland.
+
+[3] Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
+Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina. [Ed.]
+
+I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained in this
+position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement. At nightfall I
+crept up nearer to the village and found a comfortable resting-place in
+an old haystack, east of the place.
+
+The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad, with the
+purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied by the
+rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw three Union
+soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at the same time.
+One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw up my hands. They
+belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry. I easily succeeded in
+proving to the lieutenant in command, who soon rode up at the head of
+the company, and whose name I learned was Watkins, that I was a Union
+scout. The sight of General Morell's glass had its effect.
+
+I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong force in
+Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town. The
+lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash into the
+place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in our hands. In
+the village were some stragglers who also were made prisoners. We
+remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry securing much
+property. There were a good many horses taken, one of which the
+lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.
+
+The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all the
+country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was nothing to
+hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The general told me
+that they had given me up for lost, and asked what had become of me
+after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my work, and he was
+pleased to say that he approved of what I had done. He told me that
+Jones had recovered the horse that I had abandoned.
+
+As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering it; the
+tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle; then I called
+him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few words I told him of
+my work, and why I had been away so long.
+
+"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to Lydia, too,
+who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded from
+your battle."
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE ACCURSED NIGHT
+
+     "If ever I were traitor,
+     My name be blotted from the book of life,
+     And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very tired,
+although I had had a good rest the night before, and alternations of
+walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon despatched, and the
+Doctor got his pipe.
+
+"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on your own
+dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake brought it."
+
+"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can content
+myself till bedtime as I am."
+
+"How long have you had it on?"
+
+"Almost two days."
+
+"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"
+
+"Not just at this moment, Doctor."
+
+"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians again?"
+
+"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."
+
+"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"
+
+"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."
+
+"It was the First, very likely," said he.
+
+This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many times
+before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr. Khayme. I
+thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was that he
+obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.
+
+"Why should you think so, Doctor?"
+
+"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications with our
+Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with Charleston. I know
+that the First South Carolina regiment was on Sullivan's Island early in
+1861, some months before the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and I remember
+reading in the _Mercury_ that the ladies of Charleston had presented the
+First with a very heavy blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver
+palmetto and crescent."
+
+"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto and the
+crescent."
+
+"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one of the
+regiments which were lately under Anderson near Fredericksburg, and we
+know that Anderson's force has fallen back on Richmond. It must have
+passed through Ashland very recently."
+
+"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to know,"
+said I, musingly.
+
+"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."
+
+"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and somebody had
+recognized me?"
+
+"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might have
+recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet might have
+sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to everybody at school
+that you were from the North?"
+
+"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of course,
+some of the boys knew it."
+
+"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man in the
+Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."
+
+"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their homes; that
+is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who reason, and the
+others don't count."
+
+"They might at least be neutral," I said.
+
+"How could they think that being neutral would defend their homes?"
+
+"And you think that the Southern people really believe their homes in
+danger?"
+
+"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen more than
+one Southern home destroyed?"
+
+"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South, far away
+from the armies."
+
+"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from armies;
+to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."
+
+"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also. I wonder
+what's the matter with us."
+
+"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true, I have
+been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you. Our trades,
+however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this time, if ever."
+
+"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't wish
+to," said I.
+
+"You need never fight another battle," said he.
+
+"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.
+
+"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day; you
+ought not to fight at all."
+
+"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"
+
+"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."
+
+"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall likely
+be required to do both."
+
+"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the
+Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is not
+very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of course, you
+can do so if you insist upon it."
+
+"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"
+
+"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."
+
+"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh unless I
+had other work at the time."
+
+"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your cause, or
+your poorest?"
+
+"Can I not do both?"
+
+"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and make an
+art of it."
+
+"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a terrible
+thought to me."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."
+
+"You allude to your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What effect does spying have upon you?"
+
+"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted in my
+life as when I came back on the 24th."
+
+"You had had a hard time, no doubt."
+
+"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I believe
+that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was a
+Union soldier."
+
+"That only shows that you acted your part."
+
+"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a
+Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the next
+moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."
+
+"Very likely."
+
+"I'd prefer being in the ranks."
+
+"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your
+sufferings?"
+
+"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly contrasted
+with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I become another,
+and I can see two of me at once."
+
+"And that proves painful?"
+
+"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order to
+succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."
+
+"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones; the
+relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But for your
+recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent real and
+practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could not become,
+in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends largely on memory.
+The extraordinary vividness of your memory produces a corresponding
+vividness in imagining. You see how valuable are your peculiar powers. I
+have no doubt that with a little data concerning some narrow section of
+the South, such as knowledge of family names and family history, you
+could join the Confederate army and play a most important role, giving
+to your generals information of contemplated movements as well as of
+movements, in actual progress."
+
+"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a life."
+
+"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my emotion;
+"I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more likely to confirm
+your intermittent states. What you need is to get rid entirely of any
+necessity for the exercise of either memory or imagination for a time.
+To cherish either is to cherish both. On the contrary, any great and
+long-continued interest, which would dissociate you from your past,
+would, in my judgment, prove the end of your peculiar states."
+
+I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time. When he
+spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and hope for the
+best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the total. Keep up your
+spirits. War has many startling opportunities as well as disasters."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were heard miles
+away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the whole of
+McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company was actually
+in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report for me to our
+adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the Doctor's solicitation, a
+few words to General Grover.
+
+This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it, raged
+during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June 1st, and
+did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of McClellan's
+left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in reserve, and did not
+become engaged. While the battle was in progress, intense but subdued
+excitement was shown by the men in General Morell's command, and by the
+other troops on the right. On the part of all, there was constant
+expectation of orders to march to the help of the Union forces on the
+further side of the Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle
+came, in which our men had more than held their own, disappointment at
+not being chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed
+to feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his tent, he
+busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order came from
+General Morell for me to report to him at once.
+
+Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two officers
+unknown to me. The one who most attracted my attention--though I was
+careful not to show any curiosity--was a man of nearly forty years, of
+medium height and muscular frame. His hair was dark; his mustache very
+slightly tinged with gray. His manner indicated an extremely nervous
+sense of responsibility, and the attitude of deference, which the others
+observed in his regard, was very noticeable. His face reminded me
+vaguely of some portrait--I knew not whose.
+
+The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and of a more
+cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single opportunity. He seemed
+to be on a very familiar footing with the officer whom I have first
+mentioned.
+
+General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers. In the
+middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was spread, and
+around which the three officers were sitting. General Morell allowed me
+to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some words of a conversation
+which I supposed had been practically finished before I entered.
+
+"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the smaller
+officer.
+
+"Perfectly," said General Morell.
+
+The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.
+
+"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know certainly
+whether we have the means in hand."
+
+The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one way, then
+in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty our present
+purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single man?"
+
+"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not divulge our
+intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a reconnaissance."
+
+"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is serious."
+
+"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell has
+confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own way."
+
+"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any plan
+might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I should
+say that we have nine chances out of ten."
+
+"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the others
+rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."
+
+The three now left the tent, while I remained.
+
+I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any title
+given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles had been
+suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not know, but that
+they were in great authority was not to be doubted; I made a wild guess
+that one was General Porter and the smaller man some trusted
+staff-officer from army headquarters[4].
+
+[4] Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick
+describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts in the
+newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression. It is not a
+matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before been in the presence
+of the great general. [ED.]
+
+General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the table,
+then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At length he
+looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick, it is absolutely
+necessary for us here on this flank to get accurate information of the
+enemy's strength, and as soon as possible."
+
+"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.
+
+"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his left
+wing."
+
+"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.
+
+"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or not, it
+must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the country, with
+the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can be plainly seen
+from our lines. We do not know how well fortified, or how many, are the
+troops opposed to us. We have information, but we fear that it is not
+reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in some of the most essential
+points. We do not know the length of the enemy's line; we suppose it
+rests on the James River above Richmond as well as below Richmond. That
+makes too long a line to be very strong in all its parts. Their left may
+be a mere skirmish-line; their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some
+parts of their line must be very thin, and it is suspected that their
+left is the thinnest part."
+
+To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force under
+Anderson from Fredericksburg has reënforced the army now under Lee, and
+we are not sure what position it holds. The force under Jackson causes
+great apprehension. From several quarters we get rumours of an intention
+or supposed intention of Lee to march Jackson against our right. If
+there is such a purpose, we ought, by all means, to anticipate the
+movement. If we are ever to attack, it ought not to be after Jackson
+reënforces Lee."
+
+While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon myself
+than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were readily
+understood: their implications in regard to myself were equally clear;
+he wanted me to serve again as a getter of information. My stomach rose
+against my trade; I had become nauseated--I don't know a better word
+--with this spying business. The strain upon me had been too great; the
+23d and 24th of May had brought to my mental nature transitions too
+sudden and entire to be wholesome; I felt that only a positive command
+to enter the rebel lines would justify me in doing myself such violence
+again; I had begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.
+
+"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the man for
+our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more with the
+view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any intention of
+heeding his wishes.
+
+"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his left," said
+he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on our extreme
+right; we want you to find out what is opposite our right and what force
+extends beyond our front. The enemy's line curves or else has a salient
+somewhere beyond this point; his line turns somewhere and extends in
+some form to the James River. Find that salient or curve; ascertain its
+strength and the strength of their left, or western face."
+
+"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked, somewhat
+hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how impossible would
+be my suggestion.
+
+"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's lines,"
+said the general.
+
+It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice in the
+matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered me; but I
+was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to explain my
+reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity I should suffer
+the loss of his respect--something I did not wish to forfeit.
+
+"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night; remain a
+day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night. The distance is
+not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few miles within
+their lines."
+
+Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no doubt that
+he honestly believed the reputed charm of such adventures fascinated me
+as well as others. But if that man on that accursed night of June had
+seen what was going on in me, he would have been far from choosing Jones
+Berwick as the man to send upon an enterprise that demanded a fixed
+purpose and an undisturbed mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme
+to see to it that I had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should
+follow worse.
+
+But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how could I
+presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general of a
+division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable, and who,
+as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments only, in order
+that he might accomplish a purpose.
+
+I must decline or accept without explaining.
+
+"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is wrong?"
+
+Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no longer; "I
+should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I said.
+
+He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he asked;
+then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection, however; Dr.
+Khayme will help rather than hinder."
+
+"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser than I am;
+if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as you say,
+General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great help."
+
+"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want with Dr.
+Khayme?"
+
+"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"
+
+"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."
+
+"And what is the time now?"
+
+"Ten o'clock."
+
+"Can you wait my answer an hour?"
+
+"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.
+
+The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being treated
+as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if not--if the
+general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and good--I would
+obey without further delay or hesitation.
+
+I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go into the
+enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into the enemy's
+lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my answer an hour."
+
+"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.
+
+I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no unpleasantness.
+Though scouts are under orders just as other men are, it is not hard to
+understand that generals feel it necessary to be somewhat delicate in
+their treatment of such peculiar servants. I suppose that, in the mind
+of a general, there always exists some fear that his spies will not
+prove as diligent and self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in
+my treatment of General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear:
+such a course would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the
+effect of my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.
+
+"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much upon the
+apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to apologize. Give
+me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it, and without mental
+reservation."
+
+"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any order
+to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you know, too,
+that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."
+
+"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer that you
+send some other man on this expedition."
+
+"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this present
+work."
+
+"Then order me to go, General."
+
+"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in one hour
+if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me his hand.
+
+As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the work
+offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some effect on
+me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me; perhaps the
+mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak, had exaggerated my
+fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at any rate, before I had
+reached the Doctor I was beginning to sympathize with General Morell,
+whose responsibility was so great, and whose evident desire to
+conciliate had touched me, and was wishing that I could have served him.
+Then, too, the question came to me what would General Morell do in case
+my refusal was final? And I had little doubt that the correct reply was:
+He will command me. And, in that case, our relationship would be
+weakened unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly.
+Yet, with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this
+frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute could
+occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter extreme of
+mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of mental danger,
+could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.
+
+To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no embarrassment;
+I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered by a doubt as to how
+much I should tell him of the necessity which prompted the demand for my
+work. The three generals had spoken of important matters before me, or
+at least hinted at them, and General Morell had been still more
+communicative. I made up my mind to say nothing of these matters to
+the Doctor.
+
+When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his writing.
+As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from his seat.
+
+"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."
+
+He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it is only a
+momentary unsteadiness."
+
+Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was then in Dr.
+Khayme's.
+
+I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor placed a
+finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking for both
+of us."
+
+He rose and brought me water, and I drank.
+
+Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must make with
+his will against impulse is not easy, especially with some natures; and
+a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield once is to become
+weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"
+
+I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew I could
+not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew the mind if
+ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was going on in the mind
+by the language of the features and the body. Especially did he know me.
+But possibly his knowledge was only general; he might infer, from
+apparent symptoms, that some mental trouble was now pressing hard upon
+me, and, without knowing the special nature of the trouble, might be
+prescribing the exercise of the will as a general remedy. Yet it
+mattered nothing to me, at the moment, I thought, how he knew.
+
+"You will not yield," said he.
+
+I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of
+Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.
+
+"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to the
+little cottage in Charleston?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to will.
+Do you remember it?"
+
+Again I nodded assent.
+
+"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free. If I
+should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no good. All that
+I can do is to say that the will is free."
+
+His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he said,
+although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I should
+surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former ground. Yet I
+doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I wished that he
+would speak again.
+
+"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be unobserved, or
+dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man accustomed to keep himself
+in subjection can fail to distinguish temptation from surrender."
+
+How well he could read me!
+
+"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily weakness, or
+through fear--which is the same thing. But he who can will when he
+desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."
+
+I put his hand away and rose.
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.
+
+"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.
+
+"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.
+
+"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies you?"
+
+"I go alone."
+
+He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He understood.
+
+"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen your
+body."
+
+He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured a
+spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.
+
+"It will be slow and last long," said he.
+
+He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he turned the
+pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I needed.
+
+"Do you go armed?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."
+
+He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the haversack,
+and put food in it.
+
+Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."
+
+"Anything you wish, Doctor."
+
+"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."
+
+It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.
+
+"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this book. Turn
+to May 23d. I will dictate."
+
+It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages divided into
+sections, which were headed with dates for the year 1862.
+
+"Turn to May 23d," he had said.
+
+"I have it," said I.
+
+"Read the date," said he.
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."
+
+"Now write."
+
+The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers.
+Marched at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+"Marched but a few miles. Day very hot. Weather
+bad. Heavy rain at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past--"
+
+"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the Doctor
+asked.
+
+"Branch's."
+
+"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been
+fighting.'"
+
+Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and
+write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the book
+lengthwise, and write Jones."
+
+I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.
+
+"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."
+
+I put a capital B after Jones.
+
+"Let me see," said he.
+
+I showed him the book.
+
+"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before Jones."
+
+"Have you an eraser?"
+
+"I'll get one."
+
+The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B. before
+Jones.
+
+"We must get that dark spot out," said he.
+
+He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf, so that
+there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf above
+the writing.
+
+"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."
+
+"What is all this for, Doctor?"
+
+"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect you."
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?"
+
+"Ten minutes to eleven."
+
+"I must go."
+
+He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me bend to
+him, and kissed me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me through
+our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.
+
+The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My mind
+was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life; but the
+lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly understood, and I had
+voluntarily turned the die for duty after it had been cast for ease. All
+my hesitation had gone, leaving in its place disgust kept down by
+effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing;
+I had desire, but knew it unattainable, and renounced its object. I
+would not hope for a happiness that might bring ruin on another.
+
+To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate; life at
+the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not yielded to this
+feeling even; I would be prudent and would accomplish what was hoped
+for, if my strength should serve.
+
+In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's
+commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had rejected
+it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to first perform a
+duty for which the honour had been soothingly offered.
+
+My plans--I had no plans. I had started.
+
+What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I was
+making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for an
+opportunity--that was all.
+
+The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and bush, and
+many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To follow every crook
+of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of the swamp and began to
+skirt its edge. I looked toward my right--the northeast; the sky
+reflected a dim glow from many dying camp-fires. I could see how the low
+swamp's edge bent in and out, and how I could make a straighter course
+than the river. In some places a path was found. Our pickets were
+supposed to be on the edge of the hills behind me.
+
+My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at right
+angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of them
+successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which I knew it
+would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by the
+Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at times to see
+if it had narrowed.
+
+About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I crossed a
+railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The ground was covered
+with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and was soft and slippery from
+recent high water. My progress was soon interrupted by a stream, flowing
+sluggishly to my left. I sought a crossing. The stream was not deep, but
+the slippery banks gave me great difficulty in the darkness. The water
+came to my waist; on the further side were hollows filled with standing
+water left by the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the
+Chickahominy.
+
+Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was supposed
+the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise the greatest
+care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid stumbling on one of
+them in the darkness, was a problem. Very likely they were placed from a
+hundred to two hundred yards apart, and near the bank of the stream, if
+practicable, especially at night, for the stream itself would not only
+be their protection, but also, by its difficulty and its splashing,
+would betray any force which should attempt to cross to the south side.
+
+But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line of
+vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream, would
+require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line, and such a
+line of vedettes could not well be maintained constantly--never is
+maintained, I think, unless an enemy's approach is momentarily feared,
+in which case you frequently have no vedettes at all. Following up this
+thought I concluded that the vedettes were, most likely, watching their
+front from the inner bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had
+its convex side toward the north, was my opportunity.
+
+I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became very
+great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was almost
+completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge of
+the water.
+
+Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved it up and
+down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the ground. To make
+no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of an inch might have
+caused a loud splash.
+
+Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in it to my
+knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward, raising my foot
+not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye and ear to note the
+slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to my middle.
+
+I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I crawled
+forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than believing, that I
+was keeping halfway between the sides of the bend.
+
+I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute had passed
+I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other at my left. The
+sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the vedette on either side
+of me was being relieved. My course had been right--I was midway between
+two sentinels.
+
+How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that the
+pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills. Lying there
+between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that a picket-line is
+relieved early in the day when troops are in position, as the armies
+were now. If I could see the relief coming, I would show myself just at
+the time it arrived, hoping that each party would take me to belong to
+the other.
+
+But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose any one
+of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan
+impracticable, what then?
+
+I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would make
+some other plan as I crawled forward.
+
+At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets? That the
+country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew, and I hoped that
+for this reason their infantry would be less watchful; but this thought
+did not make me any the less prudent and slow in my advance. I had
+easily succeeded in passing the vedettes; to avoid the vedette reliefs
+might not be easy.
+
+When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just beginning to
+show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and pickets?
+Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought. Why not climb?
+Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the thick boughs of a
+cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at least, it could do no
+good unless in case of sudden necessity. I must get through the
+picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once in rear of the Confederate
+pickets, I should have little or no trouble in remaining for days in the
+camps and in the main lines; getting through was the difficulty.
+Daylight was increasing.
+
+Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to this
+edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a relief
+come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a non-commissioned
+officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty yards of me. I let
+them pass. They went into the swamp. Five minutes later two men returned
+by the same route, or almost so, but came a little nearer to me; I saw
+them coming and felt for my glass, but did not find it. I supposed that
+Dr. Khayme had forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no
+doubt the same non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just
+relieved from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could
+distinctly see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled
+appearance. These men had seen hard service, evidently.
+
+Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men at my
+left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the swamp. These
+men wore uniforms fresh and clean.
+
+The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two vedettes
+belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some way to take
+advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to no purpose.
+Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go back to the
+vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man of the connecting
+line? He would probably think that I belonged to the command joining
+his. No doubt I could do this; but what should I gain? I should merely
+be losing time.
+
+Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate vedette
+between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could do so there
+was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.
+
+Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going forward
+boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the hill. The
+pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could strike between
+the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing might be done. Yet I
+wanted a better way.
+
+Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs of a
+tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come. They were
+talking, but I could not hear what they said.
+
+I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a large gully,
+only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to be on their route.
+The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw them no more. My interest
+was excited. Why had the men gone into this gully? There was smoother
+ground outside. They had a purpose; I must find it out.
+
+Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I was on
+neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least. I could not
+know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every two hours. There
+would probably be nobody passing between vedettes and pickets--unless,
+indeed, some officer should go the rounds of the sentinels; that was
+something I must risk.
+
+I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of the
+gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view. I could
+now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I suspected that
+the picket-line stretched across it; but there was no indication of the
+purpose which had caused the men to go into the gully. My position was a
+good one, and I waited. I could see a part of the picket-line--that is,
+not the men, but the rifle-pits.
+
+Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an oblique
+direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He disappeared. He
+had gone down into this gully, which, I was now confident, separated by
+its width the pickets of different commands. What could this unarmed man
+be doing in the gully? Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping
+that an opportunity had been found.
+
+Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was coming from
+the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the same instant the
+unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he held his canteen in
+his hand. The situation was clear; there was water in the gully; my
+opportunity had come.
+
+I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before the
+vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth of the
+gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side of the gully;
+he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the man I had seen a
+moment before. I went into the gully. I must get to that spring or pool,
+or whatever it was, before another man should come.
+
+Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the spring--and it
+was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little hollow had been made
+by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the hands, on one side of the
+gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen earth would protect the hole
+from the midday sun, the only sun which could reach the bottom of this
+ravine, defended by its wall on either hand. The hole was so small that
+only one canteen could be filled at a time; but the water was good
+compared with that of the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty
+of getting pure water that justified the relaxation of discipline which
+permitted the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their
+vedette lines.
+
+Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I sat and
+waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and began scraping
+the mud from my shoes and clothing.
+
+I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down with
+one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.
+
+"Fill mine, too," said a voice.
+
+I did not look up.
+
+"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o'
+mosquitoes?"
+
+"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was on
+vydette."
+
+He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't git that
+mud off that-away; let it dry."
+
+I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of shelf in
+the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water for more
+than one man.
+
+"Gimme your canteen," said I.
+
+He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap
+Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged to
+the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied themselves, from
+battlefields and prisoners, and the greater capture of stores, with good
+Union canteens. Even while I was thinking this, he said, "What'll you
+take to boot 'twixt your canteen and mine?"
+
+"Don't want to swap," said I.
+
+I filled his canteen.
+
+"Now, gimme your hand," said I.
+
+He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it took two
+pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but knew that he
+was a small man.
+
+He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was new. We
+reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.
+
+Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill. There was a
+pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty feet wide. Had I
+known of the existence of that gully, I could have stolen through the
+picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had it guarded at night.
+
+"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own side?"
+
+"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.
+
+He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes and his
+clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He walked slowly
+up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be within the picket-line;
+it took all my will to preserve composure; I was glad the man was in
+front of me. We stepped slowly up the hill.
+
+I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down, probably,
+half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I was wishing my
+leader would speak again. The nervous tension was hard. What should I do
+when we reached the line? I had no plan, except to walk on. I wished my
+leader would continue to march, and go past the pits--then I could
+follow him; the trivial suggestion aroused self-contempt; I was thinking
+of straws to catch at. I must strengthen my will.
+
+He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."
+
+This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't see it,
+myself."
+
+"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.
+
+"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"So I could get some sleep."
+
+"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's shore."
+
+"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take care of
+myself."
+
+"Ben sick?"
+
+"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."
+
+"Bilious, I reckon," said he.
+
+"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."
+
+"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.
+
+"Wish I _could_ see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the word, mentally,
+with a capital.
+
+"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"
+
+"You don't know my captain," said I.
+
+"Hard on you, is he?"
+
+"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out here."
+
+"Bet _I'd_ go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.
+
+"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Send a man after me."
+
+"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet _our_ men won't stop you; you
+don't belong to _them_."
+
+This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any eagerness. We
+were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt that my friend was
+marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he was surely on the left of
+his company--he was such a small man.
+
+"Stop," said I.
+
+He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow. He had
+the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.
+
+"You won't give me away?" I said.
+
+"What do you take me for?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything to
+anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men, I'll go."
+
+"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I don't
+know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want to know
+it; come on."
+
+He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I saw men
+lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at some of the
+other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where my friend had
+halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to cause them to speak. He
+handed his canteen to one of the men; even this man did not speak;
+he drank.
+
+I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The sun itself
+could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken five minutes, for
+the pits were not more than a hundred yards from the edge of the swamp.
+
+Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe. How far
+in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could not yet
+tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when I
+reached them.
+
+As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the pits I
+went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by bushes, and I
+went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast direction for nearly an
+hour. I passed in full sight of the picket-line in many places, and
+fortifications far to my right could be seen upon the hills. My purpose
+was to enter the main Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible
+opposite New Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on
+the night before.
+
+The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I sat in a
+shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best. I believed I
+had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go forward. I could see
+parts of fortifications. No one would think of hindering my entrance. I
+would go into the lines; then I would turn to the right and follow out
+my instructions.
+
+Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was entirely bare
+of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were lines of earthworks.
+I did not pause; I went straight ahead.
+
+A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I
+thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would bring
+them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was some
+regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were going to
+relieve the last night's pickets.
+
+The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I heard a
+cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost directly in my
+rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far above my head.
+
+At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in any
+danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain their
+object on the other side of the Chickahominy.
+
+The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind the
+line of earthworks.
+
+I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although the shells
+went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into the place of
+danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no tree, no fence,
+nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and bare. I was on this
+bare hill.
+
+A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like myself, had
+no doubt come from the picket-line.
+
+"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for the
+breastworks.
+
+The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less height.
+
+One of the shells burst over my head.
+
+Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left hand--with great
+violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious that I saw him fall; at
+the instant there was a deafening noise, and I was conscious of nothing.
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MASK OF IGNORANCE
+
+                           "I am mainly ignorant
+     What place this is; and all the skill I have
+     Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
+     Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Don't know."
+
+My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me now. A
+gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.
+
+"Hurt bad?"
+
+"Head mashed."
+
+"Anybody else?"
+
+"One more, and _he's gone_!"
+
+I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but could not.
+
+I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my eyes
+threatened to break something in my head.
+
+I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly, and to
+become larger and smaller.
+
+Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.
+
+The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went by. The
+blue sky was over me. I did not stir.
+
+How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that I was
+conscious.
+
+I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait a
+second!"
+
+A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines ...
+these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night sky had
+been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over my head, and
+the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear of insanity. I
+have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot recollect what
+hurt me....
+
+But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were returning. I
+could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to me, by some
+unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear them
+step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and I could
+hear them speak, and breathe heavily.
+
+Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.
+
+We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a field,
+or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or thought I
+heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"--and again,
+"Hep! Hep! Hep!"
+
+Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is vivid while
+it lasts.
+
+Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I dreamed
+that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the ground.
+
+I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were strange.
+They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my eyes. I tried
+to think.
+
+"There he goes again," said a voice.
+
+I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face bending over
+me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head was bare. He had
+spectacles. He was not dirty.
+
+"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.
+
+I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a tent. There
+were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There were forms
+on the beds.
+
+The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one of them
+raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I supposed so,
+though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.
+
+I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man with the
+spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your head. You are
+not hurt badly."
+
+My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that must be
+true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not unreasonable. The man
+went away.
+
+But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that people
+awoke before they were hurt.
+
+The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He raised my
+head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to open my mouth,
+but could not.
+
+He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head in his
+hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put water into
+it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I drank. Both
+went away.
+
+The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in his
+hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt me;
+I groaned.
+
+"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your hair a
+little, so that I can get at you."
+
+Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my head
+get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.
+
+"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll promise to
+go to sleep."
+
+I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go to
+sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed inwardly
+at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.
+
+The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank. The water
+did not taste so good as the first draught did.
+
+I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would soon be
+over.
+
+When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was near
+me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned, while
+asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another man on
+another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat rolled down
+my face.... Where was I? What was I?
+
+My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to remember how
+I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the place of ... had I
+dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk much water; my throat
+was parched.
+
+A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my dream ...
+then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I was awake,
+maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and this tent and
+this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I awake I shall laugh at
+this dream; I shall write it out, because it is so complex and strange.
+
+The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"
+
+I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The man
+brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers on
+my wrist.
+
+"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his words
+would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could hope for a
+dream to end. He went away.
+
+I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my head. I
+felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I tried to turn,
+but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.
+
+The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and raised my
+head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and then went away,
+leaving me propped up.
+
+Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but feebly
+against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was a man. There
+were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five; five sick men. I
+wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they were all sick in the
+head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more strongly that all this
+horrible thing is unreal.
+
+I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, _six_; how is that?
+
+Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.
+
+Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they? Who am
+I? I know nothing--nothing.
+
+The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said, "Are you
+easier?"
+
+I could not reply. He went away.
+
+I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort brought
+increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I tried to
+sleep. I tried to quit thinking.
+
+When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent was
+very bright.
+
+A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He brought a
+basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face and hands, and
+dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you eat some breakfast?" I
+could not reply.
+
+The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The doctor
+was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The man on the
+pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I could not tell what
+the doctor said. The man groaned.
+
+Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to feel
+hungry.
+
+William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating in it.
+He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank. William
+went away.
+
+The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from outside.
+What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough to the railroad
+to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not from cars. I could hear
+shouting, as if of wagoners.
+
+All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the sun was
+shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be coming.
+
+I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would not do
+for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for a sick man
+in a storm.
+
+But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the reality.
+I know nothing.
+
+The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile in
+return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.
+
+The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who had
+groaned. The man was not groaning now.
+
+The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The doctor
+drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went out of the
+tent. A cold sweat was on me.
+
+Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a corner. They
+took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come back.
+
+Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was
+great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I had
+never before known it so warm.
+
+Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be with
+them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many days; I
+thought that I had been unconscious.
+
+The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in his
+hand--a book and a pencil.
+
+Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his arms
+were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the other man
+also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps officers of the
+Citadel battalion[5]. I wondered what I should be doing in their world.
+Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and for how
+long I did not know.
+
+[5] "The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in
+Charleston. [ED.]
+
+But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!
+
+The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the book to
+the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in the book, and
+gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man with the book went
+out of the tent.
+
+The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his shoulder.
+The first finger and the middle finger were stretched out; the other
+fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his hand and at his
+face, and wondered.
+
+He said, "Look! How many?"
+
+I said, "Two."
+
+He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing
+famously."
+
+He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding stools.
+He began to dress my head.
+
+"Your name is Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of good-will
+shown by his calling me by my first name.
+
+"What edge are you?"
+
+I was silent. I did not understand the question.
+
+"What edge are you?" he repeated.
+
+I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he had
+used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said, "What
+edge are you?"
+
+I thought he was meaning to ask my age.
+
+I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.
+
+"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.
+
+"I am in my twenty-second," I said.
+
+"The twenty-second what?" said he.
+
+"Year," said I, greatly astonished.
+
+He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.
+
+After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he inquired.
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"
+
+"That is my age," said I.
+
+"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not hear?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.
+
+Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a man in
+real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt relieved of
+many fears.
+
+"What are you smiling at?" he asked.
+
+"I've been dreaming," I said.
+
+"And your dream was pleasant?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You smile then at unpleasant things?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"I don't understand you," said he.
+
+"Neither do I," said I.
+
+"What is your regiment?" he asked.
+
+"Why do you ask such a question?"
+
+"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an
+answer," said he.
+
+"I have no regiment," I said.
+
+"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been unconscious?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I shall have
+to send you back to your regiment."
+
+"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.
+
+At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and gave me
+a bitter draught.
+
+I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was neither
+asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in my head was
+less violent.
+
+After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The doctor was
+standing by me.
+
+"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.
+
+The question came with something like a shock. I did not know how to
+reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I had not
+thought of home, than to find that I did not know a home,
+
+"Where is your home?" he repeated.
+
+"I do not remember," I said.
+
+"Where were you yesterday?"
+
+"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.
+
+He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are in South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"
+
+"Soldiers, you mean?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"I am not one of them," I said.
+
+"Try to remember," he said, and went away.
+
+The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the more did
+I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a wagoners'
+camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be soldiers here was too
+hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes must be a surgeon.
+
+The doctor came again.
+
+"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Better, I trust," said I.
+
+"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.
+
+"Fit for duty?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What duty?"
+
+"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"
+
+"I am not a soldier," I said.
+
+"Then why do you wear a uniform?"
+
+"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are taking
+me for another man."
+
+"You have on the uniform now," said he.
+
+He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.
+
+"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."
+
+"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.
+
+"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"
+
+"Yes. What district?"
+
+"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."
+
+"Who is your captain?"
+
+"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said, "I don't
+understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains. Do you belong
+to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you go to the Citadel?"
+
+"No; I think not," said I.
+
+"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"They are soldiers," I replied.
+
+"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You know something of Charleston?"
+
+"I've been there, I think."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Well; not very long ago."
+
+"How long? Try to think."
+
+"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am awake or
+dreaming."
+
+"Ask me questions," said the doctor.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"In the field hospital."
+
+"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know there
+was a hospital here."
+
+"Where do you think you are?"
+
+"In Aiken," I said.
+
+"Do you live in Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"
+
+"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more questions."
+
+"Give me some water," said I.
+
+He brought the water, and I drank.
+
+"Am I not in Aiken?"
+
+"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember whether
+your home is in Aiken."
+
+"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.
+
+"Where is your home?"
+
+"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get you out of
+this."
+
+"Out of this what?"
+
+"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things together
+yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get irritable."
+
+"I hope so," said I.
+
+"Ask more questions," said he.
+
+"How did I get here?"
+
+"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my infirmary men."
+
+"What men?"
+
+"Infirmary men."
+
+"What are they?"
+
+"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."
+
+"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"
+
+"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"
+
+"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days; but from
+what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."
+
+"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Were you not in Charleston?"
+
+"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in Aiken."
+
+His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said was
+puzzling to myself.
+
+"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's regiment.
+I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need something first."
+
+He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went out of
+the tent.
+
+To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything and
+nothing.
+
+Again that thunder.
+
+The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I believed
+he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain was confused I
+could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that was my comfort. He
+had given me medicine every time I felt worse; he was certainly a good
+doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the medicine was helping me.
+
+When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.
+
+"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.
+
+"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.
+
+"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several persons--you
+said something about Butler, and something also about Brooks
+and Sumner."
+
+"Was Brooks from Aiken?"
+
+"What Brooks?"
+
+"I don't remember," I said.
+
+"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't understand your
+talk about regiments. Why should there be regiments?"
+
+"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the pallets; "they
+have been wounded in battle."
+
+I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his words
+were wild.
+
+"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly, "tell me
+what day of the month this is."
+
+"The nineteenth," said I.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I read yesterday the Augusta _Constitutionalist_ of the
+eighteenth," said I.
+
+"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is getting
+well. Eighteenth of what?"
+
+"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said I.
+
+"It is indeed," said he.
+
+"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard thunder."
+
+"I did not hear any thunder," said he.
+
+"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.
+
+"What else did you dream?"
+
+"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."
+
+"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How old did you say you are?"
+
+"Twenty-one."
+
+"Do you know in what year you were born?"
+
+"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."
+
+"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"
+
+"Fifty-nine," said I.
+
+"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.
+
+I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel strangely
+calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my side.
+
+"You can trust me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+I looked at him, and said nothing.
+
+"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are thinking
+that one of us two is crazy."
+
+"Yes," said I.
+
+"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are suffering a
+little in the head, but there is no longer any danger to your brain
+at all."
+
+"I think I am dreaming," said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no harm."
+
+He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong in that.
+
+"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what have you
+dreamed while I wan gone?"
+
+"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."
+
+"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.
+
+I shrank, and he laughed.
+
+"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened since
+you were in Aiken?"
+
+I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.
+
+"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said, "but it
+may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I thought."
+
+"How did I get hurt?" I asked.
+
+"You were knocked down," said he.
+
+"Who did it?" I asked.
+
+"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference which one
+did it; we all know that you were in the right."
+
+"There was a quarrel?" I asked.
+
+"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity at once
+by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did not, you would
+make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you would become more and
+more bewildered. I can put you right. But can you make up your mind to
+accept the situation as it is, and bear up in the hope that you will
+come right in the end?"
+
+I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my mind. It
+was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank. It was not
+fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition was more
+favourable.
+
+"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the whole
+truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist. After all,
+there is nothing in it but what you might have reasonably expected when
+you were in Aiken in eighteen fifty-nine."
+
+"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.
+
+"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."
+
+"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"
+
+"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or at
+least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience from
+October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."
+
+"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all gone?"
+
+"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."
+
+I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it was hard
+for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six months--but, no;
+he was not saying I had been unconscious for six months--nobody could
+live through such a state--he was telling me that I could not remember
+what I had known six months ago.
+
+"What month is this?" I asked.
+
+"June," said he; "June 4th."
+
+"From October to June is a long time," I said.
+
+"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen fifty-nine,"
+said he.
+
+"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.
+
+"On my honour," said he.
+
+"And I have lost eight months of my life?"
+
+"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but temporary.
+You will get right after a while."
+
+"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"
+
+"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am trying now
+to find your regiment."
+
+"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to accept that?"
+
+"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive you?
+Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."
+
+"Because--" said I.
+
+"Because what?"
+
+"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me good."
+
+"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These hills
+around you are covered by an army."
+
+"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.
+
+"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."
+
+"What Richmond?"
+
+"In Virginia."
+
+"And what brought _me_ here? Why should I be here?"
+
+"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no doubt, and
+while your mind acted perfectly."
+
+"But why should I have come?"
+
+"Because your regiment was ordered to come."
+
+"And why should there be an army?"
+
+"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend your
+country, and your regiment was ordered here."
+
+"Country invaded? Volunteered?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then we are at war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"With England?"
+
+"No; not with England, with the United States."
+
+I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.
+
+"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I laughed
+again.
+
+"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a few
+minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you remember
+how many states compose the United States?"
+
+"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.
+
+"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine," said he;
+"but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the most of the
+Southern states--have seceded and have set up a government of their own.
+We call ourselves the Confederate States of America. Our capital is
+Richmond. The Northern states are at war with us, trying to force us
+back into the Union, as they call it. War has been going on for more
+than a year."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight
+months."
+
+"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"
+
+"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."
+
+He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The written page
+was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written some eight or ten
+names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B, such a regiment;
+Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on. Upon one line there
+was nothing written except _B. Jones_.
+
+Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date. The
+paper was the Richmond _Examiner_; the date, Wednesday, June 4, 1862.
+
+"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.
+
+I laughed.
+
+He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year. The
+great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and the
+Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he added, "I
+will show you."
+
+He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both sides.
+
+"Look!"
+
+I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow latitude. I
+could see tents, their numbers increasing as perspective broadened the
+view. I could see many men passing to and fro.
+
+"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for miles."
+
+I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face; I
+wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too false;
+at once my hands fell back.
+
+I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none before.
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+ONE MORE CONFEDERATE
+
+     "Thy mind and body are alike unfit
+     To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
+     When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
+          But whither?"--BYRON.
+
+I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the surgeon's
+repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the pain had almost
+gone. My stomach was craving food.
+
+It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle of the
+tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my dream had
+changed; the tent seemed larger.
+
+The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had heard
+them talking before I opened my eyes.
+
+"I should like to have him, Frank."
+
+Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every adjutant in
+the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But he knows that he
+is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are sufficient proof of
+that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows the movements of no other
+brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your company, Captain."
+
+"Can I do that without some authority?"
+
+"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be called
+for, and you can return him to his company."
+
+"What do you think of it, Aleck?"
+
+"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say exceptional,"
+said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide for miraculous
+contingencies."
+
+"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible to
+make it regular until his company is found. What else can you suggest?"
+
+"I don't know. Can't we wait?"
+
+"Wait for what?"
+
+"Wait till we find his people."
+
+"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him then?--turn
+him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I tell you we can't
+find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found it, and that he is fit
+for duty, or will be in a few days; he is not a fit subject for the
+general hospital, and I wouldn't risk sending him there; Powell would
+wonder at me."
+
+"Can't you keep him a while longer?"
+
+"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the matter
+with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to be
+attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It will all
+necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of _some_ company,
+and I want to see him placed right."
+
+"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."
+
+"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before he has a
+place to go to. I think I have the right, in this miraculous
+contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you, at least
+temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner or later we'll
+hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man. His memory will return
+to him, so that he'll know where he belongs."
+
+"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his company is
+found, of course I shall be compelled to let him go."
+
+"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear for him
+unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am I not
+right, Aleck?"
+
+"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"
+
+"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be nothing here
+for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and I'm going to treat
+him better than that. By the way, I believe he is awake."
+
+My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How do you
+feel now, Jones?"
+
+"Am I here yet?" I muttered.
+
+"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"
+
+"Where are the others?"
+
+"What others?"
+
+"The five men."
+
+"What five men?"
+
+"The five men on the pallets."
+
+"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."
+
+"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes again."
+
+"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well. Don't
+bother your head about what happened last century or last year."
+
+He went to the door and called William.
+
+The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.
+
+The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's friends
+sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take the soup
+somewhat greedily.
+
+"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.
+
+"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know where you
+are."
+
+"I know what I've been told," said I.
+
+"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe it or you
+doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"
+
+"Yes," I said boldly.
+
+"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a gentleman's
+voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I thought, vaguely,
+I had heard before.
+
+"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory of your
+own; what is it, please?"
+
+He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that I had
+got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any interest.
+
+"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"
+
+"Be good enough to tell me another."
+
+He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.
+
+"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse by
+inventing a war with all its _et ceteras_. His supposition does me
+credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury. Although I
+have given him my word of honour that I am concealing nothing, he still
+hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in order to keep from him a
+truth that might be dangerous to his health. I shall be compelled to
+call him out when he gets well. Will you act for me, Aleck?"
+
+"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your friend
+will make the _amende_ when he knows the injustice of his suspicions."
+
+"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the war?"
+asked the doctor.
+
+"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the Captain.
+The other man shook his head.
+
+"Then tell Jones the conditions here."
+
+"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say, although it
+is accepting impossibilities."
+
+"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you object to
+my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and so long?"
+
+"Not that I know of," said I.
+
+"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere creatures of
+your fancy?"
+
+The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see his
+features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head was below
+him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young man. His face
+was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.
+
+"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
+wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
+experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
+have had."
+
+Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight tinge of
+irony in this excessively polite speech.
+
+"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any other
+dream."
+
+"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious of is not
+a dream?"
+
+"That contradicts itself," said I.
+
+"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men that you
+are not dreaming?"
+
+"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.
+
+"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me your
+notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent throughout, or
+should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own unrealness?"
+
+"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my own
+existence."
+
+"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore you
+exist. Are you not sure that you think?"
+
+"I think, or I dream that I think."
+
+"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But suppose you
+dream on; what will be the result?"
+
+"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.
+
+"May I ask where you will awake?"
+
+"In Aiken."
+
+"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a year
+ago."
+
+Naturally the remark was of interest to me.
+
+"When was it?" I asked.
+
+"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was recruiting
+for the reorganized First."
+
+"August of what year?" I asked.
+
+"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself. I am
+going through deep waters, I know nothing."
+
+"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you through." Then
+he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He has men in his
+company from several of the districts; possibly some of them would know
+you, and you might know them."
+
+I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's suggestion was
+not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What, to me, was this
+captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had no interest in this
+war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes did not seem to set
+strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those men could get along
+without my help. Why could I not find a different occupation? Anything
+would be better than getting killed in a cause I did not understand.
+Then, too, I was threatened with the wretched condition of an object of
+common curiosity. If I was going to be gazed at by this officer and his
+men,--if I was to be regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie
+with theirs.
+
+"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go out of
+the tent for a moment?"
+
+"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."
+
+"Why should I go out?" I asked.
+
+"Only to look about you," he replied.
+
+The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself so
+strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.
+
+I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few fires on
+the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the whole world was
+shining with fires; long lines of them to the right and the left.
+
+We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.
+
+Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you. Command
+me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me too bold in
+advising you to make no hasty decision which you might regret
+afterward; good-by."
+
+"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."
+
+The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for a while,
+over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making a report. When
+this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This officer also is a
+Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general of Gregg's brigade,
+and is a brother of Captain William Haskell."
+
+The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but I was
+in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to help you if
+we can."
+
+"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it the
+more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."
+
+"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially to Dr.
+Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in Company H
+himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our attention to
+your case in order that we might try to help you, and we should be
+glad to help."
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any day or
+any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital, because you are
+almost well. Something must be done with you. What would you have
+us do?"
+
+"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to have any
+plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit myself to something
+I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I enlist as a soldier. I
+feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as a soldier in any way.
+Possibly I should think differently if I knew anything about the war and
+its causes."
+
+"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I think,
+Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the war were
+explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to agree to your
+wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him light; I know he
+must be full of curiosity."
+
+"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is going on.
+Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do, though, in
+the end."
+
+"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful; at any
+rate, it can do no harm."
+
+"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that you are
+already a soldier," said the doctor.
+
+"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.
+
+"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we propose is
+to give you a home until you find where you belong; and the place we
+propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know of. Company H is a
+fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I may say that they are
+picked men; the most of them are gentlemen. Let me mention some good old
+Carolina names--you will remember them, I think. Did you never hear the
+name of Barnwell?"
+
+"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I believe
+this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."
+
+"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do you
+know of the Rhetts?"
+
+"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."
+
+"Grimké Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there are the Seabrooks
+and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the Bellots[6], and Stewart, and Bee,
+and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent good old families. You
+would speedily feel at home."
+
+[6] The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in
+Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be pronounced
+_Bellotte_. [ED.]
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know. I am a
+soldier in a cause that I do not understand."
+
+"And you have done many other things that you could not now understand
+if you were told of them," said the doctor.
+
+"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been wounded in
+the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"
+
+"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.
+
+"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm done. Tell
+him how he was hurt, Aleck."
+
+"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the adjutant.
+
+"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I, with
+nervous curiosity.
+
+"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the doctor.
+
+"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the enemy's
+cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit that you are
+a soldier!"
+
+To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the two
+men.
+
+"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks; you are
+under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may come, and does
+come; you are wounded; you are brought to your hospital for treatment.
+And yet you doubt that you are a soldier! You must be merely dreaming
+that you doubt!"
+
+While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was getting
+angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones, good-by," he
+said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't let it fall into
+obstinacy."
+
+The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought," said he.
+
+"Yes, I am. I was surprised."
+
+"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts; they lie
+there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all. I suppose
+they think that they are dreaming."
+
+At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it was that
+my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then, too, it was
+pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.
+
+"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three days will
+set you up."
+
+"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies, and war,
+and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"
+
+"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are now
+convinced that there is a war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it ought to
+be enough for you to know that your country is in danger. Are you
+a patriot?"
+
+"I trust so."
+
+"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have talked long
+enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a night-cap."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my
+progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my
+curiosity.
+
+"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot," said he.
+
+"I trust I am," said I.
+
+"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are insulted. Our
+men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and hopes to conquer. Can
+you hesitate?"
+
+"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But how can
+you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits of the cause
+for which I am told to fight?"
+
+"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government is
+concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a
+Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep from
+serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I will not
+suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to answer any
+question you may ask about the causes of the war. You ought to have your
+mind satisfied, if it be possible."
+
+"What are they fighting about?"
+
+"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into
+existence?"
+
+"Yes, I think so," said I.
+
+"Tell me."
+
+"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their independence
+in war," said I.
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates framed a
+constitution."
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."
+
+"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of the
+constitutional convention?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.
+
+"Then do you think the States created the general government? Think a
+little before you answer."
+
+"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."
+
+"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the Federal
+government, or did the people of the whole United States, acting as a
+body-politic, create it?"
+
+"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.
+
+"In what respect?"
+
+"It makes the United States exist before the United States came into
+existence," said I.
+
+"Then what would your answer be?"
+
+"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent delegates. The
+delegates, representing the respective States, framed the constitution.
+The people, if I mistake not, ratified the constitution, each State
+voting separately. Therefore I think that the United States government
+is a creature of the States and not of the people as a body-politic; for
+there could have been no such body-politic."
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you ought never
+to have entered military service."
+
+"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for a time
+to enter into the agreement."
+
+"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States have
+compelled them to come in?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot say as to that," said I.
+
+"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce them?"
+
+"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot very well
+see what ought to have been done."
+
+"The two States would have had some rights?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What rights would the United States have had over the two States?"
+
+"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but the
+people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not think
+that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new republic by
+refusing to enter it. But there may have been something peculiar in
+Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should say that the
+question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode Island's
+objections should have been considered and removed. A forced agreement
+would be no agreement."
+
+"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all their
+rights?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"What rights did they retain?"
+
+"They retained everything they did not surrender."
+
+"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces? Did
+they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for the
+general good of all?"
+
+"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word 'partnership'
+is the correct term."
+
+"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A confederacy?"
+
+"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The title
+of the republic means a union."
+
+"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"
+
+"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word 'union'
+seems to me to imply greater permanence."
+
+"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"
+
+"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all
+time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were
+differences, even among the framers of the constitution."
+
+"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should believe that
+their interests were being destroyed and that injustice was being done."
+
+"The several branches of government should prevent that," said I.
+
+"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government were
+united in perpetrating this injustice."
+
+"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.
+
+"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in Congress had
+been elected by their opponents; that the President and the judges were
+all against them."
+
+"The will of the majority should rule," said I.
+
+"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself must be
+given up or defended?"
+
+"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.
+
+"Ought they to endure tamely?"
+
+"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it seems
+that the constitution should have provided some remedy."
+
+"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours, should
+conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except in
+withdrawing from the partnership, or union."
+
+"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps a
+dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge of
+such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank concerning
+politics."
+
+"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that step, in
+the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace; would her
+citizens be bound by her action?"
+
+"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being the case,
+every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long as he remains
+a citizen."
+
+"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable withdrawal
+is met by United States armies trying to force her back into the Union.
+Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a citizen of South
+Carolina?"
+
+"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State, he must
+obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of it."
+
+"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are invading his
+State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"
+
+"I think no man would do that."
+
+"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of his
+State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his help, and
+influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that South Carolina
+should allow any of her citizens to leave her in this crisis?"
+
+"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms would thus
+be allowed to go."
+
+"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"
+
+"In a certain sense--yes."
+
+"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"
+
+"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to reply, I
+should say no."
+
+"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military service,
+is it not your duty to serve?"
+
+"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me serve?"
+
+"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to serve his
+country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that a man should
+obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."
+
+"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."
+
+"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the country?"
+
+"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no exception to
+rules?"
+
+"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not exist
+in time of war. The Confederate States have called into military service
+all males between eighteen and forty-five. You could not leave the
+country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an impersonal sense--even
+if you should wish to leave it. Every man is held subject to military
+service; as you have already said, the State would commit suicide if she
+renounced the population from which she gets her soldiers. But, in any
+case, what would you do if you were not forced into service?"
+
+"I am helpless," I said gloomily.
+
+"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not helpless.
+What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can attach, you to
+any company that you may choose, with the condition that as soon as your
+friends are found you are to be handed over to them--I mean, of course,
+handed over to your original company. It seems to me that such a course
+is not merely the best thing to do, but the only thing to do."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under very heavy
+obligations. You have done much yourself, and your friends show me
+kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask you to act for me. I
+know the delicacy of your offer. Another man might have refused to
+discuss or explain; he had the power to simply order me back into
+the ranks."
+
+"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have been
+exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's duty to
+his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army regulations
+applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept here without
+authority, except the general authority which empowers the surgeon to
+help the wounded. But I have no control over you whatever. If you
+choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this hospital. I cannot
+make a report of your case on any form furnished me. It was this
+difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the brigade adjutant to visit
+you; while the matter is irregular, it is, however, known at brigade
+headquarters, so that it is in as good a shape as we know how to put it.
+I cannot order you back into the ranks; you would not know what to do
+with yourself; what I suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter
+of being supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that
+you are still in the service and are obeying authority."
+
+"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the possibility of
+being charged with desertion."
+
+"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must get
+authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect you
+fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and the
+adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without leave. I must
+quit you for a while."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my part, to
+find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the proposition
+to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard to my original
+company, and had at last confessed to myself that it was due to
+exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my company? should I
+recognize them? No; they would know me, but I should not know them. This
+thought had been strong in holding me back from yielding to the doctor's
+views; I had an almost morbid dread of being considered a curiosity. So,
+I did not want to go back to my company; and as for going into Captain
+Haskell's company, I considered that project but a temporary
+expedient--my people would soon be found and I should be forced back
+where I belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to
+keep out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go
+away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only keep
+me from being advertised and gazed upon.
+
+Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought before me
+the probability of my being already reported absent without leave, and
+the consequent possibility of being charged with desertion, I decided at
+once that I should go with Captain Haskell. Whatever I might once have
+been, and whatever I might yet become, I was not and never should be
+a deserter.
+
+When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong enough for
+duty.
+
+"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong enough to
+march in case the army should move. I do not intend, however, to let you
+go at once, unless there should be a movement; in that case I could not
+well keep you any longer."
+
+I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish to
+delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to enroll
+me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick list for a few
+days, in order that I might accustom myself gradually to new conditions.
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+COMPANY H
+
+                              "In strange eyes
+     Have made me not a stranger; to the mind
+     Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;
+     Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find
+     A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.
+
+In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation recounted
+above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short walk.
+
+From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see northward and
+toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents and cannon, and rows
+of stacked muskets and all the appliances of war. The sight was new and
+strange. I had never before seen at one time more than a battalion of
+soldiers; now here was an army into which I had been suddenly thrust as
+a part of it, without experience of any sort and without knowledge of
+anybody in it except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had
+never heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army
+had been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true that
+I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my misfortune had
+deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had decided my duty as to
+that cause; yet it now appealed to me so little, that I was conscious of
+struggling to rise above indifference. I reproached myself for lack of
+patriotism. I had read the morning's _Dispatch_ and had been shocked at
+the relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the
+part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against the
+wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me that my
+passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this peculiarity seemed so
+unimportant in comparison with the greater one which marked me, that it
+gave me no concern.
+
+In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum and the
+fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming and going. A
+line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched by, going somewhere.
+They had no uniform; I supposed they were recruits. A group of mounted
+men attracted me; I had little doubt that here was some general with his
+staff. Flags were everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked
+by stars.
+
+A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I started
+to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"
+
+He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.
+
+When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade is?"
+
+"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the hospital
+tents, I suppose."
+
+"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about here," said
+he.
+
+"I will go with you to the tent," said I.
+
+"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some days on
+duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in charge of the
+hospital?"
+
+"Dr. Frost," said I.
+
+"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our
+orderly-sergeant."
+
+By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men, and I
+looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I wanted to ask
+him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest he should
+afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be curious.
+However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was, would hardly
+become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked saying that I
+understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant in some company
+or other.
+
+"Yes; Company H," said he.
+
+"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."
+
+"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said he.
+
+"You like your company?"
+
+"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own company;
+I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better now."
+
+"You couldn't be under better care," said he.
+
+When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.
+
+"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I reckon, and
+I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment do you
+belong to?"
+
+The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know; to my
+intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he cried,
+"There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook hands. I
+besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he understood,
+and nodded.
+
+The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the
+regiment?"
+
+"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and Bellot soon
+went off.
+
+"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you and he
+are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you here to-day,
+he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but we'll hope for
+the best."
+
+"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees me
+again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very ragged,
+and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking of my
+strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become indebted to you
+for something besides your professional skill, Doctor."
+
+"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want, if I
+can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he will not
+come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your first service as
+light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if you have forgotten
+your drill!"
+
+"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did know
+anything about it."
+
+"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you may have
+lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In three days
+under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every manoeuvre. Just
+get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and you'll do eight of 'em
+without reflection."
+
+"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said I.
+
+"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I did not budge, but stood stiff.
+
+"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do _so_," said he.
+
+"_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I imitated the surgeon.
+
+"FRONT!--that's right--_Left_--FACE! That's good--FRONT!--all right; now
+again--_Right_--FACE!--FRONT!--_Left_--FACE!--FRONT!--_About_--put your
+right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind; it will all
+come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H many a day."
+
+I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection for me,
+though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of proprietorship
+acquired through discovery, so to speak.
+
+After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to Company H.
+W'ell drive over in an ambulance."
+
+From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the crest
+of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds were aglow
+with light. "McClellan's army," said he.
+
+"Whose army?" I asked.
+
+"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."
+
+"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.
+
+"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.
+
+"And their camp-fires make all that light?"
+
+"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."
+
+Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as the men
+had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be seen a
+blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and, underneath, a bed
+of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours abounded. The Captain
+himself had no tent; we found him sitting with his back to a tree near
+which was his little fly stretched over his sleeping-place. Several
+officers were around him. He shook the doctor's hand, but said nothing
+to me. The officers left us.
+
+"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that you may
+tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to his first
+service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."
+
+"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.
+
+"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got the cart
+before the horse."
+
+"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones Berwick."
+
+"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it is
+written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick instead of
+Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."
+
+"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of Private
+Berwick," said I.
+
+"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name reversed, that
+is a small matter which will straighten itself out when you recover your
+memory. What I was going to say is, that you may be received into my
+company as a recruit, as it were, but to be returned to your original
+company whenever we learn what company that is. We will continue,
+through brigade headquarters, to try to find out what regiment you are
+from--and under both of your names. While you are with me I shall
+cheerfully do for you all that I can to favour your condition. You will
+be expected, however, to do a man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."
+
+The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used toward me in
+the tent; his voice was stern and his manner frigid.
+
+"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued, "and will
+keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your case; for I can
+well understand, although you have said nothing about it, sir, that you
+do not wish confidences."
+
+His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."
+
+"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his official
+voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an ordinary recruit;
+we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I shall at once make a
+requisition for your arms and accoutrements, your knapsack, uniform, and
+everything else necessary for you. You may remain in the hospital until
+your equipment is ready for you. Report to me day after to-morrow at
+noon, and I will receive you into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it
+is time for prayers."
+
+The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book in his
+hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the doctor told
+me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch. Some of the men
+heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed heads.
+
+The Captain began to read:--
+
+"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just
+works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the world
+cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy commandments, and
+also that by Thee, we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may
+pass our time in rest and quietness, through the merits of Jesus Christ
+our Saviour.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have been
+preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all perils and
+dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our Saviour,
+Jesus Christ.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the Universe,
+who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon earth, most
+heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and bless Thy servant
+the President of the Confederate States, and all others in authority;
+and so replenish them with the grace of Thy Holy Spirit that they may
+always incline to Thy will, and walk in Thy way. Endue them plenteously
+with heavenly gifts, grant them in health, and prosperity long to live;
+and finally, after this life, to attain everlasting joy and felicity,
+through Jesus Christ our Lord.
+
+"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly beseech Thee
+for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst be pleased to
+make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to all nations. More
+especially we pray for Thy holy church universal, that it may be so
+guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all who profess and call
+themselves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the
+faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of
+life. Finally, we commend to Thy fatherly goodness all who are in any
+ways afflicted or distressed in mind, body, or estate, that it may
+please Thee to comfort and relieve them, according to their several
+necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy
+issue out of all their afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's
+sake. Amen."
+
+While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness outside
+of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.
+
+Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he was
+good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead of
+another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I should be
+without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have sent me to the
+general hospital, whence I should have been remanded to duty; and
+failing to know my regiment, I should have been apprehended as a
+deserter. At the best, even if other people had recognized the nature of
+my trouble, I should have been subjected then and always to the vulgar
+curiosity which I so greatly dreaded. Here in Company H nobody would
+know me except as an ordinary recruit.
+
+The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and said,
+"Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."
+
+"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr. Frost
+sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own company at
+any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if you do not find
+it. You are not under my orders until you come to me."
+
+As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me seriously,
+"You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones. How did
+you get my name reversed?"
+
+"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B. Jones,'"
+he said.
+
+"Will you let me see the diary?"
+
+"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to have
+done so before."
+
+The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small blank book
+for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862. Only a very few
+dates in this book are filled with writing. On the fly-leaf is "B.
+Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name having been all torn
+away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends with May 27th. The writing
+has been done with a pencil. I copy below all that the book contains:--
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at night."
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+
+"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain at
+night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.
+
+"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had
+been fighting."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each page in the book is divided into three sections.
+
+After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said to the
+surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe that I ever
+wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain that I could not
+have written B. Jones as my name."
+
+The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take this
+paper and write at my dictation."
+
+He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a battle
+ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been fighting."
+
+"Now let us compare them," said he.
+
+The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the paper.
+
+"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do know."
+
+"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book, what would
+you have said?"
+
+"That the book was never mine, of course."
+
+"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor. "Many cases
+have been known of patients whose handwriting had changed completely.
+The truth is, that I did not expect to see you write as you did
+just now."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.
+
+"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name is
+Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at all--any part
+of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do this and do that;
+there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the mind. I'd rather risk
+that signature which you made before you were hurt."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be trusted. It
+is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower part of the leaf
+has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why, of course, to destroy
+the name of the regiment to which the owner belonged! B. Jones is common
+enough; Jones Berwick is not so common. I found it, or else it got into
+my pocket by mistake. No wonder that a man named Jones is not
+called for."
+
+"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is identical?
+Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we cannot account for
+the rest unless you wrote it. It is very romantic, and all that, to say
+that somebody imitated your handwriting in the body of the book, but it
+is very far-fetched. Find some other theory."
+
+"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third you
+began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where you had
+been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had kept one, at
+home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days ago."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"By the by, let me see that book a moment."
+
+I handed it to him.
+
+"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I wanted to
+see who printed it."
+
+"What would that have shown?"
+
+"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or perhaps
+Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."
+
+"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make inquiries for
+the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is missing. Now do you
+go to bed and go to sleep."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.
+
+The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face I saw in
+the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at least ten years
+older. Needless to describe it, if I could.
+
+After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful duty,--I made
+a different appearance, and felt better, not only on account of the
+physical change, but also, I suppose, because my mind was now settled
+upon myself as a volunteer soldier.
+
+Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see me;
+Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a man who
+would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to give them no
+hint of the truth. He replied that it would be difficult to keep them in
+the dark, for they wouldn't see why a man, already wearing uniform,
+should offer himself as a member of Company H.
+
+"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said he.
+
+To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If I had
+any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other clothing."
+
+"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots of it."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me; besides,
+the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every volunteer. Your
+bounty will purchase clothing, if you are determined to squander your
+estate. Captain Haskell would be able to secure you what you want; your
+bounty is good for it."
+
+"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.
+
+"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was thinking, for
+the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the tables on me. Yes;
+you have already received the bounty; maybe you haven't yet spent it,
+though. I'll look up the contents of your pockets; I hope nothing's
+been lost."
+
+He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as well as
+a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in Confederate
+notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South Carolina, and
+more than four dollars in silver.
+
+"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do you want
+to do with all that?"
+
+"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.
+
+"Why old?"
+
+"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."
+
+"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we march, it
+will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer stuff; I know what
+to do. How you held on to that silver so long is a mystery."
+
+The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the Bellots
+came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The elder Bellot had
+already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did not seem to recognize
+me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man, fully six feet, with a slight
+stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes or a better face; he, too, wore a
+full beard. His name was Louis, yet his brother called him Joe. I took a
+liking to both Dave and Joe.
+
+The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the regiment
+was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a State regiment
+before the Confederate States had existed--that is to say, it had been
+organized by South Carolina alone, before any other State had seceded;
+it had seen service on the islands near Charleston.
+
+A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave Bellot,
+especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of which I was
+utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.
+
+"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."
+
+"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but I am
+not familiar with the city."
+
+"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."
+
+Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie, and I
+nodded assent.
+
+"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns of
+Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the Cadets
+had fired on the _Star of the West_; we thought Sumter would sink us,
+but she didn't say a word."
+
+I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that these men
+had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me. Momentarily I expected
+either of them to blurt out, "Where are you from?" and I had no answer
+ready. Afterward I learned that I was already known as an Aiken man, in
+default of better,--the doctor having considerately relieved me from
+anticipated danger.
+
+"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the Confederate
+service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time expired in June.
+It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and discharged, and at once
+reorganized under the same field-officers."
+
+I did not very well know what a field-officer is.
+
+"Who is the colonel?" I asked.
+
+"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called him once
+in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters, and it was
+the day for general inspection of the camp. We had scoured our tin
+plates and had made up our bunks and washed up generally, and every man
+was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I had my back to the door, and
+I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder when Old Headquarters will be
+here.' You never were so scared in your life as I was when I heard a
+loud voice at the door say, 'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the
+colonel walked in."
+
+I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is Suffolk?"
+
+"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was in the
+Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post, though. He
+commands our brigade now."
+
+"Where did you go from Suffolk?"
+
+"To Goldsborough."
+
+"Where is that?" I asked.
+
+"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island it was
+thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and Wilmington
+railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were brigaded with some
+tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson and the lot of us were
+sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put under Gregg again until we
+reached Richmond."
+
+"How many regiments are in the brigade?"
+
+"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's Rifles."
+
+"All from South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.
+
+"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very near
+getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."
+
+"Where is Hanover?" I asked.
+
+"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure to get
+into that fight, but we were too late for it."
+
+The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They
+especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared
+that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some others
+which they could name.
+
+Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I flattered myself
+with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit influenced by some
+acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.
+
+Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his brother, and
+then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know anybody in
+the company?"
+
+"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply relying on
+Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely on his judgment
+more than on my own."
+
+"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you can do
+better."
+
+I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to accept his
+offer.
+
+"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was walking
+a short way with the brothers as they returned to their camp. "No,"
+said I.
+
+"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of warfare."
+
+"What are they doing?" I asked.
+
+"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into regiments
+of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans, has several
+regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of one of our
+brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in that State are
+enticing the negroes away from their owners and putting arms into
+their hands."
+
+"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from saying more.
+The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at the time that New
+Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his saying that Butler had
+regiments of negroes seemed queer.
+
+"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's insurrection,"
+said Bellot.
+
+A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot
+continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading of
+Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!
+
+"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of secession,
+and they have split Virginia into two States. In my opinion, they are
+fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure selfishness: they know
+that they live on the trade of the South, and that they cannot make as
+much money if they let us go to ourselves."
+
+"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of course
+there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good mistakenly,
+but the mass of the people are blindly following the counsels of those
+who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed men, the manufacturers,
+and the great merchants of the North thought for one moment that they
+would lose some of their dollars by the war, the war would end. What
+care they for us? They care only for themselves. They plunge the whole
+country into mourning simply in order to keep control of the trade of
+the South."
+
+Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West Virginia by
+the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent, mentally vowing that
+I should at once read the history of events since 1859. So I sought Dr.
+Frost, and begged him to help me get books or papers which would give me
+the information I needed; for otherwise, I told him, I should be unable
+to talk with any consistency or method.
+
+"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in print that
+would give you just what you want. We might get files of newspapers--but
+that would be too voluminous reading and too redundant. You ought to
+have something concise--some outline; and where to get it I can't tell
+you." Then, as the thought struck him, he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll
+make it! You write while I dictate."
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+A LESSON IN HISTORY
+
+     "So that, from point to point, now have you heard
+     The fundamental reasons of this war;
+     Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
+     And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking that I
+would require many notes.
+
+"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October fifty-nine?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What date?"
+
+"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's seizure of
+Harper's Ferry."
+
+"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown episode?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.
+
+In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic
+Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building of
+which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and interrupted him
+to tell him so."
+
+"Maybe your home is in Charleston."
+
+"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I don't
+remember my home."
+
+He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important actions
+and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought in them in
+'61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.
+
+"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you something
+about your own command."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in
+progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.
+
+"Well."
+
+"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded at the
+battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You were in
+that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson we call him,
+to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is president of the Tredegar
+Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you were facing McDowell. Now, look
+here at the map. McClellan stretched his right wing as far as
+Mechanicsville--here, almost north of Richmond; and you were between
+McClellan and McDowell. So Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember
+the hot march?"
+
+"Not at all; I don't think I was there."
+
+"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover your
+memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in an
+unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies itself
+against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of weakness that
+things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a dream proves to be
+the beginning. However, some men have such great strength of will that
+they can do almost anything. If ever you get the smallest clew, you
+ought then and there to determine that you will never let it go. Your
+friends may find you any day, but it is strange they have not yet done
+it They surely must be classing you among the killed."
+
+[Illustration: A Lesson In History] [Map of Chesapeake Bay and
+Environs]
+
+"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the past?
+Would my memory return if I should find them?"
+
+"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first find
+one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and then they
+can show you how everything else is to be associated with that. Without
+their help you would have a hard time in collecting things--putting them
+together; they would be separate and distinct in your mind; if you
+remember but one isolated circumstance, it would be next to impossible
+to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and finish; we are nearly at the end,
+or at the beginning, for you. Where was I?
+
+"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"
+
+"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the
+twenty-fourth."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's brigade. While
+you were retreating, and when you were very near Hanover, McClellan
+threw a column on Branch, and used him very severely. You were not in
+the fight exactly, but were in hearing of it, and saw some of Branch's
+men after the fight. That is how we know what brigade you belong to,
+although it will not claim you. You know that you are from South
+Carolina, and your buttons prove it; and your diary shows that you were
+near Branch's brigade while it was in the fight; and the only South
+Carolina brigade in the whole of Lee's army that had any connection with
+Branch, is Gregg's. Do you see?"
+
+"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"
+
+"May 27th; your diary tells you that."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The division you
+are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light division. Branch's brigade
+is in it."
+
+"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the army
+down to the company."
+
+"Go ahead."
+
+"Lee's army--"
+
+"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."
+
+"What is General Lee's full name?"
+
+"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse Harry Lee
+of Revolution times."
+
+"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's brigade--what
+is General Gregg's name?"
+
+"Maxcy."
+
+"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"
+
+"How did you know that?"
+
+"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"
+
+"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."
+
+"Company H, Captain Haskell--"
+
+"William Thompson Haskell."
+
+"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."
+
+"Now read what you have written," he said.
+
+I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made. My
+interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily have
+called over in chronological order the principal events he had
+just narrated.
+
+"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the details
+from what you can remember of what I said?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."
+
+He asked some questions, and I replied to them.
+
+My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a
+phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he said.
+
+His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.
+
+"What has become of the _Merrimac?_" I asked him.
+
+"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had to
+follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some halfway down
+below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by Lincoln against all the
+ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak on the water."
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+
+     "And so your follies fight against yourself.
+      Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--
+      And fight and die, is death destroying death;
+      Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."
+                                          --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr. Frost had
+offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone, and, as my
+strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all my possessions
+in my pockets.
+
+The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll of
+Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in its
+alphabetical position.
+
+A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having been
+made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots. Besides the
+brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I formed gradually
+some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant Josey, Corporal
+Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box, in this alphabetical
+succession of names my own name being no real exception, although
+Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name written in the diary.
+
+And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's drill in the
+manual and in everything. The company drilled four hours a day, and the
+regiment had one hour's battalion drill, besides dress-parade; there was
+roll-call in the company morning and night.
+
+Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John Wilson, who
+put me singly through the exercises without arms for about four hours
+on my first day's duty, which was the third day of my enlistment, or
+perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant seemed greatly pleased
+with my progress, and told me that he should at once promote me to be
+the right guide of his awkward squad.
+
+On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three other
+recruits who had been members of the company for a week or more. That
+night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have received me into his
+good graces, told me that Wilson had said that that new man Jones beat
+everything that he had seen before; that learning to drill was to Jones
+"as easy as fallin' off a log." I remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.
+
+The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the
+afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour I was
+exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved very
+unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost swore at me.
+He placed my gun at the _carry_, and called repeated attention to the
+exact description of the position, contained in the language of Hardee:
+"The piece in the right hand, the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in
+the hollow of the shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging
+nearly at its full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger
+embracing the guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping
+the swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little
+finger." I simply could not execute the _shoulder_, or _carry_, with any
+precision, although the positions of _support, right-shoulder-shift,
+present,_ and all the rest, gave me no trouble after they were reached;
+reaching them, from the _shoulder_ was the great trouble.
+
+Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the Captain.
+
+Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant Wilson
+gives a bad report of you."
+
+"I do the best I can, Captain."
+
+"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some peculiar
+point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives you great
+praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says you will not
+learn the manual."
+
+"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something wrong
+about it."
+
+"You find the manual difficult?"
+
+"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me nervous."
+
+"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"
+
+"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."
+
+"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I have a
+clew to the situation."
+
+Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made me take
+position. He also took position, with a rifle at his side.
+
+"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be the
+_shoulder_ natural to you."
+
+His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm of his
+left hand under the butt.
+
+"Now," said he, "this is the _shoulder_ of the heavy infantry manual. I
+think you were drilled once in a company which had this _shoulder_. It
+may not have been in your recent regiment that you were so drilled, for
+this _shoulder_ obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before
+the war. Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions
+now--_Support_--ARMS!"
+
+The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the stock;
+his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting on the
+forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.
+
+I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.
+
+"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other
+positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the _shoulder_, or
+_carry_, as we sometimes call it, that has been changed. You will like
+the new drill."
+
+He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had difficulty,
+yet I had some success.
+
+"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.
+
+I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I had
+been confused by the light infantry _carry_, never having seen drill
+except from the heavy infantry _shoulder_. Wilson kept me at work for
+almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with my progress. Under his
+training I was soon able to drill with the company.
+
+Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see Richmond.
+He had got permission to go into town on the next day. The Captain
+readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four hours, and Bellot
+and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We saw the State House,
+and the Confederate Congress in session, and wandered down to the river
+and took a long look at the Libby Prison.
+
+The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's left, but
+now the regiment took position in the front, the lines having been
+extended still farther to the left. A battery at our right--some
+distance away--would throw a few shells over at the Yankees, and their
+guns would reply; beyond this almost daily artillery practice, nothing
+unusual occurred.
+
+One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to get my
+arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front, Corporal
+Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for his sword. He
+led us through our pickets and straight on toward the river. The slope
+of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were clumps of pine bushes
+which hid us from any casual view from either flank; and as for the
+river swamp in our front, unless a man had been on its hither edge, we
+were perfectly screened. I observed that, as we approached the swamp,
+the Captain advanced more stealthily, keeping in the thickest and
+tallest of the bushes. Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending
+over and slipping along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader.
+The river bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a
+dense forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
+which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
+Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the purpose
+of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it was not
+merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.
+
+We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the Captain
+signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and stood behind a
+tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body this way and that;
+then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth here was less thick, the
+trees larger. I could see nothing, in any direction, except trees and
+muddy water. The Captain went on again for a few paces, and stopped with
+a jerk. After a little he beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded
+slowly on. Before we reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get
+behind trees.
+
+From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in another.
+There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the Captain was
+still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see that his whole
+attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at my right, was silent
+and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather than saw, that there was
+something in front of us, and I kept my eyes intent upon a narrow aisle
+just beyond me. All at once a man in dark-blue dress passed across the
+opening; I knew instantly that he was a Yankee, although I had never
+seen one in my life, and instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but
+he was gone. Now, looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other
+blue men behind trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were
+about sixty yards from us; I supposed they were part of their
+picket-line. I had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and
+consulted the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.
+
+Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side of the
+Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool stretching in their
+front, and were not very watchful. We remained stiff in our places for
+four or five minutes; then the Captain moved slowly backward and gave us
+a sign to follow.
+
+This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it made me
+feel that the Captain was favourable to me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three days'
+rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little. Everybody
+said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had occasion to use
+the word, had thought of it as rãtions. I think I called it rãtions once
+or twice before I got straight. I remembered Dr. Frost's advice to hold
+fast any slightest clew, and felt that possibly this word might, in the
+future, prove a beginning.
+
+The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle. For a
+day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the part of
+Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody seemed to know
+where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave occasion for the talk.
+From what I could hear, it seemed to be thought generally that Jackson
+was marching on Washington, but some of the most serious of the men
+believed exactly the contrary; they believed that Jackson was very near
+to Lee's army.
+
+The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready for the
+march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe Bellot was
+lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that he, too, was
+awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and sometimes confused,
+thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not that I should soon see
+actual war, and I was far from certain that I could stand it. I had
+never fired a shot at a man; no man had ever fired at me. I fully
+appreciated the fact of the difference between other men and me;
+perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I had heard and had read that most
+men in battle are able from motives of pride to do their duty; but I was
+certainly not like most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had
+homes to fight for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at
+all; but I was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction
+called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown
+somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as theirs; if
+I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight for the homes of
+my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home, vague, it is true, but as
+real as theirs, and Southern homes were in danger from the invaders. I
+_must_ fight for Southern homes--for _my_ home; but could I stand up
+with my comrades in the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I
+not one of a few? perhaps unique even?
+
+Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but retain my
+presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature by the
+resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what is courage
+if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If my mind fail, I
+shall have no courage: this is to think in a circle. I felt that I
+should prefer death to cowardice--the thought gave me momentary comfort.
+
+But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial comes? A
+coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an outcast from men.
+
+And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I doubted it
+and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt comforted me. To be
+killed was no worse than to kill.
+
+Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that sustained
+_him_ at this moment? If not now, at least shortly, he would give orders
+which must result in the death of thousands; it was enough to craze a
+general. How could he, reputed so good, give such orders? Could any
+success atone for so much disaster? What could be in the mind of General
+Lee to make him consent to such sacrifice? It must be that he feels
+forced; he cannot do it willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up
+the contest--to yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two
+nations into despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many
+stricken homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that
+sustains General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and
+simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then President
+Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the burden? No. What
+then? The country.
+
+And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People? What is
+land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know. But, supposing
+that I have people and land--what is the country for which we fight?
+Will the enemy take our people, and take our land, if we do not beat
+them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to subjection. I shall
+become a dependant upon them. I shall be constrained in my liberties;
+part of my labour will go to them against my will. My property, if I
+have any, will be taken from me in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not
+wholly, at least in a measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not
+be free.
+
+But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free? Yes, I
+shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to got aid
+from the country, I shall be part of the country and can enjoy my will,
+because I will to be part of my country and to help build up her
+greatness and sustain and improve her institutions.
+
+Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an
+institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is it,
+then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a growth,
+a development--a development of what? Is it material? No, it is moral;
+it is _soul_--then I thought I could see what is meant by the country
+and by her institutions. The country is the spirit of the nation--and it
+is deathless. It is not doomed to subjection; take the land--enslave the
+people--and yet will that spirit live and act and have a body. Let our
+enemies prevail over our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is
+good in our institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true
+idea is imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.
+
+Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the false. The
+false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in order to
+spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be better or
+stronger by that?
+
+Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by good that
+evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us, must we not
+fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war. Must we submit?
+We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is repugnant to the spirit of
+the nation; death is better than submission. But killing, is it not
+crime? Is crime better than submission? No; submission is better than
+crime But is not submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement
+of the law of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime?
+To avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing? It
+seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is because the
+spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the world. The
+world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and demands life and
+freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not so unselfish; the
+spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism; the world-spirit
+raises high the principle of philanthropy universal. The country has not
+developed the world-idea, and will not, except feebly; but she will at
+last, and will be loyal to the spirit of the world. Then, unless I am
+sustained by a greater power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the
+South. I must kill and must be killed.
+
+But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into a less
+readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to me I know
+not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance incomprehensible and
+unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will not my conscience force
+me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse than death.
+
+I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose, and
+walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the morrow might
+be still more soundly sleeping.
+
+Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet. I
+approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."
+
+"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but cannot."
+
+"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by ourselves."
+
+His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct toward the
+men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning duties, yet he was
+very sympathetic in personal matters, and in private talk was more
+courteous and kind toward a private than toward an equal. I understood
+well enough that it was through sympathy that he had invited me
+to unburden.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I fear."
+
+"May I ask what it is that you fear?"
+
+"I fear that I am a coward."
+
+"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"
+
+"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."
+
+"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close place when
+you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were, if the truth
+has been told."
+
+"That was not I; I am now another man."
+
+"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."
+
+"Proving a coward," I replied.
+
+"You fear that you will fear?" said he.
+
+"That is exactly it."
+
+"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."
+
+"I fear that danger will make me fear."
+
+"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least anybody who
+has something more than the mere fearlessness of the brute that cannot
+realize danger."
+
+"Do you fear, too, Captain?"
+
+The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew that his
+silence was rebuke.
+
+"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak of
+myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not to be
+thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I like the
+thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are very distasteful
+to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing itself to pain; I fear
+pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear. I do not think the fear of
+death is unmanly, for it is human. Those who do not fear death do not
+love life. Please tell me if you love life."
+
+"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."
+
+"Do you fear death?"
+
+"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were indifferent to
+death I should have no fear of being afraid."
+
+"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in the
+swamp," said he.
+
+"I don't think I had great fear."
+
+"Yet you were in danger there."
+
+"Very little, I think, Captain."
+
+"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have ended
+your life."
+
+"I did not realize the situation, then."
+
+"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then," said he.
+
+"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"
+
+"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."
+
+"But you did not fear."
+
+"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a
+knowledge of danger?"
+
+"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that a man
+may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I am afraid
+that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in duty."
+
+"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail in
+duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case. An army
+consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be broken. It is
+those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause disorganization. The
+touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I think, sir; but for the man
+who will do his duty such dependence should not be taught. Good men,
+instructed to depend on comrades will be demoralized when comrades
+forsake them. Our method of battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should
+be more open. Many reasons might be urged for that change, but the one
+we are now considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend
+on weak men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not
+really a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so.
+Every man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless
+of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to fight,
+sir; there are other duties more suited to them."
+
+"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.
+
+"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to test
+you now?"
+
+"To test me?"
+
+"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage." His
+voice had become stern.
+
+I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I felt
+that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position into
+which my fears were working to thrust me.
+
+"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of this
+suspense."
+
+"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense
+concerning danger?"
+
+I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and replied, "Yes,
+Captain, danger is better than fear."
+
+"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I had the
+right to incur danger uselessly."
+
+"And how did you settle that?"
+
+"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."
+
+He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may depress
+you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a soldier as Company
+H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only yesterday, remarked that
+you were the best-drilled man in the company, and showed astonishment
+that a raw recruit, in less than two weeks, should gain such a standing.
+I thought it advisable to say to him that your education had included
+some military training, and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped
+his official manner. "It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly
+a veteran than any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have
+been wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed
+signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that you
+have already seen battle more than once."
+
+"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at all. I am a
+different man."
+
+"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I
+appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I think
+every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a friend, that you
+feel fear more sensitively because you live in the subjective; you feel
+thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are exclusive."
+
+"I am forced to be so, Captain."
+
+"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."
+
+"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on myself."
+
+"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it
+positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though peculiar; I
+fancy that you heighten them by your self-concentration. The world and
+objects in it divert other men, while your attention is upon your own
+feelings. Pardon me for saying that you think of little except yourself.
+This new old experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution
+to your soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men
+think of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be
+all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will be
+good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."
+
+"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other men and
+other things," I said.
+
+"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give you
+that test?"
+
+"Yes, sir; if you please."
+
+"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do not
+need it," said he.
+
+"How so, Captain?"
+
+"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed to test
+you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to it. Have you
+lost interest in it?"
+
+"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good time."
+
+"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from courage,
+but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at once reject my
+proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it; but, having begun,
+I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will assign you some special duty
+that will keep you out of battle--such as guarding the baggage, or other
+duty in the rear."
+
+I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.
+
+"Why do you hesitate?"
+
+"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.
+
+"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but did you
+not urge me on?"
+
+"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."
+
+"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept my
+offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not see that
+what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You are not
+intimidated at the prospect of battle."
+
+"I fear that I shall be," said I.
+
+"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your indignation
+seems no less natural to yourself than it does to me."
+
+"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my fears?"
+
+"Oblige me by explaining."
+
+"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the purpose
+of concealing my fear?"
+
+"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the possibility--the
+strong possibility--of death," said he, gravely.
+
+"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I shall do
+when it is near is not sure."
+
+"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice, assuming
+again the relation of an officer.
+
+"I do not mean it that way, Captain."
+
+"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least to
+cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch you."
+
+"I wish I could banish fear," said I.
+
+"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to make
+yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."
+
+"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will not weaken
+in the time of trial?"
+
+"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again will and
+will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you are ordered
+to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you not decided that
+you will march with us?"
+
+"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I expect
+to march."
+
+"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not know that
+you will march to the battlefield?"
+
+"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I should
+have no fear of myself."
+
+"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to run away
+when we get into battle?"
+
+"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be able to
+have any intention at all."
+
+"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"
+
+"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and fear
+the test."
+
+"You _can_ determine that you will act the man," said he. Then, kindly:
+"I have no fears that you will do otherwise, but"--and here his voice
+again became stern--"the determination will rid you of your present
+fears. Exert your will, and this nightmare will go."
+
+"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"
+
+"_You_ can. You can drive away your present fear of yourself, at the
+very least."
+
+"How can I do it, Captain?"
+
+"I shall give you one more test."
+
+"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that would
+confirm my fear."
+
+"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your present
+state of mind--"
+
+"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"
+
+"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But allow
+me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you are, or you
+will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect before I begin."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say three,
+you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"
+
+If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all my fears
+were gone.
+
+"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even hesitatingly.
+
+"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my duty."
+
+"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse me for
+employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I may make a
+suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, that you will
+encourage henceforth, the companionship of the men."
+
+"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."
+
+"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I am
+sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented itself to
+your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."
+
+"Good night, Captain," said I.
+
+But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his character
+as my commander.
+
+"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for all your
+physical strength to-morrow--and after."
+
+I was almost happy.
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+IN THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+     "If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
+     Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."
+                                         --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of itself;
+the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else we were
+creatures dominated by our surroundings.
+
+I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an unknown
+sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I touched a larger
+world, it was only through the medium of the company in its relations to
+that world. I had formed some attachments,--ties which have lasted
+through life thus far, and will always last,--but these attachments were
+immediate only, and, so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not
+directly could I see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside
+the narrow bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for
+that world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I
+called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to every
+other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal world
+rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although the ideal
+after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me must be lacking in
+the varying quality of light, and the delicate degrees of sweetness and
+truth which home and friends and all the material good of earth were
+said to assume for charming their possessors. The day brought me into
+contact with men; the night left me alone with myself. In my presence
+men spoke of homes far away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and
+children. I could see how deep was the interest which moved them to
+speak, and, in a measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was
+mystery rather than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could
+fill these pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps,
+for my memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should
+say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard with
+the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier. Absorbed in
+reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world of which I knew
+so little, it is not to be doubted that I constructed ideals far beyond
+the humdrum reality of home life, impracticable ideals that tended only
+to separate me more from other men. Their world was not my world; this I
+knew full well, and I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude
+treatment marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a
+friend. My weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left
+me more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have
+been hopeless.
+
+Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree,
+everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and although I
+was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my mind and
+hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over myself, and I hoped
+that I should always determine to live the life of a healthy human
+being, that I should be able to accept the relationships which, through
+Company H, bound me to all men and all things, and that my interest
+henceforth would be diversified--touching the world and what is in it
+rather than myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain
+change was in the banishment of my former indifference.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we yet held
+our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was heard in every
+regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored in Richmond.
+
+"_Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"_ shouted
+Orderly-sergeant Mackay.
+
+By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid stride.
+Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.
+
+At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see before us
+and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in motion.
+
+Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding back
+along the line of the Light Division.
+
+Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the roar of
+cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and meadows; the
+passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go through gaps in
+rail fences.
+
+And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising from our
+left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait. The noise of
+battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company on our right is
+passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes the topmost rail at
+the left and hurls it clear over their heads. Then I see men pale, and I
+know that my own face is white.
+
+Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which rises to
+our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No breaking of ranks
+for rest or for water; the long night through we lie on our arms.
+
+Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry. At
+sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and down
+country roads; we go southeast.
+
+The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company C, the
+right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.
+
+Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An orderly
+comes to Captain Haskell.
+
+"_Company H!_ ATTENTION!"
+
+Every man is in his place--alert.
+
+"_Forward_--MARCH!"
+
+"_By the right flank_--MARCH!"
+
+"HALT!--FRONT!"
+
+"_Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take
+intervals--double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the left of
+Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or more, through
+woods and fields, the brigade following in line of battle.
+
+About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open
+land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had
+halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From this
+position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a group of
+horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road, or line, that
+would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at once in place. The
+distance was too great to tell the uniforms of the party of horsemen;
+but, of course, they could be only Yankees.
+
+Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The
+horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen or
+twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the most
+eligible one of the group, and fire.
+
+Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his
+shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to
+fire; they may be our men."
+
+The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put his
+handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A horseman
+advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company H, and said,
+"They are General Jackson and his staff."
+
+Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see tents--a
+camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a few men
+running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been abandoned
+hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly; they were curious
+to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the cracking of rifles was heard,
+and the singing of bullets, and the voice of Captain Haskell commanding,
+"_Lie down!_"
+
+Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent. The Yankee
+skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind trees on the
+opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I could see them looking
+out from behind the trees and firing. I took good aim at one and pulled
+the trigger; his bullet came back at me; I loaded and fired; I saw him
+no more, but I could see the smoke shoot out from the side of the tree
+and hear his bullet sing. I thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw
+him again, and fired, and missed. Then I carefully considered the
+distance, and concluded that it was greater than I had first thought. I
+raised the sliding sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the
+man, whom I could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the
+tree, and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind
+the tree.
+
+We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally; other men
+slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade was behind us,
+waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly I heard Captain
+Haskell's voice ordering us forward at double-quick. We ran down the
+hill into the valley below; there we found a shallow creek with steep
+banks covered with briers. We beat down the briers with our guns, and
+scrambled through to the other side of the creek in time to see the
+Yankees run scattering through the woods and away. We reached their
+position and rested while the brigade found a crossing and formed again
+in our rear. I searched for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but
+found none; yet I felt sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked
+another out from the tree above him.
+
+We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more. At
+length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed the
+withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them again until
+we should strike their main lines.
+
+Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt Jackson's--could
+be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left, marching forward and
+yet at a distance from our own line. We reached an elevated clearing,
+and halted. The brigade came up, and we returned to our position in the
+line of battle--on the left of the First. It was about three o'clock; to
+the right, far away, we could hear the pounding of artillery, while to
+the southeast, somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other
+side of the Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell.
+Shells from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped
+headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began firing.
+The line of infantry hugged the ground.
+
+Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a hollow;
+the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was on the hill
+beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were there and at
+work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were coming into line far
+to our right.
+
+General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the wooded
+slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the wooded
+hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill, still in
+the woods.
+
+The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted and
+re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was distinct;
+shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the trunks of the
+trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick with men firing
+into us in the woods. Those in our front were Zouaves, with big, baggy,
+red breeches. We began to fire kneeling. Leaves fell from branches above
+us, and branches fell, cut down by artillery. Butler, of our company,
+lying at my right hand, gave a howl of pain; his head was bathed in
+blood. Lieutenant Rhett was dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in
+the Yankee camp. He had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long
+aim, and fired; lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the
+effect, and yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot.
+Lieutenant Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker.
+Our colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two
+colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of the
+Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.
+
+A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--
+
+"_Bri-ga-a-a-de_--ATTENTION!"
+
+"_Fi-i-i-x_--BAYONETS!"
+
+"_For-w-a-r-d_--" and the next I knew men were dropping down all around
+me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute did we go forward. From
+front and left came a tempest of lead; again the colours--both--fell,
+and all the colour-guard. The colonel raised the colours. We staggered
+and fell back; the retreat through the woods became disorder.
+
+On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only six, but
+one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced, but shell and
+shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again in full action. We
+hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some regiment--the Thirtieth
+North Carolina--was advancing on our right. Captain Haskell and his six
+men joined this regiment, placing themselves on its left. The Thirtieth
+went forward through the woods--reached the open--and charged.
+
+The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man seeing
+whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his voice at
+its worst.
+
+Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found a sunken
+road, and the temptation was too great--down into the friendly road we
+fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the dust.
+
+The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the men
+calmly looked at their officers.
+
+A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging, gesticulating.
+He got near to Haskell--
+
+"Who _are_ you?" shouted our Captain.
+
+"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."
+
+"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.
+
+Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the
+Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the battle-flag
+high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up the hill.
+
+Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet, and
+followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world hideous
+with yells.
+
+And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great horse was
+lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was gained.
+
+The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North Carolina
+regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six were yet
+unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on its left, and
+charged with it for another position. Believe it or not, the same thing
+recurred; the regiment charged well; from the smoke in front death came
+out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be crossed, and was not crossed;
+down the men all went to save their lives.
+
+And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the road.
+
+Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the regiment;
+he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he looked not
+back, but forward.
+
+The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one of the
+six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that the regiment
+was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his Captain and told him
+that the regiment did not follow.
+
+The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I tell
+you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."
+
+Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag would
+not be taken back to the regiment lying down.
+
+On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The bullets
+and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came on--and the
+others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and tried to load, but
+could not. I felt a great pain strike under my belt and was afraid to
+look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at length I exerted my will,
+and controlled my fear, and saw my trousers torn. My first wound had
+deadened my leg, but I felt no great pain--the leg was numb. The new
+blow was torture. I managed to take down my clothing, and saw a great
+blue-black spot on my groin. I was confused, and wondered where the
+bullet went, and perhaps became unconscious.
+
+Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet lay on
+the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me. Had a tide
+of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly called for help, and
+I crawled to the voice, but could give no help except to cut a shoe from
+a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles could be seen,--the enemy's
+rifles,--they came nearer and nearer, and I felt doomed to capture.
+
+Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom a host
+of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the last charge
+of Gaines's Mill.
+
+"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two replied:--
+
+"Hood's brigade."
+
+"The Hampton Legion."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and moved and
+disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men with torches
+and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into the darkness by
+the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and for others who could
+not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina! First South Carolina!" and
+I gathered up my strength and cried, "Here!" Louis Bellot and two others
+came to me. They carried me tenderly away, but not far; still in the
+field of blood they laid me down on the hillside--and a night of horror
+passed slowly away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to the
+field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the battlefield. Our
+way was through scattered corpses. We passed by many Zouaves, lying
+stiff and stark; one I shall always call to mind: he was lying flat on
+his back, the soles of his feet firm on the ground, his knees drawn up
+to right angles above, and with his elbows planted on the grass, his
+fingers clinched the air. His open mouth grinned ghastly on us as
+we went by.
+
+At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous that I
+was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that was all. I
+had already found out that the bullet had passed entirely through the
+fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears; but the limb now gave me
+great pain, and I should have been glad to have it dressed. I was laid
+upon the ground under a tree and remained there until night, when I was
+put with others into an ambulance and taken to some station on some
+railroad--I have never known what station or what road. The journey was
+painful. I was in the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough
+roads, halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead.
+The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and begging for
+this or that. I did not know their voices; they were not of our company.
+But some time in the night I learned somehow--I suppose by his companion
+calling his name--that one of the men below me was named Virgil Harley.
+Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley? Why, I knew that name once! Surely I
+knew that name in South Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made
+aware that Virgil Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the
+railroad, I was taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil
+Harley. "He is dead," was the answer.
+
+Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest opportunity,
+now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able to tell me of
+myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had but heard his voice
+in groans that ended in the death-rattle.
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+A BROKEN MUSKET
+
+                                "What seest thou else
+     In the dark backward and abysm of time?
+     If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,
+     How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early morning.
+Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister unto the needs of
+the suffering; delicacies were served bountifully, and hearts as well as
+stomachs were cheered; there were evidences of sympathy and honour on
+every hand.
+
+Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old
+tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My clothing was
+cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of dirt and even
+worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the nurse brought me the
+contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the rest, a marble and a
+flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in the watch-pocket of my
+trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my "taw" in that pocket; the
+bullet had struck the marble, which had saved me from a serious if not
+fatal wound.
+
+The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred wounded
+men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few belonging to my
+regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance was quickly made,
+however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I think, was ever called
+by his name. He was Georgia, or Alabama,--his State, whatever that was.
+My neighbours called me, of course, South Carolina.
+
+Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot. I
+remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in ward
+vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I noticed that
+he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which were amazingly big
+blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why such buttons had been
+used. He replied that, a month before he had been on furlough at his
+home in Alabama, and that his mother had made him two new shirts, and
+had made use of the extraordinary objects which I now saw because they
+were all she had. He had told her jestingly that she was putting that
+big blue button on the middle of his breast to be a target for some
+Yankee; and, sure enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital
+was a rifle shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama
+laughed, too, but not long. He died.
+
+For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life there was
+totally void of incident. After the first week, in which we learned of
+the further successes of the Confederate arms and of our final check at
+Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt concerning Lee's army, now
+doing nothing more than watching McClellan, who had intrenched on the
+river below Richmond, under the protection of the Federal fleet. We
+learned with some degree of interest that another Federal army was
+organizing under General Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern
+hopes were so high in consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign,
+and the manifest safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no
+concern; of course I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I
+found myself.
+
+At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a little, and
+in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on crutches. On the
+first day of August I was surprised to see Joe Bellot enter the ward.
+The brigade had marched into Richmond, and was about to take the cars
+for Gordonsville in order to join Jackson, who was making head against
+Pope. It was only a few minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had
+to hurry back to the command.
+
+Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a
+furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home was
+Company H.
+
+I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong rapidly, when
+the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks at Cedar Run. Then
+my feverish anxiety to see the one or two persons in the world whom I
+loved became intense. I walked into the surgeon's office, keeping myself
+straight, and asked an order remanding me to my company. He flatly
+refused to give it. Said he, "You would never reach your company; where
+is it, by the way?"
+
+"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.
+
+"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."
+
+On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You would
+have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it would
+be insane."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."
+
+"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a half by
+getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me again in
+about a week."
+
+I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving me my
+papers, by means of which I got transportation to Gordonsville, where I
+arrived, in company with many soldiers returning to their commands, on
+August 22d. From Gordonsville I took the road north afoot. There was no
+difficulty in knowing the way, for there was no lack of men and wagons
+going and returning. I had filled a haversack with food before I left
+Richmond--enough for two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were
+all my possessions.
+
+At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot dusty
+road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which stopped as I
+approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to him. He said: "Don't
+go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man in the road and he's
+a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go round him." I thanked the
+teamster, who drove on. At the foot of the ascending hill I looked ahead
+to see whether there was a way to get round it, but the road seemed
+better than any other way. Heavy clouds were rolling up from the south,
+with wind and thunder. A farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the
+road; I wanted to get there if possible before the rain. In the road I
+saw nobody. I walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend
+the wagoner was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the
+side of the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into
+the middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun
+at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a word.
+Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an unpleasant
+experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he changed his attitude
+at once, and began the second part of his programme. He dropped his
+piece to the position of ordered arms, kept himself erect as on
+dress-parade, raised his right hand high, and shouted, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip round him,
+keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun might, after all,
+be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his cry, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him, and
+seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks with
+overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by cattle, I
+was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could hear behind me
+the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had lost his reason
+in battle.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting to
+surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were moving;
+Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General Gregg, riding at
+the head of his brigade; then one regiment after another till the
+last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C leading. I remained
+behind the tree; at last I could see Captain Haskell marching by the
+side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I stepped out and marched by the
+side of the Captain. At first, in the twilight, he did not know me;
+then, with a touch of gladness in his voice, he said: "I did not expect
+you back so soon. Are you fully recovered?"
+
+"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.
+
+He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and had me
+tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He informed me
+briefly of the movements which had taken place recently. The regiment
+had been under fire in the battle with Banks, but had not suffered any
+loss. On this day--the 24th--the regiment had been under fire of the
+Federal artillery on the Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a
+place called Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first
+movements of an active campaign.
+
+The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in the
+battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and hardship
+had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was almost the only
+officer in the company. My mess had broken up. There were but four
+remaining of the original nine, and these four had found it more
+convenient for two men, or even one, to form a mess. I found a companion
+in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been wounded severely at Gaines's Mill.
+Bellot had a big quart cup in which we boiled soup, and coffee when we
+had any, or burnt-bread for coffee when the real stuff was lacking.
+Flour and bacon were issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth,
+or gum-blanket as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by
+spreading it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When
+these boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender
+rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the fire on
+wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food brought from
+Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's ration was issued.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's right. I
+had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed so as to keep
+up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in the ranks or not,
+as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men. The day's march was
+something terrible. We went west, and northwest, and north, fording
+streams, taking short cuts across fields, hurrying on and on. No train
+of wagons delayed our march; our next rations must be won from the
+enemy. Jackson's rule in marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then
+ten minutes rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched,
+and rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at
+once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac near a
+village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles to the west
+of Pope's right flank.
+
+There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A detail from
+each company was ordered to gather the green ears from some fields of
+corn purchased for the use of the government. That night I committed the
+crime of eating eighteen of the ears half roasted.
+
+At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon straggled. I
+was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a place for me in some
+ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick woods and lay down; I
+slept, and when I awoke the sun was in mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps
+was ten miles ahead, but I was no longer ill. The troops had all passed
+me; there were no men on the road except a few stragglers like myself. I
+hurried forward through White Plains--then along a railroad through a
+gap in some mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last,
+about ten o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in
+despair, I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.
+
+Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry toward
+the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at sunrise, and
+soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our troops. Up to this
+time I had been unarmed, and all the men destitute of food; here now was
+an embarrassment of riches. I got a short Enfield rifle, marked for
+eleven hundred yards. Everything was in abundance except good water. The
+troops of Jackson and Ewell and Hill crammed their haversacks, and
+loaded themselves with whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies
+in too many cases. Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of
+smoking tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of
+vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea,
+medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken or
+burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were forced to
+drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its margin, and I know
+not what horrors beneath its green, slimy surface. Before daylight of
+the 28th we marched northward in the glare of the burning cars and
+camps. We crossed Bull Run on a bridge, some of the men fording; here we
+got better water, but not good water.
+
+In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed to know
+the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we making for
+Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain. He told me that
+he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place, but that he had no
+doubt we should be able to hold our own until Longstreet could force his
+way to our help. We were between Pope's army and Washington, and it was
+certain that Pope would make every effort to crush Jackson.
+
+About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west, down the
+Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's division had
+marched to Centreville; the other divisions of Jackson's corps were at
+the west, and beyond Bull Run. After matching a mile or two we could
+see to the eastward and south, great clouds of dust rolling up above the
+woods, evidently made by a column in march upon the road by which, we
+had that morning advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that
+Pope's army--or a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope
+was hot after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and
+halted in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most
+of us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and
+were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty. My
+increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in fact, the
+greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and accoutrements--consisted in
+food which diminished at short intervals. We could not yet
+expect rations.
+
+We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to march, and
+moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed line facing
+south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed the whole of
+Hill's division was there, though I could see only our regiment. Soon
+firing began at our right and right front; it increased in volume, and
+artillery and musketry roared and subsided until dark and after. At
+dark, the brigade again moved to the right, seemingly to support the
+troops that had been engaged, and which we found to be Ewell's division.
+
+We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to preserve
+the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of the enemy was
+passing just beyond the hills in front of us. Suddenly the sound of many
+voices broke out beyond the hills. The Federal column was cheering. Near
+and far the cry rose and fell as one command after another took it from
+the next. What the noise was made for I never knew; probably Pope's
+sanguine order, in which he expressed the certainty of having "the whole
+crowd bagged," had been made known to his troops for the purpose of
+encouraging them. Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what
+good fortune had made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet
+I believe that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night,
+had confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a
+certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one
+more victory.
+
+Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I do not
+know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very far, and that
+when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing northeast. Already the
+sound of musketry and cannon had been heard close in our front. Our
+regiment, left in front, was in the woods. We brought our right in
+front, and then the brigade moved forward down a slope to an
+unfinished railroad.
+
+Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that he would
+not need it.
+
+Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers. The
+regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into the fields
+beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company H. The regiment
+met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments from the brigade were
+hurried to the support of the First, which, by this time, was falling
+back before a full division of the enemy. The brigade retired in good
+order to the railroad, and Company H was ordered back into the battle
+line on the left of the First.
+
+[Illustration: Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"]
+
+It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment, under
+Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods as
+skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We came up
+with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began firing. We
+advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly through the woods.
+After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing that our small force was
+much too far from support, order was given to the skirmishers to retire;
+a heavy line of the enemy had been developed. This order did not reach
+my ears. I suppose that I was in the very act of firing when the order
+was given. While reloading, I became aware that the company had retired,
+as I could see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line
+some thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I
+feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many rifles.
+The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from my tree to
+another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar movement--and again--at
+each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and considering in front. At last
+I was out of sight of the enemy, and also out of sight of Company H.
+
+The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg had not
+regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well as weak. I
+crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for water. Still no
+enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or pool, following the wet
+place down a gentle slope, which inclined to my right oblique as I
+retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank my fill; then I filled my
+canteen and rose to my feet refreshed.
+
+Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar spanning the
+little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there for a second. Here
+was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide, this spot was what I
+should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen tree, mingling with the
+copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began to
+wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I crossed
+here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the right. What
+was the secret of the influence which the spot held over me? I had seen
+it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly puzzled.
+
+On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I picked up
+the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up the stock. Why
+should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew not, but I knew that I
+was drawn in some way by it. On the stock were carved the letters J.B.
+Who had owned this gun? John Brown? James Butler? Then the thought came
+suddenly--why not Jones Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd?
+Did I know who I was, or where I had been, or where I had not been?
+
+A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I dropped the
+gun and ran.
+
+I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And now we
+made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our position
+was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade, which was
+posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all around us. Soon the
+blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began firing. The Federals sprang
+at once to trees and began popping away at us. The range was close.
+Grant was mortally hit. My group of four on that day was reduced to one
+man. Goettee fell, and Godley. We kept up the fight. But now a blue line
+of battle could be seen advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept
+coming, reserving their fire until they should pass beyond their
+skirmish-line. We should have withdrawn at once, but waited until the
+line of battle had reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to
+fall back. When we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us,
+and we lost some men.
+
+Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which was now
+the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of the corps.
+Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's line.
+
+General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of Pope's army,
+without severing communication with Longstreet; but the developments of
+the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope and Washington while yet
+the corps of Longstreet was two days' march behind, and beyond the Bull
+Run mountains. Pope had made dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay
+Longstreet he occupied with a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which
+Jackson had marched and I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his
+other divisions had marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to
+retreat toward the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division
+reached Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope
+was marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer
+Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which had
+occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the passage of
+Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was thus forced to
+yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during the night of the
+28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington without a battle, but he
+decided to overwhelm Jackson before Longstreet could reach the field,
+and attacked hotly on the Confederate left.
+
+The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in consequence
+of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of Pope to
+overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope until
+Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within six hours'
+march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying in the woods,
+Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat, were marching with
+rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in their front, where,
+upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing division after division
+into the fight.
+
+Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a rail
+fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far side of
+the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of our line did
+not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in the battle we were
+forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the Federals advancing
+through the field to turn our left.
+
+Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme left before
+the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their coming straight
+through the woods upon us. They reached the undergrowth which bordered
+the farther side of the railroad way. The orders of their officers
+could be heard. We lay in the open woods, each man behind a tree as far
+as was possible; but the trees were too few. The dense bushes, which had
+grown up in the edge of the railroad way, effectually concealed the
+enemy. We were hoping for them to come on and get into view, but they
+remained in the bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We
+returned their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots
+would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at the
+line of smoke in the thick bushes.
+
+Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had retired; but if
+they had done so, it was only to give place to a fresh body of troops,
+which opened upon us a new and terrific fire. We had nothing to do but
+to endure and fire into the bushes. If our line had attempted to cross
+the railroad, not one of us would have reached it; the Federals also
+were afraid to advance.
+
+Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was only
+premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we stood that
+day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal lines gave way,
+or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods were thick with dead.
+Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box were dead. Joe Bellot was
+fearfully wounded. Many had been carried to the rear, and many yet lay
+bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be taken out when the fight ceased.
+Each man lay behind the best tree he could get; the trees had become
+more plentiful. We fired lying, kneeling, standing, sometimes running;
+but the line held. If we had had but the smallest breastwork!--but
+we had none.
+
+In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a force
+around our left--through the open field; but each time they were driven
+back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we could not see,
+somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before this time Longstreet
+had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of great fighting came from
+the east and southeast.
+
+We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although our
+boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up the
+cartridges of our wounded and dead.
+
+Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive with
+Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened ranks,--no
+longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots went high; before
+the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they had not waited
+to reload.
+
+Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near that
+every shot told.
+
+Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected groups; they
+are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a towering man--his
+sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great form and his long red
+hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour of his bearing. He makes
+no pause. He strikes right and left. Men fall away from him. Our group
+is scattering, some to gain time to load, others in flight. The great
+sergeant rushes toward me; his gun rises again in his mighty hands, and
+the blow descends. I slip aside; the force of the blow almost carries
+him to the ground, but he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his
+gun back over his shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will
+strike. I raise my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his
+expression yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed
+determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes through an
+indescribable change as the blood spouts from his forehead and he falls
+lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my rear[7].
+
+[7] The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's
+brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back Gregg's
+worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade of Ewell's
+division. [ED.]
+
+Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to flee from
+either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold fast and
+fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I see our flag,
+and near it a flag of the Federals.
+
+In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is left of
+them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic
+Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's sake,
+stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the flag. Our
+line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling away. Defeat is
+here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will shine the brightest
+over America; but now from our rear a Confederate yell rises high and
+shrill through the bullet-scarred forest, and a fresh brigade advances
+at the charge, relieves the vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far
+back the Federal tide of war. It was none too soon.
+
+On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered
+roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen
+responded; we had lost none as prisoners.
+
+The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in reserve. We
+were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in the rear of our
+position of the 29th, and details were burying our dead, when we were
+ordered to form. We marched some distance to the left. A low
+grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail fence at the woods
+about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came amongst us from the
+fence at the woods, toward which we were marching in column of fours,
+right in front. I heard the order from Major McCrady--"_Battalion--by
+companies_!" and Haskell repeated--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_On
+the right--by file--into line--MARCH_!" This manoeuvre brought the
+regiment into column of companies still marching in its former
+direction, Company H being the rear of all.
+
+Again I heard McCrady--"_Battalion--by companies_!" and Haskell
+again--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_Left--half wheel_!" and
+Haskell--"_Left wheel_!"--then McCrady--"_Forward into line_," and both
+voices--"_Double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close fire and
+by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective companies executed
+simultaneously their work, and as their graduated distances demanded,
+rushed forward, with a speed constantly increasing toward the left
+company, Company H, which wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence
+from which the enemy fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell
+severely wounded.
+
+For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged. We heard
+the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further part.
+
+On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying under
+fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or Chantilly as the
+Yankees call it. The regiment did not become engaged.
+
+The campaign of eight days was over.
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+CAPTAIN HASKELL
+
+     "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
+       The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
+     Hath had elsewhere its setting,
+       And cometh from afar;
+         Not in entire forgetfulness,
+         And not in utter nakedness,
+     But trailing clouds of glory do we come
+     From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.
+
+I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe Bellot
+was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept alone.
+
+For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one of
+these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me to
+accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was being
+done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he ordered in
+clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the duty had ended,
+he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree yonder."
+
+The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left--- that is,
+the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both vedettes and
+pickets, so far as they could be seen for the irregularities of ground.
+Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw off all official reserve.
+
+"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company did its
+full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."
+
+"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when the
+Yankees made that last charge."
+
+"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved earlier,"
+said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a little to the right
+of our position, the men fought the enemy with stones for lack of
+cartridges."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next movement?"
+
+"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am convinced
+that we cannot remain where we are."
+
+"Why?" I asked.
+
+"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I am told
+that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville. The bridges
+are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to rebuild them, as they
+would be constantly in danger from the enemy's cavalry. I am informed
+that McClellan's whole army, as well as Burnside's corps from North
+Carolina, has joined Pope; General McClellan is said to be in command.
+If Pope's army, which we have just fought, was larger than ours, then
+McClellan's combined forces must be more than twice as great as
+General Lee's."
+
+"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said I.
+
+"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I speculate also.
+It seems to me that every mile of a further advance would but take from
+our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If we could seize
+Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do that, I think, and as
+for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it. Even to sit down here could
+do us no good, I imagine; our communications would be always
+interrupted."
+
+"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I asked.
+
+"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am puzzled,"
+he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an opportunity to gain time
+for the South to recuperate, if we make prudent demonstrations; but an
+actual advance does not appear possible. General Lee may make a show of
+advancing; I dare say we could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does
+not such manoeuvre meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our
+enemies know it or should know it."
+
+I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an instance
+of his unfailing habit of courtesy.
+
+"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here, and
+ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat, what other
+course is possible?"
+
+"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to the
+belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take Harper's
+Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland people."
+
+"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"
+
+"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a
+considerable garrison."
+
+"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like
+McClellan's?"
+
+"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once, I
+should think that there would then be no good reason for this army's
+crossing the river. But military success is said to be obtained, in the
+majority of cases, from the mistakes of the losers. It might be that we
+could take Harper's Ferry at very little cost; and even if we should
+fail, we should be prolonging the campaign upon ground that we cannot
+hope to occupy permanently, and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What
+I fear, however, is that the movement would bring on another general
+engagement; and I think you will agree with me in believing that we are
+not prepared for that."
+
+"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.
+
+"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"
+
+"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last
+experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday there
+happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of it."
+
+"May I ask what it was?"
+
+"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen before."
+
+"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are typical.
+Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in twenty
+other places."
+
+"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical features
+of the place that awoke recognition."
+
+"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.
+
+"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced as
+skirmishers?"
+
+"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the Captain.
+
+"And you remember the order to fall back?"
+
+"Certainly, since I took the initiative."
+
+"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the very
+moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it. At any
+rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and retreated as
+skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight. I saw some signs
+of water, and soon found a branch, at a place which impressed me so
+strongly that for a moment I forgot even that the battle was going on. I
+am almost certain that I had quenched my thirst at that spot once
+before. Besides, there was an extraordinary--"
+
+"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the first battle
+of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last year's battle,
+you came upon it from the east or the south. The positions of the armies
+the other day were almost opposite their positions last year. In
+sixty-one the Federals had almost our position of last Friday. It will
+be well to find out what South Carolina troops were in the first battle.
+By the way, General Bee, who was killed there, was from South Carolina;
+I will ask Aleck to tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."
+
+"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had been
+there in some former life."
+
+"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a thought or
+have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with such an idea."
+
+"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"
+
+"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question surprises me,
+sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such subjects?"
+
+"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have once been
+familiar to me."
+
+"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is no
+telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine; you may
+have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading would have
+influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to thoughtful
+subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I think it quite
+probable, sir, without flattery, that at college your professor had an
+apt student."
+
+"But you do not believe the doctrine?"
+
+"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that we live
+after death."
+
+"And that I shall be I again and again?"
+
+"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you will be
+you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one death."
+
+"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your former
+experiences?"
+
+"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I might go
+so far as to say that it makes no difference."
+
+"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the past me
+with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought there, Captain.
+It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one before, and another
+now,--and that really I have lived this present time, or these present
+times, in two bodies and with two minds."
+
+"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought as to
+your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that memory is
+necessary to identity?"
+
+"And that is error?" I asked.
+
+"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves it. If
+memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you have a
+personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have you taken?"
+
+"I do remember some things," said I.
+
+"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof that you
+are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any one. Every one
+has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what happened when he was in
+swaddling clothes, though he is the same person now that he was then,
+which proves that although a person loses his memory, he does not on
+that account, sir, lose his identity."
+
+"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"
+
+"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."
+
+"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am, except that I
+am I."
+
+"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.
+
+"And I am distinct? independent?"
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the world
+who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know that we are
+seriously considering such a question."
+
+This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in some
+inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among fragments of
+thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten past. I felt helpless
+in the presence of the Captain; I could not presume to press his
+good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he added: "A man is
+distinct from other men, but not from himself. He constantly changes,
+and constantly remains the same."
+
+"That is hard to understand, Captain."
+
+"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything means every
+other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing, even the least,--if
+there be a least,--we should necessarily comprehend all things," said
+the Captain.
+
+Then he talked at large of the relations that bind everything--and of
+matter, force, spirit, which he called a trinity.
+
+"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God has the
+properties of matter?"
+
+"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter. Even our
+minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is anything else we
+conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are we bound to matter,
+and our thoughts are limited."
+
+"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"
+
+"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to image
+force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We try to
+image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to how God
+looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our imagination.
+Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot attribute
+extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the infinite mind has
+parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a contradiction."
+
+"Then God has no properties?"
+
+"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them, He has
+all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must attribute
+elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an elastic
+universal."
+
+"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force, and
+spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between God
+and matter?"
+
+"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above force."
+
+"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of it can
+be lost," said I.
+
+"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking at me
+fixedly, almost sternly.
+
+The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where _had_ I heard
+it? My attention had been so fastened on the Captain's philosophy that
+it now seemed to me that I had become unguarded, and that from outside
+of me a thought had been sent into my mind by some unknown power; I
+could not know whence the thought had come. I had suddenly felt that I
+had heard the theory in question. I knew that, the moment before, I
+could not have said what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without
+feeling that I was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain
+Haskell. Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had
+spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I had
+heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken
+differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a
+place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to
+something. But the flash had vanished.
+
+"It is lost," I said.
+
+"I am sorry," said he.
+
+"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot where I got
+water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun with J.B. on
+the stock."
+
+"Are you sure, Jones?"
+
+"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them closely."
+
+"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other
+reflections."
+
+"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."
+
+"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain; "you
+almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your name is
+Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of initials.
+Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."
+
+"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said I.
+
+"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult than
+J.B.?"
+
+"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three initials."
+
+"Yes, you are right in that," he said.
+
+"And I know I am right about my name." said I.
+
+"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We have
+three--or did have three--other men in the company whose initials are
+J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not recognize your own
+work in the lettering?"
+
+"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody might
+imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not another J.B. in
+Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant that he had any
+connection with that gun."
+
+"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"
+
+"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than Berwick.
+Beside, if you should change now, it would cause remark."
+
+"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South Carolina
+regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he. "You may go
+with me to see him to-night if you will."
+
+That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general, was
+able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of troops
+from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from that state.
+After hearing my description of the place which I thought I had
+revisited, he expressed the opinion that no Confederate troops at all
+had reached the spot in the battle of sixty-one. The place, he said,
+was more than a mile from the position of the Confederate army in the
+battle; still, he admitted, many scattered Federals retreated over the
+ground which interested me so greatly, and it was possible that some
+Confederates had been over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but
+as for pursuit, there had been none. I asked if it could have been
+possible for me to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the
+rear of the Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been
+allowed to keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in
+missing too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a
+baker's dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I
+think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there as a
+scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys call
+him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was at Stone
+Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell had turned our
+left and was marching down from Sudley. You might have been sent out to
+watch the enemy; yet I am confident that Evans would have used his
+cavalry for that purpose, for he had a company of cavalry in his
+command. A more plausible guess might be that you were out foraging that
+morning and got cut off. I will look up the Fourth South Carolina for
+you, and try to learn something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and
+I should not advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced
+that you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been
+recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection with
+your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find out who
+you are."
+
+"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose that a
+letter addressed to the manager would answer."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But--" I began.
+
+"But what?"
+
+"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an unknown man
+to tell me who I am?"
+
+"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who by this
+speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed on the roll
+of his company.
+
+As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain whether,
+in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged to the
+Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was pleased,
+evidently, by this question, and said that he should certainly try to
+hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should hope to be able to do
+so, as transfers were frequently granted, and as an application from me
+would come with peculiar force when the circumstances should be made
+known at headquarters. Of course, there would be no difficulty unless
+the application should be disapproved by my company commander, that is,
+the commander of my original company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C." inquiring if
+a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his house about October
+17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to learn from the hotel
+register, or from any other known source, the home of said Berwick.
+
+To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+BEYOND THE POTOMAC
+
+     "Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
+     And we are graced with wreaths of victory;
+     But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
+     I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
+     That will encounter with our glorious sun."
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in September, and
+marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th at White's Ford near
+Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in Maryland about midday of
+the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which, for the time, was too hard for
+me. My wound had again given me trouble; while wading the Potomac I
+noticed fresh blood on the scar.
+
+We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning Owens of
+Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly fell back and
+began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to him, but could do
+nothing to help him. He struggled for a few moments and became rigid.
+Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought there was no sense in going for
+help when all was over. The surgeon came and soon got Owens upon his
+feet. This incident made a deep impression on me. It seemed a forcible
+illustration of the trite sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life
+there's hope," and it became to me a source of frequent encouragement.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap of the
+Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful valley,
+dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody seamed
+to know.
+
+We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the Potomac at
+Williamsport, where we learned definitely that Longstreet's wing of the
+army had been held in Maryland. We marched southward to Martinsburg. The
+inhabitants were greatly rejoiced, and were surprised to find
+Confederate troops coming amongst them from the north. At Martinsburg
+were many evidences that we were near the enemy. Captain Haskell said
+that it was now clear that Lee intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that
+Longstreet's retention on the north side of the Potomac was part of the
+plan. We destroyed the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward
+the east. Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's
+Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon from
+our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing shells
+into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were replying.
+
+On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right. We found
+a narrow road running down the river,--the Shenandoah,--and moved on
+cautiously. There were strict orders to preserve silence. The guns were
+uncapped, to prevent an accidental discharge. In the middle of the night
+we moved out of the road and began to climb the hill on our left; it was
+very steep and rough; we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut
+a way for the artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.
+
+When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the enemy. Our
+batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of battle. The enemy
+replies with all his guns, but they were soon silenced. A brigade at our
+left seemed ready to advance; the enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then
+from our left a battery stormed forward to a new position much nearer to
+the enemy. We were ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to
+advance, but was at once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered,
+with eleven thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and
+munitions in great quantity.
+
+We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two, far-off
+sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after the surrender,
+A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only division at Harper's
+Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's corps having marched away,
+some said to the help of Longstreet on the north side of the Potomac;
+then we felt that some great event was near, and we wondered whether it
+should befall us to remain distant from the army during a great
+engagement.
+
+The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard in the
+north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in position
+while our details worked in organizing the captured property. The
+prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that they were to be
+released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered along the roads on the
+15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he rode by, and they seemed to
+admire him no less than his own men did. Late in the afternoon the
+regiment marched out of the lines of Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for
+the night some two miles to the west of the town.
+
+On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up the
+Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle were
+heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was hot, and
+the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick. About one
+o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond the river the
+march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had fallen out before we
+reached the river; now many more began to straggle. All the while the
+roar of a great battle extended across our front, mostly in our left
+front. We passed through a village called Sharpsburg. Its streets were
+encumbered with wagons, ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all
+the horrid results of war that choke the roads in rear of an army
+engaged in a great battle.
+
+Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one side of a
+hill and down the other side. On the slope of the opposite hill we
+halted, some of the troops being protected by a stone fence. The noise
+of battle was everywhere, and increasing at our right, almost on our
+right flank. Wounded men were streaming by; the litter-bearers were
+busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as waiting while in expectation of
+being called on to restore a lost battle from which the wounded and dead
+are being carried. Our time was near.
+
+Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg
+dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the
+colonels and the captains. We were to advance.
+
+While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect the
+capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before McClellan, who
+had collected an immense army and had advanced. The North had risen at
+the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac and McClellan's army,
+vast as it was, yet continued to receive reinforcements almost daily;
+his army was perhaps stronger than it had been before his disastrous
+campaign of the Chickahominy, his troops on James River had marched down
+the Peninsula and had been taken in transports to Fredericksburg and
+Alexandria. Porter's and Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had
+fought under Pope in the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had
+his own army, Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that
+could be got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize
+Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his
+lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in danger
+of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the surrender at
+Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched to reënforce
+Longstreet. Had not time been so pressing, Hill's division would not
+have been ordered to assault the works at Harper's Ferry--an assault
+which was begun and which was made unnecessary by the surrender.
+
+McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the separation
+of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's special order
+outlining his movements had fallen into General McClellan's hands. This
+order was dated September 9th; it gave instructions to Jackson to seize
+Harper's Ferry, and it directed the movements of Longstreet. With this
+information, General McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered
+General Franklin to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of
+Harper's Perry.
+
+On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked D.H. Hill's
+division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro, and Franklin
+carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though both of these
+attacks were successful, the resistance of the Confederates had in each
+case been sufficient to gain time for Jackson. On the 15th Harper's
+Ferry surrendered, and McClellan continued to advance; Longstreet
+prepared for battle.
+
+The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army, the
+Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.
+
+At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced march of
+seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found itself in front of
+the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting of Burnside's
+corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition in its front, and
+was now advancing to seize the ford at Shepherdstown and cut off Lee
+from the Potomac.
+
+A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few brigades
+which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout resistance, but,
+too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our right. Into the gap we
+were ordered. In the edge of the corn a rabbit jumped up and ran along
+in front of the line; a few shots were fired at it by some excited men
+on our left. These shots seemed the signal for the Federals to show
+themselves; they were in the corn, advancing upon us while we were
+moving upon them. There were three lines of them. Our charge broke their
+first line; it fell back on the second and both ran; the third line
+stood. We advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line
+fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of the
+hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also in thick
+corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this next hill a
+Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire only, as the guns and
+men were almost entirely covered. This battery was perhaps four hundred
+yards from us, and almost directly in front of the left wing of the
+First. The corn on our slope and in the hollow was full of Federals
+running in disorder. We loaded and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the
+naked slope opposite was dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired,
+and loaded and fired.
+
+In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet
+glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades of
+corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was afraid
+to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had not thought
+too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the butt on the ground,
+and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could be seen but the bayonet.
+I fired at the ground below the bayonet. The bayonet fell.
+
+An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a gallant
+officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to stop. He
+threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run on as soon as
+his back was turned. They were right to run at this moment, and he was
+wrong in trying to form on the naked slope. Beyond the hilltop was the
+place to rally, and the men knew it, and the gallant officer did not. He
+rode from group to group of fleeing men as they streamed up the hill. He
+was a most conspicuous target. Many shots were fired at him, but he
+continued to ride and to storm at the men and to wave his sword.
+Suddenly his head went down, his body doubled up, and he lay stretched
+on the ground. The riderless horse galloped off a few yards, then
+returned to his master, bent his head to the prostrate man, and fell
+almost upon him.
+
+The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On our left
+they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the sound of
+heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to develop from our
+left until they were uncovered in our front. They advanced, right and
+left; just upon our own position the pressure was not yet great, but we
+felt that the Twelfth regiment, which joined us on our left, must soon
+yield to greatly superior numbers, and would carry our flank with it
+when it went. The fight now raged hotter than before. I saw Captain
+Parker, of Company K, near to us. His face was a mass of blood--his jaw
+broken. The regiment was so small that, although Company H was on its
+left, I saw Sam Wigg, a corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his
+face. Then the Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the
+pressure upon us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and,
+while driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked.
+Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in retiring, it
+caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back. Now the enemy
+moved on the First from the front and the regiment retired hastily
+through the corn, and formed easily again at the stone fence from which
+it had advanced at the beginning of the contest. The battle was over.
+The enemy came no farther, and the fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.
+
+All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in position. A
+few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we were in hourly
+expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the Federals did not
+advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we were once more
+in Virginia.
+
+While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the battle of
+Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been fortunate, it was
+clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely escaped a great disaster. I
+have always thought that McClellan had it in his power on the 18th of
+September to bring the war to an end. Lee had fought the battle with a
+force not exceeding forty thousand men, and had lost nearly a third.
+McClellan, on the 18th, was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he
+waited a full day, and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross,
+almost leisurely, the difficult river in their rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of
+Shepherdstown.
+
+On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll called us
+once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the Potomac.
+Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be seen here and
+there. Men said that in the night McClellan had thrown a force to the
+south side of the river, and had surprised and taken some of our
+artillery. As we drew near the river, we could see the smoke of cannon
+in action spouting from the farther side, and from our side came the
+crackling of musketry fire.
+
+The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two lines of
+three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first line. Orr's
+Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and advanced to the
+river bank. The division moved behind the skirmishers. The ground was
+open. We marched down a slope covered with corn in part, and reached a
+bare and undulating field that stretched to the trees bordering the
+river. As soon as the division had passed the corn, the Federal
+batteries north of the Potomac began to work upon our ranks. The first
+shots flew a little above us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping
+well the alignment. The next shots struck the ground in front of us and
+exploded--with what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our
+range and made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards,
+was a depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells
+burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched on
+at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie down. The
+sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the hollow; they hugged
+the earth thick. Shells would burst at the crown of the low hill ten
+steps in front and throw iron everywhere. The aim of the Federal gunners
+was horribly true.
+
+We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water. Behind us
+came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells bursting in the
+ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were coming in their
+turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far above us to strike
+this new and exposed line. Behind us came the brigade; right against
+Company H came the centre of a regiment. The red flag was marching
+straight. The regiment reached our hollow; there was no room; it flanked
+to the left by fours; a shell struck the colour-group; the flag leaped
+in the air and fell amongst four dead men. A little pause, and the flag
+was again alive, and the regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.
+
+For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The fight had
+long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal batteries. To
+rise and march out would be to lose many men uselessly.
+
+A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt my hat
+fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a great pain
+seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was hit, but how
+badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such agony that I feared to
+look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I was the tallest man in Company
+H, and the Captain was lying very near to me. I said to him that I was
+done for. "What!" said he, "again? You must break that habit, Jones." I
+wanted to be taken out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and
+the heat and the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look.
+Perhaps I lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last
+I looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great contusion,
+and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the regiment, for
+the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not lessened their fire,
+and the sun was hot, and the men were suffering.
+
+As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched back to
+bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food and, at
+length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a fearful day.
+
+In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the
+Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded in
+getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who attempted the
+crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but with what truth I
+do not know--that blue corpses floated past Washington.
+
+After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps near
+Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where water was
+plentiful.
+
+From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven days--the
+Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns: first, that of
+the week in front of Richmond; second, that of Manassas; third, that of
+Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The Confederates had been clearly
+victorious in the first two, and had succeeded in the last in
+withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's Ferry, and with the honours of a
+drawn battle against McClellan's mighty army.
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+FOREBODINGS
+
+     "_King John_. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
+     _King Philip_. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near Bunker
+Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we learned of
+Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies of it were seen
+in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device of the enemy. Most of
+the officers and men of Company H were not greatly impressed by this
+action on the part of the Northern President. I have reason to know,
+however, that Captain Haskell regarded the proclamation a serious
+matter. One day I had heard two men of our company--Davis and
+Stokes--talking.
+
+"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.
+
+"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.
+
+"Yes; haven't you?"
+
+"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."
+
+"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"
+
+"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for Limus
+and Peagler."
+
+Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was one of
+Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but he could
+not write.
+
+The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain Haskell, and
+unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had undergone a
+modification that was very welcome to me; his previous reserve,
+indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a friendly interest,
+yet he was always courteous.
+
+"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course you do not
+wish me to speak to the men about you."
+
+"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters worse."
+
+"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"
+
+"Not a word, sir."
+
+"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased to
+exist."
+
+"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the Fourth South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think nothing
+further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such a man as
+Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that regiment. We shall
+know in a few days."
+
+"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.
+
+"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do. McClellan is
+giving us another display of caution, sir."
+
+"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month," said I.
+
+"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."
+
+"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.
+
+"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be said for
+McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has considerable nerve, as
+is shown by his resistance to popular clamour, and even to the urgency
+of the Washington authorities. The last papers that we have got hold of
+show that Lincoln is displeased with his general's inactivity. By the
+way, the war now assumes a new aspect."
+
+"In what respect, Captain?"
+
+"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the North to
+compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir. He burns
+his bridges."
+
+"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth greater
+effort?"
+
+"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel more
+strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men, such as are
+in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe, after a while, that
+the South is at war principally to maintain slavery, and in slavery they
+feel no interest at stake. In such conditions the South can do no more
+than she is now doing. She may continue to hold her present strength for
+a year or two more, but to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our
+ability. The proclamation will effectually prevent any European power
+from recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to
+endure a long war."
+
+"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue a war of
+invasion?"
+
+"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than defence.
+But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a defensive battle.
+Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are just the reverse. The
+way to win this war, allow me to say, is to fight behind trees and rocks
+and hedges and earthworks: never to risk a man in the open except where
+absolutely necessary, and when absolute victory is sure. To husband her
+resources in men and means is the South's first duty, sir. I hope
+General Lee will never fight another offensive battle."
+
+"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank any line
+of intrenchments that we might make?"
+
+"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which skilful
+generalship would know how to seize. If no such opportunities came, I
+would have the army to fall back and dig again."
+
+"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to the last
+ditch," said I.
+
+"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they need. Of
+course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical limit. It might
+be said that we could not fall back and leave our territory, which
+supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy. But to counteract this
+theory we have others. Disease would tell on the enemy more than on
+ourselves. Our interior lines would be shortened, and we could reënforce
+easily. The enemy, in living on our country, would be exposed to our
+enterprises. His lines of communication would always be in danger. And
+he would attack. The public opinion of the North would compel attack,
+and we should defeat attacks and lose but few men."
+
+Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change in the
+conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's Emancipation
+Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an end to hope of aid
+or intervention from Europe. His hope in the success of the South was
+high, however. The North might be strong, but the South had the
+righteous cause. He was saddened by the thought that the war would be a
+long one, and that many men must perish.
+
+I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare time,
+from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led Captain
+Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than he thought.
+
+He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for a long
+war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it mattered
+little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to expect any
+discovery of my former home and friends, and the army seemed a refuge.
+What would become of me if the war should end suddenly? I did not feel
+prepared for any work; I know no business or trade. Even if I had one,
+it would be tame after Lee's campaigns.
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS
+
+     "What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,
+     The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?
+     The varying fortune of each separate field,
+     The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"
+                                               --BYRON.
+
+Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now occupied a
+line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at Bunker Hill. We
+heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan; speculation was rife as to
+the character of the new commander. It was easy to believe that the
+Federal army would soon give us work to do; its change of leaders
+clearly showed aggressive purpose, McClellan being distinguished more
+for caution than for disposition to attack.
+
+On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley. The march
+lasted many days. We passed through Winchester, Strasburg, Woodstock,
+and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap, and marched to Madison
+Court-House. From Madison we marched to Orange, and finally to
+Fredericksburg, where the army was again united by our arrival on
+December 3d. The march had been painful. For part of the time I had been
+barefoot. Many of the men were yet without shoes.
+
+The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the morning
+of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the lines, I awoke
+with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling generally. The
+surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and ordered me to the camp
+hospital, which consisted of two or three Sibley tents in the woods. I
+was laid on a bed of straw and covered with blankets.
+
+I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How far off
+the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of Company H
+came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the 11th two of
+them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to march; the enemy was
+crossing the river and was expected to attack. These men told me
+afterward that when they said good-by they felt they were saying the
+long farewell; I was not expected to recover.
+
+On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of Fredericksburg
+roaring at the front, some two or three miles away, I was too ill to
+feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the morning, I was lifted
+into an open wagon and covered with a single blanket. In this condition
+I was jolted to a place called Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted
+out of the wagon and laid upon the ground. There were others near me,
+all lying on the ground. In many places the ground was white with snow;
+the wind cut like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock
+some men put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat
+and the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started. At
+twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men put me
+into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital, several miles
+out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the morning of the
+15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has always been a wonder,
+
+I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the middle of the
+ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide, was a big stove,
+red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of people--women-nurses and
+stewards, and perhaps some convalescing patients--singing religious
+songs. There was a great open space between the red-hot stove and the
+people around it. I wanted to lie in that open space.
+
+I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor until I
+was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped. "You'll burn to
+death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.
+
+For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an incident
+occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man in the
+company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general affairs. The
+army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known that fact on the
+night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General Gregg had been killed. The
+papers that I saw gave me some of the details of the battle, but told me
+nothing of the position of the army, except that it was yet near
+Fredericksburg. I did not know where Company H was, and I learned
+afterward that nobody in Company H knew what had become of me.
+
+The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery was slow
+and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to return, I
+wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end of February I
+had demanded my papers and had started for the army yet near
+Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a station called
+Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine or ten miles. I found
+Company H below Fredericksburg and back from the river. Captain Haskell
+was not with the company. He had been ordered on some special duty to
+South Carolina, and returned to us a week later than my arrival. Many of
+the men--though all of twenty-six men could hardly be said to be
+many--had thought that I was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since
+the battle of Fredericksburg.
+
+When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness for so
+serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee had fought
+at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind breastworks--and had
+lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole army had been caused by a
+mistake of our own officers, who refused to allow their men to fire upon
+a line of Yankees until almost too late, believing them to be
+Confederates. It was through this error that General Gregg, for whom the
+camp of the army was named, had lost his life.
+
+Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed variously--some
+with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards rudely riven from the
+forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and picket duty occasionally.
+
+The remainder of the winter passed without events of great importance.
+Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from the Fourth South
+Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it had been reorganized as
+a battalion, fitted with my description or with either of my names. I
+spent much time in reading the books which passed from man to man in
+the company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat more
+cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to show signs
+of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April the weather
+became mild. To say that I was content would be to say what is untrue,
+but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I knew that I had a
+friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired without reservation, and
+whose favours were extended to me freely--I mean to say personal, not
+official, favours. The more I learned of this high-minded man, the more
+did the whole world seem to me brighter and less deserving of disregard.
+He was a patriot. An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for
+a principle of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal
+interest to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle
+he was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me, was
+considered by him as a high, religious service, which he performed
+ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of his demeanour
+when leading his men in fight. His words were few at such times; he was
+the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of rant in action. Others
+would shout and scream and shriek their orders redundant and
+unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle English than all their
+distended throats. He was merciful and he was wise.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days' cooked
+rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a
+moment's notice.
+
+The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell into ranks.
+We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and formed in line of
+battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The enemy was in our front,
+on our side of the Rappahannock, and we learned that he had crossed in
+strong force up the river also. We faced the Yankees here for two days,
+but did not fire a shot.
+
+Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up the
+river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our front. The
+sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they increased in
+volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of the fight began to
+die away. The enemy were retiring before our advanced troops. Night came
+on, and we lay on our arms, expecting the day to bring battle.
+
+The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of Hooker's
+army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of artillery from
+which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the movement was retreat,
+and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so; but suddenly our march broke
+off toward the west, and the men could not conceal their joy over what
+they were now beginning to understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson
+was seen riding past the marching lines to the head of his column, or
+halted with his staff to see his troops hastening on.
+
+Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our backs
+were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of battle in
+our front. We moved along the road at supporting distance.
+
+Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the roar of
+the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous musketry. There
+was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us had swept on. We
+followed, still in column of fours upon the road, which was almost
+blocked by a battery of artillery.
+
+Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right was
+open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a breastwork from
+which the enemy had just been driven, leaving wounded and dead, their
+muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils yet upon the fires, blankets,
+knapsacks--everything.
+
+We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having become
+intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's division now
+formed the first line of battle.
+
+It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the distance
+told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again went forward.
+Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were halted in the
+thick woods.
+
+The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose a moon,
+the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full and in a
+cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two armies yet
+lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here and there a gun
+broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was not peace; now and then
+a film of cannon smoke drifted across the moon, which seemed to become
+piteous then. There was silence in the ranks.
+
+The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about nine
+o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about where
+Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful group of
+men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one whom we knew to
+be some high officer. Jackson had been shot dangerously by one of Lane's
+regiments--the Eighteenth North Carolina.
+
+General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent, and the
+line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once there came the
+noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery, and many batteries,
+and fields and woods were alive with shells and canister. More than
+forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our front. We lay and endured
+the fire. General Hill was wounded, and at midnight General Stuart of
+the cavalry took command of the corps. At last the cannon hushed. The
+terrible night passed away without sleep.
+
+At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under command of
+General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the enemy. Our brigade
+succeeded in getting into the works; but on our right the enemy's line
+still held, and as it curved far to the west it had us in flank and
+rear. A new attack at this moment by the troops on our right would have
+carried the line; the attack was not made. We were compelled to abandon
+the breastworks and run for the woods, where we formed again at once.
+
+And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an enfilade
+fire.
+
+At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole line;
+the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was won.
+
+Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant officer,
+had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our rear.
+
+We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed, and were
+ready to go forward and push the Federals to the Rappahannock, but no
+orders came. General Lee had just received intelligence of the second
+battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy, under Sedgwick, had taken the
+heights above the town, and were now advancing against our right flank.
+Our division, and perhaps others, held the field of Chancellorsville,
+while troops were hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the
+4th the Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the
+north bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of
+Hooker's army had recrossed the river.
+
+Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because of the
+enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his divisions, was not
+at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing the Federals under
+Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and thirty thousand, while
+Lee had less than sixty thousand men.
+
+We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days later we
+learned that the most illustrious man in the South was dead. No longer
+should we follow Stonewall Jackson.
+
+The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's the
+first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our General Gregg
+had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now McGowan's brigade.
+Our General Jackson had fallen at Chancellorsville, and we were now in
+the corps of A.P. Hill, whose promotion placed four brigades of our
+division under General Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks
+before had been addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division,
+Jackson's corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's
+brigade, Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk
+of letters?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General Pender, a
+battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of his division.
+Two or three men were taken from each, company--from the large companies
+three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had five regiments of ten
+companies each, so that McGowan's battalion of sharp-shooters was to be
+composed of about a hundred and twenty men. General McGowan chose
+Captain Haskell as the commander of the battalion. When I heard of this
+appointment, I went to the Captain and begged to go with him. He said,
+"I had already chosen you, Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the
+battalion was drawn up for the first time, orders were read showing the
+organization of the command. There were to be three companies, each
+under a lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the
+First. Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant
+of Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second
+sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then it
+came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.
+
+After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my approach.
+"You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't know the other
+men, and I do know you."
+
+I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me, and
+started to go away.
+
+"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of the
+company?"
+
+"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others and say
+they are good men."
+
+"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but you
+know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do almost all the
+skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four or five men in the
+battalion out of those companies. It is one thing, to be a good soldier
+in the line and another thing to be a good skirmisher."
+
+"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that anybody would
+prefer being in the battalion."
+
+"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence of mind
+to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like the
+battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the future. The men
+get their rations and their pay through their original companies, but
+are no longer attached to them otherwise. On the march and in battle
+they will serve as a distinct command, and will be exposed to many
+dangers that the line of battle will escape, though the danger, on the
+whole, will be lessened, I dare say, especially for alert men who know
+how to seize every advantage. But the most of the men have not been
+trained for such service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We
+must begin at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."
+
+"I will do my best, Captain," said I.
+
+"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some writing
+for me."
+
+That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was
+prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We
+drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill as
+skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of it.
+
+Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at Fredericksburg.
+Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the Shenandoah Valley, and
+onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery Hill. The Federals again
+crossed the Rappahannock, but in small bodies. Their army was on the
+Falmouth Hills beyond the river.
+
+On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our
+places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On either
+side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown up, and
+with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a fine shaded
+avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a Federal
+skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.
+
+Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in the low
+ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods, and broom-sedge
+covered the unwooded space between the opposing lines; rarely could a
+man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch and fired above the bank,
+which formed a natural breastwork. At my place, on the left of Company
+A, a large tree was growing upon the bank. I was standing behind this
+tree; a bullet struck it. The firing was very slow--men trying to pick a
+target. When the bullet struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise
+from behind a bush. I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed
+by me, and I saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the
+tree was struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good
+protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it gave
+me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless; at any
+rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain on my arm.
+I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between my arm and
+body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a scratch; the ball
+had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch below the armpit and had
+drawn some blood.
+
+We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had no
+losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the river. While
+going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of talk concerning
+their first day's experience in the battalion of sharp-shooters. They
+were to undergo other experiences--experiences which would cause them to
+hold their tongues.
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+GLOOM
+
+     "He was a man, take him all in all,
+     I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We broke camp
+on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper; Chester Gap,
+Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we forded the Potomac
+for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown at the ford by which we
+had advanced nine months before in our hurried march from Harper's Ferry
+to Sharpsburg. We passed once more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a
+village called Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our
+division rested for three days.
+
+On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small
+farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at cheap
+prices. Our Confederate money was received with less unwillingness than
+we might have expected. We got onions, cheese, and bread--rye-bread.
+Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted milk. Coming back toward
+camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine cows--a boy driving them home
+from pasture. We halted. Rhodes ordered the boy to milk the cows; the
+boy replied that he could not milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held
+the sergeant's gun, and he soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was
+talking with the boy.
+
+"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.
+
+"About two months ago," said he.
+
+"Is he the only brother you have?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How does he like the army?"
+
+"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but he
+couldn't."
+
+"And he doesn't like it now?"
+
+"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had to."
+
+"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the Yankee
+army?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."
+
+I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes had
+intended to pay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July 1st
+found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was great,
+although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and unobstructed, as
+though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do. Heth's division led the
+corps. We descended from a range of high hills, having in our front an
+extensive region dotted over with farmhouses and with fertile fields
+interspersed with groves. The march continued; steadily eastward went
+the corps.
+
+At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in front. We
+were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right, deployed, and the
+column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving as skirmishers
+parallel with the brigade.
+
+The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the right and
+went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a large low plain
+to the south. We halted in position, occupying a most formidable
+defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the division, and perhaps
+other divisions, went by into battle, and left us on the hill,
+protecting their flank and rear.
+
+Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in many
+small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within range of our
+rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our rear and left. We
+could see the smoke of burning houses and see shells burst in the air,
+and could hear the shouts of our men as they advanced from one position
+to another, driving the enemy.
+
+A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me a folded
+paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this note. I fear
+the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking for orders. Be
+back as quickly as you can."
+
+My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet burning.
+Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and Confederates. In one
+place behind a stone fence there were many blue corpses. The ambulances
+and infirmary men were busy. In a road I saw side by side a Confederate
+and a Federal. The Confederate was on his back; his jacket was open; his
+shirt showed a great red splotch right on his breast. Death must have
+been instantaneous.
+
+At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much farther
+forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender was yet on
+his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said, without looking
+at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."
+
+I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw Lieutenant
+Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer of the
+regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were wounded.
+The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy behind a stone
+fence and routed them, and had pursued them through the streets of the
+town and taken many prisoners. Butler and Williams had gone into a house
+foraging, and in the cellar had taken a whole company commanded by a
+lieutenant. Other tales there were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone
+entirely through the town, followed by straggling men, and had reached
+the top of Cemetery Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter
+disorganization, and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him
+to come on; but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped.
+The flag of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that
+of any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General Reynolds,
+had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had in the early
+hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the brigade had
+been captured.
+
+All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to give. I
+hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost time. It was not
+yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the second time over the bloody
+field. I passed again between the Confederate and the Federal whom I had
+seen lying side by side. Our man was sitting in the road, and
+eating hardtack.
+
+When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I told
+about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating hardtack,
+Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that Yankee's haversack!"
+
+For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At ten
+o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He made me
+sit by him.
+
+"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the other
+companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."
+
+"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.
+
+"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held in
+reserve."
+
+"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"
+
+"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say that it
+was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must be observed.
+Of course, if your company happened to be of average number and either
+of the others was very small, I should take Company A instead. But it
+does not so happen; so the work you have done to-day gives Company A a
+rest--if rest it can be called."
+
+"But why not take the whole battalion?"
+
+"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day have
+been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee attacks
+again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one defensive battle."
+
+"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville was a
+great victory--and to-day's battle also."
+
+"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the enemy
+is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against
+Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have stopped on
+Sunday morning after taking the second line of intrenchments. General
+Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the wrong time I dare say.
+Should he not have pressed Hooker into the river before giving attention
+to Sedgwick[8]?"
+
+[8] Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was impregnable
+to any attack the Confederates were then able to make. Hooker himself,
+as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to attack. Lee's march
+against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the right movement. See the
+Comte de Paris, _in loc_. [ED.]
+
+"Then you believe in attacking," said I.
+
+"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has been that
+we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we refuse to trouble
+them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you say, Chancellorsville
+was a great victory; anything that would have sent Hooker's army back
+over the river, even without a battle, would have been success. But
+speaking from a military view, I dare say it was a false movement to
+divide our forces as we did there. We succeeded because our opponents
+allowed us to succeed. It was in Hooker's power on Saturday to crush
+either Jackson or McLaws. Yet, as you suggest, General Lee was compelled
+to take great risks; no matter what he should do, his position seemed
+well-nigh desperate, and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on
+Sunday morning, before the action began, if General Lee had only known
+the exact condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would
+in the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have
+assaulted Hooker's works."
+
+"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.
+
+"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march against
+Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated. We had
+enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first Manassas, when
+Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won the battle by the
+steady conduct of a few regiments who held the enemy until Johnston's
+men came up. Of course I am not making any comparison between Generals
+Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and Chancellorsville are past, and
+observe, sir, what a loss we have had to-day. I dare say the enemy's
+loss is heavier, but he can stand losses here, and we cannot; another
+day or two like to-day, and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the
+enemy for a mile or so until it occupies a stronger position than
+before, is not--you will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which,
+the Confederacy began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He
+will attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot
+destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get any
+reënforcement. Indeed, Jones, I do not see how we can be reënforced at
+all--so far from our base, and the enemy so powerful to prevent it."
+
+"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"
+
+"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger every day,
+while we should become weaker. The enemy would not attack until we
+should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass our retreat and
+endeavour to bring us to battle."
+
+"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"
+
+"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we shall be
+losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not absurd for a
+small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation in the face of more
+powerful armies? If we had arms which the Federals could not match, we
+should find it easy to conquer a peace on this field. But their
+equipment is superior to ours. The campaign is wrong. If inactivity
+could not have been tolerated, we should have reënforced General Bragg
+and regained our own country instead of running our heads against this
+wall up here. But, do you not agree with, me that inactivity would have
+been best? Hooker's army would not have stirred this summer until too
+late for any important campaign. The year would have closed with
+Virginia secure and with great recuperation to all our eastern states.
+Our army would have been swelled by the return of our wounded and sick,
+without any losses to offset our increase. As it is, our losses are
+going to be difficult if not impossible to make up. I fear that Lee's
+army will never be as strong hereafter as it is to-night."
+
+"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"
+
+"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that. Look at the
+victories of this war. They have been claimed by both aides--many of
+them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort Donelson, where has
+there been a great victory?"
+
+"The Chickahominy," said I.
+
+"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the Federals,
+and McClellan escaped us."
+
+"Second Manassas."
+
+"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped on the
+second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now on
+that hill."
+
+"Fredericksburg."
+
+"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been allowed to
+get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the effect that Jackson
+was strongly in favour of a night attack upon the Federals huddled up
+on our side of the river?"
+
+"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital. You
+know I was not in the battle."
+
+"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished to throw
+his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the men were to
+wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that they might
+recognize each other."
+
+"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"
+
+"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals into the
+river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."
+
+"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's army?"
+
+"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside to get
+away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too merciful, and
+that he is restrained because we are killing our own people. If
+Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee might have
+listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have been balanced
+in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been killing Frenchmen, I
+dare say he would have had more fight in him on the 18th of September.
+After all that we read in the newspapers, Jones, about the vandalism
+practised in this war, yet this war is, I dare say, the least inhumane
+that ever was waged. I don't think our men hate the men on the
+other side."
+
+"I don't," said I.
+
+"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too unfortunate as to
+opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not destroyed; they get
+away; when we gain a field, it is only the moral effect that remains
+with us. War is different from the old wars. The only thorough defeats
+are surrenders. It would take days for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's
+at long range, even if Meade should stand and do nothing. We may defeat
+Meade,--I don't see why we should not,--but in less than a week we
+should be compelled to fight him again, and we should be weaker and he
+would be stronger than before."
+
+"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed whole
+armies."
+
+"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In Caesar's wars,
+for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical strength and endurance
+were the qualities that prevailed. The men became exhausted backing away
+or slinging away at each other. In such a condition a regiment of
+cavalry is turned loose on a broad plain against a division unable to
+flee, and one horseman puts a company to death; all he has to do is to
+cut and thrust."
+
+"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we could
+get reënforcements," I said.
+
+"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get twenty."
+
+"We could retire after victory," I said.
+
+"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know that he
+is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know that he is
+quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to me that his
+reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say his wonderful
+ability as an engineer accounts for it."
+
+"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France recognize
+us?"
+
+"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that? Ever
+since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of European
+recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon gone."
+
+"What was it, Captain?"
+
+"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by
+emancipating the slaves gradually."
+
+"Was that seriously thought of?"
+
+"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the main. We do
+not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked out that there
+was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether any vote was ever had
+I do not know; I dare say those in favour of the measure found they were
+not strong enough, and thought best not to press it."
+
+"What effect would such a course have had?"
+
+"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have
+recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a measure.
+In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would have been laid
+at rest. The North would have been eager to conciliate the South, and it
+would have become possible to reconstruct the Union with clear
+definitions of the sovereignty of the States."
+
+"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a gradual
+emancipation."
+
+"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in fact, there
+is great justification for it. It is too universal, however. It does not
+give enough opportunity for a slave to develop, and to make a future for
+himself. Still, we have some grand men among the slaves. Many of them
+would suffer death for the interest of their masters' families. Then,
+too, we have in the South a type unknown in the rest of the world since
+feudalism: we have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana,
+reproductions of the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The
+general condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an
+inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small share
+in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a slave at
+home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented. Witness his
+docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children while his masters
+are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds. Such conduct deserves
+recognition. I would say that a system of rewards should be planned by
+which a worthy negro, ambitious to become free, could by meritorious
+conduct achieve his freedom. But this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It
+is good for nobody. A race of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of
+infants with the physical force of men. What would become of them?
+Suppose the North should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies
+disbanded, and the States back in the Union or held as territories. Has
+anybody the least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the
+new dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the
+beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and
+would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro
+offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine. The
+result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would be far
+worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies should
+indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that our own
+people should be driven out and our lands given to the slaves--what
+would become of them? We know their character. They look not one day
+ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence, anarchy. And the worst
+men of the race would hold the rest in terror. Immorality would be at a
+premium, sir. The race would lose what it had gained. But, on the other
+hand, put into practice a plan for gradual freedom based on good
+conduct; you would see whites and blacks living in peace. The negro
+would begin to improve, and the white people would help him. It would
+not be long before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom,
+not race freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be
+great striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected
+thereby from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so
+done we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden
+emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout her
+dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she pays the
+owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a mistake for the
+Southern colonies, for South Carolina especially."
+
+"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."
+
+"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts had. Our
+best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied to the best of
+the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our trade with the
+mother country was profitable, and our products were favoured by
+bounties. We had no connection, with the French and Indian wars which
+had given rise to so much trouble between Great Britain and New England.
+But our people thought it would be base to desert the cause of
+Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the main reason that caused
+South Carolina to throw in her lot with that of our Northern colonies.
+See what we get for it. We renounce our profitable commerce with
+England, and we help our sister colonies; just so soon as their
+profitable commerce with us is threatened by our withdrawal, they
+maintain it by putting us to death. It is their nature, sir. They live
+by trade. If they continue to increase in power, they will hold the West
+in commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever
+reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of trade."
+
+"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"
+
+"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New England
+suffered very little. New York suffered; so did Pennsylvania and New
+Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South Carolina, which was in
+reality no more than a conquered province for years, and yet held
+faithful to the cause of the colonies. And it was the eventual success
+of the Southern arms that caused the surrender of Cornwallis. The North
+is very ungrateful to us."
+
+"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should have
+been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.
+
+"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would have been
+freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them. England and
+America could have controlled the world in peace; but here we are,
+diligently engaged in killing one another."
+
+"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever before."
+
+"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I have
+hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."
+
+"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.
+
+"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to
+retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from the
+situation,--- but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be
+disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."
+
+"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"
+
+"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and have
+losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and those of us
+who are able to march shall see Virginia again."
+
+"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded here?"
+
+"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this war is
+truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to the common
+soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in slaves, give their
+lives for independence--- the independence of their States. Yet it is
+useless to grieve in anticipation."
+
+"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said I; "at
+least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in battle to
+death by disease."
+
+"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.
+
+     "'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,
+       The appointed and the unappointed day;
+       On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,
+       Nor thee, on the second, the Universe slay.'"
+
+"Who is that, Captain?"
+
+"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."
+
+"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"
+
+"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."
+
+"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"
+
+"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"
+
+"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems not
+unfamiliar. Is he living?"
+
+"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of your old
+personal friends?"
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back
+somewhere."
+
+"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name that
+strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."
+
+"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."
+
+"In what sense, Captain?"
+
+"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East is
+fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is inconsistent."
+
+"But you are not a fatalist."
+
+"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the ends that
+we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is blocked out in
+the large for us by powers over which we can have no control, but that
+within certain limits we do the shaping of our own lives."
+
+"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will be
+done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world does
+one battle, more or fewer, have?"
+
+"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the result is
+nothing; but every event is important to some life."
+
+"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over yonder, and
+that we could have occupied it but that our men were recalled."
+
+"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy would only
+have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging at
+this moment."
+
+Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to do your
+full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more we have to do,
+the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must collect all our
+energies, and each man must do the work of two. Impress the men strongly
+with the necessity for courage and endurance."
+
+The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain good night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the brigade, which
+was in line a little to the south of the Seminary. The sun shone hot.
+The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery roared at our left and far
+to our right. At times shells came over us. A caisson near by exploded.
+In the afternoon a great battle was raging some two miles to our right.
+Longstreet's corps had gone in.
+
+At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On the
+litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men gathered around.
+Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of them approached the
+litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men came slowly back--one at a
+time--grim.
+
+I asked who it was that had been killed.
+
+"Captain Haskell," they said.
+
+My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell? Our
+Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I now knew
+that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable. He had passed
+through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to so many deaths that
+had refused to demand him, had so freely offered his life, had been so
+calm and yet so valiant in battle, had been so worshipped by all the
+left wing of the regiment and by the battalion, had been so wise in
+council and so forceful in the field, had, in fine, been one of those we
+instinctively feel are heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could
+not be! There must be some mistake!
+
+But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw Sergeant
+Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke down utterly.
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+NIGHT
+
+     "From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
+      The hum of either army stilly sounds,
+      That the fixed sentinels almost receive
+      The secret whispers of each other's watch."
+                                               --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was ordered
+forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down the hill in
+front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with cannon and
+intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was alive with
+skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we advanced. Down our hill
+and into the hollow; there the fire increased and we lay flat on the
+ground. Our skirmish-line was some two or three hundred yards in front
+of us, in the wheat on the slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.
+
+Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the wheat; what
+for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know[9]. It was Ramseur's brigade
+of Rodes's division.
+
+[9] Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at
+the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill. [ED.]
+
+Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the left
+guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought it likely
+that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into its ranks.
+
+Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the wheat. We
+could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing and shouting;
+they charged the Federal army. What was expected of them? It seemed
+absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many rifles could be
+seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down the hill,
+helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us, and went back
+toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.
+
+It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets of the
+next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket in these
+parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had remained and
+must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.
+
+Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a circuit
+to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned and passed
+word down the line to the lieutenant in command of Company A that I
+wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I explained the trouble. The
+lieutenant did not know what to do. This gentleman was a valuable
+officer in the line, but was out of place in the battalion. He asked me
+what ought to be done. I replied that we must not fail to connect, else
+there would be a gap in the line, and how wide a gap nobody could tell.
+If I had known then what I know now, I should have told him to report
+the condition to Colonel Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but
+I did otherwise; I told him that if he would remain on the left, I would
+hunt for the picket-line. He consented.
+
+I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and searched a
+long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of Company A and
+proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for our pickets. The
+lieutenant approved.
+
+The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front. I moved
+slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon, over which
+bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be hidden I went
+forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and looked. Here and there
+in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns, and many signs of battle.
+The wheat had been trodden down.
+
+Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of the
+battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in most places
+untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see our own men. I
+went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right I saw a fence, or
+rather a line of bushes and briers which had grown up where a fence had
+been in years past. This fence-row stretched straight up the hill toward
+the cemetery. I went to it. It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the
+shelter of this friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was
+now in front of Company A's right.
+
+The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards in
+advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and crawled along
+the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant pausing and looking. I
+reached a denser and taller clump of bushes, and raised myself to my
+full height. In front were black spots in the wheat--five paces apart---
+a picket-line--whose?
+
+The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat with
+the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back, lest the
+metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in front of me, and
+on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to stretch across the
+front of the whole battalion. If that was our picket, why should there
+be another in rear of it? They must be Yankees.
+
+I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The line was
+perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men nearer to
+me,--officers, or men going and returning in its rear,--but the line
+seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not seem tall enough for
+standing men. No doubt they were sitting in the wheat with their guns in
+their laps. I heard no word--not a sound except the noises coming from
+the crest of the hill beyond them, where was the Federal line of battle.
+I looked back. Seminary Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun,
+picked it up, rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no
+longer see the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my
+right in order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had
+not budged.
+
+I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt almost
+sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We ought to have
+sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why we did not, I do not
+know, unless it was that we felt it our duty to solve the difficulty
+ourselves. The left of the battalion was unprotected; this would not do.
+Something must be done.
+
+I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals to ten
+paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The left platoon
+extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from centre to left.
+This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap. Still no pickets
+could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left and returned.
+
+Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the left
+until something was found. He would have filled the interval, even had
+it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps apart, at
+least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General Pender.
+Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to the
+right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent word to
+him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was growing. How wide
+was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other side of this gap
+search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a brigade or more might
+creep through the gap; still the lieutenant did not propose anything.
+
+At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked like a
+Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that I thought I
+could get nearer to it than I had been before, and speak to the men
+without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun to fear sarcasm. What
+if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line of gray pickets in our
+front? Should I ever hear the last of it?
+
+Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of anything. He
+was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had proposed an advance
+of Company A up the hill, he would have approved, and would have led
+the advance.
+
+The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the place where
+I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther. Again the thought
+came that there would have been some communicating between that line and
+ours if that were Confederate. If they were our men, we had been in
+their rear for three hours. Impossible to suppose that nobody in that
+time should have come back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line,
+and I was in its front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they
+had a man or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could
+be no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my
+progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not less
+black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre
+night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were, they
+felt strongly the presence of the enemy.
+
+Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a
+gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along which I
+was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed. There had once
+been a gate hanging to that post and closing against another post now
+concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would crawl to that post out
+there, and speak to the men in front. They would suppose that I was in
+the fence-row, and, if they fired, would shoot into the bushes, while I
+should be safe behind the post--such was my thought.
+
+I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak, I
+thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The black
+spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front. The line
+stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the left--through
+the fence-row.
+
+It was not necessary to speak very loud.
+
+I asked, "Whose picket is that?"
+
+My voice sounded strangely tremulous.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would be no
+sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said, "Come up and
+see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see that the black
+spots had become large objects; the moon was shining.
+
+I must ask again.
+
+I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead that day.
+
+I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's brigade?"
+
+No answer.
+
+Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina brigade?"
+
+Not a word.
+
+It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men? Certainly
+Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two or three men
+might rush forward and seize me before I could get to my feet. Yet,
+would not a line of our men out here be silent? They would be very near
+the enemy and would be very silent. But they would send a man back to
+make me stop talking. They were Yankees; but why did they not say
+something? or do something? Perhaps they were in doubt about me. I was
+so near their lines they could hardly believe me a Confederate. I half
+decided to slip away at once.
+
+But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy the
+lieutenant and myself also.
+
+Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that is?"
+
+A voice replied, "Our brigade!"
+
+This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had heard it
+frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for troops to pass,
+you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and some-would-be wag would
+say, "Our regiment."
+
+I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly. Before
+I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees also had
+this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees selected one man
+to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to preserve silence, and
+was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A man perhaps who knew
+something of the sayings in the Southern army?
+
+Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud, "What army
+do you belong to?"
+
+Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"
+
+I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word "you."
+
+Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out in front
+and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did they not bid me
+come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very likely they thought I
+was trying to desert, and feeling my way through fear of falling into
+the hands of the wrong people.
+
+I replied at once, "I am a rebel."
+
+What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know, unless it
+was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe, being in their
+rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at once accept the
+challenge. I wanted to end the matter.
+
+They accepted.
+
+A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen rifles
+cracked.
+
+They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but then, no
+bullet can be heard at such a nearness.
+
+I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to rise and
+run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could manage better. I
+would remain quiet until they should think I had gone. Then I would
+crawl away.
+
+Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start. Suddenly
+a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the fence-row. A Yankee
+had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary pitch, but very gruffly,
+"Who _are_ you, anyhow?"
+
+If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones. It was
+my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to come, but the
+next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how many I was, and I
+stuck fast.
+
+I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back and
+reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate front.
+
+Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking back to
+our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had been warned
+that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from firing on me. They
+had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets had whistled over them,
+and they had thought me a prisoner, so when they saw a man coming toward
+them they were itching to shoot.
+
+We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the skirmish-line at the
+left of Pender's division.
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+HELL
+
+     "Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;
+      Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,
+      Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."
+                                                        --BYRON.
+
+The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as the sun
+was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced. Down the hill
+they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a countercharge, and the
+battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were almost intermixed with them
+before they ran. And now our lieutenant of Company A showed his mettle.
+He sprang before his company, sword in his left hand and revolver in the
+other, and led the fight, rushing right up the hill, and, when near
+enough, firing every barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both
+lines settled back to their first positions.
+
+We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the rear to
+carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four men lifted the
+stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled heavily to the
+ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot, leaving but two; they
+raised their stretcher in the air and moved it about violently. The
+Yankees ceased firing.
+
+The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly work
+ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails, covered with
+wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon appeared along the
+line. The protection was slight, yet by lying flat our bodies could not
+be seen. On their side the Yankee skirmishers also had worked, and were
+now behind low heaps of rails and earth. Practice-shooting began, and
+was kept up without intermission for hour after hour.
+
+We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the men to be
+sparing with water.
+
+From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the Seminary--could
+see through the cupola from one window to the other. The Seminary was
+General Lee's headquarters.
+
+To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn. Captain
+Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn. It was five
+hundred yards from the pits of Company A.
+
+The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond the right
+of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced from the
+Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn. They began to
+enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we were engaged in front.
+
+A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down the line
+for me to take his place at the right of the company.
+
+Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in Company
+A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.
+
+We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right oblique
+five hundred yards.
+
+We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two hundred
+yards.
+
+A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see him
+loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his shoulder. I
+took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I thought of the
+Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any hatred of him? And the
+answer came: No; I am fighting for life and liberty; I hate nobody. I
+fired, and saw the man no more.
+
+Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy recovered it.
+
+Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line of
+battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our losses
+were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until past midday,
+and there was no sign of an ending.
+
+At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then the
+devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the air was
+full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal batteries
+answering doubled the din and made the valley and its slopes a hell of
+hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went far over our heads; we
+were much nearer to the Federal artillery than to our own. Some of our
+shells, perhaps from defective powder, fell amongst us; some would burst
+in mid air, and the fragments would hurtle down. The skirmishing
+ceased--in an ocean one drop more is naught.
+
+I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with his hat
+over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were unrelieved. The men
+were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained, haggard, battle-worn, and
+stern. Still shrieked the shells overhead, and yet roared the guns to
+front and rear--a pandemonium of sight and sound reserved from the
+foundation of the world for the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun
+went out in smoke. The smell of burning powder filled the land. Before
+us and behind us bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of
+this awful picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its
+foreground the peaceful city of the dead.
+
+For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth and sky;
+then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness was but brief.
+Out from our rear and right now marched the Confederate infantry on to
+destruction.
+
+We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men stand,
+regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than eighteen hours
+we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope. We knew that our
+line, marching out for attack, could not even reach the enemy. Before
+it could come within charging distance it would be beaten to pieces by
+artillery. The men looked at the advancing line and said one to another,
+"Lee has made a mistake."
+
+The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary Ridge.
+
+The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the valley and
+up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front and right,--and
+far to the right,--pumping death into its ranks.
+
+I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words concerning
+General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military man; I knew
+nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had knelled the doom
+of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone fences the flower of
+the Army of the Potomac protected by two hundred guns. It was simply
+insane. It was not war, neither was it magnificent; it was too absurd
+to be grand.
+
+Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the
+skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the spot
+where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was already in
+tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all described
+Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line came on like
+troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too gallant; but there
+was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on Seminary Ridge were looking
+at Pickett's division from its rear; the blue men were looking upon it
+from its front; from neither position could the alignment be seen; to
+them it looked straight and fine; but that line passed by me so that I
+looked along it, and I know that it was swayed and bent long before it
+fired a shot. As it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty,
+forty, even fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men
+for this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry, but
+for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and left, a
+semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed the ground
+with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an iron tempest
+such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at Gettysburg--- a
+tempest in which no army on earth could live.
+
+I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came under the
+fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged, because the gaps
+could not be filled as fast as they were made; but the fragments kept on
+up the hill, uniting as they went.
+
+And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the sound,
+that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their battle.
+Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking; the thunder
+of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and our men--those
+that are left, but not the line--still go forward.
+
+Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right swarm
+out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his front still
+stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men live to pass.
+
+Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere have long
+ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch the struggle for
+the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where a few trees stand,
+smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and fate are working as they
+never worked. Lines of infantry from either flank move toward the
+whirlpool. They close upon the smoke.
+
+Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running
+half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the
+hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become prisoners.
+
+A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their right
+and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of Confederates
+advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The battle of
+Gettysburg is over.
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+FALLING-WATERS
+
+                      "Prepare you, generals:
+     The enemy comes on in gallant show;
+     Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
+     And something to be done immediately."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division leading.
+Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The slow retreat
+continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown we formed line
+of battle.
+
+The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers advanced
+against us. We held our own, but lost some men.
+
+The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits made of
+fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and ate the grain
+uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but with little
+success. There was great suffering from hunger.
+
+For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown, skirmishing
+every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded the battalion. We
+were told that the Potomac was at a high stage, and that we must wait
+until a pontoon bridge could be laid.
+
+At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters received
+orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then to retire. The
+division was withdrawing and depended upon us to prevent the advance of
+the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet to the skin and almost
+exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and watching.
+
+At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone. We
+followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was deep; the
+army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten miles. After
+sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then, behind us. We supposed
+that the enemy's advance was firing on our stragglers as they would try
+to get away. The march was very difficult, because of the mud and mainly
+because of our exhaustion.
+
+We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile away.
+It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we could see
+a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and wagons--some filing
+slowly away to the south, others standing in well-ordered ranks. On some
+prominent hills batteries had been planted. It was a great sight. The
+sun was shining on this display. Lee's army had effected a crossing.
+
+On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At the
+river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with stacked
+arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to cross; for there
+was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was yet passing, and it
+would take hours for all to cross.
+
+We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men to
+decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped on the
+ground, to rest and sleep.
+
+The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all around
+me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired, with his gun
+at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men on horses were
+amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with pistols which they were
+firing. Our men were scattering, not in flight, but to deploy.
+
+A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He was
+standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed and fired.
+He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up and went
+headforemost to the ground.
+
+The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who had
+ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance squadron.
+More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty yards long,
+covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to allow the enemy to
+see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted troops at the head of the
+bridge. The numbers of the Federals constantly increased. They
+outflanked us on our right. They dismounted and deployed as skirmishers.
+They advanced, and the fighting began.
+
+Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines, and the
+berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired. I never saw
+so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over us and amongst
+us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw hat that I had
+swapped for with one of the men; where he had got it, I don't know. My
+hat was a target. I took it off.
+
+The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From the
+division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us. The
+regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy still
+increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we had a
+skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force ready to
+strengthen any weak part of the line.
+
+The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line was
+reëstablished. They got around our right and a few of them got into our
+rear. One of them rode up to Peagler of Company H, an unarmed infirmary
+man; he brandished his sword and ordered Peagler to surrender. Peagler
+picked up a fence-rail and struck the rider from his horse.
+
+Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house, firing
+from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their flanks and
+rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the house, and the
+company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded, who, however,
+got away.
+
+General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had already
+lasted three hours and threatened to continue.
+
+At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing numbers of
+the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again, we could see that
+the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops were on the south side
+of the river. On the bridge were only a few straggling men
+running across.
+
+And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its crest was
+occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they began busily to
+pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat in my hand.
+
+We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to throw
+shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion flanked to
+the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong across, with Yankee
+bullets splashing the water to the right and left; meanwhile our
+batteries continued to throw shells over our heads, and Federal guns,
+now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were answering with spirit.
+
+
+
+XXXV
+
+AWAKENINGS
+
+                             "'Tis far off;
+     And rather like a dream than an assurance
+     That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling Waters,
+the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We marched a
+mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At night we
+received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.
+
+On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out. Starvation
+and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered greatly, not from
+fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of ranks, went fifty yards into
+the thicket, and lay down under a tree.
+
+That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared. I shrank
+from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing it.
+
+My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard of the
+surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of demoralization had
+touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg; but now men talked
+despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed hopeless.
+
+Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had gone on.
+What interest had they in me or I in them? I had fever.
+
+The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the thicket.
+A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of fifty
+thousand; they have gone on.
+
+Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not
+whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My
+Captain has gone.
+
+Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.
+
+At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The life I
+live is too difficult.
+
+And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The Captain has
+not died too soon.
+
+What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him. I shall
+never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt; I am still
+enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ... into what? What
+does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying here? Can he put
+thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am? What does he think now
+of slavery? of State rights? of war?
+
+He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is better. He
+is at peace. Would I also were at peace.
+
+I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to the road,
+fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor Federal was in
+sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at Bunker Hill.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were approaching
+Culpeper.
+
+During the months of August and September we were in camp near Orange
+Court-House.
+
+My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I should
+have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had so greatly
+suffered because of the Captain's death.
+
+My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no purpose. To
+fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I had no relish for
+fighting. Fighting was absurd.
+
+The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he imagined
+General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great reluctance in
+giving orders that would result in the death of Americans at the hands
+of Americans. I remembered that at Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the
+trigger, I had found no hatred in me toward the man I was trying to
+kill. I wondered if the men generally were without hate. I believed they
+were; there might be exceptions.
+
+We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's division.
+We had camp guard and picket duty.
+
+Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had been
+dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was monotonous. Some
+conscripts were received into each company. Many of the old men would
+never return to us. Some were lying with two inches of earth above their
+breasts; some were in the distant South on crutches they must
+always use.
+
+The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious. Captain
+Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.
+
+I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I made an
+object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy. Where had there
+ever been such an experience? I thought of myself as Berwick, and pitied
+him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him _you_.
+
+Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had been
+promoted, and was elsewhere.
+
+At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many successive
+nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the "me" that I saw
+as a different person from the "me" that saw.
+
+My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the surgeon.
+
+Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long ago given
+me up for dead.
+
+Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My mind was
+filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How I ever began
+to think of such, a possibility I could not know.
+
+My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and powerful
+and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the strong likelihood
+was that it was neither, but was of medium worth.
+
+My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman, young and
+sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who was she? Was
+she all fancy?
+
+Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman except the
+nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in Richmond and
+elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the face of my dream.
+None seemed it's equal in sweetness and dignity.
+
+I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the men. I
+had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel, and as the
+lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.
+
+No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history of myself
+that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but one--Jerry
+Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was a great forager,
+and kept us both in food. The rations were almost regular, but the fat
+bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The other men were in good
+health, and ate heartily of the coarse food given them. Butler had bacon
+and meal to sell.
+
+The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did not
+exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not decide to
+say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell him all I
+knew. He would have thought me insane.
+
+I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket
+regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner self.
+
+At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would recur
+to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my original
+regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time in which to
+ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if ever I got the
+smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and there to never
+let it go.
+
+Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be gone
+before I could define them. They left no result but doubt--sometimes
+fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset me--not of this war, but
+war. I had a vague notion that in some hazy past I had listened to
+strong reasons against war. Were they from the Captain? No; he had been
+against war, but he had fought for the South with relish--they did not
+come from him. None the less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they
+more strongly impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from
+some one who not only gave precept but also lived example.
+
+Who was he? I might not hope to know.
+
+Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at times
+strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men were good
+men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said against them; but I
+felt that I was not entirely of them, that they had little thought
+beyond their personal duties, which they were willing always to do
+provided their officers clearly prescribed them, and their personal
+attachments, in which I could have no part. Of course there were
+exceptions.
+
+I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had a
+certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet an
+incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not mere pity.
+The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company H. A lieutenant
+was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate was our highest
+non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the company's commander.
+The officer in command did not, however, use influence upon the men to
+secure votes. My preference for the position was Louis Bellot, who had
+been dangerously wounded at Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon
+return to the company. I took up his cause, and, without his knowledge,
+secured enough votes to elect him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a
+miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was failing.
+Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts of this war. It
+was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason told me that the
+invaders should be driven back. The South had not been guilty of
+plunging the two countries into war; the South had tried to avert war.
+The only serious question which my mind could raise upon the conduct of
+the South was: Had we sufficiently tried to avert war? Had we done all
+that we could? I did not know, and I doubted.
+
+As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon marching
+on to battle, and I thought of all this immense preparation for
+wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with horror in my heart. Why
+could not this war have been avoided? I did not know, but I felt that an
+overwhelming responsibility attached somewhere, for it was not likely
+that all possibilities of peace had been exhausted by our people.
+
+As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes and their
+responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with them; but I
+was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine, and upon me also
+weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust upon our side.
+
+The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me the
+cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong. I looked
+in the faces of the officers and men around me and read patient
+endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at myself and said,
+Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious; go to the doctor and
+get well of your fancies.
+
+Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the Federal
+soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of men are they?
+They must believe they are right. And one side or the other must be
+wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are millions. Millions of
+men are joined together to perpetrate wrong while believing that they
+are right? Can such a condition be?
+
+Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other men in
+whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of either
+side impure?
+
+No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may differ
+conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.
+
+Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is wrong in
+warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for? For union and
+for abolition of slavery; but primarily for union.
+
+And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for slavery; but
+principally for State rights.
+
+And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+Then, may both North, and South be right?
+
+The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where? Not in
+the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had to confess
+failure. The result of my thought was only the suggestion that both of
+two seemingly opposite thoughts might possibly be true.
+
+On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a city,
+where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and at whose
+house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon my mind that
+when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the 9th, while we were
+crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march through Madison
+Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of the face of my dream.
+I thought of little else. Food was repugnant. I had fever, and was full
+of fancies. I was surprised by the thought that I had twice already been
+ill in the army. Once was at the time of the battle of Fredericksburg;
+but when and where was the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I
+had been sick in the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and
+before I ever saw Dr. Frost.
+
+Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result. Suddenly I
+connected the face of my dream with my forgotten illness. But that was
+all. My old tutor was a doctor and had attended me. I felt sure of
+so much.
+
+Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name. Some
+name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr. Some-one I had no
+doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the face of my dream, but it
+would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr. Frost had never been my teacher.
+
+We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north of
+Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not
+unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near by,
+the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect of this
+farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when alone I
+hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous march around
+Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the Shenandoah Valley after
+Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our retreat from Pennsylvania.
+
+What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in the
+camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as yet
+uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We might be
+advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to Meade's rear,
+just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two; another day might
+show. The most of the men believed that we were on a flank march similar
+to Jackson's, and some of them went so far as to say that both Ewell's
+and Hills corps were now near Madison Court-House.
+
+I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was upon
+myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me, but lay
+apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is true, reverted
+to the situation of the army, but only for a moment. Something was about
+to be done; but if I could have controlled events, I would not have
+known what to choose. One thing, however, began to loom clear through
+the dim future: if we were working to get to Meade's rear, that general
+was in far greater danger than he had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at
+Manassas Junction, between Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac
+would yield from starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there
+was no army to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.
+
+The night brought no movement.
+
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+THE ALPHABET
+
+                    "I stoop not to despair;
+     For I have battled with mine agony,
+     And made me wings wherewith to overfly
+     The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.
+
+On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I recognized the
+place; I had straggled through it on the road to Gettysburg. Again we
+went into bivouac early.
+
+That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to any clew
+I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I wondered how I could
+make a step toward an end.
+
+To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said will was
+required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of thinking all
+names that I could recall. My list was limited. Naturally my mind went
+over the roll of Company H, which, from having heard so often, I knew by
+heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so on; the work brought an idea. I
+remembered hearing some one say that a forgotten name might be recovered
+with the systematic use of the alphabet. I wondered why I had not
+thought at once of this. I felt a great sense of relief. I now had a
+purpose and a plan.
+
+At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could get was
+Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built upon the
+letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might be one of
+these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to rely upon except
+the hope that the real name, when found, would kindle at its touch a
+spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were exhausted--nothing.
+
+Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in
+nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether the
+sound awoke any response in my brain.
+
+I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I stored it
+up for future examination.
+
+Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I separated into
+two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and hard. This
+examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of hard C.
+
+H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.
+
+The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.
+
+L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.
+
+At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve, but not
+to give it equal rank with the others.
+
+Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u, and
+rejected all.
+
+The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.
+
+In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C hard, G
+hard, and K, with P a possibility.
+
+It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active, though
+I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it had been for
+days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on track of discovery.
+It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to get where I
+was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would likely take me
+hours more to advance a single step farther.
+
+A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very unusual
+name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen written, except as
+the name of this Doctor? This thought included other thoughts--one was
+the idea of a written name. I had been following but one line of
+approach, while there were two,--sound and form. I had not considered
+the written approach, but now I saw the importance of that process.
+Another thought was, whether it would help me for the name to be not
+merely unusual, but entirely unknown. I could not decide this question.
+I saw reasons for and against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except
+as applied to the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to
+roll names and names through my brain for years without result, if my
+brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an old
+man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted another,
+wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in hunting a word
+impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and put it to sleep.
+The uncommon name would cause me to reject all common names, perhaps at
+first presentation; my attention would be concentrated on peculiar
+sounds and forms. If my mind were now in condition to respond to the
+name, I might get it very soon.
+
+In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my objective, for
+I sank to sleep.
+
+At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the night's
+work. I wrote as follows:--
+
+C G K.... P
+
+Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that impressed me.
+I had C without any following.
+
+For G, I had _Gayle_, or _Gail_.
+
+For K, _Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight_.
+
+For P, only _Payne_.
+
+We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them without
+looking at what I had written.
+
+All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare
+initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.
+
+Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What was its
+peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would leave it. It
+did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted to it simply
+because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed up large in my
+mind and took enormous precedence.
+
+The name Payne was given up.
+
+But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to Payne. If K
+was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took me an hour to
+find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined to find it. It was
+simple, after all--the attraction lay in the letters a-y-n-e. At once I
+added to my K's the name Kayne, although the name evoked no interest.
+Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane was much easier and added it to
+my list, wondering why I had not thought of it before.
+
+The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight? The
+peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not drop the
+name, but tried to sound each of my others as two syllables.
+
+"What's that you say, Jones?"
+
+It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.
+
+I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me, Ka-mes,
+Kay-me."
+
+The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through woods or
+fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground, but saw it not.
+My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds through my
+ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants and one or
+two vowels.
+
+Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain Haskell's
+quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's name? I soon had
+it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam and Kiyam to my list. We
+marched on.
+
+Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h. I felt
+greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which had the K
+sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more in Knight?
+Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and the vowel I had
+also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way toward Ki, or toward
+K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.
+
+Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le, Ki-me,
+Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me, involuntarily holding
+to the unfamiliar sound.
+
+For a long time I worked without any result, and I became greatly
+puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I repeated
+over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor Ka-mes, Doctor
+Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes, Doctor Ki-yam." The
+last name sounded nearly right.
+
+The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face with
+bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words again, and
+at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit the face to the
+name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor Ka-me, they do not fit;
+Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me,
+Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they dominated all
+other words. The strangeness of the name did not affect me; in fact, the
+name was neither strange nor familiar; and just because the name did not
+sound strange, I took courage and hope. I reasoned that such a name
+ought to sound strange, and that it did not was cheering. I was on the
+brink of something, I knew not what.
+
+We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps marched by on
+a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that we were ordered
+to bivouac.
+
+My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so great
+importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered that this
+one name was the clew to my past life, and was the beginning of my
+future life; the recovery of one name would mean all recovery; I had
+resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this name, and I felt convinced
+that I should find it, and soon. What was to result I would risk; months
+before, I had not had the courage to wish to know my past, but now I
+would welcome change. I was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life;
+I would hazard the venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former
+condition should prove unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance
+to escape it--by being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be
+much worse than my present state.
+
+That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown forward a
+mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but one opinion
+among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army was flanking
+Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had been sent to Georgia
+with his corps. But why were we making such short marches? Several
+reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said we were getting as near as
+possible first, "taking a running start," to use his words. Youmans
+thought that General Lee wanted to save the army from straggling before
+the day of battle. Mackay thought Ewell would make the long march, and
+that we must wait on his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as
+Ewell had marched to our right.
+
+Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around Meade. We
+were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of it, from which
+Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun, while Meade now occupied
+Pope's former position. Could General Lee hope that Meade, with Pope's
+example staring him in the face, would allow himself to be entrapped?
+This question was discussed by the men.
+
+Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley last
+June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing Meade
+would recall.
+
+Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far advanced for
+Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson thought that General
+Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try to effect the very thing
+he had once succeeded in; besides, he said, every general must provide
+against every contingency, but it is clearly impossible to do so, and in
+neglecting some things for others, he runs his risks and takes his
+chances. Meade would not retreat until he knew that the flank movement
+was in progress; to retreat in fear of having to retreat would be
+nonsense; and if Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all
+up with him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his
+tactics and follow the retreat.
+
+On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at least in our
+front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we overlooked the river,
+and every man was a vedette, as it were. I lay in the line, trying to
+take the first step leading to the reconstruction of my life.
+
+"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been abandoned,
+I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker power to hold me
+had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was imperfect. It did not
+seem wrong, but deficient rather; something was needed to complete
+it--what was that something?
+
+Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I wondered why.
+I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam was a poet? No;
+that could be no reason. Was it because he was a Persian? I could see no
+connection there. Was it because of the peculiar spelling of the name?
+It might be. What was the peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must
+think again of the written or printed name, not the sound only of
+the word.
+
+Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.
+
+I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought "Khay-me."
+
+By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and
+simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my brain.
+It would not do.
+
+Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not discouraged. I
+thought of no other name. Everything else had been definitely abandoned.
+Without reasoning upon it I knew that the name was right, and I knew,
+as if by intuition, how to proceed to a conclusion. I tried again, and
+knew beforehand that I should succeed.
+
+This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I did three
+things.
+
+There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top of the
+hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote "Doctor Khayme."
+I held the words before my eyes; I called the face of my dream before
+me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."
+
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+A DOUBLE
+
+     "One of these men is genius to the other;
+      And so of these: which is the natural man,
+      And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his
+daughter. I know her name--Lydia.
+
+Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of
+sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face of my
+fancy, but for the look of care.
+
+Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on the bank
+of the river.
+
+For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath. Now I felt
+that I must move or die.
+
+I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar
+physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned on
+my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my chin
+resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing nothing.
+
+Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of paradise.
+
+The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare hill; a
+shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands violently, and
+fell. The picture vanished.
+
+Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had fallen--was
+making his painful way alone in the night; he went on and on until he
+was swallowed by the darkness.
+
+Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in blue
+uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither officer
+nor man; both were in blue.
+
+Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I saw him
+standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him sick in a
+tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.
+
+Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue helping
+another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide themselves in a
+secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is the place I saw at
+Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man breaks his gun. The
+two go away.
+
+So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had belonged
+to this man.
+
+Who was this man?
+
+A soldier, evidently.
+
+What was his name?
+
+I did not know.
+
+Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?
+
+He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate spy.
+
+My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should recover
+the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would be the key
+to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be suddenly complete and
+continuous, but now I found the Doctor supplanted by a strange man whose
+name even I did not know, and who acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming
+to be a Confederate and at other times a Federal. I must exert my will
+and get rid of this man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have
+eaten nothing; I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever.
+I will get rid of him.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an ambulance,
+but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the picture, and
+tried again.
+
+Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden in a
+straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.
+
+Who is Willis?
+
+I do not know; only Willis.
+
+It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the Doctor
+without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's face flits
+by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain an
+instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man persisted,
+and contrary to my will.
+
+My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there no Dr.
+Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face was again
+before me. That look of care--or worse than care, anxiety--could it be
+mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my fancy, but the look was its
+own. I recognized the face, but the expression was not due to my thought
+or to my error; it was independent of me.
+
+I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the Man!
+Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who sometimes
+wore blue and sometimes gray.
+
+Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was nothing
+in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of the moon at
+Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of my Captain,
+lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the enemy. My brain
+was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I doubted all reality. My
+fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves were all unstrung. I felt
+upon the boundary edge of heaven and hell. I knew enough to craze me
+should I learn no more. I watched the moon; it took the form of Lydia's
+face; a tree became the strange Man who would not forsake me.
+
+Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was mysterious.
+His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The others are real.
+I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and her name. I know Willis
+and his name. The Man's face and name are unknown; yet does he come
+unbidden and uppermost and always.
+
+I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
+retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
+Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
+Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
+Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
+Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a new
+thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at Gaines's
+Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.
+
+But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
+Manassas.
+
+But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first Manassas.
+
+Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped Willis. Why
+should he help Willis?
+
+Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
+soldier?
+
+I know his face and I know his name.
+
+I must hunt this thought down.
+
+Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
+experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and his
+companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.
+
+But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from the
+spot? He was not captured.
+
+Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these two men.
+I must try to remember whether I saw what became of them.
+
+Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange man; he
+binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there! again a
+thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that before--with
+the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I could see that Willis
+was a sergeant; but how could I know that his name was Willis? Possibly
+I heard the strange man call him Jake--So! again it comes. I have the
+full name.
+
+But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to rise,
+and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch, and helps
+him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis drops the gun, for
+it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless. Then the strange man
+breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them moving slowly through the
+woods--but strange! they are no farther from me than before. I must have
+really followed them that day. They go on and get into the creek, and
+climb with difficulty the farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they
+reach a stubble field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels
+by one of the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down;
+then he speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he
+tells Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
+does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
+himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.
+
+I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I must not
+now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.
+
+Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained by Jones,
+and I go with Jones even though I want to see what becomes of Willis.
+
+It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I feel that
+he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear sounds of rattling
+harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops and looks at the wagon; I
+see a man get out of the wagon--a very small man; the man says, "Is
+that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who this man is, and though I wonder I
+yet know that he is Dr. Khayme. Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor
+calls for brandy. Then the Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in
+my head and all vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.
+
+It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I could
+not doubt it.
+
+The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my place
+near the right of Company H.
+
+What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground, and
+that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after that?
+
+My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him and
+failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see him, and
+failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer in regard to
+Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones and in regard to
+myself also. I had got to the end of that experience, for I had no doubt
+that it was an experience of my own in some incomprehensible connection
+with Jones.
+
+Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see Jones and
+Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man also. Who is
+he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an ambulance, and all
+go away into darkness.
+
+My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had not
+abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither? Both? If
+both, which followed the other? I did not know.
+
+I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I fail. I
+had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure; I try
+again, and fail.
+
+Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot remember
+Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.
+
+Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the corporal
+in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only Jones I can
+recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different Jones; who was
+he? I must try to get him.
+
+The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the Doctor
+in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting ready for what?
+A package has been made. They are talking. The lights are put out and I
+lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones. In the dim light of the stars
+he comes out of the tent; a man on a horse is near; he holds another
+horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts, and the two ride away. And I hear
+Jones ask, "What is your name?" and I hear the man reply, "Jones."
+
+What folly!
+
+But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then another
+picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in the night:
+Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate horse as black as
+jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men, and the other Jones is
+there, too, and I see that he is joyful that Jones is caught. What utter
+folly! Is everybody to be named Jones? I have followed one Jones and
+have found two--possibly three. Who is the true Jones? Is there any true
+Jones? Has my fevered brain but conjured up a picture, or series of
+pictures, of events that never had existence? Why should one Jones be
+glad that another Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.
+
+Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had resulted in
+an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I gave myself up to
+mere revery.
+
+Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was also an
+end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr. Khayme, and of
+Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with possibly another Jones;
+with these names I ought to work out the whole enigma. I knew that Jones
+was the man who had broken his gun; the man who had helped Willis; the
+man who had been under the bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another
+thought,--the man who had been wounded there.
+
+I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more relations found
+would untangle everything. But how to find more? I must think. Yet
+thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could quit thinking, the
+thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit thinking? I remembered that
+I had received lessons upon the power of the will from Captain Haskell
+and ... from ... somebody ... who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.
+
+And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any, could
+there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused way I groped
+in the tangle of this question until I became completely lost again,
+having gained, however, the knowledge that Dr. Khayme had taught me
+concerning the will.
+
+I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the effort was
+vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the Doctor's dark
+face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a pipe--yes, a pipe, with its
+carven bowl showing a strange head; and I could recall more easily the
+Captain's long jaw, and triangle of a face, and even the slight lisp
+with which he spoke. What relationship had these two men? If Captain
+Haskell had ever known Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of
+the Doctor? I had known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where
+had I known the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my
+teacher. Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor
+associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and with
+Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an
+ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.
+
+Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate
+hospital.
+
+The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and the
+Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a possibility? My
+brain became clearer. My people must be in Charleston. The Captain may
+have known the Doctor in Charleston. They may have been friends. They
+talked of similar subjects--at least, they had views which affected me
+similarly. Yet that might mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.
+
+Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant these
+two men seemed to me to be at once identical and separate--even
+opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I remembered that the
+Captain once had said he was not sure that there was such a condition as
+absolute individuality. Preposterous or not, the thought, gone at once,
+had brought another in its train: I had never seen these two men
+together, and I had never seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the
+Doctor was, there was Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering
+notion of double and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was
+seemingly a Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he
+was a Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas
+had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun rather
+than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had helped a
+wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been part of a very
+deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully that he would be
+received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather to act in entire
+conformity with his supposed character. He must always act the complete
+Federal when with federals, so that no suspicion should attach to him.
+No doubt he had remained in the Federal camp until he had got the
+information needed, and had returned to the Confederates before he had
+been wounded by the shell.
+
+So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every effort
+I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That Jones was a
+Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd notion of a double had
+drawn me away from the right track; he was a double, it is true, but
+only on the surface; he was a Confederate acting the Federal.
+
+Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary about
+him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his capacity to
+interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he changes clothing. No,
+not his only one; he has another: he is absolutely ubiquitous.
+
+That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear? Just
+because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is clear. My
+head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may be delusion. Dr.
+Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but as to this Jones, or
+these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief. Jones remains. Wherever I
+turn I find him. He will not down. If he is a fact, he must be the most
+important person related to my life. More so than Lydia?
+
+What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none the
+less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all, that my name
+is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought shows me that this
+supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones, and the spy was my
+brother, I should have heard of him long ago.
+
+Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself? The
+Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and I had
+never heard of one of them.
+
+But if he had been my brother, _he_ would have hunted _me_, and would
+have found me! That was it.
+
+This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been killed!
+
+He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ... that is
+why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him since. Why had I
+at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I see that I assumed too
+much--or too little. I had seen him under the fire, and had seen him no
+more; that was all.
+
+Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been killed.
+
+It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of events, does
+not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the ground again, just
+as the events succeeded, from antecedent to consequent, rather than
+backward. It is more difficult--leaving memory aside--to take present
+conditions and discover the unknown which evolved these conditions, than
+to take present conditions and show what will be evolved from them. Of
+course, if we already know what preceded these conditions, there is no
+discovery to be claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our
+knowledge of the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere
+development naturally augured from the present. An incapable general
+means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable general.
+
+Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill where I had
+seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had only proved the
+truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a considerable distance,
+and from the past had followed Jones forward as well as my imperfect
+powers permitted; again I had jumped back and had followed him until he
+met the Doctor in the night. The episode of lifting Willis into the
+ambulance seemed a separate event of very short duration. My mind had
+unconsciously appreciated the difficulty of working backward, and had in
+reality endeavoured to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing
+Jones into several periods and following the events of each period in
+order of time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it,
+became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to
+suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural process.
+
+First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in blue,
+helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him when he
+reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor come to
+Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third, Jones--alone
+and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell bursting over him,
+and I lose him.
+
+I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred, and
+none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been lost to me,
+if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I wanted to find
+connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the Jones at the secret
+place in the woods with the Jones that I had seen fall, and I set my
+memory to work, but obtained nothing. The scene on the hill seemed
+unrelated to that of Willis.
+
+There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a forest at
+night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make nothing out of
+it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred before the time of
+Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of Jonas in a tent, and of
+an officer in blue showing him a map, and I could also remember that I
+had seen or heard that Jones had been on a shore with the Doctor and
+Lydia. These events had no connection. Between Jones in blue and Jones
+in gray there were gaps which I could not cross.
+
+Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events with the
+more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the past, hunting for
+the slightest clews.
+
+And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim past,
+that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the Doctor
+attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I strained my head
+to recall this scene more clearly. In this case Jones had no uniform;
+neither did the others wear uniform. And now a new doubt--why in a tent
+and without uniform?
+
+For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that the
+Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so early a
+period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or felt that Doctor
+Khayme's relationship with me was so near that, had he been a
+Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long since.
+
+Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought which
+followed.
+
+But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I could not
+have told, but I knew it.
+
+Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like intuition in my
+knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not be wounded rather than
+sick? How could I know that this scene in the tent was not the sequence
+of the scene of the bursting shell? But I say that I knew Jones was
+sick, and not wounded. How could I know this?
+
+And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I knew
+that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.
+
+I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I reached
+the conclusion that only one of these events was an instance of
+knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that Jones was in gray
+in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had _he_ told me so? I knew that
+he had been sick. Had he told me so? In any case, I knew these things
+and knew that my knowledge was simple. But how could I know that Jones
+was now alive?
+
+Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make was, that I
+felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to myself for this
+knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than intuition. I felt
+that it was experience, not the experience of sight or hearing or any of
+the senses, but experience nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to
+call it so in these days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was
+none the less valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did
+not doubt. There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is
+alive, seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor
+touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will he
+have the life of expression and intelligence in his face. Communication
+between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or direction. But I
+saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature; the change of feature
+is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of the world affects every
+individual mind ... where did I hear such an idea advanced? From whom?
+Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.
+
+I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many pages, of
+the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.
+
+I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ... why, then,
+was he in the army?
+
+Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as a
+surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the tent
+itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore
+no uniform.
+
+But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a surgeon?
+And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance made the army
+almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers, assisted by the
+Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon, although he wears no
+uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on occasions; when at work at his
+calling he puts it off.
+
+I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything anew--in
+a new light.
+
+I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not found me?
+Again comes that thought of double personality, and this time it will
+not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's utterances upon the
+universal mind, and upon the power of the will. I can remember that I
+had almost feared him ... and suddenly I remember that Willis had said
+that the Doctor could read the mind ... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?
+
+My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march had come,
+I could not have moved.
+
+What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had simply
+remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could tell what
+another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had spoken the
+words to ME!
+
+Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he had my
+mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be? But I
+remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to mind
+extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a
+double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with mind
+is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am Jones. No
+wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder that I knew he
+wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was not dead.
+
+Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I am Jones
+Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.
+
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+IDENTITY
+
+     "Which, is the side that I must go withal?
+     I am with both: each army hath a hand;
+     And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
+     They whirl asunder, and dismember me."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of blue
+soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the rout. How
+vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them then--of Dr.
+Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to desert even, in
+order to accomplish his designs.
+
+Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a mist. But
+what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only pretended to
+desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember what Jones Berwick
+felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he found pretended desertion
+necessary?
+
+Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter he
+could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now knew that I
+was once in that army.
+
+But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?
+
+Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I could not
+have easily gone North to enlist.
+
+But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier, so that
+there would have been no need of desertion?
+
+No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been asked my
+regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment. I remember
+the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when Berwick Jones
+joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside the Confederate
+uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in civilian's clothing, merely
+because I could not bear to have questions asked. So, when I had played
+the Federal, if I had presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not
+have answered questions, and the requirement to report to my company
+would have destroyed my whole plan.
+
+Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining civilian's
+clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended recruit, just as I
+had joined Company H later. This was less unlikely when coupled with the
+thought that possibly my first experience in this course had had some
+hidden influence on my second.
+
+But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a Confederate?
+The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of forgetting must be the
+reason. When, as Jones Berwick the Confederate, I became Berwick Jones
+the Federal, there must have come upon my mind a phase of oblivion
+similar to that which clouded it when I became a Confederate again.
+
+Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice just at
+the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and profound....
+What was Dr. Khayme in all this?
+
+And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I had
+carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must always have
+been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever get to be Berwick
+Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which was I at first? Had I
+ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt everything.
+
+My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first Manassas, or
+Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the Doctor; the return
+to Willis; the shore and the battle of the ships; the _Merrimac_; the
+line of the Warwick; the lines at Hanover; the night tramp in the
+swamp; crossing the hill; a blank, which my double memory knew how to
+fill, and the subsequent events of my second service in our army.
+Nothing important seemed lacking since the battle of Bull Run. Before
+that battle everything was confusion. My home was still unknown. The
+friends of my former life, so far as I could remember, had been
+Federals, if Dr. Khayme and Lydia could be called Federals.
+
+Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with that
+city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled: first, my
+life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my life at home
+and in the Confederate army before I pretended to desert to
+the Federals.
+
+I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity! Let reason
+work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can it mean any more
+than that you were known at one time as Jones Berwick and at another
+time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to think that you are two persons
+at once. Have you imagined that now, while you are a Confederate again,
+there is also a you in the Yankee army? When your connection with the
+Confederates was interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones
+Berwick; the J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you
+became a Confederate again, your name was reversed because of
+that diary!
+
+I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every word of
+the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.
+
+And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the little
+book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case I should be
+taken? Yes.
+
+But--I was going to become a Confederate again!
+
+Did the Doctor know that?
+
+Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the words he
+dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes; he helped me
+on with the Confederate uniform!
+
+Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was
+required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a Confederate?
+
+Could I not at once have named my original company and its officers? Why
+this child's play of the diary?
+
+I studied hard this phase of the tangle.
+
+Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the first
+party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable. I might
+have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and to
+detention--but for something on my person to give substance to my
+statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.
+
+But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say to a
+party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and especially at the
+thought which had caused it. I had actually forgotten, for the moment,
+that I was a real Confederate, and had begun to imagine that I had been
+a Federal trying to get into the Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor
+was helping to do so.
+
+But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a Confederate. If
+so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp? He, too, a spy? He and
+I were allies? Possibly.
+
+But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not think
+me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me to play the
+spy in the interest of the Federals.
+
+What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in the Union
+army.
+
+But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he would not
+fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God! what was it that
+he argued? And what in me was he arguing against? He had contended--I
+remember it--that the war would destroy slavery, and that was what he
+wanted to be done; and I had contended that the Union was pledged by the
+Constitution to protect slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation
+of the Union.
+
+A cold shudder came through me.
+
+In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my plan. I
+had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought gave little
+pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought him too wise to
+allow himself to be deceived.
+
+Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a course
+which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I became
+bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a tangle. I
+have not got to the bottom of this thing.
+
+Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a Confederate and
+my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy that I have deceived him
+with all his wisdom and all my reluctance to deceive him. Which of these
+two things is true?
+
+Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in some
+way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only that it was
+the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's army. I remember
+now the Doctor's telling me about movements that McClellan would make.
+These things happened in McClellan's army while I was a spy. To suppose
+that the Doctor was my ally comports with his giving me information of
+McClellan's movements. He was a surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate;
+he certainly was from Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But,
+on the other hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery,
+and his hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he
+could not have been a Confederate.
+
+Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I was in
+McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew that I was a
+spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy. How, then, could
+I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought me a Union spy, and
+that I was to go into the Confederate lines to get information, when the
+opposite was true.
+
+Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The Doctor was
+not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know that I was a
+Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.
+
+Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the second must
+be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that even Dr. Khayme
+had been deceived.
+
+Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my business
+was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I was open and
+frank. The second proposition, while possible, I reject, at least for
+a time.
+
+Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true? How
+absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is nothing false
+absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a question thoroughly, be
+not content with looking at two sides of it; look at three."
+
+Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a third
+alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a Confederate, is
+untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is untrue: what is a
+possible third?
+
+I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put myself in
+the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery notions and his
+invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he thinks, into the
+Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?
+
+Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show but that
+he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not do. Where is
+the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find it.
+
+What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I was a
+Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was opposed to
+war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in regard to the
+success of the Federals? No; he wished for the extinction of slavery.
+Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but he argued for a modification
+of slavery, and for gradual emancipation.
+
+Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would do
+violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for me to go
+back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or fewer does not
+count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of doing me good, knowing
+that he was doing the Union cause no harm.
+
+But would he not know that the information I should take to the
+Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously injuring
+his cause.
+
+Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that could not
+be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for me was too
+sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither would I
+have yielded.
+
+And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these suppositions. For
+the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and at the same time help
+me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on his part. I am forced to
+admit that he knew my true character and that I knew he knew me.
+
+But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!
+
+An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair, as he
+attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That look of
+relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that look of
+astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment preceding death,
+he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a Confederate!
+
+Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the Doctor
+have known me as such?
+
+Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than Willis
+ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides, I feel that
+Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know that Willis did not
+know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped me return to the
+Confederates.
+
+... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a rebel, he
+had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why? Why?
+
+I fear for my reason....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try another line.
+So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates the information
+gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not. My wound had caused
+me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to read the future? If he
+had such power, his course in regard to me could be understood. He knew
+that I should become unable to reveal anything to injure his cause,
+therefore he was willing to help me return to the Confederate army.
+There, at last, was a third alternative, but a bare possibility only.
+Was it even that?
+
+To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight, knew
+what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could read the
+future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could control the
+future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What are the limits? Had
+not the Doctor spoken to me of this very subject? He had reasoned
+against there being limits to the power of the mind ... notwithstanding
+my resistance to the thought I still think it; I am still thinking of
+the possibility that the Doctor controlled me, and caused me to lose the
+past in order that thus he might not be accessory to a betrayal of his
+own cause.
+
+This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how can I
+place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if there is a
+man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr. Khayme.
+
+But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing for me to
+suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I should endure
+mortification--and be without friends--and long hopeless of all
+good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not have been better for
+me to remain in the Union army? I could not see any reason for his
+subjecting me to so bitter an experience--but wait--did he not contend
+that every human being must go through an infinity of experience? That
+being true--or true to his thought--he might be just in causing me to
+endure what I have endured.
+
+Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run, seems clear
+if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has such superhuman
+power. Can I believe it?
+
+Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long till
+dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is stirring.
+My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the supernatural power
+of the Doctor.
+
+What would the possession of such power imply? To see future events and
+control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least. But the mind, is
+it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do marvellous things. That letter
+of my father's was a mystery.... What! My father!
+
+The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.
+
+I have a father? Who is my father?
+
+The thought brings me to my feet.
+
+I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front stretches
+the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises come from rear
+and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no doubt, for the
+march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there should I be also.
+Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was signed Jones Berwick,
+Sr. From what place was it written? I do not know. But I know that my
+father is the man in the tent where the Doctor attends me sick.
+
+I make a step forward.
+
+Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the line is
+moving back; we are ordered back!"
+
+I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.
+
+I understand.
+
+I am going to my father.
+
+A flood of recollection has poured upon me.
+
+I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.
+
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+REPARATION
+
+     "Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
+      And welcome home again discarded faith."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of it would
+have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was made by its
+all coming.
+
+I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my father. The
+Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover my country.
+
+At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to my name
+distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my duty to
+battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger and death. The
+glory of the Confederate victories would now bring me pain and not joy.
+Oh! the deepness of the woe!
+
+But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it complete. I
+must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous yet criminal--a
+past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a barbarous future. I
+should be with the Doctor; I should be myself, and always myself, for I
+knew that my mind should nevermore suffer a repetition of the mysterious
+affliction which had changed me. My malady had departed forever; and
+with this knowledge there had come upon the glimmering emotions of
+repressed passion the almost overpowering consciousness that there was a
+woman in the world.
+
+I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had gone; I
+would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going. I wept and
+laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was past and future. I
+was strong and well. With my healing had come a revolution of another
+kind--a physical change which I felt would make of me a different
+creature from the poor moody rebel in rags, or even the groping Yankee
+spy of the day and of the year before.
+
+How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted and true.
+No matter what should befall them, they would continue to be true and
+loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the blackest
+disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage and for
+fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may conquer them. Their
+soldierly honour will be maintained even when they go down in defeat, as
+they must; never will shame lay its touch upon their ways, no matter
+what their destiny. I honour them, more now since I know the might of
+their enemies; I love them; I am proud of their high deeds, but I am
+done with them. In my heart alone can I do them reverence. My hand must
+be against them, as it has been for them.
+
+Rätions? Rãtions! The Federals say _rãtions_! Why did I not follow that
+clew?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place to
+cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was lighting
+the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the well-known sounds of
+a moving army--an army which had been my pride and now must be my enemy.
+How often had I followed the red flag! How I had raised my voice in the
+tumult of the charge--mingling no dissentient note in the mighty concert
+of the fierce old rebel yell!
+
+What will they think of me? I know full well what they will think, and
+the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to beat. They will
+say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the Yankees; not at once will
+they say that, but in a week or two when hope of my return has been
+abandoned--and a few will say that Jones has lost his mind and has
+wandered off. The first--the unkind--will be right, and they will be
+wrong. The others--the generous--will be utterly wrong. I have not lost
+my mind; I have found it, and found it "for good." The report of my
+desertion will come to Adjutant Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will
+they tell? I hope not. Will they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I
+cannot hope it.
+
+Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones Berwick
+live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men live
+forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than death
+which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall never die. On
+through the ages! That bright star--almost the only one left in the
+graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it born!
+
+I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was up; I kept
+it on my right. What should I do and say when I should reach our men?
+Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to them quickly. The
+rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of infantry were seeking to
+fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or there would be a third Bull Run.
+
+But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid being
+captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will call for
+Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General Morell and to
+General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss of a day, half a
+day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to be falling back now.
+To retreat at once may save it--to delay means terrible disaster.
+
+I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do, to make
+the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy retreat of the
+army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its destruction, I shall be
+happy. I will even say that my service as a Confederate was a small
+price to pay ... what had the Doctor said? He had said that my infirmity
+was a power! He had said that he could imagine cases in which my
+peculiar affliction would give great opportunity for serving the
+country. What a mind that man has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he
+has had active part in what has befallen me.
+
+I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through wood and
+field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses and fields
+and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste, knowing or feeling
+that I shall find no help here. Here I shun nothing; here I seek
+nothing--beyond this region are the people I want. What can I say? what
+can I prove? This is the question that troubles me. If I say that I am a
+Union soldier, I must tell the whole truth, and that I cannot do;
+besides, it would not be believed. If I say I am a deserter, my
+declarations as to Lee's movement will not be taken without suspicion.
+What shall I do? If I could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal
+clothing; I might hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems
+impossible. I must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr.
+Khayme! But I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he
+is somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive? And
+Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long months!
+Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall find Lydia, but
+I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time; to seek the Doctor
+might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to the general
+headquarters.
+
+To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another. I hurry
+on. What do they mean by fighting down there?
+
+I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the fields or
+roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is bare. No smoke
+rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled; the roads are
+untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.
+
+I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints cover the
+road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout and weep for
+joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement. That is, if they
+go far enough west.
+
+Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does it
+mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that Lee is
+preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are only
+to deceive.
+
+On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road. Other
+cavalry may be coming or going.
+
+The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow it. I go
+straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the road beyond
+the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It looks like a man. It
+is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit I cock my rifle and hold
+it at the ready. I cannot see that he is armed. I go straight to him. He
+is lying on the ground, with his back toward me. He hears me. He rises
+to his feet. He is unarmed. He is greatly astonished, but is silent.
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I surrender," he says.
+
+"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body of your
+men."
+
+He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your game."
+
+He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the west, and
+goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to us?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then let me have the gun," he says.
+
+I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order to
+claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
+believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is not
+impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he wants to
+march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him back to the Union
+army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not give him the gun. But I
+will make him talk.
+
+"What do you want with the gun?"
+
+"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference," he says.
+
+He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and down
+hill, hardly changing direction.
+
+Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what made
+you quit?"
+
+"My mind changed," I say.
+
+He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
+wouldn't say that, if I was you."
+
+"Why not, since it is true?"
+
+"It will do you no good."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do as you
+please."
+
+He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the whole truth.
+
+I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them. Their
+leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done a good
+job. How did you happen to get him?"
+
+"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."
+
+"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have information
+of extreme importance to give him."
+
+"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if you
+please."
+
+"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must make a
+condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning slightly.
+
+"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send me to
+General Meade at once."
+
+"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."
+
+"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to count. If
+you object to it, however, I withdraw it."
+
+"Then, who are you?"
+
+"I decline to say."
+
+"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should like to
+know how I am to rely on what you tell."
+
+"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a horse, and
+send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me until I tell what
+I have to tell."
+
+"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and another
+for this man."
+
+Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You see, I
+am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served Thomas; now let
+him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"
+
+"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean your
+flank."
+
+"The devil you say! Infantry?"
+
+"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six divisions."
+
+"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me the
+truth?"
+
+"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
+countenance."
+
+"When did Ewell begin his march?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"When did Hill march?"
+
+"He began to move on the 8th."
+
+"Where was he before that date?"
+
+"In camp near Orange Court-House."
+
+"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"
+
+"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."
+
+"Which division is yours?"
+
+"Please withdraw that question."
+
+"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night of the
+8th?"
+
+"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."
+
+"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"
+
+"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."
+
+"Where on the 10th?"
+
+"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."
+
+"And where on the 11th?"
+
+"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a few miles
+from Jeffersonton."
+
+"And where was Ewell's corps?"
+
+"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed Hill's
+yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Going up?"
+
+"No, sir; it went toward our right."
+
+"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"Who commands them?"
+
+"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."
+
+"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"
+
+"It began to move up the river at daybreak."
+
+"Is that all you have of importance?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger. General
+Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with Jackson's march last
+year around General Pope." I say this very earnestly, and continue: "You
+ought to know that I am telling you the truth. A man coming into your
+lines and ordering an unarmed man to take him to you, ought to be
+believed."
+
+"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
+impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
+life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
+nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of prepossessing. The
+homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than I am. The strain to
+which I have been subjected for days and weeks, and especially for the
+last forty-eight hours, must be telling fearfully upon me. Uncouth,
+dirty, ragged, starved, weak through fever and strong through unnatural
+excitement, there can be no wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He
+may suspect that such a creature is seeking the presence of General
+Meade in order to assassinate him.
+
+"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other weapons. Bind
+my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this horse's belly. All I
+ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I am not wretchedly
+mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch for me."
+
+"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
+gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for your
+life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."
+
+He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.
+
+"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling the
+truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived in some
+way. Good luck to you."
+
+He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.
+
+I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine, and his
+holsters were not empty.
+
+"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.
+
+We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are nearing the
+river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad trains, directly in
+front but far away.
+
+The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my horse's
+sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do not stop. I
+say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and storms, but
+keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound to my side, and
+I feel his hand on my collar.
+
+"Are you crazy?" he shouts.
+
+I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a suspicion
+may ruin my plan.
+
+After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the camps.
+We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.
+
+At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide, giving him
+the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard, before the
+general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers and orderlies.
+The aide approached the general, who turned and looked at me. The
+general held the note in his hand.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked."
+
+"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.
+
+"What brigade?"
+
+"McGowan's."
+
+"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"
+
+"South Carolina."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"Wilcox's."
+
+"How many brigades are in that division?"
+
+"Four, General."
+
+"Name them."
+
+"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."
+
+"From what states?"
+
+"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade is from
+Georgia."
+
+"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"
+
+"This morning, sir, before daylight"
+
+"You say that a movement was in progress?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What?"
+
+"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."
+
+"Up what river?"
+
+"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."
+
+"You say the army? General Lee's army?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to Georgia."
+
+"Did you see the other troops?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."
+
+"Did you see both corps?"
+
+"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in the
+afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours passing."
+
+The officers standing about were attentive, even serious. General
+Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.
+
+"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"
+
+"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there are some
+officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if they
+were here."
+
+"Who are they?"
+
+"General Morell is one, sir."
+
+All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I saw one of
+them tap his forehead.
+
+"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.
+
+"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."
+
+"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without evasion.
+What are you to General Morell?"
+
+"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that he
+would know me and believe me."
+
+"What are you to General Grover?"
+
+"He knew me, General"
+
+"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now with this
+army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent witnesses."
+
+"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me out."
+
+"General Porter is no longer in this army."
+
+"Then General Butterfield."
+
+"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."
+
+I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling for Dr.
+Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise. What had become
+of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who by bare possibility
+might have heard of me through General Morell, was, as I knew very well,
+far from this army. Certainly the war had been hard on the general
+officers of this Army of the Potomac. I would risk one more name.
+
+"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."
+
+"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"
+
+"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."
+
+General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head slightly.
+
+"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going to ask
+you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to answer quickly
+and without many words. How do you happen to know that the colonel of
+the Eleventh Massachusetts is named Blaisdell?"
+
+I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade alone, I
+should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea again came that
+he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to answer quickly, so I
+said, "I had friends in that regiment, General."
+
+The officers had gathered around their commander as close as etiquette
+allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of them very
+serious--others with sneers."
+
+"Name one of your friends."
+
+"John Lawler, sir."
+
+"What company?"
+
+"Company D."
+
+An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.
+
+"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know General Grover
+and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did General Grover command?
+Where was it that you knew him?"
+
+"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
+information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
+would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
+Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"
+
+"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a look.
+
+"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.
+
+A second orderly was sent off.
+
+All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to question me.
+I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the general, and a
+plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor appeared.
+
+"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"
+
+"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the Doctor
+quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful self-control
+would not even now desert him.
+
+"How do you know they were still moving?"
+
+"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the movement,
+sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on his conduct
+depended my peace for the future. If he should betray me, I should
+henceforth be a living curiosity.
+
+"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.
+
+The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how to
+answer. I was silent.
+
+"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"
+
+"Start where, General?"
+
+"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was moving? If
+you intended to be of service to us, why did you delay?"
+
+Here was an opening.
+
+"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday, General;
+besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of the nature of
+General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could give the Doctor some
+signal before he should speak--before he should recognize me. I was
+determined to prevent his exposing me, no matter at what personal risk.
+
+"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.
+
+"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me, General. But
+that was only additional to the circumstances of position and direction
+of march."
+
+"The men? What do the men know of such things?"
+
+"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the country, from
+having marched over it many times. They were in the August campaign of
+last year; they said that the present movement could mean nothing except
+a repetition of General Jackson's flank march of last year."
+
+The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon me. The
+officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances one
+at another.
+
+"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"
+
+"I was in Jackson's corps, General."
+
+"Did you make the march under him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of last
+year?"
+
+"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General Jackson's corps
+at the very place where I left Hill's corps this morning. On August 25th
+last year General Jackson crossed the Hedgeman River on his flank march.
+Hill's corps this morning began to move toward the crossing of
+the river."
+
+"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"
+
+"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."
+
+"Do you know him when you see him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"
+
+"Yes, sir--many times."
+
+"Have you seen General Ewell?"
+
+"I would not know General Ewell, sir."
+
+"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"
+
+"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Yesterday, General."
+
+"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"
+
+"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it took many
+hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different brigades told us
+they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it, General."
+
+The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were for the
+purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without change of
+substance.
+
+The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
+reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General Meade.
+Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.
+
+The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade, "General,
+I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to meet him, if
+but a few yards."
+
+The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.
+
+I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or no!"
+
+General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.
+
+The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.
+
+Intense gravity was all over him.
+
+General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and shook his
+head; "I obey orders, General," he said.
+
+"Then reply," said the general.
+
+"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose,
+however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head.
+Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a huddle.
+
+"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.
+
+"Do you vouch for him?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"He brings information of great import, if true; there is immense danger
+in accepting it, if false."
+
+"I will answer for him with my life, General."
+
+"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And he will
+tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"
+
+"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."
+
+"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very
+reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.
+
+"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may confide in
+the general. You see, General, there is a private matter in which my
+friend here is greatly interested, and which he does not want
+everybody to hear."
+
+"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is bringing
+me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the general; "now
+speak up and convince me, and be quick."
+
+"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I am a
+regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."
+
+"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so long to
+tell it?"
+
+He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending despatches
+like the woods afire.
+
+
+
+XL
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+     "And all that was death
+     Grows life, grows love,
+     Grows love."--BROWNING.
+
+The Doctor held my hand.
+
+Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub rose;
+clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and
+south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.
+
+But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were three
+corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick, Sykes, and
+Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the morning of this
+day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until these troops should
+succeed in recrossing to the north side of the river, a strong force
+must hold the bridges.
+
+Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this was the
+first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.
+
+Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and eastward on
+every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his eyes and sobs in
+his voice. I had never seen him thus.
+
+We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and the
+wagons ready to move.
+
+"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.
+
+He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not see; all
+its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain, remained
+there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and came back
+to me.
+
+"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.
+
+I got in.
+
+By my side was a woman ... weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the horizon.
+In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P. Hill; in the
+south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.
+
+The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to the
+darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, there sat,
+apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, a group
+of three.
+
+One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at least a
+sage, at least a hero.
+
+One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.
+
+One was a common soldier.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+***** This file should be named 12229-8.txt or 12229-8.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/2/12229/
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year. For example:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL
+
+
diff --git a/old/12229-8.zip b/old/12229-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..51f935b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-8.zip
diff --git a/old/12229-h.zip b/old/12229-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b22cf07
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h.zip
diff --git a/old/12229-h/12229-h.htm b/old/12229-h/12229-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..2e3ae3c
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h/12229-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,16395 @@
+<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta name="generator" content=
+"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org">
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content=
+"text/html; charset=us-ascii">
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Robinson Crusoe, by Johann
+Daniel DeFoe.</title>
+
+<style type="text/css">
+    <!--
+    P {  margin-top: .75em;
+         margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+         font-size: 14pt;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em; }
+    blockquote {text-align: justify;
+         margin-left: 15%;
+         margin-right: 15%;}
+    .ctr { TEXT-ALIGN: center }
+    IMG {
+         BORDER-RIGHT: 0px;
+         BORDER-TOP: 0px;
+         BORDER-LEFT: 0px;
+         BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px }
+    H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 {     text-align: center; }
+    HR { width: 33%; }
+    // -->
+</style>
+</head>
+<body>
+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Who Goes There?
+
+Author: Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2004 [EBook #12229]
+[Last updated. June 20, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<br>
+<h1>WHO GOES THERE?</h1>
+<br>
+<h2>THE STORY OF A SPY</h2>
+<h4>IN</h4>
+<h2>THE CIVIL WAR</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h3>B.K. BENSON</h3>
+<br>
+<h5>1900</h5>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CONTENTS</h2>
+<br>
+<center><a href="#INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION.</a><br>
+<a href="#I">I. THE ADVANCE.</a><br>
+<a href="#II">II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.</a><br>
+<a href="#III">III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#IV">IV. A PERSONAGE.</a><br>
+<a href="#V">V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.</a><br>
+<a href="#VI">VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.</a><br>
+<a href="#VII">VII. A SECOND DISASTER.</a><br>
+<a href="#VIII">VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.</a><br>
+<a href="#IX">IX. KILLING TIME.</a><br>
+<a href="#X">X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.</a><br>
+<a href="#XI">XI. FORT WILLIS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XII">XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIII">XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XIV">XIV. OUT OF SORTS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XV">XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVI">XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVII">XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.</a><br>
+<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.</a><br>
+<a href="#XIX">XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XX">XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXI">XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXII">XXII. COMPANY H.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIII">XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIV">XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXV">XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVI">XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVII">XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXIX">XXIX. FOREBODINGS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXX">XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXI">XXXI. GLOOM.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXII">XXXII. NIGHT.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIII">XXXIII. HELL.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIV">XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXV">XXXV. AWAKENINGS.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVI">XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVII. A DOUBLE.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVIII. IDENTITY.</a><br>
+<a href="#XXXIX">XXXIX. REPARATION.</a><br>
+<a href="#XL">XL. CONCLUSION.</a></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>MAPS</h2>
+<center><a href="#033.png">1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS
+MUSKET.</a><br>
+<a href="#186.png">2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.</a><br>
+<a href="#326.png">3. VIRGINIA.</a><br>
+<a href="#367.png">4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN
+MUSKET.</a></center>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2>
+<center>"I'll note you in my book of
+memory."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I
+say malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition
+had never been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my
+father's opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five
+years old, to lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory
+entirely, but my ability to recall the events and the mental
+impressions of a recent period. The physicians had agreed that the
+trouble would pass away, but it had been repeated more than once.
+At the age of ten, when occurred the first attack which I remember,
+I was at school in my native New England village. One very cold day
+I was running home after school, when my foot slipped on a frozen
+pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great pain, and was
+almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I saw around
+me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast table
+to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too heavy,
+with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly
+changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took
+me home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions
+which I could not understand.</p>
+<p>Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He
+inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher,
+about the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me,
+and I answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an
+interval of more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried
+to learn whether there remained in my mind any effect of my studies
+during the past term. The result was surprising. He found that as
+to actual knowledge my mind retained the power developed by its
+exercise,--without, however, holding all details of fact,--but
+that, in everything not positive, my experience seemed to have been
+utterly lost. I knew my multiplication table thoroughly; I had
+acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I could write correctly,
+and my ability to read was not lessened. But when questions
+concerning historical events, either general or local, were asked,
+my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned for
+the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on
+the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and
+against the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on
+the previous day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy
+boy.</p>
+<p>Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last
+period of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images,
+while the time preceding that period was as nothing to me. My
+little sister had died when I was six years old; I did not know
+that she had ever lived; her name, even, was strange to me.</p>
+<p>After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my
+own opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was
+not, however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the
+doctors' deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to
+take me to the South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the
+fact that my father had landed interests in South Carolina. At any
+rate, my father soon took me to Charleston, where I was again put
+to school. Doubtless I was thus relieved of much annoyance, as my
+new schoolmates received me without showing the curiosity which
+would have irritated me in my own village.</p>
+<p>More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned
+to me. The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a
+group of boys were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto
+regiment had distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say,
+"Yes, your Uncle Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best
+in the army." I felt a glow of pride at this praise of my
+people--as I supposed it to be. More talk followed, however, in
+which it became clear that the boys were not speaking of Franklin
+Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was greatly puzzled.</p>
+<p>A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M.
+Butler, the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had
+fallen on the field of Churubusco.</p>
+<p>Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been
+disturbed by this event, but I know that from this time I began to
+collect, vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life;
+so that, when my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had
+entirely recovered my lost memory. I even knew everything that had
+happened in the recent interval, so that my consciousness held an
+uninterrupted chain of all past events of importance. And now I
+realized with wonder one of the marvellous compensations of nature.
+My brain reproduced form, size, colour--any quality of a material
+thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly that the actual object seemed
+present to my senses, while I could feel dimly, what I now know
+more thoroughly, that my memory during the interval had operated
+weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so called--questions of
+doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which there might well be
+more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind. Although I have
+truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind began its
+recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first step
+was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some
+difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto
+regiment acquired the greater glory.</p>
+<p>My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my
+summers were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became
+dissatisfied with my progress, and decided that I should return to
+the South for the winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no
+recurrence of my mental peculiarity he would thereafter put me in
+the hands of a private tutor who should prepare me for college.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health
+was sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and
+gained a reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert
+especially in climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were,
+nevertheless, considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that
+the anxiety shown by my father for my health influenced me
+somewhat; moreover, I had a natural bent toward bodily rather than
+mental exercise.</p>
+<p>The feature most attractive to me in school work was the
+debating class. As a sort of <i>ex-officio</i> president of this
+club, was one of our tutors, whom none of the boys seemed greatly
+to like. He was called Professor Khayme--pronounced Ki-me.
+Sometimes the principal addressed him as Doctor. He certainly was a
+very learned and intelligent man; for although the boys had him in
+dislike, there were yet many evidences of the respect he commanded
+from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed, at various times, of
+different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty and fifty. He
+was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall, and was
+exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his
+countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed
+always complete self-control, if not indifference. He was
+dark--almost as dark as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the
+breadth and height of his forehead were almost a deformity. He had
+no beard, and yet I feel sure that he never used a razor. I rarely
+saw him off duty without a peculiar black pipe in his mouth, which
+he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the smoke at very long
+intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent schoolmates
+that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through his
+skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated
+the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.</p>
+<p>Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to
+which were admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my
+dying day I shall remember one of these occasions. The debate, so
+celebrated, between the great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster
+was the feature of the entertainment. Behind the curtain sat
+Professor Khayme, prompter and general manager. A boy with mighty
+lungs and violent gesticulation recited an abridgment of Hayne's
+speech, beginning:--</p>
+<br>
+<blockquote>"If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and
+I say it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison
+with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating
+devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina."</blockquote>
+<p>Great applause followed. These were times of sectional
+compromise. I also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting
+influence of Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for
+harmony between the sections. The majority of thinking people
+considered true patriotism to concist in patience and charity each
+to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but
+few Southerners had read it or would read it. I also applauded.</p>
+<p>Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced
+that the next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to
+Hayne,' to be recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master
+Jones Berwick."</p>
+<p>I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me
+that I was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt
+an impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the
+boys all over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped
+loudly. Then the professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and
+his voice was by far his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master
+Berwick had not been originally selected to recite, but that the
+young orator chosen the duty had been called away unexpectedly, and
+that it was well known that Master Berwick, being a compatriot of
+the great Webster, and being not only thoroughly competent to
+declaim the abridged form of the speech in question, but also in
+politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator, could serve with
+facility in the stead of the absentee, and would certainly sustain
+the reputation of the club.</p>
+<p>How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I
+know not what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech
+recited, but not recently, and I could not see my way through.</p>
+<p>I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said
+to me, in a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I
+pledge you my word as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to
+this light." Then he seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few
+soft finger-touches, and I remembered no more until I found myself
+on the rostrum listening to a perfect din of applause that covered
+the close of my speech. If there were any fire-eaters in the
+audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an knew how to be polite,
+even to a fault.</p>
+<p>I could not understand my success: I had vague inward
+inclination that it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have
+departed for the time. I felt that some wonderful change had been
+wrought in me, and, youngster though I was, I was amazed to think
+what might be the possibilities of the mind.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor
+Khayme, but as he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as
+oratory, it was impossible that we should not meet. In class he was
+reserved and confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone
+or look varying his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though
+his outward gravity and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that
+he influenced me by a power which no other man exerted over me.</p>
+<p>One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just
+crossed Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder,
+and, turning, I saw Doctor Khayme.</p>
+<p>"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have
+from your father a letter in relation to your health. He says that
+he is uneasy about you."</p>
+<p>"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason
+to be worried."</p>
+<p>"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the
+Doctor.</p>
+<p>Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I
+am glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do <i>you</i> think
+I am wrong in health?"</p>
+<p>"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for
+you to see the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany
+me to my lodging, I will show it to you."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of
+the side streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines
+clambered over the porch and were trained so that they almost hid
+the windows. An old woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and
+everything that a general servant may be, opened to his knock.</p>
+<p>"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to
+my thought.</p>
+<p>I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The
+windows looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front
+of the grate, where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For
+the rest, there was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old
+bookcase in a corner seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes
+in antique covers, A writing-table, littered and piled with papers,
+was in the middle of the room, and there were a few easy-chairs,
+into one of which the Doctor motioned me.</p>
+<p>Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took
+
+down a pipe with a long stem,
+and began to stuff the bowl with tobacco which I saw was very
+black; while he was doing so, I recognized on the pipe the carven
+image of an idol.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."</p>
+<p>I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he
+meant.</p>
+<p>He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and
+handed it to me. I read:--</p>
+<blockquote>"MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to
+you. My son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great
+uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above the
+average--you will have already discovered this; but I wish to say
+that his mind has passed through strange experiences and that
+possibly he must--though God forbid--go through more of such. A
+friend of mine has convinced me that you can help my boy.<br>
+<br>
+Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."</blockquote>
+<p>When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was
+strange, especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor
+and offered the letter to him.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."</p>
+<p>I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat
+with the amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes
+were turned from me.</p>
+<p>He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning
+toward me, and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said
+very slowly, "I do not think it advisable to ask you to tell me
+what the mental experiences are to which your father alludes; it
+may be best that you should not speak of them; it may be best that
+you should not think of them. I am sure that I can help you; I am
+sure that your telling me your history could not cause me to help
+you more."</p>
+<p>I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and
+sweet. I could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed
+fixed on me, but I felt that he was looking through me at something
+beyond.</p>
+<p>Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your
+will. I can help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have
+great will-power also, but you have not cultivated that power. This
+is a critical time in your life. You are becoming a man. You must
+use your will. I can help you by making you see that you <i>can</i>
+use your will, and that the will is very powerful--that <i>your</i>
+will is very powerful. He who has confidence in his own will-power
+will exert it. I can help you to have confidence. But I cannot
+exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I shall
+give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little your
+present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
+doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and
+against to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty
+in choosing for or against. You are just in that condition. You
+have feared and mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are
+leaving you, and curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not
+bid you to make an effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to
+determine now whether you will struggle against weakness or submit
+to it; whether you will begin to use your sleeping will-power or
+else continue to accept what comes."</p>
+<p>I rose to my feet at once.</p>
+<p>"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first
+smile I had ever seen on his face.</p>
+<p>"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually
+learned more and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter
+told me much, that I could never have guessed. She was a very
+serious child, perhaps of eleven years, and not very attractive. In
+fact, she was ugly, but her gravity seemed somehow to suit her so
+well that I could by no means dislike her. Her father was very fond
+of her; of an evening the three of us would sit in the west room;
+the Doctor would smoke and read; I would read some special
+matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my tutor; Lydia would
+sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and absorbed
+seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some words
+which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the
+seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the
+natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way.
+I was not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of
+the household, and never thought of asking for information that
+seemed withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when
+the Doctor would be absent from the room, that they were
+foreigners,--a fact which. I had already taken for granted,--but I
+was never made to know the land of their birth. It was certain that
+Dr. Khayme could speak German and French, and I could frequently
+see him reading in books printed in characters unknown to me.
+Several times I have happened to come unexpectedly into the
+presence of the father and daughter when they were conversing in a
+tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor had no
+companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from
+the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at
+the cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from
+remarks dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she
+had, that her studies were the languages in the main, and I had
+strong evidence that, young as she was, her proficiency in French
+and German far exceeded my own acquirements.</p>
+<p>By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in
+what we would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for
+the experience I am now writing down embraces the winters of five
+or six years. Most of the books that composed his library were
+abstruse treatises on metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I
+believe that in his collection could have been found the Bible of
+every religious faith. Sometimes he would read aloud a passage in
+the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a manuscript copy interleaved
+with annotations in his own delicate handwriting.</p>
+<p>He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested
+in the political condition of every civilized nation. The future of
+the human race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much
+thought. I have heard him more than once declare, with emphasis,
+that the outlook for the advancement of America was not auspicious.
+In regard to the sectional discord in the United States, he showed
+a strange unconcern. I knew that he believed it a matter of
+indifference whether secession, of which we were beginning again to
+hear some mutterings, was a constitutional right; but on the
+question of slavery his interest was intense. He believed that
+slavery could not endure, let secession be attempted or abandoned,
+let secession fail or succeed.</p>
+<p>In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had
+interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the
+intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much
+reason to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my
+father about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long
+time, in fact, the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when
+it did come I decided that, since my father had not mentioned the
+matter, it was not for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.</p>
+<p>My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my
+life in the South had given way to his fears, and that I was to
+continue to spend my winters in Charleston. In after years I
+learned that Dr. Khayme had not thought my condition exempt from
+danger.</p>
+<p>So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57,
+without recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my
+father and the physicians agreed that my migrations should cease,
+and I entered college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I
+expressed great regret on account of our separation, but I received
+no reply.</p>
+<p>On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly,
+even without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered
+lapse of memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable
+exactness, all the time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr.
+Khayme.</p>
+<p>Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was
+induced to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that
+had happened since the last day I spent there, and he was,
+moreover, very anxious to meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our
+arrival in Charleston, however, that the Doctor and his daughter
+had sailed for Liverpool early in September. My father and I
+travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my memory was
+completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts, leaving me
+in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until August,
+1860.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on
+Sumter, was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire
+to enter the army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he
+doubted the effect of military life upon my mental nature. Our
+family physician, however, was upon my side, and contended, with
+what good reason I did not know, that the active life of war would
+be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so my father ceased to
+oppose, and I enlisted.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>WHO GOES THERE?</h2>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2>
+<h3>THE ADVANCE</h3>
+<center>"Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst
+arm."--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It
+was July 16, 1861.</p>
+<p>The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."</p>
+<p>I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
+understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
+orders, except two things:--</p>
+<p>First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.</p>
+<p>Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun
+burnt our faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down
+hill, up hill and down hill, we marched for an hour, west and
+southwest.</p>
+<p>We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens.
+The city could no longer he seen.</p>
+<p>Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired
+sergeant--a favourite with the men.</p>
+<p>I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.</p>
+<p>"Miles's division," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"What is on our left?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+<p>"We are the left," says Willis.</p>
+<p>The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible
+views.</p>
+<p>The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short
+sword saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the
+colonel at the head of the regiment. The captain returned to his
+post:--</p>
+<p>"<i>Comp-a-ny</i>--B ... ATTENTION!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p>
+<p>"LOAD!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>R-i-i-i-i-ght</i> ... FACE!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Fah</i>--<i>w-u-u-u-d</i> ... MOTCH!" ...</p>
+<p>"<i>Fi--lef</i> ... MOTCH!"</p>
+<p>Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.</p>
+<p>The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.</p>
+<p>Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I
+could see some black spots in a stubble-field.</p>
+<p>"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Any rebels out that way?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.</p>
+<p>Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few
+miles had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from
+four to four; great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by
+our columns advancing on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the
+sun directly in our faces. This little peaked infantry cap is a
+damnable outrage. The straps across my shoulders seemed to cut my
+flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My canteen was soon dry.
+The men were no longer erect as on dress parade. Each one bent
+over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no heavy
+cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was
+using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the
+sergeants. My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.</p>
+<p>Another halt; a new detail for water.</p>
+<p>The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the
+darkness. A hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a
+mile and a halt of half an hour; an exasperating march. At two
+o'clock in the morning we were permitted to break ranks. I was too
+tired to sleep. Where we were I knew not, and I know not--somewhere
+in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis, who was near me, lying on his
+blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow, said that we were the left
+of McDowell's army; that the centre and right extended for miles;
+that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax Court-House at
+this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he would wake
+up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Before the light we were aroused by the reveill&eacute;.</p>
+<p>The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for
+many hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward
+to relieve the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred
+yards of a feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost
+parallel with our skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but
+trees. Beyond the stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men
+of the company were in position, but at ease. The division was half
+a mile in our rear.</p>
+<p>I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the
+blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to
+think of my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few
+yards away; he was in the act of lighting his pipe.</p>
+<p>"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.</p>
+<p>"What's what?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"</p>
+<p>At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a
+low rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again
+the distant cannon was heard.</p>
+<p>About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from
+Washington were in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war
+correspondent had outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the
+campaign. Basing his prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he
+knew something of the nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the
+public was informed that Heintzelman's division would swing far to
+the left until the rear of Beauregard's right flank was reached; at
+the same time Miles and Hunter would seize Fairfax Court-House, and
+threaten the enemy's centre and left, and would seriously attack
+when Heintzelman should give the signal. Thus, rolled up from the
+right, and engaged everywhere else, the enemy's defeat was
+inevitable.</p>
+<p>The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a
+little when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was
+beginning to be afraid that his plans were endangered.</p>
+<p>"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax
+Court-House," said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means
+that our troops have been delayed. Beauregard is awake."</p>
+<p>Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was
+my first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We
+readied a spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be
+seen. He was facing us, instead of his front. The poor
+fellow--Johnson, of our company--had, been on post for two mortal
+hours, and was more concerned about the relief in his rear than
+about the enemy that might not be in his front. The sergeant halted
+within a few paces of the vedette, while I received instructions. I
+was to ascertain from the sentinel any peculiarity of his post and
+the general condition, existing in his front, and then, dismiss him
+to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could tell me nothing. He had
+seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and I was alone.</p>
+<p>The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to
+enable one to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was
+invisible. Night was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A
+thousand insects were cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed
+concert welcomed the twilight. A gentle breeze swayed the branches
+of the tree above me. Far away--to right or left, I know not--a
+cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The wind died away.</p>
+<p>I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.</p>
+<p>I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the
+first time the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but
+natural to be nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided
+that I was not nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in
+the swamp sounded but familiar and appropriate.</p>
+<p>That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was
+certain unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of
+wars and battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I
+wondered whether the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew
+they would fight; I had lived among those misguided people.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2>
+<h3>A SHAMEFUL DAY</h3>
+<center>'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs
+betimes."--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>"<i>Fall in, men! Fall in Company D</i>!"</p>
+<p>It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.</p>
+<p>We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a
+constant state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed
+reconnaissance on Bull Run had brought more than our generals had
+counted on; we had heard the combat, but had taken no part in it.
+Now the attack by the left had been abandoned.</p>
+<p>The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying
+to get rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations
+in our haversacks.</p>
+<p>At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road
+for Centreville.</p>
+<p>Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody
+took the trouble to assent or deny.</p>
+<p>At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay
+down--in the road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet
+and moved about impatiently.</p>
+<p>An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and
+we must wait till the way was clear.</p>
+<p>Little noise was made by the column marching on the road
+intersecting ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in
+general the men were silent, going forward with rapid strides, or
+standing stock still when brought to an abrupt halt whenever the
+head of the column struck an obstacle.</p>
+<p>I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was
+nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two
+hours high.</p>
+<p>Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the
+dust. In ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no
+command, except the everlasting "Close up! close up!"</p>
+<p>Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a
+neighbourhood road; ... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so
+much dust now, but the sun getting hotter and hotter, and hotter
+and hotter getting our thirst.</p>
+<p>And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!</p>
+<p>Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear
+it? The cannon roar in the valley below us.</p>
+<p>Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
+ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at
+double-quick; the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our
+front.</p>
+<p>What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and
+fire.</p>
+<p>See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red
+blood streams from his head!</p>
+<p>What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the
+hill. Why should they die?</p>
+<p>Ah, me! ah, me!</p>
+<p>The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander
+rides to its front:</p>
+<p>
+"<i>Colour</i>--<i>bearer</i>--<i>twelve</i>--<i>paces</i>--<i>to
+the front</i>--MARCH!
+<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>pre-sent</i>--ARMS!"</p>
+<p>Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and
+cries, DIES BY IT!</p>
+<p>A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces
+are white as death.</p>
+<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>fix</i>--BAYONETS!</p>
+<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--<i>guide centre</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt
+and re-form.</p>
+<p>We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly
+with a dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique
+is a battery; ... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and
+the horses and the men; they load and fire, load and fire.</p>
+<p>A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls
+... rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.</p>
+<p>Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air?
+Thop! Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his
+height is lost.</p>
+<p>And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the
+battery has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long
+line of men come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns.
+The men of the battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the
+captured pieces.</p>
+<p>Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise
+and look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no
+music, no drum ... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel
+behind the centre, dismounted,--the men march on; quick time,
+right-shoulder-shift; the fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the
+regiment always marching on. The rebels at the battery are not in
+line; some try to drag away the guns; swords flash in the hot sun;
+... the rebels re-form; ... they lie down; ... and now the regiment
+is at double-quick with trailed arms; ... the rebel line rises and
+delivers its fire.</p>
+<p>The smoke swallows everything.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold
+the battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing
+rebels; and now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the
+regiment in disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and
+rushes for the battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give
+way ... they run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ...
+and the cavalry ride from, the woods, and ride straight through our
+flying men and strike ... and many of the fugitives fire upon the
+horsemen, who in turn flee for their lives.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is
+smoke. Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows;
+crowds of wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ...
+the men madly lash the horses.</p>
+<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.</p>
+<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ...
+but we are moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks
+are thinning; elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a
+horrid impatience seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons
+... faster, faster ... I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my
+face--"<i>Surrender, you damned Yankee!</i>"</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="III"></a>III</h2>
+<h3>I BREAK MY MUSKET</h3>
+<center>"And, spite of spite, needs must I rest
+awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly
+mob ... I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.</p>
+<p>The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men
+had run beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each
+one for himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and
+brigades were intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to
+pursue us, many thousands of our men would have fallen into their
+hands.</p>
+<p>In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
+exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop
+and rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing
+in our rear had ceased.</p>
+<p>A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where
+is the company?"</p>
+<p>"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as
+quick as you can."</p>
+<p>"Tell me who is hurt," said I.</p>
+<p>But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to
+remain where I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as
+to my will, and by great effort resolved to rise and run.</p>
+<p>At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I
+heard my name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his
+hand, and heard him call me again. I went toward him. It was
+Willis; he was limping; his hat was gone; everything was gone; in
+fact, he was hardly able to march.</p>
+<p>"Where are you hit?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"The knee," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Bad?"</p>
+<p>"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain
+me as it did awhile ago."</p>
+<p>"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for
+men worse off than I am."</p>
+<p>Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some
+order, but the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken
+it into their heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us
+were packed between the high banks of the roadway which went down
+toward the creek. I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing
+since five o'clock in the morning.</p>
+<p>"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let
+the crowd scatter before we go on."</p>
+<p>"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow
+a mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any
+water in your canteen?"</p>
+<p>"Not a drop," said I.</p>
+<p>Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the
+troops at this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the
+hill, where the road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater
+space; some of them followed their leaders straight ahead on the
+road; others went to the right and left, seeking to avoid the
+crowd.</p>
+<p>"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.</p>
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+<p>"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."</p>
+<p>"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and
+I can stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."</p>
+<p>He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely
+too, although, at every step he groaned with pain.</p>
+<p>I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just
+a little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will
+was good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He
+was a strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a
+bullock. So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to
+a wounded comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him,
+especially since he showed such determination to save himself.
+Besides, I knew that he was quick-witted and country-bred; and I
+had great hope that he would prove more of a help than a
+hindrance.</p>
+<p>We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now
+running up the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow,
+but the banks were high, and in most places steep. Men were
+crossing at almost all points. Slowly following the hurrying groups
+of twos and threes who had outstripped us, we found at length, a
+place that seemed fordable for Willis. It was where a small branch
+emptied into the creek; and by getting into the branch, above its
+mouth, and following its course, we should be able to cross the
+creek.</p>
+<p>"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have
+muddied the branch; it's as bad as the creek."</p>
+<p>"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "it would make us sick."</p>
+<p>"But what else can we do?"</p>
+<p>"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.</p>
+<p>All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
+shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I
+hoped that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good
+than harm--that time would be saved, in effect.</p>
+<p>A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the
+water clear. I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it,
+and food. Willis lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled
+my canteen; I handed it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and
+drank.</p>
+<p>The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we
+might have remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant
+poplar had been uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall
+an opening in, the undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook,
+and the boughs, intermingling with the copse, made a complete
+hiding-place.</p>
+<p>I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at
+our backs and completely screened from view.</p>
+<p>Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the
+canteen again, and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much
+swollen; just under the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this
+I washed away, using all the gentle care at my command, but giving
+him, nevertheless, great pain. A small round hole was now sean, and
+by gently pressing on its walls, I thought I detected the presence
+of the ball.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more
+than half an inch, deep."</p>
+<p>"Then pull it out," said Willis,</p>
+<p>That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on
+his back, eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my
+mouth with hardtack and pork.</p>
+<p>I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an
+obstacle was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so
+small that I conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot,
+the rebels using, as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded
+with buck-and-ball cartridges.</p>
+<p>"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job;
+suppose I get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for
+you? Maybe you'd lose too much blood."</p>
+<p>"I want it out," said Willis.</p>
+<p>"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no
+good. Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my
+business is to let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."</p>
+<p>"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."</p>
+<p>The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.</p>
+<p>"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything
+of that kind."</p>
+<p>"You refuse?"</p>
+<p>"I positively refuse," said I.</p>
+<p>We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low
+rumbling was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon
+train.</p>
+<p>Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and
+kneaded some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my
+shirt, and tore it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened
+out, I applied a handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I
+wrapped the cloths around the knee, at every fold smearing the
+bandage with clay. I hardly knew why I did this, unless with the
+purpose of keeping the knee-joint from bending; when the clay
+should become dry and hard the joint would be incased in a stiff
+setting which I hoped would serve for splints. Willis approved the
+treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains, and might be good
+for wounds.</p>
+<p>I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could
+hardly move.</p>
+<p>"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."</p>
+<p>He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft
+earth; after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better
+without it." Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his
+weight.</p>
+<p>I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the
+stock of which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters
+J. B. I broke the stock with one blow of the barrel against the
+poplar log.</p>
+<p>I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our
+way through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our
+knees and seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the
+further bank was achieved, but with great difficulty.</p>
+<a name="033.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/033.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<b>BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861.</b></p>
+<p>We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling.
+We saw no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much
+and painful toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day
+showed us a small field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his
+blanched face showing his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.</p>
+<p>It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more,
+and I decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the
+field I had seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them.
+At the bottom of the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The
+work took but a minute. Willis was looking on dully; he was on the
+bare ground, utterly done for with pain and weariness. At length,
+he asked, "What's that for?"</p>
+<p>"For you," I replied.</p>
+<p>He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at
+the same time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and
+pulled the overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually
+to conceal him from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and
+haversack and placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my
+throat, I bade him good-by.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "God bless you."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to
+return and get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get
+help, I will come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow
+you do not see me, you must act for the best. It may become
+necessary for you to show yourself and surrender, in order to get
+your wound properly treated; all this country will be ransacked by
+the rebel cavalry before to-morrow night."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God
+bless you, Jones."</p>
+<p>Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road
+which we had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road
+a mile or more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick
+clouds gave warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the
+same circuitous road by which we had advanced in the morning--was
+not to take the nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the
+Warrenton turnpike, but all I knew was that it was somewhere to my
+right. I determined to make my way as rapidly as I could in that
+direction through the fields and thickets.</p>
+<p>For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake,
+when suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went
+cautiously in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.</p>
+<p>By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined
+against the sky.</p>
+<p>I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness
+rattling; still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it
+was a wagon, was toward me.</p>
+<p>I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no
+need for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private
+carriage; it certainly is not an army wagon."</p>
+<p>I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and
+had opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice
+which I had heard before, and which, stupefied me with
+astonishment.</p>
+<p>"Is that you, Jones?"</p>
+<p>I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my
+supposition must be impossible.</p>
+<p>A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in
+his mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt
+as though in the presence of a miracle.</p>
+<p>"I have been seeking you," he said.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2>
+<h3>A PERSONAGE</h3>
+<center>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I cannot tell<br>
+What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye<br>
+Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think.
+The happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat
+of the Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted,
+despairing, heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded
+friend, still far from safety myself, with no physical desire
+remaining except the wish to lie down and be at rest forever, and
+with no moral feeling in my consciousness except that of
+shame,--which will forever rise uppermost in me when I think of
+that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by the man whom I
+held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had believed, was
+never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the verge of
+the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the
+d&eacute;bris of the rout, while groping, as it were, on my lone
+way to security scarcely hoped for--it was too much; I sank down on
+the road.</p>
+<p>How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few
+moments.</p>
+<p>The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said
+he; "you are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with
+us."</p>
+<p>Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me
+the flask of brandy."</p>
+<p>When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before
+him.</p>
+<p>"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must
+get Willis."</p>
+<p>"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed,
+from the direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had
+reached the field hospital. Where is Willis now?"</p>
+<p>I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were
+in the stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily
+alarmed on hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name;
+then, hearing no answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is
+Jones, with help!" But there was no response.</p>
+<p>We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get
+him awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him
+up bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the
+vehicle.</p>
+<p>And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back
+and slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it
+was six in the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the
+midst of a driving rain. There were two seats in the ambulance,
+besides a double-deck, that is to say, two floors for wounded to
+lie upon. I scrambled to the rear seat.</p>
+<p>We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was
+crowded. There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on
+horseback or in carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers
+single and in groups swelled the procession, some of them with
+their arms in slings; how they had achieved the long night march I
+cannot yet comprehend.</p>
+<p>Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open,
+but he was awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.</p>
+<p>Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded
+sleepily, although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary,
+looked fresh and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I
+could almost have believed that he had become younger than he had
+been when I parted with him in Charleston, more than three years
+before. He knew that I was observing him, for he said, without
+turning his face toward me, "You have not slept well, Jones; but
+you did not know when we stopped at Fairfax; we rested the horses
+there for an hour."</p>
+<p>"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully
+down."</p>
+<p>"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.</p>
+<p>"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of
+the country?"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I did not reply at once.</p>
+<p>"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the
+people of the United States, including those of the seceded States?
+Do you mean the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes
+American civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult
+matters now. We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and
+then arrange for your comfort."</p>
+<p>"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my
+devouring curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on
+the battlefield."</p>
+<p>"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you
+there is no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately,
+as an agent of the United States Sanitary Commission."</p>
+<p>"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you
+felt no interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in
+Charleston in 'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe.
+And then, too, how could you know that I was on such a part of the
+battlefield, and that Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"</p>
+<p>"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
+afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being
+in America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer
+all talk of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with
+Sergeant Willis, and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men
+of your regiment gave me that information."</p>
+<p>I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the
+miscellaneous file of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else
+that was now blocked on the bridge,</p>
+<p>At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily
+find the place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a
+mile from the spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am
+certain that I could not have found the place."</p>
+<p>"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively
+easy for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all
+day to help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason
+that he knows every nook and corner of that part of the
+country."</p>
+<p>After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia
+College Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before
+learning that his wound was not difficult.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will
+see to it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take
+that time to set you right, especially as I can see that you have
+some traces of nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent
+your becoming ill."</p>
+<p>"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody
+authorized to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own;
+by to-morrow all the routed troops will be in or near Washington;
+then I shall simply write a note, if you insist upon it, to the
+commanding officer of your company, explaining Willis's absence and
+your connection with his case, and take on myself the
+responsibility for your return to your command."</p>
+<p>"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
+accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"</p>
+<p>"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor;
+"some of your men will not report to their commands for a week. You
+will be ready for your company before your company is ready for
+you."</p>
+<p>"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all
+military requirement."</p>
+<p>He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his
+hand.</p>
+<p>"Well, what do you think of this?"</p>
+<p>It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company
+and regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for
+ten days. I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his
+kindness.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the
+best of quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized
+that we have not yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our
+affairs; in fact, my work yesterday was rather the work of a
+volunteer than the work of the Commission. Our tents are now beyond
+Georgetown Heights; in a few days we shall move our camps, and
+shall increase our comfort."</p>
+<p>The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets.
+The sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and
+soldiers; wagons, guns, caissons, ambulances; companies,
+spick-and-span, which, had not yet seen service; ones, twos,
+threes, squads of men who had escaped from the disaster of the
+21st, unarmed, many of them, without knapsacks, haggard.</p>
+<p>At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind
+which stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished
+fugitives. The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians
+looked their anxiety. A general officer rode by, surrounded by the
+remnant of his staff, heads bent down, gloomy. Women wept while
+serving the hungry. The unfinished dome of the Capitol, hardly seen
+through the rain, loomed ominous. Depression over all: ambulances
+full of wounded men, tossing and groaning; fagged-out horses,
+vehicles splashed with mud; policemen dazed, idle; newsboys crying
+their merchandise; readers eagerly reading--not to know the result
+to the army, but the fate of some loved one; stores closed;
+whispers; doom.</p>
+<p>I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he
+got out of the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman
+gave him coffee, which he brought to me, and made me drink. He
+returned to the table and gave back the cup. The woman looked
+toward the ambulance. She was a tall young woman, serious,
+dignified. She impressed me.</p>
+<p>We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were
+four wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The
+ambulance stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of
+the tents; he pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours,"
+said he; "go to sleep; you shall not be disturbed."</p>
+<p>"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Why not?"</p>
+<p>"My mind will not let me."</p>
+<p>"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you
+are getting on."</p>
+<p>I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed,
+pulling a sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.</p>
+<p>I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the
+First Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the
+woods. I saw the rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar
+log in a thicket;--a purple wound--wet clay;--a broken
+rifle;--stacks of straw.</p>
+<p>Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me?
+for the cause? What is to defend Washington?</p>
+<p>Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would
+be anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I
+rose.</p>
+<p>"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so
+overwhelmed by this great calamity that I had not thought of
+telegraphing to my father. Can you get a messenger here?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing
+that you are safe."</p>
+<p>"You?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to
+sleep; by the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your
+father."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can
+sleep."</p>
+<p>"Let me feel your pulse."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the
+side of the bed.</p>
+<p>"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse,
+he said softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder
+that you are wrought up."</p>
+<p>He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through
+my hair.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="V"></a>V</h2>
+<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP</h3>
+<center>"Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,<br>
+But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."<br>
+<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the
+afternoon of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept
+dreamlessly.</p>
+<p>On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I
+hastily tore it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe.
+Continue to do your duty." My heart swelled,</p>
+<p>I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under
+a tree, near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an
+awning, or fly, beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a
+woman was sitting in a chair, reading. I thought I had seen her
+before, and looking more closely I recognized the woman who had
+given the Doctor a cup of coffee on Pennsylvania Avenue.</p>
+<p>The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have
+rested well," said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."</p>
+<p>I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that
+I was not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation
+of the young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was
+shame that I had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about
+her.</p>
+<p>"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with,
+a smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying
+out "Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you
+have had nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked
+yourself while bandaging--"</p>
+<p>"What do you know about that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As
+for Lydia and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and
+you must not expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to,
+my boy. I know that you have eaten nothing to-day."</p>
+<p>There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I
+did not wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the
+talks of my friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat
+merely for the purpose of keeping me in countenance.</p>
+<p>"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is
+not four years since we saw him."</p>
+<p>These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had
+left her a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was
+a woman of fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not
+resemble her father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast
+of feature. Her dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his
+straight black hair; her eyes were not his; her stature was greater
+than his. Yet there were points of resemblance. Her manner was
+certainly very like the Doctor's, and many times a fleeting
+expression was identical with, the Doctor's habitually perfect
+repose.</p>
+<p>She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot
+remember anything of her dress. I only know that it was
+unpretentious and charming.</p>
+<p>Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to
+indicate great intelligence; her complexion was between dark and
+fair, and betokened health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little
+large perhaps. She had an air of seriousness--her only striking
+peculiarity. One might have charged her with masculinity, but in
+this respect only: she was far above the average woman in dignity
+of manner and in consciousness of attainment. She could talk
+seriously of men and things.</p>
+<p>I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could
+only manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that
+she had a great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly
+boy she had known in Charleston.</p>
+<p>She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my
+third cup of coffee.</p>
+<p>"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something
+about our life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three
+sentences."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can
+speak four."</p>
+<p>"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over
+you very carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the
+hospital surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your
+extinction."</p>
+<p>"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"</p>
+<p>"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not
+talkative, but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to
+sleep."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes
+shone. He did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at
+Lydia. For the time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her
+father's. I ate. I thanked my stars for the conversation that was
+covering my ignoble performance.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of
+Willis?"</p>
+<p>"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it
+was only a buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."</p>
+<p>"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full
+credit for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage
+you gave him."</p>
+<p>"Was it the correct practice?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but
+under the circumstances we must pardon you."</p>
+<p>"How long will the sergeant be down?"</p>
+<p>"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and
+his state of mind."</p>
+<p>"What's the matter with his mind?"</p>
+<p>"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western
+world."</p>
+<p>I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head
+was the same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the
+tents.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday
+will prove to be the crisis of the war."</p>
+<p>"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South
+will win?"</p>
+<p>"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter
+which side shall win?"</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are a strange man!"</p>
+<p>"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the
+point. I ask what difference it would make whether the North or
+South should succeed."</p>
+<p>"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably?
+What are we doing here?"</p>
+<p>"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always
+wrong; going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted
+policy; every wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."</p>
+<p>"Even when war is forced upon us?"</p>
+<p>"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make
+war; if one refuses, the other cannot make war."</p>
+<p>"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to
+war on the whole; but what was left for the North to do?
+Acknowledge the right of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the
+loss of all Federal property in the Southern States? Tamely endure
+without resentment the attack on Sumter?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than
+that you resist."</p>
+<p>Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without
+ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you
+good night."</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you
+must know that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to
+the Commission, and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is
+on duty to-night at the College Hospital. I think she will have her
+hands full."</p>
+<p>"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked,
+looking my admiration.</p>
+<p>"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can
+easily see him if you wish."</p>
+<p>"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see
+him--to-morrow, if possible."</p>
+<p>Lydia started off down the hill.</p>
+<p>"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it
+is but a short distance down there."</p>
+<p>The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was
+not new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war
+is wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent
+war? A nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I
+could not doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should
+now or ever see itself broken up, then farewell to American
+liberties; farewell to the hopes of peoples against despotism. To
+refuse war, to tamely allow the South to withdraw and set up a
+government of her own, would be but the beginning of the end; at
+the first grievance California, Massachusetts, any State, could and
+would become independent. No; war must come; the Union must be
+preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for my part, I
+could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war was
+forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice?
+War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down
+to-day, but Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is
+lost, but all is not lost.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to
+be the crisis of the war?"</p>
+<p>"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and
+will be well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a
+wholesome one. Your government now knows the enormous work it has
+to do. We shall now see preparation commensurate with the greatness
+of the work. Three months' volunteers are already a thing of the
+past. This war might have been avoided; all war might be avoided;
+but this war has not been avoided; America will be at war for years
+to come."</p>
+<p>I was silent.</p>
+<p>"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is
+ordered to report immediately in person to the war department."</p>
+<p>"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but
+what has McDowell done to deserve this?"</p>
+<p>"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general
+that fails finds it so; McClellan may find it so."</p>
+<p>"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look
+things squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan
+will fail. I think, however, that there will be many failures, and
+much injustice done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily
+tolerated--any injustice that will bring success; success is
+demanded--not justice. Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and
+brought failure; wholesale murder that brings success is what is
+demanded by this superstitious people."</p>
+<p>"Why do you say superstitious?"</p>
+<p>"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it
+changes; it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has
+what he calls a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he
+changes his policy, and very frequently changes just as the cards
+change to suit his former play. You are now changing to McClellan,
+simply because McDowell has had bad luck and McClellan good luck. I
+do not know that McClellan's good luck will continue. War and cards
+are alike, and they are unlike."</p>
+<p>"How alike and unlike?"</p>
+<p>"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the
+long run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also
+destroys chance, and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side
+loses less than the other. In games, the result of one play cannot
+be foretold; in war, the result of one battle cannot be foretold.
+In games and in war the general result can be foretold; in the one
+there will be a balance and in the other there will be destruction.
+Even the winner in war is ruined morally, just as is the
+gambler."</p>
+<p>"And can you foretell the result of this war?"</p>
+<p>"Conditionally."</p>
+<p>"How conditionally?"</p>
+<p>"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her
+people become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of
+her nominal success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must
+suffer largely, just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for
+the crime of yesterday."</p>
+<p>"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."</p>
+<p>"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but
+certainly useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove
+salutary for your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to
+war must learn from misfortune."</p>
+<p>"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a
+change in generals?"</p>
+<p>"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship,
+and that is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned.
+The advance should not have been made, but he was ordered to make
+it. We now know that Beauregard's army was re&euml;nforced by
+Johnston's; it was impossible not to see that it could be so
+re&euml;nforced, as the Confederates had the interior line. The
+real fault in the campaign is not McDowell's. His plan was
+scientific; his battle was better planned than was his
+antagonist's; he outgeneralled Beauregard clearly, and failed only
+because of a fact that is going to be impressed frequently upon the
+Northern mind in this war; that fact is that the Southern troops do
+not know when they are beaten. McDowell defeated Beauregard, so far
+as those two are concerned; but his army failed, and he must be
+sacrificed; the North ought, however, to sacrifice the army."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially
+unjust and narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you
+cannot do what you know to be just. You act under compulsion,
+having yielded your freedom. A losing general is sacrificed,
+regardless of his real merit."</p>
+<p>"Was it so in Washington's case?"</p>
+<p>"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been,
+defeated at Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed,
+the colonies had given up the struggle."</p>
+<p>"And independence would have been lost?"</p>
+<p>"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American
+independence."</p>
+<p>For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most
+of it, and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views
+of the immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He
+rose at last, and left me thinking of his strange personality and
+wondering why, holding such views, be should throw his energies
+into either side.</p>
+<p>He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He
+waited as I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said
+for answer, as if still thinking of our conversation:--</p>
+<p>"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine
+circumstances in which your peculiar powers of memory would
+accomplish more genuine good than could a thousand bayonets; good
+night."</p>
+<p>Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter.
+Then, I lay down, oppressed with thought.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VI"></a>VI</h2>
+<h3>THE USES OF INFIRMITY</h3>
+<center>"There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live
+as before;<br>
+The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;<br>
+What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good
+more;<br>
+On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."<br>
+<br>
+--BROWNING.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The
+Doctor said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's
+house in Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request
+that I should come to see him.</p>
+<p>"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the
+Doctor, "and if you do not object I shall drive you down."</p>
+<p>On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of
+the capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia
+hills and was intrenching rapidly. Re&euml;nforcements were being
+hurried to Washington, and a new call for volunteers would at once
+be made. General McClellan would arrive in a few days; much was
+expected of his ability to create and discipline an army.</p>
+<p>"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr.
+Khayme; "it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have
+practically a leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure
+that rest will do you good. By the way, President Lincoln will
+visit the troops at Arlington to-day; if you like, I shall be glad
+to take you over."</p>
+<p>I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my
+desire to return to my post of duty as soon as possible.</p>
+<p>We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions
+and then passed into the office.</p>
+<p>Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I
+should be a prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a
+friend, or when it is in his power to do you a service."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two.
+What shall I say to the boys for you?"</p>
+<p>"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already.
+The surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks
+at the outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"</p>
+<p>"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not
+seen their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a
+good many wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river,
+and I have not seen a man of the company except you. I am very
+anxious."</p>
+<p>"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it
+will be some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer
+man, Jones; I believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter
+who came in here last night?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."</p>
+<p>"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"</p>
+<p>"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment
+I thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should
+ever again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to
+Dr. Khayme once more about this matter. Although he had advised me
+in Charleston never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last
+night, referred to it himself.</p>
+<p>"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for
+you?"</p>
+<p>"No, I think not."</p>
+<p>"You are able to write your own letters?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."</p>
+<p>"Well, good-by."</p>
+<p>"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones.
+I'll be with the boys again before long."</p>
+<p>In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the
+Doctor and Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of
+her promise to tell me something about her life in the East.</p>
+<p>"Where shall I begin?" she asked,</p>
+<p>"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left
+Charleston."</p>
+<p>"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any
+thought of going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get
+ready for a long journey."</p>
+<p>"When was that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation,
+and a good while after you left."</p>
+<p>"It must have been in September, then."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you were very glad to go."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so
+suddenly that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that
+grieved me."</p>
+<p>"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"</p>
+<p>"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."</p>
+<p>"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; she died while we were in India."</p>
+<p>"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"</p>
+<p>"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to
+Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not
+more than an hour or two."</p>
+<p>"How long did you stay in Paris?"</p>
+<p>"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us
+for two or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for
+Bombay."</p>
+<p>"And so you were in India most of the time while you were
+abroad?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."</p>
+<p>"In Bombay?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the
+time."</p>
+<p>"Did you go to school?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," she said, smiling.</p>
+<p>Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the
+trees. I told him of my wish to return to my company.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.</p>
+<p>"I think I am fit for duty," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.</p>
+<p>"Then why are you reluctant?"</p>
+<p>"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a
+narrower risk than your condition now would show."</p>
+<p>"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"</p>
+<p>"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might;
+the weather is very warm."</p>
+<p>"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard
+on me."</p>
+<p>"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your
+depression has gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not
+oppose your going."</p>
+<p>I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do
+you remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think
+it advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of
+them?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied,</p>
+<p>"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar
+powers."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of
+them."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a
+recurrence of my trouble?"</p>
+<p>"I had at least suspected it."</p>
+<p>"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted.
+Then, with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything
+is relative; your memory, taking it generally, is better than that
+of some, and poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your
+peculiar periods, it is in some features far stronger than the
+average memory, and in other features it is weaker; have you not
+known this?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is
+definite, if it has been formed in a lapse."</p>
+<p>"But in respect to other matters than objects?"</p>
+<p>"You mean as to thought?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--speculation."</p>
+<p>"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation,
+that is, anything not an established fact."</p>
+<p>"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article
+written to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it
+in one of your 'states'?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said I.</p>
+<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question;
+would you remember it?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a
+seceded State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth
+of the controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your
+'states,' remember the discussion?"</p>
+<p>"No; certainly not."</p>
+<p>"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the
+period affected by your memory?"</p>
+<p>"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your
+'states,' toward unsettled questions."</p>
+<p>"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the
+other."</p>
+<p>"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed
+question?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an
+opinion upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it
+from new material, or repeated material, of thought."</p>
+<p>"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow
+you are in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw
+a conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when
+you have recovered the chain of your memory?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the
+fact that I had formerly decided the matter."</p>
+<p>"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made
+while in a lapse?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people
+call them, would still be undoubted?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you
+when you recover?"</p>
+<p>"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they
+were present."</p>
+<p>"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one
+period you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful
+you gain in intensity of fact?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one
+causes the gain of the other."</p>
+<p>"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your
+faculty is quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You
+know that the hearing of the blind is very acute."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good
+thing."</p>
+<p>"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater
+value than sight?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one
+who could see."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind
+nor deaf, nor am I a scout."</p>
+<p>"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value
+at one time than another."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a
+moment that there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout;
+I have merely instanced a possible case in which hearing is more
+valuable than sight, and we have agreed that memory is worth, more
+at times than at other times. I should like to relieve you,
+moreover, of any fears that you, may have in regard to the
+continuance of your infirmity--as you insist on thinking it. Cases
+like yours always recover."</p>
+<p>"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique,"
+said I; "but I thought he said it only to comfort me."</p>
+<p>"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have
+such cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer.
+Averroes himself clearly refers to such a case."</p>
+<p>"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the
+sound of his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well
+with, our people."</p>
+<p>"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your
+own prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by
+John on Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less
+wonderful than, yours."</p>
+<p>"They were miracles," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without
+waiting for me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and
+do happen every year to men's minds than this which has happened to
+yours; men lose their minds utterly for a time, and then recover
+their faculties entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men
+can be changed in an hour, by the use of a drug, into different
+creatures, if we are to judge by the record their own consciousness
+gives them."</p>
+<p>"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me
+without a drug and in a moment."</p>
+<p>"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic
+records which will forever relieve you of the belief that your
+condition is unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it
+which I hope will prove valuable; but as to its being the one only
+case of the general--"</p>
+<p>"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I
+interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell
+me why you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness
+of the condition at the same time. If the condition may prove
+useful, why change it?"</p>
+<p>"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously,
+"there are many things in nature which show their greatest worth
+only at the moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection
+of memory is, I repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in
+order that another function may be strengthened--and all for a
+purpose."</p>
+<p>"What is that purpose?"</p>
+<p>"I cannot tell you."</p>
+<p>"Why can you not?"</p>
+<p>"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the
+usefulness of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might
+say, in order to encourage you, that it will probably be given to
+you to serve your country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how
+and when, you must leave it to the future to show."</p>
+<p>"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my
+trouble?"</p>
+<p>"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my
+judgment, require that your recovery should follow the period
+concerning which your factitious memory is brightest."</p>
+<p>"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable
+way?" I said, wondering.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he.</p>
+<p>The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on
+duty this night. She had listened gravely to what had been said.
+Now she looked up with a faint smile, which I thought meant that
+she was willing for me to talk to her and yet reluctant to be the
+first to speak, not knowing whether I had need of silence. I had
+begun to have a high opinion of Lydia's character.</p>
+<p>"And you went to school in Bombay?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, at first."</p>
+<p>I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I
+suppose my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently
+continued.</p>
+<p>"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know
+that I am a nurse with some training. Father was very willing for
+me to become a nurse, for he said that there would be war in
+America, and that nurses would be needed."</p>
+<p>Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick
+asked me to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I
+was unable to tell him."</p>
+<p>"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the
+very day on which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not
+return to Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my
+affliction disturbed me so that I could not readily continue my
+part of the conversation, and Lydia soon retired.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report
+to my company."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience;
+I shall see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this
+part of the country for a long time, and it will not be difficult
+for you to get leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I
+am thinking of moving our camp nearer to you."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VII"></a>VII</h2>
+<h3>A SECOND DISASTER</h3>
+<center>"Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.<br>
+And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard,
+and picket duty and digging.</p>
+<p>The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's
+quarters were a mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent
+visitor at his tents. After Willis's return to duty, which was in
+November, he and I spent much of our spare time at the Sanitary
+camp. It was easy to see what attracted Jake. It did not seem to me
+that Dr. Khayme gave much thought to the sergeant, but Lydia
+gravely received his adoration silently offered, and so conducted
+herself in his presence that I was puzzled greatly concerning their
+relations. I frequently wondered why the sergeant did not confide
+in me; we had become very intimate, so that in everything, except
+his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom friend, so to
+speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.</p>
+<p>One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the
+Doctor's tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be
+with us. The Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation,
+however, at his pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I
+wondered if it could be because of Willis's absence. It seemed to
+me impossible that this dignified woman could entertain a passion
+for the sergeant, who, while of course a very manly fellow, and a
+thorough soldier in his way, surely was not on a level with Miss
+Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew and felt keenly that until my
+peculiar mental phases should leave me never to return, love and
+marriage were impossible--so the very truth was, and always had
+been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any incipient
+desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition
+encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own
+mind, and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated
+until--I suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern
+myself, I drew back from every obstacle which my judgment
+pronounced insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help
+to me in this development of the will, and especially in that phase
+or exercise of it called self-control; one of his common sayings
+was, "He who resists the inevitable increases evil."</p>
+<p>Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance,
+Dr. Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect
+to me, and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many
+times in our recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was
+the man's insight. The power that he exercised over me I submitted
+to gratefully; I felt that he was a man well fitted for counselling
+youth, and I had so many proofs of his good-will, even of his
+affection, that I trusted him fully in regard to myself; yet, with
+all this, I felt that his great knowledge, and especially his
+wonderful alertness of judgment, which amounted in many cases
+seemingly to prophetic power almost, were doubtful quantities in
+relation to the war. I believed that he was admitted to high
+council; I had frequent glimpses of intimations--seemingly
+unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand circumstances and
+projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow, from a look, or
+a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached the
+opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the
+contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety.
+The news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the
+heart of the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no
+distress, to judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it
+is but just to repeat that he showed great interest in every event
+directly relating to the existence of slavery. He commended the
+acts of General Butler in Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri,
+and hoped that the Southern leaders would impress all able-bodied
+slaves into some sort of service, so that they would become at
+least morally subject to the act of Congress, approved August 6,
+which declared all such persons discharged from previous servitude.
+In comparing my own attitude to the war with the Doctor's, I
+frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union, and I cared
+everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human slavery,
+while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that
+matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the
+Congress or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery
+without the consent of the party of the first part. I was in the
+war not on account of slavery, certainly, but on account of the
+preservation of the Union; Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he
+was in it at all--not for the Union, but for the abolition of
+slavery.</p>
+<p>On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and
+occasionally gave utterance to some thought.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West;
+Grant advances."</p>
+<p>"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my
+reply.</p>
+<p>"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has
+the help of the navy."</p>
+<p>"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove
+insufficient; if the North succeeds in this war, and I see no
+reason to doubt her success if she will but determine to succeed,
+it will be through her navy."</p>
+<p>I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat
+looking dreamily at the door of the stove.</p>
+<p>After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February
+is a spring month in the South."</p>
+<p>The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are
+bad."</p>
+<p>"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"</p>
+<p>"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he
+gets the help of the navy."</p>
+<p>"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"</p>
+<p>"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>I had already heard some talk of differences between our general
+and the President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac
+to Fortress Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance
+on Richmond by the Peninsular route, as it was called.</p>
+<p>"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at
+least," he added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well
+convinced of it that I shall make preparation at once to remove my
+camp to some good place near Fort Monroe."</p>
+<p>This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress.
+What I should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not
+know; I should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my
+friends sadly.</p>
+<p>"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him
+and looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.</p>
+<p>"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe
+we can take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your
+regiment."</p>
+<p>Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I
+wished for a chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw
+none.</p>
+<p>"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I
+should like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of
+absence?"</p>
+<p>"Where there is a will there is a way."</p>
+<p>"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I,
+gloomily.</p>
+<p>"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and
+to spare."</p>
+<p>"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"</p>
+<p>"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble,
+unless things change very greatly meanwhile."</p>
+<p>I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The
+weather was mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk
+somewhat carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled
+and fell, and bruised my back.</p>
+<p>The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely
+cold. A bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow
+and rain and sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating
+with four hours' relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six
+o'clock, when I was finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I
+reached my quarters, I went to bed at once and fell into a half
+sleep.</p>
+<p>Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me,
+with his hand on my temples.</p>
+<p>"You have had too much of it," said he.</p>
+<p>I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great
+pain followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.</p>
+<p>The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but
+dreaded that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being
+occupied by four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my
+messmates except Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The
+surgeon of the Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.</p>
+<p>For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every
+day--on some days several times. Lydia never came.</p>
+<p>One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a
+litter and borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My
+father came. This was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They
+became greatly attached.</p>
+<p>My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me
+whenever he was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to
+simple care, in which Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read
+to me at times--but for short times, as the Doctor forbade my
+prolonged attention, I was not quite sure that Lydia was doing me
+good; I liked the sound of her voice, yet when she would cease
+reading I felt more nervous than before, and I could not remember
+what she had read. So far as I could see, there was no
+understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that
+I saw them together.</p>
+<p>One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us
+that he would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good
+hands," said he, "and my business demands my care; I shall always
+have you in remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."</p>
+<p>The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with
+pillows and blankets.</p>
+<p>"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever
+since he received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has
+been my best friend."</p>
+<p>"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a
+letter," said my father.</p>
+<p>"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in
+which you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor
+gave me the letter; I have it at home, somewhere."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.</p>
+<p>Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and
+battles in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been
+kept from you. On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry,
+which success led ten days later to the surrender of Buckner's army
+at Fort Donelson."</p>
+<p>"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the
+last time I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked
+about Grant's coming successes!"</p>
+<p>"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the
+Doctor.</p>
+<p>"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he
+certainly would not fail."</p>
+<p>"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.</p>
+<p>On the day following that on which my father left us, I was
+sitting in a folding chair, trying to read for the first time since
+my illness began.</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my
+boy," said he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."</p>
+<p>"Go where, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"To Fort Monroe," said he.</p>
+<p>"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, we'll go."</p>
+<p>"What are we going there for?"</p>
+<p>"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"</p>
+<p>"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General
+McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort
+Monroe, and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I begin to remember."</p>
+<p>"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's
+urgent arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as
+transportation can be provided for such an operation; it will take
+weeks yet."</p>
+<p>"And you are going to move down there?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to
+go with me; don't you want to go?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; that I do," said I.</p>
+<p>"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said
+the Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready
+for duty by the time your regiment comes."</p>
+<p>Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on,
+but she came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was
+certainly pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were
+brighter. She began at once to get together some loose things,
+although we had several days in which to make our preparations. I
+could not keep from laughing at her; at the same time I felt that
+my amusement was caused by her willingness to get away for a time
+from the army, rather than by anything else.</p>
+<p>"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.</p>
+<p>"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have
+the habit of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry
+and fluster when the time comes." Her face was very bright.</p>
+<p>"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said
+I.</p>
+<p>She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to
+severity, and she went out.</p>
+<p>That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we
+were to go; he was very blank.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched
+near Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me.
+I sat outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the
+help of the Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat
+unwillingly--I walked a little. These were happy days; I had
+nothing to do but to convalesce. The Southern climate has always
+helped me. I was recovering fast.</p>
+<p>I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we
+talked of everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to
+both of us, though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with,
+his advanced thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its
+probable results.</p>
+<p>"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be
+preserved."</p>
+<p>I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though
+I had had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear
+this speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North,
+and I felt relieved.</p>
+<p>"Continue," I begged.</p>
+<p>"You know that I have said many times that the war is
+unnecessary; that all war is crime."</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a
+crime and must be suppressed."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."</p>
+<p>"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both
+these views are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime:
+these are two truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and
+say that the North is right and the South is right."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince
+me that both of these statements can be true."</p>
+<p>"Well, are you ready to listen?"</p>
+<p>"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are
+right? Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are
+speaking of crime, not virtue."</p>
+<p>"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are
+speaking; but in regard to the principles upon which they seem to
+differ, they are right, and these are what I wish to speak of."</p>
+<p>"Well, I listen, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power
+than General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."</p>
+<p>"Agreed."</p>
+<p>"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even
+eternal, purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the
+power is infinite."</p>
+<p>"I follow you."</p>
+<p>"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it
+purpose what it will not execute."</p>
+<p>"Please illustrate, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of
+making a world should make a comet."</p>
+<p>"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen
+to be in a fair way of becoming a world."</p>
+<p>"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or
+failure."</p>
+<p>"Yes; I see, or think I do."</p>
+<p>"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and
+slavery a crime. Two truths cannot clash."</p>
+<p>"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery
+into existence, and war, also?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules
+and works beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns
+them into means for advancing His cause."</p>
+<p>"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true.
+But I do not see how the South can be right."</p>
+<p>"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?"
+asked Lydia, suddenly.</p>
+<p>It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the
+beach.</p>
+<p>"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they
+see something that interests them."</p>
+<p>Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the
+wind blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us
+were looking intently through their field-glasses.</p>
+<p>"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I
+return."</p>
+<p>We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a
+glass; he looked, and came back to us rapidly.</p>
+<p>"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a
+glass," said he.</p>
+<p>"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.</p>
+<p>"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.</p>
+<p>"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she
+will."</p>
+<p>"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.</p>
+<p>"No; what do you mean?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron
+steamer which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she
+replied.</p>
+<p>"Iron?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with
+iron, so that it cannot be injured."</p>
+<p>"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships
+remain here?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a
+vessel off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia
+took the glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the <i>Merrimac!</i>
+what a strange-looking ship!"</p>
+<p>The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the
+shore were fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed,
+throughout the prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and,
+to all seeming, emotionless.</p>
+<p>Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With
+the unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of
+them were but a very short distance from us.</p>
+<p>The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until
+I needed rest; I sat on the ground.</p>
+<p>Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three
+ships moving up toward the two which were near us.</p>
+<p>The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The
+design of the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe
+between.</p>
+<p>The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large
+roof, with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward
+Fortress Monroe.</p>
+<p>Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships
+near Newport News.</p>
+<p>The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft;
+the batteries on shore turned loose on her.</p>
+<p>Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She
+was used to wounds, but had never before seen battle.</p>
+<p>From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down
+some smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too
+small to count for much.</p>
+<p>Suddenly the <i>Merrimac</i> fired one gun, still moving on
+toward our last ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and
+on, and on, and struck our ship with her prow, and backed.</p>
+<p>The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats
+kept up their fire.</p>
+<p>The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which
+was now endeavouring to get away. The <i>Merrimac</i> fired upon
+her, gun after gun.</p>
+<p>Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to
+fire.</p>
+<p>The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she
+sank, with her guns firing as she went down.</p>
+<p>Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The
+Doctor observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed
+heavily, but did not speak.</p>
+<p>The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship
+aground; and white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.</p>
+<p>Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore
+batteries, and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to
+prevent the capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the
+great craft fired again and again into the surrendered vessel, and
+set her afire.</p>
+<p>Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also
+was aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.</p>
+<p>The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until
+she was lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning
+ship was a sheet of flame; we could see men leap from her deck;
+boats put off from the shore.</p>
+<p>"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"I want no food," said I.</p>
+<p>"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better
+when you have eaten," he replied.</p>
+<p>Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.</p>
+<p>Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with
+excitement, gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white.
+I heard one say, "My God! what will become of the <i>Minnesota</i>
+to-morrow?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have
+failed.</p>
+<p>The burning <i>Congress</i> threw around us a light brighter
+than the moon; each of us had two shadows.</p>
+<p>We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so
+calm?"</p>
+<p>"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse;
+besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."</p>
+<p>"What is to prevent the <i>Merrimac</i> from destroying our
+whole fleet and then destroying our coast?"</p>
+<p>"God!" said Dr. Khayme.</p>
+<p>Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in
+my life than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not
+permit me to go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the
+camps I knew that my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought,
+that my experience in war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull
+Run had been but the first horror; here was another and possibly a
+worse one. The East seemed propitious to the rebels; Grant alone,
+of our side, could gain victories.</p>
+<p>The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense
+smoke crept along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort,
+I knew, was being made to get the <i>Minnesota</i> off; nobody
+could have slept that night.</p>
+<p>The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he
+came in finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and
+now came in also.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."</p>
+<p>Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something
+to relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the
+better."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, the <i>Merrimac</i> will meet her match if she
+comes out to-morrow."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the
+<i>Merrimac,</i> has arrived."</p>
+<p>Lydia left the tent.</p>
+<p>I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly.
+I started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head,
+and gently pressed me back to my pillow.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="VIII"></a>VIII</h2>
+<h3>THE TWO SOUTHS</h3>
+<center>"Yet spake yon purple mountain,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Yet said yon ancient wood,<br>
+That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON</center>
+<br>
+<p>About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to
+shake the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled
+dreams.</p>
+<p>I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were
+ranked against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of
+the soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in
+the other army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no
+soldier could say which flags were his. The men intermingled and
+fought, and, not able to know enemy from friend, slew friend and
+enemy, and slew until but two opponents remained; these two shook
+hands, and laughed, and I saw their faces; and the face of one was
+the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of the other I did not
+know.</p>
+<p>Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had
+dreamed true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were
+false. In my ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I
+had judged that it would be strange if among a thousand dreams not
+one should prove true. So this dream passed for the time from my
+mind.</p>
+<p>We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave.
+Lydia looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we
+expected a trial to our nerves.</p>
+<p>After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried
+one; we went to a sand-hill near the beach.</p>
+<p>To the south of the <i>Minnesota</i> now lay a peculiar vessel.
+No one had ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a
+flat raft with a big round cistern--such as are seen in the South
+and West--amidships, and a very big box or barrel on one end.</p>
+<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> was coming; there were crowds of spectators
+on the batteries and on the dunes.</p>
+<p>The <i>Monitor</i> remained near the <i>Minnesota</i>; the
+<i>Merrimac</i> came on. From each of the iron ships came great
+spouts of smoke, from each the sound of heavy guns. The wind drove
+away the smoke rapidly; every manoeuvre could be seen.</p>
+<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> looked like a giant by the side of the
+other, but the other was quicker.</p>
+<p>They fought for hours, the <i>Merrimac</i> slowly moving past
+the <i>Monitor</i> and firing many guns, the <i>Monitor</i> turning
+quickly and seeming to fire but seldom. Sometimes they were so near
+each other they seemed to touch.</p>
+<p>At last they parted; the <i>Monitor</i> steamed toward the
+shore, and the great <i>Merrimac</i> headed southward and went away
+into the distance.</p>
+<p>Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in
+our little group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling
+was too deep; on the issue of the contest depended vast
+results.</p>
+<p>When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I
+could not tell whether our side had won, but I know that the
+<i>Merrimac</i> had hauled off without accomplishing her purpose; I
+think that was all that any of us knew. At any moment I should not
+have been astonished to see the <i>Merrimac</i> blow her little
+antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my mind the fight had
+been very unequal.</p>
+<p>"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp,
+"and now McClellan's army can come without fear."</p>
+<p>"Do you think," I asked, "that the <i>Merrimac</i> is so badly
+done up that she will not try it again?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is
+damaged; but of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she
+could have fought longer with hope of victory, she would not have
+retired; her retreat means that she has renounced her best
+hope."</p>
+<p>The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in
+nearly two days. She was still very serious, however. She had
+become accustomed in hospital work to some of the results of
+battle; now she had witnessed war itself.</p>
+<p>After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the
+navy would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our
+fleet that would give us a final preponderance over the South.</p>
+<p>"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a
+stupendous undertaking could well be."</p>
+<p>"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more
+restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend
+upon their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."</p>
+<p>"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said
+Lydia.</p>
+<p>"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially,
+thinks clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing
+about states' rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though,
+beats true on the slavery question; England will never recognize
+the South."</p>
+<p>"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?"
+I asked,</p>
+<p>"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not
+believe that, I should feel no interest in this war."</p>
+<p>"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no
+intention of interfering with slavery."</p>
+<p>"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been
+avoided; but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar
+institution of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of
+slavery in the South, England would recognize the South. England
+has no political love for the United States, and would not lament
+greatly the dissolution of the Union. The North will be compelled
+to extinguish slavery in order to prevent England from recognizing
+the South. The Union cannot now be preserved except on condition of
+freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I am willing to compromise
+with you; I am for saving the Union in order to destroy slavery,
+and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order to save the
+Union!</p>
+<p>"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will
+succeed unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by
+constitutional means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation;
+you see how one crime always leads to another."</p>
+<p>"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for
+slavery only, whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is
+fighting for self-government."</p>
+<p>"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is
+fighting for slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself.
+But when we say 'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we
+mean. There are two Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and
+their slaves; the other is the common people. There never was a
+greater absurdity taught than that which Northern writers and
+newspapers have spread to the effect that in the South there is no
+middle class. The middle class <i>is</i> the South. This is the
+South that is right and wholesome and strong. The North may defeat
+the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat it; but
+never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
+which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of
+truth if not the fulness of it.</p>
+<p>"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in
+her present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also
+the North is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.</p>
+<p>"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will
+go down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men,
+the North will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not
+do it. The Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and
+undeveloped, must prevail instead of the Southern idea of
+individual freedom; but how prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that
+war in which ideas prevail is not fought with force. Artillery
+accomplishes naught. I can fancy a battlefield where two great
+armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on this side and on that side
+are uniformed alike and their flags are alike, but they kill each
+other till none remains, and nothing is accomplished except
+destruction; yet the principle for which each fought remains,
+though all are dead."</p>
+<p>For a time I was speechless.</p>
+<p>At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and
+flags alike?"</p>
+<p>He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their
+cause, and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="IX"></a>IX</h2>
+<h3>KILLING TIME</h3>
+<center>"Why, then, let's on our way in silent
+sort."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were
+spent with her father.</p>
+<p>Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered
+all my old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody
+could say when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed,
+found roomy locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off
+at Yorktown, and with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the
+country up to our pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the
+Doctor's company time would have been heavy on my hands.</p>
+<p>About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but
+no Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his
+camp until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that
+there would be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer
+to Richmond.</p>
+<p>On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was
+willing to serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh
+should come.</p>
+<p>"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a
+few days," he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the
+troops now here are more than are needed, except for future work.
+Besides, you might do better. You have good eyes, and a good memory
+as long as it lasts; you might make a secret examination of the
+Confederate lines."</p>
+<p>"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."</p>
+<p>"Well, think of it," said he.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
+exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did
+not wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I
+liked the thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning
+the positions and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my
+school days, and afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting
+stories with, eagerness, and had worshipped his Witherspoon.</p>
+<p>"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
+possible."</p>
+<p>"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to
+send you off properly."</p>
+<p>When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by
+the Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But
+she said little, and I could only infer that she might be creating
+in her brain false dangers for a friend.</p>
+<p>By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything
+was ready for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober
+suit of gray clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might
+deceive the eye at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate
+the wearer from any suspicion that he was seriously offering
+himself as a Confederate.</p>
+<p>"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it
+will fit you well enough."</p>
+<p>It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and,
+purposely, had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave
+me also a black felt hat.</p>
+<p>"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I
+answered.</p>
+<p>"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial
+things such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be
+searched nothing can be proved. Leave all your money in bills
+behind; coin will not be bad to take; here are a few Confederate
+notes for you."</p>
+<p>"Do I need a pass?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
+Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it;
+I want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass
+would betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it
+will not be difficult to explain at headquarters."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"</p>
+<p>"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't
+know when you will get another meal."</p>
+<p>At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and
+reach before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line,
+which was believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry
+Island, or Mulberry Point; I would then watch for opportunities,
+and act accordingly, with the view of following up the rebel line,
+or as near to it as possible.</p>
+<p>I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon
+outside the guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due
+north by the Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was
+glad of it. The stars gave me enough light. My road was good,
+level, sandy--a lane between two rail fences almost hidden with
+vines and briers. At my left and behind me I could hear the roar of
+the surf.</p>
+<p>When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead,
+I stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our
+men, or rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into
+a fence corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I
+waited until they had passed out of sight, and then rose to
+continue my tramp, when suddenly, before I had made a step, another
+horseman rode by, following the others. If he had looked in my
+direction, he would have seen me; but he passed on with his head
+straight to the front. I supposed that this last man was on duty as
+the rear of the squad.</p>
+<p>Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The
+party of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol,
+and that I should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely
+cautious in going forward, not knowing how soon I might run against
+some scouting party of the rebels.</p>
+<p>The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy
+and mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small
+growth. The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from
+studying the map before I had set out I had some idea of the
+general character of the country at my right, as well as a pretty
+accurate notion of the distance I must make before I should come
+near to the first rebel post; though, of course, I could not know
+that such post had not been abandoned, or advanced even, within the
+last few hours.</p>
+<p>I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and
+straight ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My
+senses were alert; I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I
+felt that I was alone and dependent upon myself, but the feeling
+was not greatly oppressive.</p>
+<p>Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence
+running at a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not
+continued to the left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence
+was the junction of the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly
+seen before I started that at this junction there was danger of
+finding a rebel outpost, or of falling upon a rebel scouting party,
+I now became still more cautious, moving along half bent on the
+edge of the road, and at last creeping on my hands and knees until
+I reached the junction.</p>
+<p>There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward
+Little Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found
+nothing, and returned to the junction; then continued up the road
+toward Young's Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited
+frequently by the rebels, and my attention became so fixed that I
+started at the slightest noise. The sand's crunching under my feet
+sounded like the puffing of a locomotive. The wind made a slight
+rippling with the ends of the tie on my hat-band, I cut the ends
+off, to be relieved of the distraction.</p>
+<p>I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as
+well as to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to
+Bethel, at my rear and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk
+into a fence corner, and lay perfectly still, listening with all my
+ears. The noise increased; it was clear that horsemen from the
+Bethel road were coming into the junction, a hundred yards in my
+rear.</p>
+<p>The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.</p>
+<p>But <i>had</i> they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down
+the road toward Newport News.</p>
+<p>Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the
+hoof-beats of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into
+my fence corner and lay flat and still.</p>
+<p>It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when
+life is about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant
+all the deeds of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know,
+at least, that my mind had many thoughts in the situation in which
+I now found myself.</p>
+<p>I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were
+rebels.</p>
+<p>They were now but a few yards off.</p>
+<p>An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would
+discover me.</p>
+<p>If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen
+would ride me down at once.</p>
+<p>If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky,
+would be a mark for many carbines.</p>
+<p>If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.</p>
+<p>But what could I expect from my companion?</p>
+<p>Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had
+the rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were
+they pursuing him?</p>
+<p>But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the
+direction of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he
+not hidden.</p>
+<p>If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be
+to lie still.</p>
+<p>Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were
+rebels.</p>
+<p>But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If
+he was one of theirs, should I lie still?</p>
+<p>No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot
+at.</p>
+<p>If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case,
+my unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let
+the troops pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet
+of me.</p>
+<p>Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel,
+still the question remained whether he had seen me.</p>
+<p>It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was
+a log? Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a
+place; there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify
+the existence of a log in this place.</p>
+<p>All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while
+the horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces
+more, I had come to a decision.</p>
+<p>I had decided to lie still.</p>
+<p>There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get
+away. I would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a
+friend, my case might be better than before; if he should prove to
+be an enemy, I must act prudently and try to befool him. I must
+discover his intentions before making mine known. He, also, must be
+in a great quandary.</p>
+<p>The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told
+whether they were from the North or the South by their voices, but
+they did not speak.</p>
+<p>There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and,
+indeed, I did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to
+the ground.</p>
+<p>The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.</p>
+<p>Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my
+companion. I was right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else
+he would now rise and go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he
+did not speak; what was the matter with him?</p>
+<p>But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me,
+just as I was fearing him.</p>
+<p>But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was
+hiding from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?</p>
+<p>But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his
+hiding in a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the
+observation of the horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence
+corner was an accident.</p>
+<p>Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do
+something? He has no reason to fear me.</p>
+<p>But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads
+everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave
+him.</p>
+<p>But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot
+speak to a man who flees and hides? I <i>will</i> speak to
+him--</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.</p>
+<p>I sat bolt upright; so did he.</p>
+<p>"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, you; what is your name?"</p>
+<p>"My name Nick."</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."</p>
+<p>"You are hiding from the soldiers."</p>
+<p>"What sojers, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not
+yet know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The
+night was cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had
+been warm, but now I was getting chilly.</p>
+<p>Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a
+supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave
+who does not wish to be free is an impossibility.</p>
+<p>"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno, mahsa."</p>
+<p>"Then, why did you hide from them?"</p>
+<p>"Who, me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; why did you run and hide?"</p>
+<p>"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."</p>
+<p>This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I
+must be the first to declare myself.</p>
+<p>"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say
+rebels, but thought better of it; the word would declare my
+sympathies. I was not so ready, after all.</p>
+<p>"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted
+negro.</p>
+<p>"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."</p>
+<p>"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so.
+I knew that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp
+servants, slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be
+trustworthy. Who could know, after all, that there were no
+exceptions amongst slaves? My doubts became so keen that I should
+not have believed Nick on his oath. He might tell me a lie with the
+purpose of leading me into a rebel camp. I must get rid of him
+somehow.</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"</p>
+<p>"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."</p>
+<p>"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a
+little?"</p>
+<p>I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose
+tobacco in one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not
+know.</p>
+<p>"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick
+hesitated,</p>
+<p>"A what?"</p>
+<p>"A good man," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."</p>
+<p>"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"I want to see some people up there."</p>
+<p>Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him
+into the Southern lines? It looked so.</p>
+<p>The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might
+betray me. His hesitation was assuring.</p>
+<p>I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some
+people up the road."</p>
+<p>"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."</p>
+<p>"Do you think they will come back soon?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."</p>
+<p>"Didn't you come from up the road?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"</p>
+<p>This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it;
+and to give him as good.</p>
+<p>"Do Southern officers carry guns?"</p>
+<p>"You Southern officer, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't
+you know that, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.</p>
+<p>"What is it, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."</p>
+<p>"What makes you think so, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on
+lak you is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back
+to dem breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or
+I'll have you strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."</p>
+<p>Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be
+feared. He was willing for me to believe that he had run away from
+the Confederates.</p>
+<p>"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are
+enough niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like
+to give you a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.</p>
+<p>"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"</p>
+<p>"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"</p>
+<p>"Go up the road with me," said I.</p>
+<p>Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted
+to betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his
+silence to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say,
+that he wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I
+felt so sure of this that I should not have been surprised if he
+had suddenly set out running down the road; yet I supposed that he
+was still in doubt of my character and feared a pistol-shot from
+me. He was silent so long that I fully made up my mind that I could
+trust him a little.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern
+officer nor a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to
+go to Fortress Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first;
+if you serve me well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one
+day, and I'll make it worth your while."</p>
+<p>"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"</p>
+<p>"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me
+how to see the breastworks and not be seen myself."</p>
+<p>"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"</p>
+<p>It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he
+think it out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern
+soldier?</p>
+<p>"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will
+give you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you
+another dollar and a chance to make more."</p>
+<p>Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the
+sequel showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally,
+he said that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I
+felt in my pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at
+once closed the bargain.</p>
+<p>"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be
+faithful, and I will give you another before dark to-morrow."</p>
+<p>"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"</p>
+<p>"Where is the first Confederate post?"</p>
+<p>"You mean dem Southern sojers?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine <i>up</i> de road, or dem
+dat's fust a-comin' <i>down</i> de road?"</p>
+<p>"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.</p>
+<p>"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"Did you see them?"</p>
+<p>"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."</p>
+<p>"How did you keep them from seeing you?"</p>
+<p>"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."</p>
+<p>"How long ago was it since you saw them?"</p>
+<p>"Sence sundown," said Nick,</p>
+<p>"When did you leave the breastworks?"</p>
+<p>"Las' night."</p>
+<p>"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"</p>
+<p>"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might
+strak up wid 'em."</p>
+<p>"How far have you come in all?"</p>
+<p>"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber
+swamp all day."</p>
+<p>"Did you have anything to eat?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."</p>
+<p>"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"</p>
+<p>"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to
+eat?"</p>
+<p>"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."</p>
+<p>"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is
+almos' all done gone to Richmon' er summers<a name=
+"FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1">[1]</a> en' I don't know w'at
+we's a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do
+fer sum'hm to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer
+'bacco nudda."</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a>
+Somewhere [Ed.].</blockquote>
+<p>"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect
+you to find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for
+it."</p>
+<p>We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.</p>
+<p>"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it
+as I can get without being seen."</p>
+<p>"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.</p>
+<p>"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the
+breastworks. First, I want to go to Young's Mill."</p>
+<p>"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."</p>
+<p>"Two?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de
+yudda one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."</p>
+<p>"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.</p>
+<p>"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep
+dis straight road."</p>
+<p>"But we must not show ourselves," said I.</p>
+<p>"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda;
+des' you follow me."</p>
+<p>Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a
+mile, then northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the
+road again.</p>
+<p>"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun'
+de fust ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got
+aroun' 'em, 'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em
+agin."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"</p>
+<p>"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.</p>
+<p>We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean
+death. We went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way
+at a rapid and long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in
+sight. The night was getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and
+there were dense clumps of small trees; at the little watercourses
+there was larger growth. The roar of the sea was heard no longer.
+It must have been about midnight.</p>
+<p>We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed
+ours.</p>
+<p>"Stop a little, Nick," said I.</p>
+<p>Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a
+hundred yards in every direction.</p>
+<p>"Where does that road go?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole
+Young's Mill."</p>
+<p>"How far is old Young's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p>
+<p>"Where does the right-hand lead?"</p>
+<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis
+Cheeseman's dey is calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry,
+but dey is on de yudda side o' de creek."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"</p>
+<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p>
+<p>We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road
+running almost west; a church stood on the other side of the
+road.</p>
+<p>"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to
+Worrick."</p>
+<p>"And where does the right-hand lead?"</p>
+<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off,
+nudda."</p>
+<p>We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick
+was telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was
+still before my mind's eye.</p>
+<p>"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I
+asked.</p>
+<p>"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"How far this side?"</p>
+<p>"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"</p>
+<p>"How near can we get to the picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut
+down."</p>
+<p>"The trees cut down in their front?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."</p>
+<p>"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun'
+de pon'."</p>
+<p>"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the
+picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de
+picket-line, en' de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en'
+all."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your
+eyes wide open."</p>
+<p>Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he
+turned to the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and
+crossed a creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see
+in the darkness a great deal better than I could; where I should
+have groped my way, had I been alone, he went boldly enough,
+putting his foot down flat as though he could see where he was
+stepping. Nick said that there were no soldiers in these woods and
+swamps; they were all on the road and at Young's Mill, now a mile
+at our left.</p>
+<p>At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very
+tired; but, not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we
+should wait by the side of the road for a while, to see if any
+soldiers should pass. We sat in the bushes; soon Nick was on his
+back, asleep, and I was not sorry to see him go to sleep so
+quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have done so if he had
+meant to betray me.</p>
+<p>I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single
+horseman came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his
+sabre rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had
+died away, I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At
+last Nick stopped.</p>
+<p>"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.</p>
+<p>"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.</p>
+<p>"Again? Have we gone wrong?"</p>
+<p>"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he
+repeated.</p>
+<p>"Where are we?"</p>
+<p>"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den
+w'at you gwine to do?"</p>
+<p>"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and
+know how many they are."</p>
+<p>"Den w'at you gwine to do?"</p>
+<p>"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward
+Yorktown."</p>
+<p>"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin'
+out in de woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout
+noth'n' to eat."</p>
+<p>"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get
+an hour or two of sleep without freezing?"</p>
+<p>"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's
+w'at you gwine to do; come on."</p>
+<p>He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through
+woods, then a field, and came to a farmhouse,</p>
+<p>"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that
+house."</p>
+<p>"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to
+Richmon' er summers."</p>
+<p>The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the
+place.</p>
+<p>Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed
+up into the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose
+hay in the loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick
+promise to be awake before sunrise, for I feared the place would be
+visited by the rebels.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="X"></a>X</h2>
+<h3>THE LINE OF THE WARWICK</h3>
+<center>"Thus are poor servitors,<br>
+While others sleep upon their quiet beds,<br>
+Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."<br>
+--Shakespeare.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep
+quickly. When I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.</p>
+<p>I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the
+sky was reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for
+hours had he been alone.</p>
+<p>The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food?
+Useless to search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was
+bare. I asked Nick if he could manage in any way to get something
+to eat. He could not; we must starve unless accident should throw
+food in our way.</p>
+<p>A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a
+long ways to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood
+nor no water."</p>
+<p>We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we
+reached it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see
+dryer ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a
+tree I could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the
+west, with the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no
+movement going on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent.
+I had no more tobacco.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through
+the woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their
+line crossed the road.</p>
+<p>About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of
+felled timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our
+left. At long intervals a man would pass across the road where it
+struck the picket-line.</p>
+<p>Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his
+topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line
+was behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an
+outpost; and I was considering whether it would not be best to turn
+this position on the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible,
+and make for Lee's Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient,
+and see what was above that point, when I heard galloping in the
+road behind us. Nick had heard the noise before it reached my
+ears.</p>
+<p>A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and
+remained a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the
+road toward Warwick Court-House.</p>
+<p>At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept
+up as near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their
+knapsacks and falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry
+from down the road; they passed through the picket-line, and were
+soon lost to sight. Then the picket marched off up the road. Ten
+minutes more and half a dozen cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of
+all, I was hoping--and passed on.</p>
+<p>The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention
+of getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of
+appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the
+abandoned line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we
+crawled through the felled timber.</p>
+<p>The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over
+the ground were the remains of straw beds; some brush
+arbours--improvised shelters--were standing; we found enough broken
+pieces of hardtack to relieve our most pressing want.</p>
+<p>I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended
+within two hundred yards of the road.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this
+direction?" pointing northwest.</p>
+<p>"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said
+Nick.</p>
+<p>"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."</p>
+<p>"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"</p>
+<p>"You mean 'long here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is
+some mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de
+riber, whah Lee's Mill is."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Hit's mos' fo' mile."</p>
+<p>"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Riber is deep down below de mill."</p>
+<p>"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.</p>
+<p>"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."</p>
+<p>"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."</p>
+<p>"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"</p>
+<p>"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at
+de Pint."</p>
+<p>"Up at what Point?"</p>
+<p>"Up at de Mulberry Pint."</p>
+<p>"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"</p>
+<p>"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."</p>
+<p>Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the
+withdrawal of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main
+line beyond the Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach
+the river and follow it up--since the rebel line was on its other
+bank or beyond--I decided to let Nick go.</p>
+<p>"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more
+now."</p>
+<p>"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will
+attend closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night,
+are you not?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for
+me. Will you do it?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the
+rebels catch you."</p>
+<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet
+some Union soldiers; then you will be safe."</p>
+<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p>
+<p>"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the
+rebel camp. I gave the paper to Nick.</p>
+<p>"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the
+captain."</p>
+<p>"Yassa."</p>
+<p>"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must
+tell him that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick
+Court-House, and that the paper is to let him know it."</p>
+<p>"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I
+won't do noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."</p>
+<p>"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to
+you."</p>
+<p>Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.</p>
+<p>My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the
+Warwick River some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits,
+my cautiousness increased, although I expected to find no enemy
+until I was near the mill. I went first as nearly westward as I
+could know; my purposes were to reach the river and roughly
+ascertain its width and depth; if it should be, as Nick had
+declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth would be sufficient
+protection to the rebels behind it, and I would waste no time in
+examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I crept,
+sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in
+the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either
+crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in
+the low ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left
+was a cleared field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the
+field a dwelling with outhouses. I approached the house, screening
+myself behind a rail fence. The house was deserted. I passed
+through the yard. There was no sign of any living thing, except a
+pig which scampered away with a loud snort of disapproval. The
+house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows were broken,
+and a mere glance showed me that the place had been stripped.</p>
+<p>Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the
+river, for I began to fear that I had been rash in coming through
+the open. Soon I struck the river, which here bent in a long curve
+across the line of my march. The river was wide and deep.</p>
+<p>At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be
+little need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of
+this unfordable stream.</p>
+<p>It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my
+rear, and wondered what could be going on back there.</p>
+<p>Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So
+long as I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and
+the country, even away from the river, was much wooded. My
+knowledge of the map placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and
+northeast I went, but for fully three hours I kept on and found no
+river again. I felt sure that I had leaned too far to the east, and
+was about to turn square to my left and seek the river, when I saw
+before me a smaller stream flowing westward. I did not understand.
+I knew that I had come a much greater distance than three miles; I
+had crossed two large roads running north; this stream was not down
+on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this stream was the
+Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small, as Nick
+had intimated.</p>
+<p>I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great
+angle in the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's
+Mill.</p>
+<p>Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam,
+seemingly a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not
+understand why it was there. On the other side of the water, which
+seemed to be deep, though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A
+road, a narrow country road, ran seemingly straight into the water.
+Only a few steps to my left there was an elbow of the road, I moved
+to this elbow, keeping in the bushes, and looked down on the water.
+There was no sign of a ferry; I could see the road where it left
+the water on the other side, and I could see men passing back and
+forth across the road some two or three hundred yards away.</p>
+<p>For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the
+meaning of this road's going into deep water. What could it mean?
+Certainly there was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The
+ordinary needs of the country would require a ferry, and there was
+no ferry. I had looked long and closely, and was sure there was no
+ferry, and was almost as sure that there never had been one. The
+road before my eyes was untravelled; the ruts were weeks old,
+without the sign of a fresh track since the last rains; the road
+was not now used, that was a certainty.</p>
+<p>When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear;
+the road had been a good road before the rebels came; when they
+fortified their lines they rendered the road useless. They
+destroyed the ford by building the dam below.</p>
+<p>I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of
+what at first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have
+told me offhand all about it.</p>
+<p>In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep
+water. Now, thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly
+see another dam, and it was not five minutes before I came in sight
+of the second dam.</p>
+<p>I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of
+earthworks on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed
+nearly straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was.
+To attack the Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our
+troops could first destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.</p>
+<p>By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was
+famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get
+any food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about
+me to see if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for
+not having brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain
+this night near the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing
+that my work was not yet done, until the next day; so I must expect
+many hours of sharp hunger unless I could find food.</p>
+<p>I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a
+continuous line of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to
+Yorktown, and all I cared to prove was whether that line had its
+angle at the former place, as Nick had declared, and as seemed
+reasonable to me from every consideration. I would, then, make my
+way carefully down the river to Lee's Mill, and if possible finish
+my work before sunset; but my hunger was so great that I thought it
+advisable to first seek food. So, deferring my further progress
+down the stream, I set out in an easterly direction by the road
+which had crossed previously above the second dam, in the hope that
+this road would lead me to some house where help could be found,
+for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my first
+need.</p>
+<p>However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road,
+walking through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another
+road joining it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn
+from recent use. I had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard
+a noise behind me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat
+behind a bush which grew by a fallen tree. Three
+horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward. They passed at a walk,
+and were talking, but their words could not be distinguished. The
+middle man was riding a gray horse.</p>
+<p>About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became
+less dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was
+what the Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a
+small farmhouse with, a few necessary outbuildings.</p>
+<p>Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house
+yard from the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with
+saddles on their backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant
+from the horses, and could plainly see a holster in front of one of
+the saddles.</p>
+<p>No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and
+listened. The evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in
+the west, but the sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be
+an hour or two of daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill
+must be put off till the morrow.</p>
+<p>A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the
+well in the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail
+of water. Now the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the
+stamping of heavy foot within the house; a moment afterward three
+men came out and approached the horses.</p>
+<p>The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his
+eyes with his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling
+cloud-edge barely hid the sun from view. He was looking directly
+over my head; dropping his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This
+man was nearer to me than the others were. I could less distinctly
+hear the words of the others, but when this one got near their
+horses a conversation was held with the woman standing in the
+doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse,
+"yes, I reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any
+more."</p>
+<p>"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose
+words, by reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was
+talking toward me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.</p>
+<p>"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was
+astride his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks
+treat you as well as us, you may thank your God."</p>
+<p>"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to
+risk 'em if God sends 'em."</p>
+<p>The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions,
+shouted back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody
+else!"</p>
+<p>"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a
+parting shot.</p>
+<p>When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the
+road, I had but little reluctance in going into the house. The
+woman stared at me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye;
+evidently she did not know what to think of me. She said nothing,
+and stood her ground in the middle of the floor.</p>
+<p>I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in
+which there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst;
+then I said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have
+what cold food you have in the house."</p>
+<p>"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she
+asked.</p>
+<p>"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"</p>
+<p>"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most
+ev'ything I had, so I hain't got much."</p>
+<p>"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you
+can."</p>
+<p>She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone"
+of corn-bread.</p>
+<p>"This is all they is," she said.</p>
+<p>"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"</p>
+<p>"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."</p>
+<p>"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.</p>
+<p>She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down
+to Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an'
+you soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel
+kinder skittish."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the
+Yankees are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before
+to-morrow, though--maybe not till the day after."</p>
+<p>"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but
+I reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."</p>
+<p>"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't
+have run off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of
+them. I don't suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop
+again."</p>
+<p>"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop
+tell they git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the
+mill."</p>
+<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,</p>
+<p>She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a
+mistake.</p>
+<p>"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"</p>
+<p>"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."</p>
+<p>I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I
+had made another mistake.</p>
+<p>"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing
+her a one-dollar Confederate note.</p>
+<p>"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to
+see silver agin."</p>
+<p>"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.</p>
+<p>"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore
+eyes."</p>
+<p>"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said;
+"anyhow, you kin git to the camp on this side."</p>
+<p>"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.</p>
+<p>"Good-by, Mister," she said.</p>
+<p>I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the
+door; she raised her voice a little, and said,--</p>
+<p>"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the
+mill."</p>
+<p>So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but
+as soon as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right
+through the woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could
+eat and sleep.</p>
+<p>When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from
+the post near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all
+withdrawing to their main lines; this thought had received some
+corroboration from the firing heard in my rear later in the day; I
+had believed the Union troops advancing behind me; but afterward I
+had seen other rebels at the woman's house, and I now doubted what
+I had before believed. Besides, it was clear from the woman's words
+that there was a rebel post this side of Lee's Mill, and I was yet
+in danger.</p>
+<p>The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running
+west, the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept
+up to it, and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it,
+and into the woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a
+southwest course, and found a spot where I thought I could spend
+the night in safety. For fear of being detected I dug a hole, with
+my knife, in the earth, and piled the loose earth around the hole;
+then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at the bottom. Night had not
+yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense thicket surrounded
+by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or smoke would
+betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of any one
+who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and toasted
+my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I wanted
+water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to
+search for a spring or a stream in the woods.</p>
+<p>I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with
+my hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not
+cold, threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the
+wind.</p>
+<p>Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of
+lying in a mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water
+running through my whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have
+water at any risk.</p>
+<p>I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of
+my supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all
+likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.</p>
+<p>Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was
+completely lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and
+gullies, round and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out,
+until just before day I saw the reflection of fire through the
+woods, and at the same time almost fell into a small pool. It was
+the reflection of the light by the pool which at once showed me the
+water and saved me from finding it with a sense other than
+sight.</p>
+<p>I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant.
+Although it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it
+was some rebel camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I
+turned my back on the light, and walked until I could see it no
+more; then I stretched myself under a tree, but could not sleep.
+Day was coming.</p>
+<p>After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable
+time of it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to
+determine to move, for I did not know which way to start. I set
+out, however, and had gone a short distance, when I noticed the
+green moss at the root of a large tree, and I remembered that I had
+read in stories of Indians and hunters that such moss always grows
+on the north side of the trees. So I then turned westward, for I
+knew that I had crossed no road in my wanderings of the night, and
+I also knew that the main road from Warwick Court-House to Lee's
+Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a great tree with a
+sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was raining harder.
+When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat under the
+tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and hiding
+me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard
+the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of
+rebel cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could
+distinctly hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off,
+seemingly. The rain still fell and I held my place.</p>
+<p>All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union
+soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.</p>
+<p>Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an
+advancing line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.</p>
+<p>"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are <i>you?</i>"</p>
+<p>"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer,
+coming up, "I'll attend to that man."</p>
+<p>"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to
+the right!"</p>
+<p>Two men came to the lieutenant.</p>
+<p>"Who <i>are</i> you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.</p>
+<p>"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"</p>
+<p>"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in
+the night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of
+their cavalry went by ten minutes ago."</p>
+<p>The line went on in the rain.</p>
+<p>The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them
+to take me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson.
+I have never learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good
+qualities.</p>
+<p>Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line
+did not seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began
+to understand that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should
+have run upon the enemy in force.</p>
+<p>I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the
+head of his brigade. He asked me my name.</p>
+<p>"Jones Berwick, General," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your business?"</p>
+<p>"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p>
+<p>He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least,
+it had not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before
+yesterday."</p>
+<p>"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near
+Washington?"</p>
+<p>"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my
+health, General."</p>
+<p>"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by
+lying out in the woods in the rain?"</p>
+<p>"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and
+I am now fully recovered."</p>
+<p>General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on
+day before yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General
+McClellan had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I
+left."</p>
+<p>"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern
+accent."</p>
+<p>"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner;
+I came out to observe the rebel lines."</p>
+<p>"By whose authority?"</p>
+<p>Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass,
+signed by such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some
+complication should arise which would give trouble to such an
+officer, for Dr. Khayme had not fully informed me about my
+privileges.</p>
+<p>"It was only a private enterprise, General."</p>
+<p>"Tell me all about it," he said.</p>
+<p>I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the
+Warwick River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it;
+that the fords had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no
+rebels on this side of the river now, in my opinion, except
+pickets, and possibly a force just in front of Lee's Mill.</p>
+<p>"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the
+other side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it.
+Night came on me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I
+have nothing but hearsay in regard to that place."</p>
+<p>"What have you heard?"</p>
+<p>I told him what the woman had said.</p>
+<p>"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he
+asked sternly.</p>
+<p>"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any
+proof; I wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy
+you."</p>
+<p>The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on
+a piece of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who
+rushed off to the rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from
+the rear; he saluted General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him
+in a low tone. I could easily guess that he was speaking of me.</p>
+<p>Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about
+my service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was
+its colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead
+of my regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick
+replies. Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout,
+which I gave him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke
+of Nick, his eye brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he
+nodded his head. Then he asked, "What did you write?"</p>
+<p>"The word <i>going</i>," I said.</p>
+<p>"Have you a pencil?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Here, take this, and write the word <i>going</i>," he said,
+handing me a small blank-book.</p>
+<p>On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature
+below.</p>
+<p>Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked
+attentively at both books.</p>
+<p>Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he
+says. Better be careful of your advance."</p>
+<p>And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr.
+Berwick."</p>
+<p>That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XI"></a>XI</h2>
+<h3>FORT WILLIS</h3>
+<center>"This is the sergeant,<br>
+Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters,
+I had been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News.
+The officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's
+aides. The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had
+delivered my message, with which my handwriting showed identity;
+moreover, General Keyes, when the matter was brought to his
+attention, immediately declared with a laugh that his friend
+Khayme's prot&eacute;g&eacute; was a "brick."</p>
+<p>The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously
+subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which,
+though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a
+camp-bed after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near
+me, and questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to
+term my escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my
+visit to the woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred
+on Nick.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point
+of view in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have
+trusted him the instant I learned that he was a slave."</p>
+<p>"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the
+slaves wish to be free."</p>
+<p>"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has
+independence of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at
+night between two hostile armies, wishes to be free."</p>
+<p>"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think,
+that at the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can
+now."</p>
+<p>This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed,
+"Father, Mr. Berwick needs rest."</p>
+<p>"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of.
+Let me fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then
+he can sleep the sleep of the just."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."</p>
+<p>"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that
+the just live forever."</p>
+<p>"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did
+live."</p>
+<p>"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said
+"slaveholders."</p>
+<p>"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels,
+that is, after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion
+becomes unnecessary."</p>
+<p>"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war,
+are necessary?"</p>
+<p>"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the
+Doctor; "rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to
+usurped authority is always right."</p>
+<p>"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked
+languidly.</p>
+<p>"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."</p>
+<p>"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only
+making him sleepy."</p>
+<p>Lydia retired.</p>
+<p>I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He
+continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but
+I warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for
+to-morrow. By the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your
+regiment is expected on the tenth."</p>
+<p>"Glad to hear it, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them
+that I saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of
+course."</p>
+<p>"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"What is that?"</p>
+<p>"The map we have is incorrect."</p>
+<p>"How so?"</p>
+<p>"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."</p>
+<p>"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep,
+and it cannot be turned on the James River side except by the
+fleet."</p>
+<p>"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing
+nothing, and probably will do nothing until the <i>Merrimac</i> is
+disposed of."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"</p>
+<p>"By this and that," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.</p>
+<p>"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our
+troops should have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."</p>
+<p>"Do you object?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I
+should have done I don't well see."</p>
+<p>"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been
+compelled to wait till night to make a start."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and
+faster than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before
+sleep overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head
+looked alive, and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and
+half hid the Doctor's face were not mere forms that would dissipate
+and be no more; they seemed living beings--servants attendant on
+their master's will.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote
+some letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news
+that Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a
+siege instead of a battle.</p>
+<p>"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by
+assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for
+re&euml;nforcements, there will be nothing to prevent the
+Confederates from being re&euml;nforced; so mote it be."</p>
+<p>"What! You are not impatient?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not."</p>
+<p>"And you are willing for the enemy to be re&euml;nforced?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will
+end."</p>
+<p>"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he
+is likely to lose much time now."</p>
+<p>"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."</p>
+<p>"All the time there is! that means eternity."</p>
+<p>"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."</p>
+<p>"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.</p>
+<p>"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will
+happen in that time."</p>
+<p>"To McClellan?"</p>
+<p>"Why not to McClellan? To all."</p>
+<p>"Everything is a big word, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"No bigger than eternity."</p>
+<p>"And McClellan will win and will lose?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that
+everything will happen."</p>
+<p>"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the
+conditions necessary to cause everything to come to pass."</p>
+<p>"The rebels will win and the North will win?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will
+happen."</p>
+<p>"You surely are a strange puzzle."</p>
+<p>"I give myself enough time, do I not?"</p>
+<p>"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."</p>
+<p>"The contradiction is only seeming."</p>
+<p>"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull
+Run?"</p>
+<p>"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but
+the defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by
+saying both North and South will win, you surely know; it is that
+the divine purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end
+and accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present
+wicked strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the
+people of both sections wants will come; what they want they fight
+for; but it would have come without war, as I was about to tell you
+last night, when you interrupted me by going to sleep."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how
+rebellion could exist and not bring war."</p>
+<p>"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.</p>
+<p>"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in
+two senses," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to
+give it."</p>
+<p>"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."</p>
+<p>"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall
+proceed to punish you."</p>
+<p>"By refusing me?"</p>
+<p>"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does
+not necessarily bring war?"</p>
+<p>"That is the postulate," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Then, first, what is rebellion?"</p>
+<p>"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a
+definition, "rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or
+state, to the legalized government of the nation or state."</p>
+<p>"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see
+if there have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you
+say of Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"</p>
+<p>"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a
+stop to it."</p>
+<p>"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you
+say of Monk?"</p>
+<p>"What Monk?"</p>
+<p>"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the
+Second."</p>
+<p>"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a
+rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."</p>
+<p>"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"</p>
+<p>"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does
+not bring war when, the other party won't fight."</p>
+<p>"But it is wrong to fight," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.</p>
+<p>"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending
+is that every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England
+have been wiser if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies?
+Suppose the principle of peace were cherished: the ideas that would
+otherwise cause rebellion would be patiently tested; the men of new
+or opposite ideas would no longer be rebels; they would be
+statesmen; a rebellion would be accepted, tried, and defeated by a
+counter rebellion, both peaceable. It is simply leaving things to
+the will of the majority. Right ideas will win, no matter what the
+opposition to them. Better change the arena of conflict. A single
+champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter and prove his
+hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same thing on
+a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and I
+have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or
+rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you
+Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you
+proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of
+them are left to think fatally; but they <i>will</i> think, and
+your killing them will not prove your ideas right."</p>
+<p>"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know
+that is what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I
+asked, thinking to touch a tender spot.</p>
+<p>"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many
+a Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea
+would have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once;
+but the idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with
+the South knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge
+concerning principle was involved, instead of massacre according to
+the John Brown idiocy, a great amelioration in the condition of the
+slave would have begun immediately. The South, would have gradually
+liberated the slaves."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from
+perfection."</p>
+<p>"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to
+have ideals, and strive to reach them."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship
+Point, and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the
+next day I rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me
+coming. The good fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and
+generous. We soon went off for a private chat.</p>
+<p>"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he
+asked.</p>
+<p>"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp
+was never moved once; what have you been doing?"</p>
+<p>"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to
+come. Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"</p>
+<p>"What new drill?"</p>
+<p>"Hardee."</p>
+<p>"You don't say!"</p>
+<p>"Fact. Whole division."</p>
+<p>"Do you like it better?"</p>
+<p>"Believe I do."</p>
+<p>"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough
+to do of another sort."</p>
+<p>Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the
+manual of arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is
+carried in the right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted
+for Scott's, which provides for the shoulder on the left side.
+There was no actual drill, however, and my clumsy
+performance--clumsy compared with that of the other men of the
+company who had become accustomed to the change--was limited to but
+little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants because of my
+inexperience.</p>
+<p>I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not
+expect him to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of
+her; and I did not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him
+information concerning the young lady. He asked me about Dr.
+Khayme, however, and thus gave me the chance to let him know that
+the Doctor himself would move his quarters to the rear of our
+lines, but that his daughter would remain at the hospital at
+Newport News until the army should advance beyond Yorktown.</p>
+<p>And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of
+Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and
+frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost
+every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on
+the picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood
+the hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have
+endured much more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been
+completely upset; he had said that we should take Yorktown in a
+week and pursue the routed rebels into Richmond, and now we were
+doing but little--so far as we could see--to bring matters to a
+conclusion. The artillery of the rebels played on our lines; and
+our guns replied; the pickets, too, were frequently busy popping
+away at each other, and occasionally hitting their marks. Ever
+since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great quantities of
+lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though Dr. Khayme
+maintained that the waste became a crime when men were killed,--I
+have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words
+"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles,
+and about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than
+could be set down in a column of figures as long as the equator.
+From April 13 to May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac
+before Yorktown did not reach half of one per cent. The men learned
+speedily to dodge shells, and I remember hearing one man say that
+he dodged a bullet. He saw a black spot seemingly stationary, and
+knew at once that the thing was coming in a straight line for his
+eye. The story was swallowed, but I think nobody believed it,
+except the hero thereof, who was a good soldier, however, and
+ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who is supremely
+interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my part, it
+was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired one. I
+dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a
+cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under
+cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing
+sometimes to hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way,"
+at the smoke of a gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no
+sound of a shell would follow, the missile having gone into the
+woods half a mile to our right or left.</p>
+<p>I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had
+in its ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant,
+I never saw him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead
+a picket squad into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the
+skirmish detail in place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and
+laugh, and swear, in everything he was simply superb. That I do not
+quote his cuss-words must not be taken as an indication, that they
+were commonplace. Everything he did he did with his might, almost
+violently. He was a good shot, too, within the range of the
+smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of them--seemed to be better
+armed than we were; it was said that they had received some cargoes
+of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range, according to the
+marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by blockade-runners.
+They could keep us down behind the pits while they would walk about
+as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries was flung
+at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been
+studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over
+the fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his
+temper got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one
+day when he was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit;
+Willis's bullet would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the
+Enfield Mini&eacute; ball would go a-kiting over our heads and
+making men far to our rear look out. Sometimes Willis was very
+gloomy, and I attributed this condition to his passion for Lydia,
+though, on such a subject he never opened his mouth to me.</p>
+<p>One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I
+were both on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty,
+and Willis was the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been
+skirmishing on this part of the line the preceding day, but at
+sunset, or the hour for sunset if the weather had been fair, the
+firing had ceased as we marched up and relieved the old pickets. We
+were in the woods, the most of us, but just here, on the right of
+our own detail, there were a few rifle-pits in the open, the
+opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four hundred yards apart,
+and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at night--being
+about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always composed of
+three men for each post. We found our three men numb with, cold,
+two lying near the edge o&pound; the woods, in a big hole made by a
+shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard
+nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds
+reflected the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long
+till day. The two men, my companions on post, whispered together,
+and then proposed that I should take the first watch. Willis had
+returned to the line with the relieved vedettes. I had no
+objection to taking the first watch, yet I hesitated, simply
+because the two men had whispered. I fancied there was some reason
+for the request, and I asked bluntly why they had decided it was my
+turn without giving me a voice in the matter. You know it is the
+custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man volunteers
+for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends, and
+that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from
+various companies, they preferred lying together.</p>
+<p>This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason
+that in two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and
+they lay down in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle,
+for fear of some sudden volley from the rebels.</p>
+<p>The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the
+left oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near
+to a tree which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy
+pine of second growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with
+its limbs starting from the trunk as low as eight feet from the
+ground. I stood near this tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our
+nearest vedette posts, right and left, were a hundred yards from
+me--the one on the left being in the woods, that on the right in
+the open. The country called the Peninsula is low and flat and very
+swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of rain that had now
+fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a loblolly, to
+use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about thirty
+yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it was
+possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this
+ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture
+us; such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by
+the rebels, but by many other people at war.</p>
+<p>Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line
+about three hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette
+posts nobody knew where, for they used similar economy to ours in
+withdrawing their vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of
+which I can but barely mention, had opened my eyes a little to the
+possibility of accurate inferences, that is to say, his philosophy
+of cause and effect, or purpose, as he liked better to call it, had
+been urged upon me so frequently and so profoundly that I had
+become more observant; he had made me think of the relations of
+things. Philosophy, he had said, should be carried into everyday
+life and into the smallest matters; that was what made a good
+fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a good soldier,
+provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This ravine,
+then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented
+opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods,
+make prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there
+would be a gap through which our skirmish line might be
+surprised.</p>
+<p>I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood
+near the ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the
+darkness. It did not extend into the forest, for the roots of the
+trees there protected the soil from washing away. The undergrowth
+at my left was not very dense; I judged that in daylight one could
+see into the forest a hundred yards or more. At my right, the gully
+began and seemed to widen and deepen as it went, but nothing
+definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.</p>
+<p>My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was
+really transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more
+forward place but thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in
+less than a minute.</p>
+<p>The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my
+short absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I
+would not like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt
+that I had done right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically
+speaking, but only to take a proper precaution, in regard to the
+post itself. Then, what is a man's post? Merely the ground with
+which the soles of his feet are in touch? If he may move an inch,
+how far may he move? Yet I was glad that the men had not seen me
+move and come back, and I was glad, too, that they had made the
+proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had discovered
+danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now for
+one of these men to take my place.</p>
+<p>My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious
+of any new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do
+something.</p>
+<p>I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.</p>
+<p>"Who stands watch next?"</p>
+<p>"Me. But it's not time yet."</p>
+<p>"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back
+to the line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a
+minute."</p>
+<p>"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."</p>
+<p>"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said
+I.</p>
+<p>The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said,
+"What is it you say I'm to tell him?"</p>
+<p>The other man also had risen.</p>
+<p>"Only that I want to see him."</p>
+<p>"Anything wrong?"</p>
+<p>"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is
+all."</p>
+<p>The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become
+alarmed, perhaps.</p>
+<p>When Willis came I was under the tree.</p>
+<p>"What's up, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."</p>
+<p>"It's a gully," says he.</p>
+<p>"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our
+post ought to be where we can see into it."</p>
+<p>"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."</p>
+<p>I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any
+intimation to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were
+standing near me.</p>
+<p>In two minutes Willis returned.</p>
+<p>"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where
+you are."</p>
+<p>We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the
+ravine.</p>
+<p>"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to
+be here."</p>
+<p>"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise
+us. This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."</p>
+<p>The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
+thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.</p>
+<p>"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know
+what that noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."</p>
+<p>"Let's have it."</p>
+<p>"We can get lots of fun out here."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"</p>
+<p>"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a
+word to them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be
+mum now, old man."</p>
+<p>"Tell me what you mean."</p>
+<p>But he had already started back.</p>
+<p>It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking;
+yet the weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I
+knew that in all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would
+prolong the duty of the vedettes and make another relief
+necessary.</p>
+<p>When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good
+men of Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on
+back to the line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."</p>
+<p>When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way
+back a short distance and into the edge of the woods.</p>
+<p>"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine.
+We want to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or
+something to screen them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so
+beyond the gully till I whistle for you, or call you. The rest of
+us will do the work while you watch."</p>
+<p>The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear
+enough. One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that
+others seemed to have come up in no light marching order. Willis
+meant to occupy the ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in
+this advanced post, so near the rebels that his bullets would not
+fall short. It was all clear enough.</p>
+<p>The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing
+Thompson, I skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or
+forty yards to my right oblique in the open, and then lay flat,
+with my eyes to the front. Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me;
+the men were filling the sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck
+became stiff. No sound reached me from the front; I supposed that
+the nearest rebel vedette was not nearer than two hundred yards,
+unless at a point more advanced from his lines there was some
+natural protection for him. But what prevented my being surprised
+from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened my neck; light
+was beginning to show.</p>
+<p>At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call
+twice. The ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself
+almost impregnable against an equal force of skirmishers. Just
+where an angle in the western edge presented a flank of wall toward
+the north, Willis and his gang had cut away the earth into a shelf
+some three feet beneath the top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth
+surmounted the summit, with open spaces between, in order that a
+musket might be fired through, these handy port-holes, and the
+sand-bags were covered with sedge from the open field. I
+congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.</p>
+<p>The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could
+yet see neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and
+reserved the centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be
+about two feet nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was
+manned by Freeman, Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.</p>
+<p>"Men, attention!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Take the caps off of your pieces!"</p>
+<p>The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis
+condescended to explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as
+Act First; that any man who should yield to the temptation to fire
+without orders, was to be sent back to the line at once.</p>
+<p>Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a
+bullet whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel
+side.</p>
+<p>"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>Everybody had rushed to his place.</p>
+<p>"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.</p>
+<p>We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.</p>
+<p>"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.</p>
+<p>The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.</p>
+<p>"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.</p>
+<p>Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line
+in the rear.</p>
+<p>The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from
+one to another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our
+heads from the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade
+from both sides continued.</p>
+<p>Willis was at the parapet.</p>
+<p>"Look out!" he cries.</p>
+<p>A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets
+from the rebels.</p>
+<p>"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible
+three hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits.
+Our skirmish line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired
+not at us but at our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had
+been but the supplement of the artillery fire--all for the purpose
+of getting full command of our line, on which not a man now dared
+to show his head, for a dozen Mini&eacute; balls would go for it at
+the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had not detected our little
+squad.</p>
+<p>"Prime, men!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>The guns were capped.</p>
+<p>"Now, hold your fire till the word!"</p>
+<p>Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all
+their own way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their
+waists could be seen; some of them began to walk about a little,
+for they were not in any sort of danger, that is, from our line.
+They were firing with a system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then
+in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and so on down their line, merely to
+keep the advantage they had gained. At irregular intervals two or
+three shots would be sent at some dummy--a hat or coat held up by
+the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.</p>
+<p>"<i>Ready!</i>" says Willis.</p>
+<p>Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another
+joined them.</p>
+<p>"<i>Aim! Fire!</i>"</p>
+<p>Five triggers were pulled.</p>
+<p>"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable
+oath, than any I ever saw in print.</p>
+<p>The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my
+way; I had been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly
+see anything. Put yourself in a hole, and raise your head until
+your eyes are an inch, or two above the surface of ground almost
+level--what can you see? But for a slight depression between us and
+the rebels, the position would have been worthless; yet every evil,
+according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or good side--our fortress
+was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it, if they saw it at
+all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective mingling our
+small elevation with the greater ones beyond.</p>
+<p>We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight
+feet deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a
+rattle of firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had
+taken advantage of the diversion brought, and had turned the
+tables; not a shot was coming from the front.</p>
+<p>Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight,"
+he said.</p>
+<p>Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were
+doing nothing, and were nervously expectant.</p>
+<p>Holt wished for a pack of cards.</p>
+<p>A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a
+gang of rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were
+but sixty yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line
+could protect us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of
+'em before they could git to us." To this Thompson replied that if
+the rebels should again get the upper hand, and make our men afraid
+to show their heads, the rebels could come on us from the woods
+without great danger. Willis admitted that Thompson had reason, but
+did not think the rebels had yet found us out; at any rate, they
+would be afraid to come so near our strong skirmish-line; so for
+his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the right was the place
+of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the rebels might
+sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we were
+here.</p>
+<p>Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the
+front was heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us
+became silent.</p>
+<p>We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its
+port-hole.</p>
+<p>"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have
+another chance like that. Take it in order from right to left.
+Berwick first. Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a
+head--"</p>
+<p>I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that
+my shot missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides
+pegged away for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his
+man.</p>
+<p>Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of
+the bags between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and
+into the wall of the ravine behind us. Willis fired.</p>
+<p>"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."</p>
+<p>Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and
+then Freeman, and it became my turn again.</p>
+<p>That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and
+buried itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not
+believe that an ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted
+whether an Enfield had it. The rebels were getting good arms from
+England. It might be that some man over there had a Whitworth
+telescope rifle; if so he had detected us perhaps--a telescope
+would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this speculation, but
+watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a man as low as
+his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag was
+struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
+which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
+bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the
+wall of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.</p>
+<p>"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.</p>
+<p>"I'll report directly, Sergeant."</p>
+<p>I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a
+long, leaden cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than
+calibre 45 I guessed. This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to
+Willis; he understood.</p>
+<p>"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."</p>
+<p>The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth
+over there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers
+where we were posted; then we should be a target for their whole
+line, and at three hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our
+sand-bags and make us lie low.</p>
+<p>Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched
+on the cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated,
+the others fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.</p>
+<p>Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our
+fun.</p>
+<p>Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that
+we had done more damage than we had received, and should receive;
+that all we had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm
+should pass; the rebels would think that we were gone and would
+cease wasting their ammunition; then we could have more fun.</p>
+<p>Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so
+said Thompson, and so said Freeman.</p>
+<p>My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this
+moment retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge
+of the woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not
+killed; it was doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for
+the rebels, if they had any sense, were prepared to see us run out,
+and would throw a hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again
+get the upper hand of the rebels, then we could get out easily; if
+not, we must stay here till night. We had done all that could be
+done--had done well, and we must not risk loss without a purpose;
+we must protect ourselves; let the rebels waste their powder--the
+more they wasted, the better. The only real danger was that the
+rebels might advance; but even if they did, they could not get at
+us without coming to blows with our line--the ravine protected our
+line from their charge. It was our business to stay where we were
+and to keep a sharp lookout.</p>
+<p>So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we
+should keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at
+the bottom of the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.</p>
+<p>The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below
+the level of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to
+the porthole. Freeman began, taking off his coat.</p>
+<p>"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.</p>
+<p>"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.</p>
+<p>He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat
+above on a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards,
+faced us, raised his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was
+the first dummy that the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at
+any rate their whole force was at once busy; the fire rolled from
+left to right far down the line, yet when Freeman examined his
+garments he found that neither hat nor coat had been struck.</p>
+<p>"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want
+to."</p>
+<p>Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must
+make some effort to keep awake.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a
+little, and see what's there."</p>
+<p>"All right, Jones; but don't go far."</p>
+<p>I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward
+our line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned
+toward the left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the
+left, running for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running
+straight toward the rebels. I came back and reported.</p>
+<p>"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We
+must keep two sentinels on post now."</p>
+<p>Thompson was posted at the bend.</p>
+<p>It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the
+gully; they could not know how small was our force; if they should
+march a company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to
+capture by a sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable,
+however, that a few men would try to sneak up in order to see how
+many we were; yet even this supposition was not necessary, for the
+rebels were having everything their own way, and need risk nothing.
+So I decided in my own mind to be as patient as possible until
+dark.</p>
+<p>The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional
+Whitworth bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we
+could not hear the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer
+seen. What were they planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could
+find a means for communicating with our friends in the rear; if
+they would open fire again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was
+best to be quiet until dark.</p>
+<p>I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at
+the bend. Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot;
+our game had been blocked. The notion now came to me that if the
+rebels wanted us, the way to get us would be to send men up the
+ravine just before dark, and at the same time for a squad of them
+to steal through the woods to our left, where they would be ready
+for us when we should steal out.</p>
+<p>"Sergeant!"</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"Think we'd better get back."</p>
+<p>"What's the matter now?"</p>
+<p>"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."</p>
+<p>"Fact, by--!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here
+to tell you how to do it."</p>
+<p>"Le's have it," says Willis.</p>
+<p>"Make a big smoke!"</p>
+<p>Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt,
+down at the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the
+ravine. Our knives and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big
+heap of green boughs and sprigs. It would take work to touch her
+off, for there was no dry wood; but we managed by finding the
+remains of cartridge papers and using a free supply of gunpowder.
+When all was ready, Holt was recalled, and the match was
+struck.</p>
+<p>"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a
+partin' salute."</p>
+<p>The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately
+peeping to the front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At
+last she caught, and a thin column of black smoke began to
+ascend.</p>
+<p>"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up
+to."</p>
+<p>A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us,
+or by us at them.</p>
+<p>The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it
+away from the woods.</p>
+<p>"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.</p>
+<p>But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort
+Willis should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention
+had been so fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the
+universe had become a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder
+almost overhead startled the defenders of the redoubt. Without our
+knowledge a storm had rolled up from the Atlantic; the rain was
+beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops, already obscuring our
+vision.</p>
+<p>"<i>Fire!</i>" shouted Willis.</p>
+<p>The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to
+the skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's
+making.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XII"></a>XII</h2>
+<h3>MORE ACTIVE SERVICE</h3>
+<center>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"Do but start<br>
+An echo with the clamour of thy drum,<br>
+And even at hand a drum is ready braced<br>
+That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were
+heard in the direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the
+light of great fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be
+ready to march, but the morning wore away, and it was almost two
+o'clock before the long roll beat. At length we moved with the
+column, already unnerved by long-continued expectation, westward
+upon the Williamsburg road.</p>
+<p>Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told
+you so."</p>
+<p>Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he
+kept on predicting till the rain came.</p>
+<p>The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up
+by the retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of
+us.</p>
+<p>Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had
+come into our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking
+our way. We rested. About dark our head of column was turned back
+and we countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted
+again, where, I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn
+out when orders were given that the men should lie on their arms,
+but that they should otherwise make themselves as comfortable as
+they could. Rain was falling, the night was black, comfort was
+impossible. I suppose I got two or three hours' sleep. At daylight
+the march was again taken up; in an hour or two we halted and
+formed line with skirmishers in front; it was still raining.</p>
+<p>We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank,
+through the woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers
+deployed in advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets
+flew amongst us. We continued to advance until we reached the edge
+of the woods; the line had not yet fired a shot.</p>
+<p>The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we
+became visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the
+timber at our ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We
+lay there for something like two hours; then we moved to the
+rear,--only our regiment, I think,--fronted again, and marched to
+the right for perhaps a mile through the woods. Willis said that we
+were seeking any enemy that might be in the woods; but he aroused
+no interest; nobody either approved or seemed to doubt Willis's
+interpretation of the movement; we did not know what the generals
+were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and hungry and
+wet.</p>
+<p>By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position
+near the felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile
+batteries to fire upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the
+rear. I noticed that our company seemed small; perhaps a few had
+been wounded; certainly many had fallen out of ranks, unable longer
+to endure.</p>
+<p>About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time
+through the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the
+roar of musketry ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen
+running in every direction except one. We moved on in line, without
+skirmishers. The straggling men increased in numbers, and many
+wounded went past us, the ambulance corps working busily here in
+the dense wet forest. The yells of the rebels were plainly heard,
+and all eyes were strained to catch sight of what was already but
+too well known. Every moment was an hour.</p>
+<p>Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line
+staggered to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as
+he could--firing at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could
+be heard in the smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution
+in our own strife, there could be faintly heard the noise of battle
+to our right, far and near to our right.</p>
+<p>Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to
+the left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers
+cried, "They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that
+line, men! They are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in
+convincing most of us that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are
+flanked!" "Look out!" "Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the
+whole crowd of us were running with all our legs. I reached a road
+that ran across the line of my flight; it was full of everything:
+troops in good order, stragglers breaking through them, wounded
+lying down, dead flat on their backs, artillery horses in their
+traces, ambulances.</p>
+<p>So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops
+had relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and
+the battle soon ended on the whole line.</p>
+<p>With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the
+woods; the rain kept on.</p>
+<p>I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered
+a victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we
+had won it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the
+battle. The rebels fought this partial engagement only for the
+purpose, I think, of securing the retreat of their army and trains;
+we fought for the purpose of preventing the retreat. I have learned
+that our right wing had better success than we had on the left; but
+for all that, the enemy got away unbroken, and his purpose was
+accomplished. In the days of those early battles, even the falling
+back of the rebel pickets before a line of our skirmishers was
+telegraphed to Washington as a victory.</p>
+<p>We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small.
+Willis's remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring
+much comfort; even his assertion, that they would again retreat and
+that the morning would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm.
+The men were dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought
+hard and had endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they
+were physically exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody
+had blundered in putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place.
+I have always been proud that none of our men deserted on the night
+of the Williamsburg battle.</p>
+<p>No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down.
+My gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top;
+this was our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and
+gum-blanket. The night was warm enough, and our covering was needed
+only as some protection against the rain. I was soon asleep, but
+awake again as soon. About ten o'clock I felt a hand on my
+shoulder. Rising, I saw our orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by
+him. I was ordered to report at General Grover's headquarters. The
+general had sent an orderly, who could not or would not tell why I
+was wanted.</p>
+<p>General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers,
+surrounding a dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a
+large tree; horses were tied near by to the branches of trees.</p>
+<p>The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.</p>
+<p>The general came toward me; I saluted.</p>
+<p>"Your name," said he.</p>
+<p>"Private Jones Berwick."</p>
+<p>"Your regiment."</p>
+<p>"Eleventh."</p>
+<p>"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."</p>
+<p>I bowed.</p>
+<p>"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"</p>
+<p>"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after
+danger," said I.</p>
+<p>"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."</p>
+<p>He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers
+scattering.</p>
+<p>"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must
+send a man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."</p>
+<p>"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going
+should not be allowed to go."</p>
+<p>"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me
+decline."</p>
+<p>"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall
+lose nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do
+your duty well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."</p>
+<p>"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let
+me show you."</p>
+<p>He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an
+officer stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and
+placed the lantern near the blanket.</p>
+<p>"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.</p>
+<p>The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on
+the blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.</p>
+<p>"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil;
+"you see our line here, running north and south."</p>
+<p>"Which is north?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over
+here, or were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this
+branch, in part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get
+across the branch, and go on through the woods until you come to
+this road, which you see running north and south. You need not go
+across this road. All I want you to do is to observe this road
+until day."</p>
+<p>"Is the road in the woods, General?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble
+whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the
+road," said he.</p>
+<p>"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall
+I do?"</p>
+<p>"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their
+vedettes near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to
+the road. If they are on this side of the road, but so near the
+road that you can observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with
+as little risk to yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on
+the road, you must come back to the picket-line and report, and
+then return to your post of observation."</p>
+<p>"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and
+our picket-line?"</p>
+<p>"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to
+supply one."</p>
+<p>"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this
+side of the road."</p>
+<p>"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night.
+Take your own way to do it, but the road must be observed."</p>
+<p>"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"</p>
+<p>"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred
+yards," said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of
+paper."</p>
+<p>"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the
+other brigades, General?"</p>
+<p>"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will
+hardly find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do
+our duty for us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision
+such as you speak of."</p>
+<p>"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"</p>
+<p>"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you
+through. I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."</p>
+<p>"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't
+find you when I get back."</p>
+<p>"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get
+back to us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that
+relieve them about you."</p>
+<p>"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through
+the other man. Is everything clear to you now?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General; I think so."</p>
+<p>"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten
+minutes."</p>
+<p>I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed,
+and I was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as
+much consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that
+I should run against one of them in the darkness. I put my
+gum-blanket over me, committed my knapsack and other things to
+Willis's keeping; and was back with the general.</p>
+<p>We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the
+general had shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief
+conversation took place between the general and Captain Brown of
+the picket-line. The captain chose a man, and told him to follow me
+and to obey my orders.</p>
+<p>Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of
+yourself, my man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you
+report any movement on that road." I began to assure him that I
+would do all that I could, but I found that he had already started
+back to the brigade.</p>
+<p>I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when
+I should return. The low call went right and left along the
+line,--"Two of our men going to the front!"</p>
+<p>"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.</p>
+<p>"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are
+only thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour
+ago."</p>
+<p>I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern,
+which his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or
+more, that the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two
+men to every five paces, and that every man was standing in his
+place, gun in hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their
+faces to the front. There were no picket fires.</p>
+<p>"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"</p>
+<p>"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new
+men in half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for
+such duty. The new men will be advised that you are still in front.
+Are you ready?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Come."</p>
+<p>The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the
+detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The
+captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to
+the picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I
+say observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch
+it. I asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the
+picket-line; while he was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette.
+He had heard nothing in his front, except that now and then there
+seemed to come to him, from far away, an indistinct rumble; he had
+seen nothing in the black night except trees but little blacker.
+The rain was a thick drizzle.</p>
+<p>I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard
+anything in his front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the
+vedettes had orders not to fire, but to retire at once on the
+picket-line in case of a silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar
+order, which at a later time I heard given again under somewhat
+similar circumstances, was no doubt a wise one. A secret advance of
+the enemy's skirmishers would have been precipitated into a charge
+by the fire of the vedette, whereas his secret retreat to his line
+would prepare the pickets to surprise the surprisers.</p>
+<p>And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods
+were so dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to
+see ahead of me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I
+supposed that the branch which I was to cross was but a very short
+distance in front. I had no fear that I should find enemies this
+side of the branch; the great probability was that their vedettes
+were posted on the farther bank of the stream. When I had gone not
+more than thirty yards, I felt that the ground sloped downward
+before me, and I judged that the branch was very near. I paused.
+There was not a sound except that made by the fall of heavy drops
+of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes, trying
+to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could
+not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a
+low whisper if he could see at all.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you
+stand."</p>
+<p>I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that
+the branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little
+more light. He whispered back that there was, he thought, more
+light in our front than there had been before. I now tried to
+discern this new light, and could not at first, but after a little
+while it did seem to me that just ahead there was a dim gray
+streak.</p>
+<p>I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and
+I felt my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a
+step back, and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward,
+holding Allen's hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to
+do so. We went back again, some three steps, until I was out of the
+water.</p>
+<p>Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were
+hand-in-hand. He whispered, "It is ten steps wide."</p>
+<p>"Can you see across it?"</p>
+<p>"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."</p>
+<p>In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt
+myself in a more critical place. The opposite side of the branch
+was an ideal position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be
+there if anywhere in these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might
+have neglected their opportunity; besides, their line might be bent
+back here; their vedettes might be on the branch farther to our
+right, and <i>here</i> might be anywhere in its rear; we did not
+know where the rebel right rested. Of one thing I felt sure--the
+rebels did not intend to advance on this night, for in that case
+they would have had their vedettes, and their pickets also, if
+possible, on our side of the branch.</p>
+<p>The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If
+vedettes were on it, it was just within the possible that I might
+pass between two of them.</p>
+<p>I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one,
+which he put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat,
+lest my foot should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused
+utter failure, if not our capture.</p>
+<p>We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the
+stick seemed to sink into soft mud.</p>
+<p>I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to
+my knees in water.</p>
+<p>I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.</p>
+<p>Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under
+my feet. I thought I had reached the middle.</p>
+<p>I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same
+monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.</p>
+<p>We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed
+steep. By feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed
+Allen's hand from my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the
+water below me.</p>
+<p>I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily
+tell that there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be
+surrounded by a dense, low thicket. What was in this thicket?
+Likely the rebel vedettes and pickets.</p>
+<p>My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel
+the smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying
+there, but not entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the
+splintered middle of the tree, still holding. I at once knew that I
+was in the midst of felled timber,--on the edge of a slashing or
+entanglement.</p>
+<p>Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely,
+unless there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the
+strip of timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just
+in rear of it; perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the
+branch, and in order to impede and expose to hearing any enemy that
+might succeed in crossing the branch. But, in that case, would not
+the timber be a protection rather than a hindrance to the enemy
+advancing or stealing forward? Yes, unless the vedettes were just
+in rear of this very narrow strip, or unless the rebel
+intrenchments were in easy musket range.</p>
+<p>These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with
+Allen below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber
+there might be capture, or death, or there might be no danger
+whatever. I was beginning to hope that there was no vedette or
+picket-line in these woods.</p>
+<p>Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward;
+after having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused
+and listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and,
+giving him my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went
+forward until I supposed we were near the spot to which I had
+previously advanced. Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept
+on again, and again returned to him; then both went forward as
+before. On this second stage of our approach we passed through to
+the farther side of the felled timber.</p>
+<p>We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every
+moment lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's
+works ought to be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis
+without intrenchments was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to
+find the intrenchments deserted.</p>
+<p>The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We
+had used up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of
+less than two hundred yards.</p>
+<p>I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with
+Allen forward--until at length I reached a road running across my
+line of progress.</p>
+<p>After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down
+on my hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell
+with my hands that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I
+supposed were horses' tracks, but it was impossible for me to know
+which way the tracks headed.</p>
+<p>Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or
+forty yards, and found nothing.</p>
+<p>Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do
+you think that skirt of felled timber means?"</p>
+<p>"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.</p>
+<p>"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there
+is nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel
+left in these woods."</p>
+<p>"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
+fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."</p>
+<p>"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough
+its purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being
+seen."</p>
+<p>"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."</p>
+<p>I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the
+approach to a rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear
+many noises. The only thing I now feared was some scouting
+party.</p>
+<p>It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired
+upon, I decided that we must learn which way the movement on the
+road had been. I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a
+match near the ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked
+with all our eyes, moving the match back and forth over the road.
+The tracks all headed to our right.</p>
+<p>Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the
+road.</p>
+<p>"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."</p>
+<p>"Where are you going?"</p>
+<p>"Through the woods."</p>
+<p>"How long will you be gone?"</p>
+<p>"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you
+must return to the pickets and report that there has already been a
+considerable movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I
+feel certain that there are no rebels in these woods. They were
+here, but they have gone. I want to get to the open ground and see
+what is there; it will not take long."</p>
+<p>"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this
+spot," said he.</p>
+<p>"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is
+nobody in these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."</p>
+<p>"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are
+better than one."</p>
+<p>"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to
+both of us out there, and neither of us be able to report to
+General Grover. Stay where you are."</p>
+<p>I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be
+able to turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods
+became more open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see
+much better. I reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few
+stars were shining between broken clouds near the horizon in front
+of me--west, I thought. Toward the north, and northwest the clouds
+reflected some distant light, and had a reddish glow. I could
+distinctly hear the sounds of great movements, the rumblings of
+wagon, trains or artillery. The ground seemed open before me for a
+long distance.</p>
+<p>I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet
+me.</p>
+<p>"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over.
+Go back to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General
+Grover that the road shows clearly that the rebels have already
+moved along it to their left, our right; and that there is nobody
+here, all gone; gone to our right, their left, and that I have been
+entirely through the woods, and have found nothing, but that to the
+northwest there are the sounds of great movements, and that I am
+going to see if I cannot find out more."</p>
+<p>"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I
+doubt if I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear
+in this place."</p>
+<p>Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two
+o'clock, I thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about
+me. I passed rapidly through the woods again and into the open
+ground, climbing a rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that
+rose before me, an "old field," or abandoned farm, which was
+scattered over here and there with clumps of stunted growth. Once I
+paused in terror. A bush had taken, to my fancy, the form of a man.
+The illusion lasted but for a moment.</p>
+<p>When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could
+see many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them
+stationary. The sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear
+shouts, like those of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch
+the command to close up.</p>
+<p>I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was
+difficult to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red
+glare I could distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were
+rebels in line before me, I should be able to see them before they
+could see me, so I went on without great fear, and crept to the top
+of this second swell of the ground.</p>
+<p>Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating.
+The road was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires
+were burning on both sides of the road; men and wagons were
+hurrying westward. Almost in front of me was a cluster of houses,
+which I took to be Williamsburg; fires were burning in the streets;
+a great throng was passing on west between the fires and between
+the houses. I had little doubt that I could mingle, without great
+danger, with the rebels, seeing that my gum-blanket would hide my
+uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought was rejected,
+however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew enough
+already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than I
+now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly
+delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried
+toward our pickets.</p>
+<p>When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had
+been advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made
+my report to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who
+mounted and rode off in haste.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was
+Willis. Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis
+was bubbling over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a
+high horse; the rebels would make no further stand until they
+reached Richmond; he doubted if they would attempt to defend
+Richmond, even. His spirits were contagious; he did good although
+he was ludicrous. What would Dr. Khayme have said of Willis's
+influence? I supposed that the Doctor would have used the sergeant
+as an illustration of his doctrine that there is nothing
+unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.</p>
+<p>The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but
+a short distance, and bivouacked.</p>
+<p>About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to
+Colonel Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had
+never before been individually in his presence. I wondered what it
+meant, and hastened to his headquarters.</p>
+<p>I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.</p>
+<p>"You are Private Berwick?" he said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"What have you been doing?"</p>
+<p>"In what respect, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff,
+but his eye and mouth belied his voice.</p>
+<p>"Here," said he; "take this and read it."</p>
+<p>I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D,
+Eleventh Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further
+orders, from duty with his company, and will hold himself ready for
+special service when ordered."</p>
+<p>This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by
+General Grover.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>XIII</h2>
+<br>
+<p>JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE</p>
+<center>"Take all the swift advantage of the
+hours."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I
+was again aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to
+the adjutant of the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of
+General Grover's order relieving me from regular duty--in fact had
+himself written the order by command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had
+been asked to issue it by our brigade commander. The adjutant also
+told me that I should still get rations through Company D, but that
+I was free to go and come when not on special duty, and that I was
+expected to keep him advised of my goings, so that I could be found
+when wanted. "For the rest," said he, "you will do much as you
+wish, especially when the brigade is in reserve, as it is to-day,
+and as it is likely to be for a good many days to come. Your
+services to be required at long intervals will make up, it is
+hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."</p>
+<p>I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on
+the right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the
+battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over
+which Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the
+rebels had here suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in
+places, although details of men had long been busy in burying the
+slain of both armies.</p>
+<p>At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed
+wrong more than once. No one was there except a white servant; he
+told me that the Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had
+been busy the whole of the preceding day and night in relieving the
+wounded; that he had taken no sleep at all. "I don't see how the
+Doctor stands what he goes through," said the man. "Yesterday the
+whole day long he was in the thick of it; he was in as great danger
+as the troops were; lots more than some of 'em. He said that the
+rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but for my part I wouldn't trust
+one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull by the tail; and him a
+tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."</p>
+<p>This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of
+danger. At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the
+wounded as they fell. I supposed that there was no use
+expostulating with a man who so firmly believed in the peculiar
+doctrines of his philosophy.</p>
+<p>About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.</p>
+<p>"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you
+think you are going to stay with me several days?"</p>
+<p>"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this
+side of the Chickahominy."</p>
+<p>"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.</p>
+<p>"You will know."</p>
+<p>"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"</p>
+<p>"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on
+special duty not to be demanded for some time."</p>
+<p>"You know about my case?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such
+arduous labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and
+his mental power were to me matters for astonishment equally
+great.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You
+need rest and sleep."</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I
+sleep; just now I want supper."</p>
+<p>After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a
+camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other
+man in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his
+eyes filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in
+perfect repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.</p>
+<p>I asked about Lydia.</p>
+<p>"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with
+me, but I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton
+until the army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do
+before you have any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for
+her yet."</p>
+<p>"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can
+come to me when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we
+shall not demand her services here. But now tell me all about your
+last night's experience."</p>
+<p>When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be
+called on to do more of such work."</p>
+<p>"I suppose so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you like it?"</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I
+shall not object if I can accomplish anything."</p>
+<p>"You have accomplished something each time that you have been
+sent out. You have at least furnished strong corroborative
+evidence, sufficiently strong to induce action on the part of your
+generals."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."</p>
+<p>"Are you sleepy?"</p>
+<p>"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the
+afternoon."</p>
+<p>"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given
+unto man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of
+last night you will incur little risk."</p>
+<p>"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you
+will be in less danger, and you will accomplish more."</p>
+<p>"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"You should always do such work unarmed."</p>
+<p>"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances
+only, and a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be
+silent."</p>
+<p>"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor;
+"you will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives
+will be safer from you."</p>
+<p>"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"</p>
+<p>"And be a spy, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not
+in them."</p>
+<p>"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message
+addressed:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;PRIVATE BERWICK,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>On detached service,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;At Sanitary Camp,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Rear of
+General Hancock's division</i>.</blockquote>
+<p>"Who gave you this?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a
+horseman with two horses."</p>
+<p>"Is he waiting?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity;
+the thought went through my mind that he already knew or
+suspected.</p>
+<p>There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which
+contained only the countersigns for the past five days, and an
+order from General Hooker.</p>
+<p>The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had
+influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I
+could merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read
+the order thoroughly three times, learned by heart the
+countersigns, impressed the map on my mind, and then destroyed the
+three papers in accordance with an express injunction comprised in
+the order itself. This mental work took some minutes, during which
+the Doctor sat impassive.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I must go."</p>
+<p>"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose
+you are on secret service."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor,"</p>
+<p>"Can I help in any way?"</p>
+<p>"Please let me have that gray suit."</p>
+<p>He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.</p>
+<p>"Anything else, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I shall need food."</p>
+<p>"How will you carry it?"</p>
+<p>"In my pockets. Bread will do."</p>
+<p>"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that
+you shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."</p>
+<p>He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or
+pocket; this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I
+wanted.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."</p>
+<p>"I am not in this army," he said.</p>
+<p>The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.</p>
+<p>"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to
+get back in two or three days."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was
+gone.</p>
+<p>Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."</p>
+<p>"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; I suppose not."</p>
+<p>"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and
+that I begin work at once."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and
+rode toward the east.</p>
+<p>My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to
+communicate with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought
+to have landed on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House
+for the purpose of cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The
+earliest possible delivery of my message was strenuously required,
+my orders even going so far as to include reasons for despatch. The
+retreating enemy were almost between us and Franklin, and he must
+be notified to attack and delay them at every hazard, and must be
+informed if possible by what road he should advance in order to cut
+off their retreat; it was added that, upon landing, General
+Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel army, and
+would depend upon information being brought to him by some one of
+the messengers sent him on this night.</p>
+<p>My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging
+from the map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the
+six miles in less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts
+I had no trouble.</p>
+<p>"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.</p>
+<p>"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.</p>
+<p>"Who is he?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know. Horse black."</p>
+<p>"Going fast?"</p>
+<p>"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' <i>to</i>
+hell, too, if he don't mind how he rides."</p>
+<p>It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty
+miles ahead of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that
+circumspection was worth more than haste--let the black horse go
+on.</p>
+<p>"Where are the rebels?"</p>
+<p>"A mile in front when dark came."</p>
+<p>"Infantry?"</p>
+<p>"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't
+know which."</p>
+<p>"Please describe their position."</p>
+<p>"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up
+across the road--a mile out there," pointing.</p>
+<p>"In the woods?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Captain--"</p>
+<p>"No, only lieutenant."</p>
+<p>"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me
+to the point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"</p>
+<p>As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but
+he knew nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or
+infantry, whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how
+many they were. The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road
+muffled the sounds of the horses' hoofs; no noise came from front
+or rear. The way was through the woods; in little more than half a
+mile open ground was seen ahead. Johnson stopped; so did I.</p>
+<p>"They are on the other side of the field," said he,</p>
+<p>"How wide is the field?"</p>
+<p>"A quarter, I guess."</p>
+<p>"What was planted in the field last year?"</p>
+<p>"Corn."</p>
+<p>"Stalks still standing?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, but they are very small."</p>
+<p>"Does the road run between fences?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"How far does the field extend to our right?"</p>
+<p>"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."</p>
+<p>"And to our left?"</p>
+<p>"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."</p>
+<p>"Any houses?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."</p>
+<p>"A farmhouse?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."</p>
+<p>"Which side of the road?"</p>
+<p>"The left."</p>
+<p>Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.</p>
+<p>How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival
+at Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it
+might mean success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at
+nightfall, I should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if
+they were yet yonder in the woods on the other side of the field,
+they would capture me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the
+safe course, or the possible speedy course? I took the safe course.
+Dismounting I tied my horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward
+on the right of the right-hand fence, until I reached the woods
+beyond the field. I looked over the fence into the road. There was
+no enemy visible. The house at the west was without lights, and
+there was no noise of barking dogs or of anything else; clearly the
+rebels had moved, and by my prudence the black horse had gained
+further upon me. I got into the road and ran back to my horse,
+mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a mile;
+then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not
+expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first
+disappointment control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat
+of the rebels was necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains
+to protect. The road must be forsaken at the first path that would
+lead me to the right; any bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The
+night was clear, and the stars would guide me until I should reach
+some better ground. The sketch furnished me gave me only the main
+road, with the branch roads marked down for very short distances. I
+would take one of the branch roads leading to the right; there must
+be roads leading up the York; all the country is interlaced with
+roads small and large. I would risk it; better do that than risk
+falling into the enemy's hands.</p>
+<p>I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could
+distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was
+louder--coming and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into
+the woods a few yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still
+the sounds reached me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse,
+yet coming from far. Who could be riding fast this night? Who could
+be riding south this night? The rebels were going north; no rebel
+horseman would ride south to-night.</p>
+<p>The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed
+by; I could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I
+saw a black horse going south.</p>
+<p>Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I
+could not know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I
+be sure that in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or
+black from bay? I could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my
+first impression. The lieutenant had said the man's horse was
+black. How did the lieutenant know? Had he seen the horse by day?
+Had he brought a light? The horse must be very black. To satisfy my
+mind I led my horse into the road and slipped the bridle round his
+foreleg; then retired a few yards and looked at him--he had not the
+colour of the black horse; he was a deep bay.</p>
+<p>Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been
+found far up the road, and the messenger could not get through
+them. Who else would be riding fast down this road? If the rider
+were a rebel, he would ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward
+our own lines; this rider was one of ours. Who was he? He was the
+messenger on the black horse. Why should he ride so fast to the
+rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps he knew of another road,
+and was hurrying now because he had already lost time and his new
+road would be longer and would make him lose more.</p>
+<p>Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the
+black horse far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before
+I should encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.</p>
+<p>After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on
+the right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and
+considered. The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were
+occupied, what should I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one
+was now in the cabin, I might get information; if it was deserted,
+I could explore the ground about it, for I hoped that some path
+connected this place with other fields and perhaps other roads to
+the north. I dismounted and approached the door and knocked. There
+was no response. I pushed the door, and it opened; the place had
+been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a well in the back
+yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path leading to a
+spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully continued my
+search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the back
+fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to
+the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached
+the woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the
+trees overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my
+horse, I continued on and came to a larger field where, at the
+fence, the path connected with, a narrow plantation road which I
+knew, from the ruts, wagons had used. I went to the right, no
+longer dismounted, and going at a fast trot. My road was running in
+a northeast course, but soon the corner of the field was reached,
+and then it branched, one branch going to the north, the other
+continuing northeast Which should I take? I could not hesitate; I
+rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road for nearly a
+mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt sure that
+I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
+considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road
+again, but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was
+stretched along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the
+rear-guard picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had
+preceded me. I would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost
+lost sometimes, passing farms and woods and streams, forsaking one
+path for a worse one, if the latter favoured my course, until at
+last, after great anxiety, and fatigue of body and mind, I reached
+a wide road running northwest. I had come, I supposed, four or five
+miles from the stile.</p>
+<p>Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in
+the road to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map
+was worthless now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying
+parties; those people I must watch for.</p>
+<p>I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles
+to go, for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but
+I counted that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative
+safety, and had five hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing
+about, but it was running in the correct course for Eltham's
+Landing high up on the river.</p>
+<p>Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should
+take the right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight
+off to the York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take
+the left, it was chance for chance that I should ride straight to
+the enemy on the Richmond road.</p>
+<p>I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of
+hope thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance,
+but would take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or
+bridle-path branching out of this, and running up the river. But my
+progress became exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss
+seeing some blind road leading to the right, and my carefulness
+again cost me a little time, perhaps, for I found a path, and took
+it, going with great caution for a furlong, to find that it entered
+a larger road. If I had not taken this path, I should have soon
+reached this good road at its junction, and time would have been
+saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame myself, and went on
+with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon was getting far
+down the sky, my road was good and was running straight toward my
+end.</p>
+<p>But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard
+hoof-beats behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some
+night rider was following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal?
+Loud ring the strokes of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I
+must run or I must slip aside.</p>
+<p>I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw
+up the game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid
+in the shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering
+hoofs hit the road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the
+black horse belly to the ground in the moonlight.</p>
+<p>Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man
+before me; if he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me;
+so long as he should be in my front, safety for me was at the front
+and danger elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the
+road stretches were long, going slowly where the ground was hard,
+lest the noise of my approach should be heard. Yet I had no
+difficulty; the courier was straining every nerve to reach his
+destination, and regarded not his rear. He crossed roads in haste,
+and by this I knew that the road was to him familiar; he paused
+never, but kept his horse at an even gallop through forest and
+through field, while I followed by jerks, making my horse run at
+times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back to
+slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.</p>
+<p>But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had
+supposed; light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the
+west. How far to the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he
+has gone many weary miles more than mine has gone; his rider is
+urging him to the utmost; I can see him dig his spurs again and
+again into the sides of the noble beast, and see him strike, and I
+see him turn where the road turns ahead of me, and I ride faster to
+recover him; and now I see black smoke rising at my right hand, and
+I hear the whistle of the Union steam vessels, and I almost cry for
+joy, and at the turning of the road my horse rears and almost
+throws me to the ground, and I see the black horse lying dead, and
+I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror as a man springs
+from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts, "Your horse!
+your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your brains out!"</p>
+<p>For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!</p>
+<p>Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I
+write the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the
+past:--the daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two
+horses, each pair as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was
+dead and the other man was about to die. Had I been so utterly
+foolish! Why had I conceived absolutely that this rider was a
+Federal? How could a Federal know the road so well that he had gone
+over it at full speed, never hesitating, never deflecting into a
+wrong course? The instant before, I had been in heaven, for I had
+known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt that my end had
+come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a lost
+mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time
+any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and
+reaching our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.</p>
+<p>In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world
+<i>was</i> changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I
+saw his hands go up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed
+sight--were two Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the
+man in gray.</p>
+<p>"Take me at once to General Franklin."</p>
+<p>Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same
+words!</p>
+<p>The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black
+horse was a Federal in disguise!</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no
+error on my part, my mission was a failure.</p>
+<p>"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of
+it?" I asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.</p>
+<p>"That horse was going home!"</p>
+<p>"A horse captured from the rebels?"</p>
+<p>"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing.
+You see he had already made that road and was not in the best
+condition to make it again so soon; then I had to turn about more
+than once. I suppose that horse must have made nearly a hundred
+miles in twenty-four hours."</p>
+<p>Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as
+General Porter's messenger.</p>
+<p>On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XIV"></a>XIV</h2>
+<h3>OUT OF SORTS</h3>
+<center>"Your changed complexions are to me a mirror<br>
+Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be<br>
+A party in this alteration, finding<br>
+Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling
+for Dr. Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was
+sure that no other man was received as his companion--not that he
+was distant, but that he was not approached. By nature I am
+affectionate, but at that time my emotions were severely and almost
+continually repressed by my will, because of a condition of nervous
+sensitiveness in regard to the possibility of an exposure of my
+peculiarity, so that I often wondered whether the Doctor fully
+understood the love and reverence I bore him.</p>
+<p>On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say,
+on the morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William
+and Mary College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices,
+as he said, for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the
+open air, busily engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when
+I saw a man coming toward me. It was Willis.</p>
+<p>"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"</p>
+<p>"That depends."</p>
+<p>"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought
+out a camp-stool; Willis remained standing.</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear
+about your being detailed for special work?"</p>
+<p>"So," said I.</p>
+<p>"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"</p>
+<p>Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be;
+besides, I had observed that he called me Berwick rather than
+Jones. His attitude chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about
+myself. We talk about personal matters to personal friends. I
+suppose, too, that I am peculiar in such things; at any rate, so
+great was my distaste to talking now with Willis on the subject in
+question that I did not succeed in hiding my feeling.</p>
+<p>"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."</p>
+<p>"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal
+matters, perhaps too personal."</p>
+<p>"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then
+he asked, "How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"</p>
+<p>It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not
+of the little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to
+Lydia, and I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my
+being or becoming his rival. Yet I did not see how I could
+introduce a subject so delicate. In order to gain time, I replied:
+"Well, I don't know exactly; I am subject to orders from brigade
+headquarters. If no orders come, I shall stay here a day or two; if
+we march, I suppose I shall march with the company, unless the
+division is in the rear."</p>
+<p>"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will
+you do?" he asked.</p>
+<p>This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I
+asked, "Why do you wish to know?"</p>
+<p>"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to
+show your hand."</p>
+<p>"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.</p>
+<p>"You know very well what I mean," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say
+anything, this is a good time for saying it."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss
+Lydia."</p>
+<p>"Well?"</p>
+<p>"And I thought you were my friend."</p>
+<p>"I am your friend."</p>
+<p>"Then why do you get into my way?"</p>
+<p>"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what
+would you have me to do?"</p>
+<p>"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why
+you visit him."</p>
+<p>"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him.
+I have no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."</p>
+<p>"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."</p>
+<p>"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to
+favour your hopes?"</p>
+<p>"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's
+company; but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that
+you want Miss Lydia."</p>
+<p>"Shall I tell him that you say that?"</p>
+<p>"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he
+replied angrily.</p>
+<p>"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss
+Lydia?"</p>
+<p>"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've
+got to say is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my
+way."</p>
+<p>"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me
+into a very delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and
+explain to him that my attachment to him is not a piece of
+hypocrisy played by me in order to win his daughter, would not be
+satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or even to Miss Khayme."</p>
+<p>"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.</p>
+<p>"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my
+assumption that she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my
+saying, 'I don't want you,' and more than that, as you can easily
+see. I decline to put myself into such a position. I prefer to
+assume that she does not regard me as a suitor, and that the Doctor
+receives me only as an old pupil. I beg you to stay here until the
+Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can promise you one
+thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a clear field."</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with
+Miss Lydia?"</p>
+<p>"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect
+me to say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it
+would be silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have
+not. I can tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia
+that I would not speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter,
+and I can say that I have not one degree of claim upon her."</p>
+<p>"Then you will keep out of my way?"</p>
+<p>"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will
+keep out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young
+lady is absolutely free so far as I am concerned."</p>
+<p>At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and
+went into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I
+offered to lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so
+greatly interested, but he would not consent.</p>
+<p>The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he
+said.</p>
+<p>"You surprise me, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week
+to come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division
+moves. Lydia will find enough to do here."</p>
+<p>Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short
+distance; on parting with him I told him that he might expect to
+see me again at night.</p>
+<p>"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."</p>
+<p>Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said
+nothing.</p>
+<p>When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He
+looked up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing
+to write, he said, "So Willis is angry."</p>
+<p>"Why do you say so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.</p>
+<p>I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.</p>
+<p>"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before
+I could reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that
+expression; it is a good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed,
+mentally unwell, physically ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of
+sorts. Out of sorts means mixed, unclassified, unassorted, having
+one's functions disordered. One who cannot separate his functions
+distinctly is unwell and, necessarily, miserable. Willis showed
+signs of dementia; his brain is not acting right. I think I can
+cure him."</p>
+<p>I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of
+sarcasm.</p>
+<p>He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate
+of any individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that
+is, sane at times, but to find them would be like finding the
+traditional needle. I suppose our good friend Willis would rank
+higher than the average, after all is said."</p>
+<p>"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."</p>
+<p>"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man
+for a soldier and a sergeant, and be content."</p>
+<p>Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge
+of nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this
+time I had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had
+alarmed or offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round
+the subject.</p>
+<p>"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a
+commission. If the war continues, there will be many chances for
+promotion."</p>
+<p>"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a
+commission. The difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is
+greater in pay than in qualification; in fact, a good
+orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a good captain. Let Willis
+have his commission. Let that be his ambition, if he persists in
+murdering people."</p>
+<p>The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words
+were intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I
+could do nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was
+very delicate. Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he
+was very much afraid of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw
+more than I could see? No, that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he
+simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's well-known partiality for me; he
+feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was uneasy. I examined myself; I
+thought of my past conduct in regard to Lydia, and found nothing to
+condemn. I had been rather more distant, I thought, than was
+necessary. I must preserve this distance.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the
+company to-night."</p>
+<p>He looked up. "You will see Willis?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left
+us rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very
+well."</p>
+<p>"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me
+here by ten o'clock."</p>
+<p>When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on
+duty somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and
+everything passed in the friendliest way possible, at first.
+Evidently he was pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia.
+But he soon learned that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and
+his countenance changed at once.</p>
+<p>"What am I to think of you?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you
+no wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."</p>
+<p>"He said that I was not well?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my
+life."</p>
+<p>"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."</p>
+<p>"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain
+longer."</p>
+<p>"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak
+to Miss Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or
+the other?"</p>
+<p>"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said
+he; "how can I speak to her?"</p>
+<p>"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the
+one to speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it.
+It's got to be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's
+what's hurting me."</p>
+<p>"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.</p>
+<p>"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over;
+it's doing me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."</p>
+<p>"Why don't you write?"</p>
+<p>"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked
+cowardly not to face the music."</p>
+<p>"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all.
+You ought to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't
+suppose you can do that."</p>
+<p>"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall
+write."</p>
+<p>I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said,
+coupled with my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not
+think his chance worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best
+thing for him to do was to bring matters to a conclusion. He would
+recover sooner.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had
+arrived in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the
+hospital.</p>
+<p>"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little
+less out of sorts?"</p>
+<p>"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work,
+Jones. I have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate
+uniform, while scouting."</p>
+<p>"And you do not oppose it?"</p>
+<p>"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war;
+all I can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it
+to good."</p>
+<p>The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended
+by saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some
+wounded prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles
+which the respective sections were fighting for.</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout
+would be of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself,
+as my friend Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the
+best thing for the rebels was their quick defeat."</p>
+<p>"I remember it."</p>
+<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind."</p>
+<p>"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed.
+I believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe
+in the Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe
+and you do believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to
+war. But war has come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see
+that an easy defeat of the Southern armies will not bring about a
+wholesome reunion. For the people of the two sections to live in
+harmony, there must be mutual respect, and there must be
+self-respect. An easy triumph over the South would cause the North
+great vainglory and the South great humiliation. Granting war, it
+should be such as to effect as much good and as little harm as
+possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
+respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to
+know that she did all she could, and the North must know that the
+South proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
+respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded
+upon an easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not
+friends."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XV"></a>XV</h2>
+<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT</h3>
+<center>"The respects thereof are nice and trivial,<br>
+All circumstances well considered."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned
+that a part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was
+encamped near White House, and that General McClellan's
+headquarters were at or near that place.</p>
+<p>Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard
+that the rebels had destroyed the <i>Merrimac</i>. Heavy rains
+fell. Hooker's division was still in reserve, and had little to do
+except to mount camp guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr.
+Khayme in his camp near Williamsburg.</p>
+<p>I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness
+to melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written
+to Miss Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard
+time of it, but he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a
+little by taking him into my confidence in regard to my own
+troubles. I was moved to do this by the belief that, if I should
+tell Willis about my peculiarities, which in my opinion would make
+marriage a crime for me, he would find companionship in sorrow
+where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease to think entirely
+of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to appreciate my
+intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir up his
+ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him
+begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.</p>
+<p>From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the
+other divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the
+Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the
+Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went
+at once.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"</p>
+<p>"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.</p>
+<p>"Your regiment has had a good rest."</p>
+<p>"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."</p>
+<p>"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I
+am authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I
+shall be in greater demand there."</p>
+<p>"I wish I could go with you," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your
+orders?"</p>
+<p>"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to
+keep the adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my
+whereabouts."</p>
+<p>"How frequently must you report in person?"</p>
+<p>"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I
+cannot think it will be brought into action soon unless there
+should be a general engagement. If you can report in writing every
+two or three days, you need not limit your work or your presence to
+any particular part of the line."</p>
+<p>"But the right must be many miles from our division."</p>
+<p>"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present
+right is not more than five miles; the distance will be greater,
+though, in a few days."</p>
+<p>"What is going on, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force
+in his front, and--but let me get a map and show you the
+situation."</p>
+<p>He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread
+on a camp-bed.</p>
+<p>"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it.
+Here, about this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division
+under General Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to
+re&euml;nforce his right by ordering McDowell to march, thus,"
+describing almost a semicircle which began by going south, then
+southeast, then southwest; "that would place McDowell on
+McClellan's right flank, here. Now, if McDowell re&euml;nforces
+McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the Chickahominy, and if
+McDowell does not re&euml;nforce McClellan, this entire army cannot
+cross the Chickahominy."</p>
+<p>"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.</p>
+<p>"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten
+days; afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell
+comes, it will take ten days for his movement to be completed, and
+your right wing would move to meet him if need be, rather than move
+forward and leave him. To move forward would expose McDowell's
+flank to the Confederates near Guiney's, and it is feared that
+Jackson is not far from them. Am I clear?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose
+McDowell does not come."</p>
+<p>"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross
+the Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate
+force, supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached
+Hanover Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you
+advance; besides, to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army
+would endanger your supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is
+an awkward thing to cross; if it should rise suddenly, the army on
+the south side might starve before the men could get rations; all
+that the Confederates would have to do would be to prevent wagon
+trains from crossing the bridges. And another thing--defeat, with
+the river behind the army, would mean destruction. McClellan will
+not cross his army; he will throw only his left across."</p>
+<p>"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that
+with a wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of
+being beaten in detail."</p>
+<p>"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something;
+he makes a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the
+war department already thinks he has lost too much time and has
+shown too little aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring
+the James River as a base, for he could there have a river on
+either flank, and his base would be protected by the fleet; but
+this theory was overthrown at first by the <i>Merrimac</i>, and now
+that she is out of the way the clamour of the war department
+against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan accepts the
+York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to prepare, for a
+change to the James, by throwing forward his left."</p>
+<p>"But the left has not been thrown forward."</p>
+<p>"It will be done shortly."</p>
+<p>"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to
+re&euml;nforce us?"</p>
+<p>"McDowell has already been ordered to re&euml;nforce McClellan,
+and the order has been countermanded. The Washington authorities
+fear to uncover Washington on account of Jackson's presence in the
+Shenandoah Valley. If McDowell remains near Fredericksburg 'for
+good,' as we used to say in South Carolina, McClellan will be
+likely to get everything in readiness, then wait for his
+opportunity, and throw his right wing also across the Chickahominy,
+with the purpose of ending the campaign in a general engagement
+before his supplies are endangered. But this will take time. So I
+say that no matter what happens, except one thing, there will be
+nothing done by Hooker for ten days; he will stay in reserve."</p>
+<p>"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"A general attack by the Confederates."</p>
+<p>"And you think that is possible?"</p>
+<p>"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And
+you think they are ready to attack?"</p>
+<p>"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any
+rate a general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over
+the Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."</p>
+<p>"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or
+unless somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged
+unless your whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There
+is no possibility of an action for a week to come, and unless the
+Confederates attack, there will be no action for a month."</p>
+<p>"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates
+intend to attack," said I.</p>
+<p>"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you
+can serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You
+are free to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the
+place for you."</p>
+<p>"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one
+to see that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging
+every day for re&euml;nforcements; the Confederates are waiting and
+are being re&euml;nforced."</p>
+<p>"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by
+going with you?"</p>
+<p>"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from
+your regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your
+opportunities for service will be better."</p>
+<p>"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of
+reporting to the adjutant almost daily."</p>
+<p>"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a
+man."</p>
+<p>It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr.
+Khayme, who, on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear
+of General Porter's command, which we found supporting Franklin,
+whose troops were nearer the Chickahominy and behind New
+Bridge.</p>
+<p>Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling
+him where I could be found at need, and promising to send in
+further reports if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this
+period of the campaign there was but little activity anywhere along
+our lines; in fact, the lines had not been fully developed, and, as
+there was a difficult stream between us and the enemy, there was no
+room for enterprise. Here and there a reconnaissance would be made
+in order to learn something of the position of the rebels on the
+south side of the river, but such reconnaissances consisted mostly
+in merely moving small bodies of our troops up to the swamp and
+getting them fired upon by the Confederate artillery posted on the
+hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the 22d, while Dr.
+Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of guns in
+two places, but only a few shots.</p>
+<p>"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"From a wounded prisoner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I
+have had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform,
+perhaps, since it has the South Carolina State button, but in
+everything else it is the correct thing."</p>
+<p>"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as
+quickly as possible?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as
+I can do as well with my own,"</p>
+<p>"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or
+somewhere on your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor.
+"General Butterfield has given stringent orders for no man to leave
+camp for an hour."</p>
+<p>"Who is General Butterfield?"</p>
+<p>"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of
+his camp--Morell's division."</p>
+<p>"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation
+here?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost
+sorry that I have sent for Lydia to come."</p>
+<p>"And they will move to the right?"</p>
+<p>"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right
+flank is threatened."</p>
+<p>"Then why not fall back to the left?"</p>
+<p>"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that
+would look like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right
+will hold; it may attack."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"</p>
+<p>"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"But your sympathies are with us."</p>
+<p>"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but
+strong in many other points. I think we have discussed this
+before."</p>
+<p>That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again.
+The Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the
+complete abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind
+allowed him to sympathize keenly with the political contention of
+the South.</p>
+<p>We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some
+one approaching.</p>
+<p>The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was
+presented to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.</p>
+<p>"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he
+said. "General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and
+proposes to borrow him, if possible."</p>
+<p>The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the
+Doctor looked at me; I looked at the ground.</p>
+<p>The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands
+that he is asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he
+knows the circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere
+you may be needed."</p>
+<p>"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is
+required of me?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain
+Auchmuty. "General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as
+to accompany me to his tent, you shall have the matter
+explained."</p>
+<p>The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he
+could just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think
+myself his debtor.</p>
+<p>"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I
+promise that you may return in an hour."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVI"></a>XVI</h2>
+<h3>BETWEEN THE LINES</h3>
+<center>"Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,<br>
+To know the number of our enemies."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to
+me as Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite
+dark.</p>
+<p>The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General
+Morell. In the conversation which followed, General Butterfield
+seemed greatly interested, but took no part at all.</p>
+<p>General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he
+said, "because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are
+prudent as well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you
+will get it for us."</p>
+<p>"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my
+absence is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."</p>
+<p>"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he
+is willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is
+likely to remain inactive. I will show you his note."</p>
+<p>Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General
+Grover the expression used by General Morell.</p>
+<p>"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my
+best for you."</p>
+<p>"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you
+will take with you if you wish."</p>
+<p>The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread
+the map. I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.</p>
+<p>"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you
+are to do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting
+the point of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up
+here is Hanover Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles
+this side--about this spot. You are to get to both places and find
+out if the enemy is at either, or both, and in what force. If he is
+not at either place, you are to move along the railroad in the
+direction of Richmond, until you find the enemy."</p>
+<p>"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg;
+they cross at the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Which railroad shall I follow?"</p>
+<p>"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn
+something of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if
+you are compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction,
+you need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say
+less than eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get
+all the knowledge you can of his position, his force in all arms,
+and, if possible, his purposes."</p>
+<p>"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body,
+not a mere scouting party."</p>
+<p>"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or
+foragers."</p>
+<p>"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey
+River," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which
+form the Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover
+Court-House, would there be any need for me to go on to the
+Junction?"</p>
+<p>"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time;
+in case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and
+inform us just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if
+you find no enemy at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if
+you find a small force, such as a party of cavalry, you should try
+to get to the Junction."</p>
+<p>"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"</p>
+<p>"I can give you four days at the outside."</p>
+<p>"Counting to-night?"</p>
+<p>"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of
+the 27th, and shall hope to see you earlier."</p>
+<p>"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.</p>
+<p>"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.</p>
+<p>"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to
+meet?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in
+that case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force
+of ours run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal,
+better reserve your report for me."</p>
+<p>"And shall I find you here, sir?"</p>
+<p>"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if
+this command moves, I will leave orders for you."</p>
+<p>"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"</p>
+<p>"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel
+cavalry from the moment when you reach this point," putting his
+pencil on a spot marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in
+getting around them perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover
+Court-House, and another day to the Junction, if you find that you
+must go there; that gives you two days more; but if you find the
+enemy at the Court-House, you may get back in three days."</p>
+<p>"Why should I go by Old Church?"</p>
+<p>"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end;
+the country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral
+ground, and you would be delayed in going through it."</p>
+<a name="186.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/186.png" width="50%" alt=""></p>
+<p>"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover
+Court-House?"</p>
+<p>"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads
+and the profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to
+military obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force,
+I mean--look into them."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, I am ready."</p>
+<p>"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want,
+mounted or afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please
+have a good man to report to me two hours before day."</p>
+<p>"Mounted?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations
+and corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."</p>
+<p>"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the
+road to Old Church."</p>
+<p>"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night,
+and good luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your
+success will justify it."</p>
+<p>"Good night, General. I will do my best."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in
+disguise, and I had great doubt what to do; however, I at last
+compromised matters by deciding to take the Confederate uniform to
+be used in case I should need it. A thought occurred to me:
+"Doctor," said I, "these palmetto buttons might prove a bad thing.
+Suppose I should get into a brigade of Georgians occupying some
+position where there are no other troops; what would a Carolinian
+be doing amongst them?"</p>
+<p>"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these
+buttons are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth:
+all you have to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few
+moments. However, nobody would notice your buttons unless you
+should be within six feet of him and in broad daylight."</p>
+<p>"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there
+are more Confederates than Carolinians."</p>
+<p>The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto
+buttons into my haversack.</p>
+<p>Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I
+studied the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray
+clothing was wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the
+saddle. My escort was expected to provide for everything else. I
+decided to wear a black soft hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as
+big as mine, although he weighed about half as much as I did. My
+own shoes were coarse enough, and of no peculiar make. In my
+pockets I put nothing except a knife, some Confederate money, some
+silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South
+Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which he insisted
+on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I was a
+Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.</p>
+<p>Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside
+the tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but
+he was already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.</p>
+<p>The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.</p>
+<p>"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," said he.</p>
+<p>"What is your name?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"</p>
+<p>"What? My friend of the black horse?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"But I believe you are in blue this time."</p>
+<p>"Yes; I got no orders."</p>
+<p>I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had
+already had occasion to know.</p>
+<p>We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine.
+The morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered
+overhead, and Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the
+handle of the Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure
+that I looked for the Pleiades, to count them; they had not
+risen.</p>
+<p>We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops
+lay in bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer;
+then parks of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of
+wagons, with horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met
+a horseman, but nothing was said to him or by him.</p>
+<p>Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where
+nothing was seen except fields and woods.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I
+can satisfy them."</p>
+<p>At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then
+returned and explained that our post would admit us. We passed a
+mounted vedette, and then went on for a few hundred yards until we
+came to a crossroad.</p>
+<p>"We are at Old Church," said Jones.</p>
+<p>"And we have nobody here?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take
+the left here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the
+road."</p>
+<p>"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to
+the left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a
+blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had nearly
+risen.</p>
+<p>The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant
+Russell. He gave me all the information he could. The right-hand
+road, by the blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek
+near its mouth, he said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River,
+and at the place where it crossed the Pamunkey another road came
+in, running down the river from Hanover Court-House. He was sure
+that the road which came in was the road from Hanover to the ferry
+at Hanover Old Town; he believed the ferry had not yet been
+destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him where the
+left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road to
+Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
+considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road.
+This also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my
+hat the several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church
+to Hanover Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I
+could have some resource, but I found that I could remember without
+uncovering.</p>
+<p>The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what
+he knew did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if
+he knew where the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are
+coming and going," said he; "one day they will be moving, and then
+a day will pass without our hearing of them. If they have a post
+anywhere, I don't know it."</p>
+<p>"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"</p>
+<p>"No--nobody at all," said he.</p>
+<p>Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had
+swallowed our breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee.
+For several reasons I thought it best to take the road to the left:
+first, it was away from the river, which the rebels were supposed
+to be watching closely; second, the distance seemed not so great;
+and, third, it was said to traverse a less populous region.</p>
+<p>I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided
+that we should ride forward alternately, at least until we should
+strike the crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones,
+rode forward for fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to
+him to come on. As he went by me I told him to continue to advance
+until he should reach, a turn in the road; then he should halt and
+let me pass him. At the first stop he made I saw with pleasure that
+he had the good judgment to halt on the side of the road amongst
+the bushes. I now rode up to him in turn, and paused before
+passing.</p>
+<p>"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"And have seen nothing?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; not a thing."</p>
+<p>"You understand why we advance in this manner?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both
+can watch for both."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the
+same time; one of us might be left to tell the tale."</p>
+<p>I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a
+field was seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and
+I changed tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together
+through the field, went on quickly past the house, and on to
+another thicket, in the edge of which we found a school-house; but
+just before reaching the thicket I made Jones follow me at the
+distance of some forty yards. I had made this change of procedure
+because I had been able to see that there was nobody in the stretch
+of road passing the house, and I thought it better for two at once
+to be exposed to possible view from the house for a minute than one
+each for a minute.</p>
+<p>We had not seen a soul.</p>
+<p>We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding
+forward for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and
+alternately thus until we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into
+ours from the southwest. On the north of our road, and about two
+hundred and fifty yards from the spot where we had halted, was a
+farmhouse, which I supposed was the Linney house marked on the map.
+The road at the left, I knew from the map, went straight to
+Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I suspected that it was
+frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We remained in hiding at
+a short distance from the house, and consulted. I feared to pass
+openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the house, for
+discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion of the
+whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably be
+supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and,
+if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great
+probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the
+nearest rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning
+back. We rode down toward Old Church until we came to a forest
+stretching north of the road, which we now left, and made through
+the woods a circuit of the Linney house, and reached the Hanover
+road again in the low grounds of Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no
+one. The creek bottom was covered with forest and dense
+undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below the road, and
+kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture into the
+open.</p>
+<p>It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three
+miles since we had left Old Church.</p>
+<p>In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that
+we must run some risk of being seen from four directions at once,
+or else we must flank the crossing.</p>
+<p>By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the
+way until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and
+bidding Jones remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up
+and down, on the road. There were houses at my left--some two
+hundred yards off, and but indistinctly seen through the trees--on
+both sides of the road, but no person was visible. Just at my right
+the road sank between two elevations. I went to the hollow and
+found that from this position the houses could not be seen. I went
+back to Jones, and together we led our horses across the road
+through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly away through the
+woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two miles or more
+beyond the Linney house.</p>
+<p>We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts
+it would be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a
+mile at our left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the
+left and made for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we
+soon reached the Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought,
+of Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear
+oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover
+Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by
+the enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently
+operated. If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction,
+were seeking to get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this
+would be the road by which it would march; this road then, beyond
+all question, was constantly watched, and there was strong
+probability that rebels were kept posted in good positions upon it.
+But for the fact that I might find it necessary to reach the
+Junction, I should now have gone forward afoot.</p>
+<p>I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther
+forward, and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to
+be one, at the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from
+ten o'clock until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our
+gradual approach.</p>
+<p>The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we
+found it always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight
+of the road, Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours
+we went around every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we
+had plenty of time. We avoided every habitation, and chose the
+thickest of the woods and the deepest of the hollows, and so
+conducted our advance that, remarkable as it may seem, from the
+time we left our outposts at Old Church until we came in sight of
+the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a human being,
+though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve miles. Of
+course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had been
+seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to
+keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there
+could tell whether we were friend or enemy.</p>
+<p>At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket.
+While we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that
+resembled the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the
+sound came from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of
+McClellan's right.</p>
+<p>About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which
+we could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in
+front of us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the
+open space. Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was
+determined to be prudent. The only question was whether we should
+flank the field at the right or at the left. From our point of
+observation, it seemed to me that the field in front stretched
+sufficiently far in the north to reach the Hanover road; if this
+were true our only course was by the left. To be as nearly sure as
+possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very much that I had
+not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General Morrell
+had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I
+had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should
+reach the ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that
+the road did go through the field and that there were men in the
+road.</p>
+<p>I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not
+more than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They
+seemed to be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking
+they began to move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There
+were bushes on the sides of the road where they were; soon they
+passed beyond the bushes, and I could see that the men were
+mounted. I watched them until they were lost to sight where the
+road entered the woods beyond. I had counted eleven; I supposed
+there were ten men under command of an officer.</p>
+<p>It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left.
+We acted with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the
+corner of the field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then
+put up the gap, and rode into the woods on the edge of the field.
+In some places the undergrowth was low, and we feared that our
+heads might be seen above our horses; in such places we dismounted.
+We passed at a distance one or two small houses--not dwellings, we
+thought, but field barns or cribs. At length we reached the western
+side of the field; we had gained greatly in position, though we
+were but little nearer to Hanover.</p>
+<p>We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and
+that we were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a
+quarter of a mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the
+horses, I crept through the woods until I could see the road. It
+was deserted. I crept nearer and nearer until I was almost on its
+edge; sheltered by the bushes I could see a long distance either
+way. At my left was a house, some two hundred yards away and on the
+far side of the road. I watched the house. The men I had seen in
+the road might have stopped in the house; there might be--indeed,
+there ought to be--an outpost near me, and this house would
+naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing, and at last
+crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced again
+parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the
+house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard
+in front of the house, and even through the house from front to
+back door; it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to
+seem as though the house was an abandoned one, in which case the
+rebels would likely never stop there, unless for water. I saw no
+well in the yard. There was no sign of life.</p>
+<p>I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel
+with the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a
+field in my front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the
+road there was another field, the road running between rail fences.
+I returned to Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence
+of my long absence, and we brought the horses up to the spot to
+which I had advanced. It was now about four o'clock, and we had yet
+three hours of daylight. Hanover could not be much more than two
+miles from us.</p>
+<p>The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily
+wooded hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet
+quite unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I
+asked Jones to creep back and observe the place thoroughly.</p>
+<p>He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing
+now," he said.</p>
+<p>No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into
+the woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in
+two squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward
+Hanover.</p>
+<p>"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went
+through the field?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would
+not show above the fence," he said.</p>
+<p>I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these
+small bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the
+supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had
+passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several
+attempts made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.</p>
+<p>No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went
+to the left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the
+foot of a hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I
+must go forward alone.</p>
+<p>To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in
+the creek swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a
+signal.</p>
+<p>I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I
+crossed the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the
+road; it ran up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men.
+Here, I was convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there
+was a line.</p>
+<p>A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge
+of the road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east,
+nearer to me than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone
+on sabres and carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry
+picket-line. I came down from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones,
+and got ready. I told him to make himself comfortable for the
+night, and to wait for me no longer than two o'clock the next day.
+The package containing the gray clothing I took with me. I would
+not put it on until I should see that nothing else would do.</p>
+<p>And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went
+forward. I had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I
+should find it to be a very long line; if it proved to be a line
+that I could turn, I would go round it, and when on its flank I
+would act as opportunity should offer. If the enemy's force were
+small, I might see it all from the outside; but if it consisted of
+brigades and divisions, I would put on the disguise and throw away
+my own uniform.</p>
+<p>Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were
+beginning to show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had
+seen the rebel picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed,
+carrying nothing but the gray clothes wrapped in the
+gum-blanket.</p>
+<p>The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were
+no trees. At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could
+hear voices far away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices
+were nearer--or louder, possibly.</p>
+<p>I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved
+off at a right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line
+parallel with the supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A
+rabbit sprang up from almost under my feet. I was glad that it did
+not run up the hill. Voices continued to come to my ears, but from
+far away. I supposed that the line was more than three hundred
+yards from me, and that vedettes were between us; but for the
+vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew that I was in no great
+danger so long as the pickets would talk. The voices made me sure
+that these pickets did not feel themselves in the presence of an
+enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of cavalry on all
+the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were prepared for
+attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared against
+observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for that.
+So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively
+safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from
+them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be
+in their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should
+think of him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he
+should be alarmed, I could get away.</p>
+<p>So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I
+struck woods, where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on
+level ground, and I could see in the distance the light of
+camp-fires, between which and me I could not doubt were the
+pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of the enemy.</p>
+<p>I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on
+the fires. I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it
+certainly covered more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that
+I were on the north side of the road.</p>
+<p>The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right.
+I was beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had
+reached the point where the picket-line bent back. I felt
+encouraged.</p>
+<p>I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still
+pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line
+fronting east. Soon I reached another road.</p>
+<p>Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could
+see, into the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt
+one of the main roads leading to Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no
+camp-fires.</p>
+<p>I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.</p>
+<p>A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.</p>
+<p>I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star
+through the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north
+and south. The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near
+it, and bent back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon
+cavalry for their flank,--and this flank was toward their main army
+at Richmond,--my work would be easy.</p>
+<p>I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More
+cavalry rode by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of
+any infantry pickets.</p>
+<p>An ambulance went by, going north into camp.</p>
+<p>I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out
+of my pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves
+as well as I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes
+and twisted the gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had
+resolved to accompany any ambulance or wagon that should come into
+the rebel camp.</p>
+<p>Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and
+waited.</p>
+<p>Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was
+now convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was
+protected by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left
+flank of the rebel line.</p>
+<p>I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I
+could hear the engines puffing.</p>
+<p>From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I
+saw a team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the
+night.</p>
+<p>A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and
+get behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another
+came. As the last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent
+under the feed-box which, was slung behind it.</p>
+<p>I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVII"></a>XVII</h2>
+<h3>THE LINES OF HANOVER</h3>
+<center>"Our scouts have found the adventure very
+easy."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I
+thought, a new road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen
+again, and near by.</p>
+<p>The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted.
+I supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere
+form's sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept
+entirely under the body of the wagon.</p>
+<p>We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back
+and was walking toward the other end of his beat.</p>
+<p>The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an
+encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed
+clearly upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many
+groups of men; some of them were talking noisily; some were
+singing. It was easy to see that these men were in good spirits;
+they surely had not had a hard march that day. For my part, I was
+beginning to feel very tired; still, I knew that excitement would
+keep me going for this night, and for the next day, if need be.</p>
+<p>The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to
+go on until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was
+alone again, and with the Confederate forces between Jones and
+me.</p>
+<p>I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that
+the worst was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago,
+while following up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been
+at any time that day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who
+wore the Southern uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part
+could lose me. I must still act cautiously--yet without the
+appearance of caution; that was a more difficult matter.</p>
+<p>What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work
+of walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get
+out of these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for
+any other rebel.</p>
+<p>But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be
+accosted by some one?</p>
+<p>Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be
+satisfied.</p>
+<p>But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what
+can you say?</p>
+<p>Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all
+Georgians, and I am a South Carolinian.</p>
+<p>The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed
+my imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the
+place of a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier
+again was sudden, violent. I must guard against such
+transitions.</p>
+<p>Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without
+the appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires,
+by a great effort of will dominating my discomposure, and
+determining to play the Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I
+would go to the men; would talk to them when necessary; would count
+their tents and their stacks of arms if possible; would learn, as
+soon as I could, the name of some regiment, so that if I were
+questioned I could answer.</p>
+<p>But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate
+answer, and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you
+say?</p>
+<p>I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could
+prompt such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to
+suspect my being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect
+that one of these men was a Union soldier.</p>
+<p>I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook
+me, each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me
+without speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near
+them--and went with them to their company. I stood by in the light
+of the fires while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while
+they put the canteens on the ground, and their respective owners
+came and got them. The men did not speak to me.</p>
+<p>I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they
+certainly ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready
+for action, but, instead, they were here in tents and without any
+preparation against surprise, so far as I could see, except the
+cavalry pickets thrown out on the roads. If they had been in line,
+it would have been easy for me to estimate the number of bayonets
+in the line of stacked arms; I was greatly disappointed. The tents
+seemed to me too few for the numbers of men who were at the
+camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on their blankets in
+the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild weather, preferred
+to sleep outside of the crowded tents.</p>
+<p>Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to
+know, I sat down.</p>
+<p>One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.</p>
+<p>"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should
+carry some tobacco.</p>
+<p>"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.</p>
+<p>The petitioner refused to reply.</p>
+<p>A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a
+square of tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off
+a very small portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in
+silence at this act, which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One
+of them winked at me. I inferred that the large man intended a
+rebuke to his comrade for begging from a stranger. The large man
+went back and sat down.</p>
+<p>"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"</p>
+<p>"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.</p>
+<p>There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of
+all were upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of
+character and influence, though but a private. He turned to me.</p>
+<p>"You are tired," he said.</p>
+<p>I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted
+me, so that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had
+returned. The look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it
+was sympathetic. He was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me
+might shield me from the curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they
+were feeling interest of any sort in me. I had been fearing that
+some one would ask me my regiment.</p>
+<p>"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next
+fire.</p>
+<p>Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common
+saying with homesick soldiers.</p>
+<p>I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me.
+Perhaps I was thought a friend of one of the men who had brought
+the water; perhaps nobody thought anything, or cared anything,
+about me. Although I felt helpless, I would remain.</p>
+<p>A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of
+my hand. The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled;
+accident had helped me--had given me a plan.</p>
+<p>I turned the letter over. The address was:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Co. G, 7th N.C.
+Reg't,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Branch's
+Brigade,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Gordonsville,
+Va.</i></blockquote>
+<p>I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the
+street. The act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me
+entirely natural, but it was the best I could do; these men, I
+hoped, would merely think me an oddity.</p>
+<p>In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I
+saw.</p>
+<p>"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.</p>
+<p>"What regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"Our'n," said he.</p>
+<p>"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.</p>
+<p>"This is the Thirty-third," said another.</p>
+<p>I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached
+another group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward
+the left. I followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said,
+"Hello, Jim! where are you going?"</p>
+<p>He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to
+hello; but my name's not Jim."</p>
+<p>"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what
+regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another
+word.</p>
+<p>The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the
+Thirty-third and Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all
+of Branch's regiments were from one State. I was supposed to belong
+to the brigade; it was needless to tell me the name of the State
+from which my regiment--from which all the regiments--came. Had the
+brigade been a mixed one, the men would have said, "Thirty-third
+North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North Carolina"; that they did not
+trouble themselves with giving the name of their State was strong
+reason for believing that all the regiments, as I knew the Seventh
+to be, were from North Carolina.</p>
+<p>I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes,
+which I thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten
+o'clock. The men had become silent; but few were sitting at the
+fires. I believed I had sufficient information as to the
+composition of the brigade, but I had learned little as to its
+strength. I knew that there were five streets in the encampment,
+and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how many men were
+in the brigade?</p>
+<p>Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents,
+which I took for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street
+was a wall-tent, which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of
+the encampment of tents, and separated from the encampment by a
+space of a hundred yards, perhaps, was a line of brighter fires
+than now showed in the streets. The dying out of the fires in the
+streets was what called my attention, by contrast, to these
+brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires; to my surprise I
+found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the nearest fire, and
+found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.</p>
+<p>"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said
+one.</p>
+<p>"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.</p>
+<p>"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; do you?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's
+down that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with
+canteens. You are mighty late getting supper."</p>
+<p>"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin',
+an' they jest now got back an' let us loose."</p>
+<p>"What duty were you on?"</p>
+<p>"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time,
+but we went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that
+water o' yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a
+mile."</p>
+<p>"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you
+how to find it."</p>
+<p>"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git
+started right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."</p>
+<p>"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past
+General Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old
+field, and--let me see; what regiment is this?"</p>
+<p>"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no
+tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no
+tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."</p>
+<p>"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I
+rather like it."</p>
+<p>"Well, wher's your water?"</p>
+<p>"You know where the old field is?"</p>
+<p>"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know
+anything."</p>
+<p>"You know headquarters?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the
+old field"</p>
+<p>The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with
+his messmate.</p>
+<p>"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a
+battery with the brigade in a week."</p>
+<p>"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Off on duty," said I.</p>
+<p>"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed
+with your comp'ny an' not ha' seed it <i>then</i>; you hain't seed
+it becaze it ain't for to be saw. They're put it away back
+yander."</p>
+<p>"How many guns?"</p>
+<p>"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em,
+myself."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were
+guarding the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do
+its own guard duty."</p>
+<p>"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house
+down <i>by</i> the battery."</p>
+<p>"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."</p>
+<p>"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."</p>
+<p>"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"</p>
+<p>"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it
+Branch's battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's
+regiment Branch's, too."</p>
+<p>"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"</p>
+<p>"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's
+regiment, by a long shot."</p>
+<p>"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a
+venture.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the
+Junction now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say
+so this mornin'."</p>
+<p>"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.</p>
+<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p>
+<p>"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference
+between the Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North
+Carolina.</p>
+<p>The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk
+almost ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began
+tearing it into little bits, which I threw into the fire one by
+one, pretending mere abstraction.</p>
+<p>The envelope had borne the address:--</p>
+<blockquote>&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;CAPTAIN GEORGE B.
+JOHNSTON,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;<i>Co. G, 28th N.C.
+Reg't,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Branch's Brigade,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Hanover C.H.,
+Va</i>.</blockquote>
+<p>I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G.
+Morrow, of the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A
+third bore the address:--</p>
+<blockquote>CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE, <i>Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,</i><br>
+<i>Gordonsville, Va.</i></blockquote>
+<p>More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of
+privates, corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth,
+others of the Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One
+envelope had no address. Another gave me the name of Col. James H.
+Lane, but no regiment.</p>
+<p>"Time your friend was getting back," said I.</p>
+<p>"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd
+ahead of him."</p>
+<p>"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven
+or eight hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"</p>
+<p>"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"</p>
+<p>"Eighty-two," he said.</p>
+<p>The other man returned from the spring.</p>
+<p>"Know what I heerd?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.</p>
+<p>"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina
+was here summers."</p>
+<p>"Well, maybe it is."</p>
+<p>"I got it mighty straight."</p>
+<p>"How did you hear it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had
+jest come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from
+here"</p>
+<p>"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,</p>
+<p>"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.</p>
+<p>"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."</p>
+<p>My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was
+Branch's command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one
+from Georgia, and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed
+to be near by. What more need I know? I must learn the strength of
+the force; I must get corroboration. The man with whom I had talked
+might be wrong on some point. I considered my friend's opinion
+correct concerning Branch's purpose. The Confederate force was put
+here to protect the railroad. From the envelopes I had learned that
+Branch's brigade had recently been at Gordonsville; it was clear
+that it had left Gordonsville in order to place itself between
+Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's army at Richmond,
+and thus preserve communications. Branch had been re&euml;nforced
+by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and seemingly on
+this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that General
+Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
+last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not
+trouble myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
+corroboration and knowledge of numbers.</p>
+<p>The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight
+formality to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek
+the path to the spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be
+going for water all night long, especially as there seemed little
+of it near by. By getting near the spring I should also be able,
+perhaps, to determine the position of the wagons; I had decided to
+attempt going out of these lines in the manner of my entering them,
+if I could but find a wagon going before daylight.</p>
+<p>It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a
+spring after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself
+by the side of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of
+empty canteens and the footsteps of a man; I started to meet
+him.</p>
+<p>"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"</p>
+<p>"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."</p>
+<p>"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."</p>
+<p>"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."</p>
+<p>"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if
+I did; you've hit it!"</p>
+<p>"What regiment do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>"Thirty-seventh."</p>
+<p>"Is that Colonel Lane's?"</p>
+<p>"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our
+colonel."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."</p>
+<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p>
+<p>"'Eventh,"</p>
+<p>"That's Campbell's," said he.</p>
+<p>"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I,
+sitting down while the man should fill his canteens.</p>
+<p>"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.</p>
+<p>"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more
+are coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and
+is under Branch."</p>
+<p>"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.</p>
+<p>"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"</p>
+<p>"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."</p>
+<p>"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old
+Twenty-eighth is a whopper--a thousand men."</p>
+<p>I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran
+down the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade
+ort to have a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with
+himself for discovering something like a pun or two.</p>
+<p>For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back,
+with this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I
+should linger at the water, he might think my conduct strange.</p>
+<p>Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so,
+venturing the remark that these two new regiments made Branch's
+brigade a very big one.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us
+forever."</p>
+<p>"Wonder where they came from," said I.</p>
+<p>"Too hard for <i>me</i>," he replied; "especially the Twelfth;
+the Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."</p>
+<p>We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop
+here," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
+branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
+his way.</p>
+<p>And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to
+stay at one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I
+should be stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the
+fires of the Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and
+lay down. But I found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the
+experience and the danger of the situation drove sleep as far from
+me as the east is from the west. I believe that in romances it is
+the proper thing to say that a man in trying situations sleeps the
+sleep of the infant; but this is not romance. I could not
+sleep.</p>
+<p>Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself
+and sat up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no
+conversation with him; I was afraid he might question me too
+closely, and that my replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I
+kept quiet; I knew enough--too much to risk losing.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become
+aware of a foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears
+were confirmed. He opened his mouth and said,
+"Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance was an assertion
+rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He continued to look at
+me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and went to
+sleep.</p>
+<p>To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and
+made my way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear.
+It must have been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished
+feeding their mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their
+teams; then, with much shouting and rattling of harness, they moved
+off. I stole along beside the second wagon for some distance, and
+had almost decided to climb into it from behind when I thought that
+possibly some one was in it. There seemed little danger in going
+out behind the wagons, especially as there was no light of day as
+yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets on the road would
+be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and although,
+too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
+cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my
+plan was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.</p>
+<p>When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about
+the spot, as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other
+wagons on the preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on
+the left of the road.</p>
+<p>The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at
+twenty paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution
+must be more than ever my guide; now that I had information of
+great value, it would not do to risk capture.</p>
+<p>For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees,
+intently listening for the least sound which might convince me
+whether I was on the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that
+I was yet in rear of the Confederate pickets. The east was now
+clearly defined, so that my course was easy to choose--a
+northeasterly course, which I knew was very nearly the exact
+direction to the spot where I had left Jones.</p>
+<p>At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every
+yard was increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and
+rendering probability greater in my favour; I surely must be
+already in front of any possible picket-line.</p>
+<p>The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going
+a hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I
+examined the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I
+saw before me a fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal
+some vedette. Yet, if it did, the sentinel should be on my side of
+the tree. I stood for a few moments, intently searching it with my
+eyes. It was not more than fifteen yards from me, and directly in
+my course. At last, seeing nothing, I sprang quickly and was just
+about to lie down behind it, when a man rose from its other side. I
+did not lie down. He looked at me; I looked at him. He was unarmed.
+We were about eight feet apart. He began to recoil. There was light
+sufficient to enable me to tell from his dress that he was a rebel.
+Of course he would think me a Confederate. I stepped over the
+log.</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice;
+"why are you not with your regiment?"</p>
+<p>He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the
+ground.</p>
+<p>"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.</p>
+<p>He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by being here at all?"</p>
+<p>"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to
+sleep here, waiting for day."</p>
+<p>"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"The Seventh," he replied.</p>
+<p>"And your brigade?"</p>
+<p>He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made
+an unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure
+another corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought
+I could perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you
+know that troops have come up in the night? What brigade is
+yours?"</p>
+<p>"Branch's," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I,
+pointing to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well
+pleased to be quit at so cheap a cost.</p>
+<p>Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged
+through the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute
+without pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face;
+again I had felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too
+violent transition of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar
+condition which pressed me to prolonged and unguarded energy. I
+went through thicket and brier patch, over logs and gullies, and
+when I paused I knew not where I was.</p>
+<p>After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly
+direction so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more
+to the north; I changed my course then, bending toward the north,
+and before sunrise reached the creek which, on the preceding night,
+I had crossed after leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was
+above me or below, so I crossed the stream at the place where I
+struck it, and went straight away from it through the swamp.</p>
+<p>After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing
+my course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there
+was no response.</p>
+<p>No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My
+present course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I
+should get farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume
+any direction as the right one, I should be likely to have guessed
+wrong. I spent an hour working my way laboriously through the
+swamp, making wide and wider sweeps to reach some opening or some
+tree on higher ground. At last I saw open ground on my left. I went
+rapidly to it, and found a field, with a fence separating it from
+the woods,--the fence running east and west,--and saw, several
+hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the field at which I
+had stationed Jones.</p>
+<p>At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As
+I came near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting
+on the ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I
+was in his rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses;
+he sprang quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the
+muzzle of his gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and
+Jones advanced, frightened.</p>
+<p>"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why
+didn't you signal sooner?"</p>
+<p>"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I
+am glad to see you so watchful."</p>
+<p>"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he;
+"what have you done with your other clothes?"</p>
+<p>"Had to throw them away."</p>
+<p>"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you
+are--and from that direction."</p>
+<p>This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate
+standing with a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels,
+I had felt no visible contrast with them. Since I had left the
+wagon I had had no time for thought of personal appearance. Now I
+looked at myself. My hands were scratched with briers; my hat was
+torn; a great hole was over one knee, which I had used most in
+crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having been more rapid than
+cautious in crossing the creek. For more than twenty-four hours my
+mind had been on too great a strain to think of the body. By the
+side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general questioning an
+uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.</p>
+<p>"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The
+horses have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I
+need one, but it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to
+know."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route
+which we had followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones
+the position and force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken
+and he left, he could report to General Morell. We avoided the
+fields and roads, and stuck to the woods, keeping a sharp lookout
+ahead, but going rapidly. At the first water which we saw I took
+time to give my head a good souse.</p>
+<p>Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above
+Crump's Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at
+our left, seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I
+crept toward the road until I could see part of it winding over the
+hill. About twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they
+numbered just twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going
+at a gallop up the hill, and apparently excited--running from
+danger, I thought. They disappeared over the hill. I thought it
+quite likely that some of our cavalry were advancing on the road,
+and that it would be well for me to wait where I was; if I should
+go back and call Jones to come, our men might pass while I was
+gone.</p>
+<p>In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow
+walk, another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were
+armed with lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I
+remembered much talk in the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment
+of lancers.</p>
+<p>As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I
+boldly left my place of concealment and walked out into the road.
+The cavalry halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I
+shall here call Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode
+out a little to the front of his men, and said, "So you have given
+it up?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of
+it."</p>
+<p>"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up
+behind one of my men. We want you."</p>
+<p>For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road
+before their eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain
+cried out, "Here, Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the
+rear!"</p>
+<p>"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades
+is near by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he
+interrupted me, crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your
+comrades. No more from you, sir!"</p>
+<p>As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant
+and detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the
+sergeant, but he refused to hear me.</p>
+<p>This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a
+short while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not
+understood from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct
+duty that I had not once thought of my pretended character. For his
+part, the captain had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter
+coming into the Union lines. This was now simple enough, but why,
+under such circumstances, he had not questioned me in regard to
+what was in his front, I could not at all understand. I tried again
+to speak, but was commanded to be silent.</p>
+<p>This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only
+serious consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he
+would wait for me indefinitely, and would be captured. Although
+such a result could bring no blame to me, yet I was very anxious
+about him. Concerning myself, I knew that I could suffer restraint
+but a very short time; just so soon as I could get speech with any
+officer willing to listen, I should be set right.</p>
+<p>The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's
+shop, some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought
+before Colonel Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry
+regiments which had advanced from Old Church on that morning.</p>
+<p>Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the
+regiments were under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported
+that I was a Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry
+had found in the woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded,
+and began to question me.</p>
+<p>"When did you leave your regiment?"</p>
+<p>"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.</p>
+<p>"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be
+sure that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"</p>
+<p>"The 24th, I think, sir."</p>
+<p>"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"</p>
+<p>"From what place, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"Why, from Hanover."</p>
+<p>"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."</p>
+<p>"What is your regiment?"</p>
+<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."</p>
+<p>The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his
+countenance.</p>
+<p>"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man,
+Sergeant?"</p>
+<p>The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it,
+Colonel. I only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried
+to talk to Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send
+him back at once."</p>
+<p>"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"</p>
+<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a
+smile.</p>
+<p>"Then what are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"But what were you doing when you were captured?"</p>
+<p>"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the
+lancers, I was returning from a scout."</p>
+<p>"What brigade do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>"General Grover's."</p>
+<p>"What division?"</p>
+<p>"General Hooker's."</p>
+<p>"Where is your regiment now?"</p>
+<p>"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was
+there on the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."</p>
+<p>The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate
+deserter; he was beginning to believe my story; his tone
+altered.</p>
+<p>"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"</p>
+<p>"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was
+just returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but
+they would not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would
+not let me speak."</p>
+<p>The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you
+are a Union soldier?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to
+carry anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to
+General Morell."</p>
+<p>"Where is General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"On the reserve line near New Bridge."</p>
+<p>"Why send you to General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Because I must make my report to him."</p>
+<p>"Did he send you out?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to
+General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about,
+but it is perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to
+General Morell, the whole matter will be cleared up to your
+satisfaction. I beg you to do so at once. I know that General
+Morell will consider my report important, and will be disappointed
+if it should be delayed, sir."</p>
+<p>"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your
+person. I shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim
+you and justify your claims."</p>
+<p>"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and
+what would you do with me?"</p>
+<p>"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say
+you are not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not
+need you."</p>
+<p>"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come
+voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"</p>
+<p>"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union
+man, but you cannot prove it."</p>
+<p>"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General
+Morell, I beg that you at once send back for my companion."</p>
+<p>"What companion?"</p>
+<p>"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany
+me. He is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our
+horses, and I fear he will wait too long for me, and be
+captured."</p>
+<p>"By the lancers?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."</p>
+<p>"But why did you not tell me this before?"</p>
+<p>"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General
+Morell; you refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify
+me to you; but time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."</p>
+<p>Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who
+at once went off, accompanied by his two men.</p>
+<p>"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the
+colonel.</p>
+<p>"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."</p>
+<p>"But if I order you to report to me?"</p>
+<p>"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"</p>
+<p>"What has that got to do with it?"</p>
+<p>"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to
+betray his cause," said I.</p>
+<p>"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.</p>
+<p>"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one,
+after having reached safety?"</p>
+<p>"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been
+lost, and if so you are properly a prisoner of war."</p>
+<p>"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition
+of the Union army?"</p>
+<p>"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the
+benefit of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the
+presence of the enemy."</p>
+<p>"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our
+advanced troops should be in any danger."</p>
+<p>"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking
+a small force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's
+nest."</p>
+<p>"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."</p>
+<p>"What force is in our front?"</p>
+<p>"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery.
+There are cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."</p>
+<p>"And where are they?"</p>
+<p>"The cavalry?"</p>
+<p>"The whole force of which you speak."</p>
+<p>"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day
+this morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."</p>
+<p>"Do you know who commands them?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Who is it?"</p>
+<p>"General Branch."</p>
+<p>"Did you see him?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir."</p>
+<p>"How then do you know that he is in command?"</p>
+<p>"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not
+know that General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know
+that the troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."</p>
+<p>"How did you learn it? A man told you?"</p>
+<p>"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."</p>
+<p>"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.</p>
+<p>I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers.
+It was easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I
+was telling the truth.</p>
+<p>In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and
+accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once
+handed the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in
+little more than two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and
+made my report.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with
+valuable results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not
+moved, and that he would gladly send a statement of my work to
+General Grover, and would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme
+until actually ordered back to the left. He then told me to go back
+to my quarters and rest; that I must get all the rest I could, and
+as quickly as possible.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me,
+to shield my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon
+at Dr. Khayme's tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing
+off the hot blanket. Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised
+her hands; in an instant she sat again, trembling. She was very
+white.</p>
+<p>"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you:
+Father prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at
+the earliest." She was still all a-tremble.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide
+from all eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the
+Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is;
+he said he should be back to supper."</p>
+<p>Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have
+had hard work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to
+know what success you have had."</p>
+<p>"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.</p>
+<p>"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all
+night with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to
+learn."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest
+till he comes, although I should like to hear all about it."</p>
+<p>"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be
+plain with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with
+all the clothes I've got."</p>
+<p>She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You
+need rest, though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get
+some sleep."</p>
+<p>When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would
+not come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand
+open the tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and
+saw my name on the package, which proved to contain a new uniform.
+I dressed and went out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking
+supper. I asked him who gave him the package he had put into the
+tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done sont me wid a note to de ginnle
+en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en' dat man he gimme de
+bunnle."</p>
+<p>The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a
+detailed account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with
+interest as I talked, and Lydia saying not a word.</p>
+<p>When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for
+her interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I
+was trying to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new
+uniform, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her
+father.</p>
+<p>Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and
+torn--that I pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not
+knowing what else to do."</p>
+<p>"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the
+conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack
+Built."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the
+note. I am thinking that I'll become a collector of
+autographs."</p>
+<p>"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the
+log, come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he
+was trying to desert?"</p>
+<p>"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered
+with him. Speed was what I wanted just then."</p>
+<p>"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he
+can come."</p>
+<p>"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said
+Lydia; "if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray
+us?"</p>
+<p>"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the
+simple truth," said the Doctor.</p>
+<p>"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had
+accepted his company."</p>
+<p>"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain
+Lewis,"--the Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by
+his name,--"in talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your
+voice loud enough for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved
+you at once."</p>
+<p>"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at
+all. Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones
+would have settled matters."</p>
+<p>"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you
+were Roderick Dhu."</p>
+<p>"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact,
+all those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect
+that the captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command
+in front of Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and
+that he blustered to hide his scare."</p>
+<p>It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The
+Doctor had smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not
+fill it again. He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have
+done a good day's work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched
+between two days. General Morell ought to reward you."</p>
+<p>"I do not want any reward," said I.</p>
+<p>"You would not like a commission?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.</p>
+<p>"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to
+you in many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be
+really lighter, but you would command more respect from others.
+That captain of the lancers will not think of apologizing to you;
+but if he knew you as Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to
+write you a note. If promotion is offered you,--and it ought to be
+offered,--you ought not to refuse it."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that
+way."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2>
+<h3>THE BATTLE OF HANOVER</h3>
+<center>"The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.<br>
+Here is the guess of their true strength and forces<br>
+By diligent discovery; but your haste<br>
+Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General
+Morell.</p>
+<p>"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard
+work. Have you had a good rest?"</p>
+<p>I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I
+had suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.</p>
+<p>"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you
+must help me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn
+will come, too, some day."</p>
+<p>"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"</p>
+<p>"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been
+fully corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some
+six to ten regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or
+was there last night, and is supposed to be there now. A division
+of this army will march against Branch. Now I will show you what
+you must do for us. Here," pointing on the map to a road running
+south, along the railroad from Hanover Court-House, "here you see
+the road you were on with the wagons. At this point--a mile and a
+half or two miles southeast of Hanover--is the road running down
+the river--the road you followed after crossing Crump's Creek. The
+force which will march against Branch will be sufficient to crush
+him, and we must prevent him from escaping in the direction of
+Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on his right.
+Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--<i>his</i>
+right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into
+the Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should
+simply drive him toward Richmond."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I see," said I.</p>
+<p>"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and
+nearer Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a
+considerable distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he
+has been put where he is for the purpose of observing our right and
+rear until he is re&euml;nforced. On the 23d, we occupied
+Mechanicsville, and our possession of that place may have so
+interfered with or so threatened Branch's plans that he will make
+some movement. The truth is, to be frank with you, he is in a false
+position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction at once and unite
+there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march from
+Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
+army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want
+you to understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you,
+and because I think I can trust you."</p>
+<p>"Well, General?"</p>
+<p>"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do
+in a critical moment."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our
+attack should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover
+Court-House, and find that the rebels have left that place and have
+moved further south, we shall be attacking their left instead of
+their right, and they can retreat toward Richmond. In case they
+have moved south, we must not march on the Court-House; we must
+attack their right, wherever that may be. Now, that is what you
+must do for us: find out where Branch's right flank rests before we
+make the attack."</p>
+<p>"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."</p>
+<p>"Exactly."</p>
+<p>"When do you march, General?"</p>
+<p>"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You
+will have to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next
+day."</p>
+<p>"I can see one thing, General."</p>
+<p>"What is that?"</p>
+<p>"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of
+its moving after I report."</p>
+<p>"Very well; hang to it."</p>
+<p>"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I
+do hang to it."</p>
+<p>"As much help as you want."</p>
+<p>"Have you another man as good as Jones?"</p>
+<p>"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"</p>
+<p>"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be
+thoroughly depended upon."</p>
+<p>"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you
+want, and anything else that you want--speak out."</p>
+<p>"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for
+you, General?"</p>
+<p>"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of
+Branch!"</p>
+<p>"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is
+Jones and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be
+found, I want only Jones."</p>
+<p>"What would be your plans?"</p>
+<p>"I should report by the third man the first information of
+importance; then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang
+to it myself, and report if it moves. You will need to know where
+Branch's right is at the moment when you are ready to strike--not
+where it was an hour before."</p>
+<p>"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be
+found."</p>
+<p>"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such
+a man. He might get himself caught and endanger your whole
+plan."</p>
+<p>"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I
+must tell you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the
+movement. Warren is now at Old Church; he will march by the road
+that you were on yesterday, while we march upon roads at his left.
+You understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General."</p>
+<p>"Then that is all."</p>
+<p>"May I say a word, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; certainly."</p>
+<p>"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a
+shorter distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement
+before they know of yours, they will almost be sure to change
+position."</p>
+<p>"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed
+not to attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to
+General Porter again about this."</p>
+<p>"Can I see Jones, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"</p>
+<p>"To-morrow morning, sir."</p>
+<p>"At what hour?"</p>
+<p>"After breakfast."</p>
+<p>"Can you think of nothing else you need?"</p>
+<p>"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."</p>
+<p>"Nothing else?"</p>
+<p>"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about
+that, but I know that Dr. Khayme has none."</p>
+<p>"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.</p>
+<p>"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I
+could not help him."</p>
+<p>"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet
+laughing.</p>
+<p>"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for
+it."</p>
+<p>"Well, I'll send it through Jones."</p>
+<p>"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."</p>
+<p>"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own,
+or rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there
+anything about it to betray me?"</p>
+<p>"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you
+have thought of everything?"</p>
+<p>"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind
+before we start, I'll let you know."</p>
+<p>"Be sure to do it."</p>
+<p>Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man
+named Frank were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I
+learned, was chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones
+what we should need, and he promised to be ready.</p>
+<p>In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia
+sat silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left
+wing had crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried
+to start an argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by
+war, but meeting no encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is
+that I needed rest and sleep. When the Doctor had had his first
+smoke, Lydia rose and took his pipe from him. "We must tell Mr.
+Berwick good night, Father. He has work to do to-morrow."</p>
+<p>The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia
+was right. Lydia did not laugh.</p>
+<p>Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly
+refreshed. While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in
+with me, Jones and Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and
+we soon were off.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across
+the Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and
+work our way toward the Confederate right and rear.</p>
+<p>We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far
+above the place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and
+then took to the woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had
+ascertained from the map, was at the west of the railroad. We were
+now on neutral ground. The usual order of our advance was Jones in
+the lead, I following him at not more than forty yards, and Frank
+coming behind me at more than twice that distance. Jones was
+directed to halt and ride back every time that he should see
+anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have occasion to
+observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
+Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
+order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
+fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he
+waved his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I
+had pulled up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke
+in front."</p>
+<p>I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no
+noise, but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees,
+which, he said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was
+directed to dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn
+what caused it. He returned very soon, and said there was a house
+in a small field just before us, and that a wide road ran in front
+of the house. We made a detour and passed on.</p>
+<p>About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the
+road, as I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about
+halfway between Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across
+the Chickahominy, and still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of
+one of its branches. We crossed the road, selecting a place where
+there were two sudden bends, and looking well both ways before
+venturing. After crossing, I directed Jones to take his stand near
+the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road from the upper bend,
+while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had made in crossing
+the road. We were now within less than a mile of the Virginia
+Central railroad.</p>
+<p>I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went
+with Jones toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or
+rather as far from it as he could be and yet see it. Then I
+returned to Frank and took his place, directing him to find Jones
+and then occupy a position as nearly as possible halfway between
+Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect me with Jones and to
+care for the three horses, which were brought together in the
+centre lest they should be heard. We were now in position to
+observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
+Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
+the night.</p>
+<p>From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for
+half the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of
+course, that I could hear the trains. Rain had set in at
+nightfall.</p>
+<p>About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up
+the road. I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining,
+I could make out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a
+company. I concluded that the rebels were to the north of us, that
+is to say, that if they had moved at all, they were yet between us
+and Hanover Court-House.</p>
+<p>After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much
+more definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones.
+The three of us then made north, through the woods, leading our
+horses. We had a hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the
+trees struck our faces. There was hardly enough light to see the
+trunks of the trees. At last we reached an opening through which I
+feared to advance.</p>
+<p>We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The
+rebels were yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might
+be anywhere--might be upon us at any moment.</p>
+<p>Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to
+find that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the
+north. I returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road
+and continued north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half
+a mile. It was now nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods
+on this dark night there was little fear of encountering any enemy;
+their cavalry pickets would be in the roads.</p>
+<p>I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles
+from us, and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we
+ought soon to see the light of his camp-fires.</p>
+<p>Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of
+us. I directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should
+halt, with his horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I
+went forward on foot, Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At
+the bottom of the hill I found a small stream. Bidding Jones return
+to Frank and bring him and all the horses up to the branch, I went
+up the next hill, still in the open. At the top of the hill I found
+a straggling thicket of small pines, not more than a hundred feet
+in width; from the far side of this thicket I saw more open ground
+before me. I went back, hoping to find my comrades at the branch.
+As I went down the hill I heard them coming down the opposite
+slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the horses
+struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
+and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until
+daylight.</p>
+<p>The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep
+them from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left
+as far as the road, and to return and examine the ground to our
+right for a few hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I
+went forward nearly half a mile, going first over open ground, then
+through a thick but narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a
+hill from which I could see through the rain a dim light which I
+supposed was caused by camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my
+left, at a considerable distance--perhaps more than a mile
+away.</p>
+<p>Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the
+road was only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with
+woods on the other side of it, and that on our right there was
+nothing but a wood which extended to a swamp.</p>
+<p>Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they
+rolled themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine
+bush. The rain was pouring down.</p>
+<p>At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our
+way across the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would
+soon, wash out all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved
+southward some miles, increasing his distance from the
+Pamunkey.</p>
+<p>We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our
+forces again. Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and
+Frank in the centre. We moved northward, stopping every hundred
+yards or so, to be certain that our communications were intact.
+Jones was so near the railroad that I began to think the train of
+cars I had heard running had not been on the Central, but farther
+away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in this place runs
+almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the westward. In
+the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a greater
+distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me suspect
+that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for we
+should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
+decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
+toward the rear of the enemy's camp.</p>
+<p>It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the
+railroad. We still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad
+at our right at distances varying from one hundred to three hundred
+yards. We ascended a low hill, from which there might have been a
+good lookout but for the rain. I used General Morell's glass, but
+could not make out anything in front.</p>
+<p>Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than
+half a mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets
+must be very near to us.</p>
+<p>Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men
+keep a close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness
+to bring me my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the
+possibility of detection and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I
+found at the bottom of it a small brook flowing northeastward, and
+changed my course at once to suit the stream. I went slowly and
+cautiously on through weeds and bushes, sometimes wading down the
+stream itself, the water being already very muddy from the rains,
+and at last, while bending to right and left and up and down
+seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
+infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing
+south, and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west
+side of the railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved
+from Hanover Court-House, or else that here was another body of men
+who had taken position on his right.</p>
+<p>Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the
+hill, and directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to
+General Morell or General Porter, who would no doubt be met
+advancing on the road, and report that the enemy had taken such a
+position that in order to reach his right flank it would be
+necessary for the Union troops to cross to the west side of the
+Central railroad some miles south of Hanover Court-House. I
+directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch had
+really moved or had been re&euml;nforced, and to say that I should
+endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
+through Jones.</p>
+<p>Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.</p>
+<p>I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw
+that all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to
+sentiment.</p>
+<p>My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket,
+with which I had been covered all night as a protection from the
+rain. I took nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed
+Jones to remain where he was, and if I should not return in one
+hour, to conclude that I was entangled with the enemy, and that I
+could not get away in time; that he must assume from my absence
+that the rebel right extended far, because if it did not I should
+return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must start to meet our
+advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber himself with
+my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in the day.
+I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before the
+advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
+upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell
+before dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended
+the situation, and promised to follow my instructions.</p>
+<p>Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette;
+he was yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore,
+stretched across the branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a
+gully which favoured me, and crept to my left up the hill. At the
+top of the hill I entered thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and
+looked and listened. Drums could be heard toward the north, and
+seemingly nearer than before; I thought I could hear the long roll,
+and feared that the Union advance was already known by the
+Confederates.</p>
+<p>Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very
+slowly. My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in
+it, folded and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was
+already wet. Again I went forward slowly. Soon I saw another
+vedette, facing south. I retired, and made progress rapidly through
+the woods to my left; then I crawled up a long distance. I had
+hoped to be able to determine the right of the enemy's pickets and
+then return to Jones and send him with my report, while I should
+remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops when Jones should have
+succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found the pickets posted
+in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a very
+difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
+Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a
+prudent approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I
+would retreat through the woods until I was out of danger; then I
+would go fifty or a hundred yards to my left, and approach, again
+on my hands and knees until I discovered a man, when I would
+retreat again, and so on alternately. At one place I saw the
+picket-line itself stretching across the top of an open hill, with
+the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the hollow in front. I was
+compelled to go almost entirely around a field, taking a back track
+for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward again on the west
+side of the field.</p>
+<p>About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped
+in one respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more
+alert, and I felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the
+line. I made another advance, and this time continued advancing,
+for to my gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in
+front of me. I thought at first that it had been thrown back here,
+and that I was now going along the western front.</p>
+<p>To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went
+perhaps three hundred yards without finding anything, and felt
+convinced that there was no western front to the rebel line. I
+continued to advance eastward, going straight toward the railroad.
+At length I had gone a quarter of a mile, and had found
+nothing.</p>
+<p>Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been
+withdrawn while I was going around the field, and I conjectured
+that the Confederates had become aware of the approach of our
+column, and had retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our
+advancing troops.</p>
+<p>Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
+southeasterly direction.</p>
+<p>For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be
+well to state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the
+cavalry under General Emory, at the head of our column, and had
+reported to him as well as to General Morell; and that our column
+had advanced by the road we had left, had thrown out a
+skirmish-line which extended beyond the railroad, but not far
+enough, and had continued to advance until the enemy were felt.</p>
+<p>The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were
+of Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning
+of the battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.</p>
+<p>At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North
+Carolina under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head
+of Crump's Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column,
+which had thus interposed, without knowing it, between the two
+bodies of Confederates. At the first warning of the Union advance,
+General Branch had formed his troops facing the east and southeast,
+and covering the Ashcake road, which runs in a sort of semicircle
+from the Hanover road to Ashland on the west, so that the attack of
+the Union forces against the main body of rebels merely forced them
+to give ground in the direction of Ashland. Lane, at Taliaferro's
+Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did later in the
+afternoon with considerable loss.</p>
+<p>Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having
+moved somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our
+troops. I soon became aware of this fact by seeing straggling
+Confederate soldiers in the woods in several directions; some of
+them seemed to be wounded.</p>
+<p>Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this
+time it was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of
+battle were advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me,
+giving me no attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining
+still, however, but walking about in the woods in order to prevent
+the possibility of being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited
+the issue.</p>
+<p>Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I
+began to fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.</p>
+<p>An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a
+southeasterly direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring
+to throw a force in the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on
+nearly to Hanover Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment,
+leaving Branch on their left flank and in position to do great
+damage<a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2">[2]</a>. Branch
+attacked vigorously, but was eventually forced back. Again men
+began to rush by me, and this time some of them were in actual
+flight. There were many wounded; gradually the woods were scattered
+over with a regiment or two, the troops showing various degrees of
+disorganization, some of the companies holding together and
+retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups, were making their
+way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet all in the
+same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
+rallying-place.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a>
+On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's
+brigade. The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the
+Pamunkey, no doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating
+northward. Lane was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch
+for some days; the story of his retreat and return to Branch is
+very interesting. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I
+decided quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for
+me to remain an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I
+thought, too, that it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out
+of this mass of men by going in a northerly or southerly direction,
+either of which would be taking them in line, if they could be said
+to have a line. I saw, of course, that if I should simply stop--it
+would have been easy to play the wounded Confederate--the Union
+troops would soon pick me up; but I wanted to see where the
+defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly wounded, I suppose,
+threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up the gun--an
+Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to me, the
+disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
+stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw
+away. I soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my
+own canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the
+rebels--I became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.</p>
+<p>No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen.
+The Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon
+make a stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the
+contagion and ran along with running men, although I was sure that
+organised bodies were now covering our rear. I had no distinct
+purpose except to determine the new line.</p>
+<p>After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of
+the scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding
+about and trying to make the men get into some sort of formation.
+Evening was near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me
+the brigade would be formed again and would make a new stand, or
+else retreat in better order in the night.</p>
+<p>I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but
+felt confident that Jones would recover him.</p>
+<p>As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at
+last ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line
+across a road running to the westward, which I believed, from my
+knowledge of the map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this
+forming line I hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make
+no pretence of joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far
+from it. Then the thought came to me that these disorganized
+battalions ware forming in any shape they could now take--men
+belonging to different companies, and even to different regiments,
+being side by side; so I got into line with them.</p>
+<p>I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a
+spy might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.</p>
+<p>The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the
+soldier, but they were very bitter against some general or other
+unknown to me, and equally so to them, as it appeared; he had
+allowed them to be defeated when they could easily have been
+re&euml;nforced. From the talk which I heard I drew the inference
+that there was a large force of Confederates within supporting
+distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me so
+greatly that I determined to remain longer with these
+troops--perhaps even until the next day.</p>
+<p>It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I
+could see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road
+to Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not
+see it; but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still
+unbroken, under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It
+would have been very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time,
+either to the right or to the left, into the woods--or into open
+ground for that matter--and get away, but such was not now my
+intention.</p>
+<p>The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while
+on the march to find their respective regiments and companies.
+Mounted men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying
+out: "Flag of Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is
+behind you," and so on, thus telling the men where to find their
+commands. It was really good work, I thought. A little before
+midnight--or it may have been much earlier, for I was well-nigh
+worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads which I afterward knew
+to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond roads about a mile
+and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men could easily find
+their commands, and I knew that perfect organization would be
+effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
+formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.</p>
+<p>By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east
+for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first
+spreading my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted
+almost to exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my
+predecessor's haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food,
+and slept soundly the remainder of the night.</p>
+<p>At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I
+found in the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my
+gun and accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three
+bands; the cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single
+waist-belt, the scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no
+bayonet. The brass plate on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S.
+plate; the belt-buckle also was Federal; both plate and buckle had
+been turned upside down, so that each bore the inverted letters S
+U. There were a few cartridges in the box--such cartridges as I had
+not seen before. I found that the rifle was not loaded, and I
+allowed it to remain empty.</p>
+<p>After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had
+gone. I examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud
+were pointing toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time
+openly in the road, for I was as good a Confederate as need be
+unless I should be overtaken by any of our own men. I considered
+now that this force of the enemy was likely to establish connection
+at once with the main Confederate lines near Richmond, if indeed it
+had not already done so, and that if I should turn southward I
+should be in danger of being forced into the ranks and questioned,
+so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine if possible the
+left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme left of the
+whole Confederate army.</p>
+<p>In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of
+the village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an
+hour after sunrise placed myself in observation between the
+Fredericksburg railroad and the Richmond road, which here run
+parallel due north and about half a mile apart. I was facing
+south.</p>
+<p>About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the
+rear of my left the Richmond road full of troops marching
+southward. I crawled up as near to the road as I dared, and watched
+them. There seemed to be but one regiment, which was a large one.
+Three or four officers rode at the head of the regiment; one, who I
+supposed was the colonel, was a large, heavy-built man who sat his
+horse proudly<a name="FNanchor3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3">[3]</a>.
+The men marched at the route step; the regiment was in fine order.
+In the centre were two flags: one an ordinary Confederate
+battle-flag; the other an immense blue banner, emblazoned with the
+silver palmetto tree. I could not tell the number of the regiment,
+although by this time I had my glass fixed on the flag. The
+Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed, entered Ashland.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor3">[3]</a>
+Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
+Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina.
+[Ed.]</blockquote>
+<p>I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained
+in this position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement.
+At nightfall I crept up nearer to the village and found a
+comfortable resting-place in an old haystack, east of the
+place.</p>
+<p>The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad,
+with the purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied
+by the rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw
+three Union soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at
+the same time. One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw
+up my hands. They belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry.
+I easily succeeded in proving to the lieutenant in command, who
+soon rode up at the head of the company, and whose name I learned
+was Watkins, that I was a Union scout. The sight of General
+Morell's glass had its effect.</p>
+<p>I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong
+force in Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town.
+The lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash
+into the place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in
+our hands. In the village were some stragglers who also were made
+prisoners. We remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry
+securing much property. There were a good many horses taken, one of
+which the lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.</p>
+<p>The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all
+the country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was
+nothing to hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The
+general told me that they had given me up for lost, and asked what
+had become of me after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my
+work, and he was pleased to say that he approved of what I had
+done. He told me that Jones had recovered the horse that I had
+abandoned.</p>
+<p>As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering
+it; the tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle;
+then I called him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few
+words I told him of my work, and why I had been away so long.</p>
+<p>"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to
+Lydia, too, who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded
+from your battle."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XIX"></a>XIX</h2>
+<h3>THE ACCURSED NIGHT</h3>
+<center>"If ever I were traitor, My name be blotted from the book
+of life, And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very
+tired, although I had had a good rest the night before, and
+alternations of walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon
+despatched, and the Doctor got his pipe.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on
+your own dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake
+brought it."</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can
+content myself till bedtime as I am."</p>
+<p>"How long have you had it on?"</p>
+<p>"Almost two days."</p>
+<p>"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"</p>
+<p>"Not just at this moment, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians
+again?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."</p>
+<p>"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."</p>
+<p>"It was the First, very likely," said he.</p>
+<p>This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many
+times before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr.
+Khayme. I thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was
+that he obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.</p>
+<p>"Why should you think so, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications
+with our Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with
+Charleston. I know that the First South Carolina regiment was on
+Sullivan's Island early in 1861, some months before the bombardment
+of Fort Sumter, and I remember reading in the <i>Mercury</i> that
+the ladies of Charleston had presented the First with a very heavy
+blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver palmetto and
+crescent."</p>
+<p>"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto
+and the crescent."</p>
+<p>"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one
+of the regiments which were lately under Anderson near
+Fredericksburg, and we know that Anderson's force has fallen back
+on Richmond. It must have passed through Ashland very
+recently."</p>
+<p>"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to
+know," said I, musingly.</p>
+<p>"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."</p>
+<p>"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and
+somebody had recognized me?"</p>
+<p>"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might
+have recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet
+might have sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to
+everybody at school that you were from the North?"</p>
+<p>"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of
+course, some of the boys knew it."</p>
+<p>"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man
+in the Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."</p>
+<p>"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."</p>
+<p>"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their
+homes; that is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who
+reason, and the others don't count."</p>
+<p>"They might at least be neutral," I said.</p>
+<p>"How could they think that being neutral would defend their
+homes?"</p>
+<p>"And you think that the Southern people really believe their
+homes in danger?"</p>
+<p>"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen
+more than one Southern home destroyed?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South,
+far away from the armies."</p>
+<p>"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from
+armies; to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also.
+I wonder what's the matter with us."</p>
+<p>"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true,
+I have been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you.
+Our trades, however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this
+time, if ever."</p>
+<p>"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't
+wish to," said I.</p>
+<p>"You need never fight another battle," said he.</p>
+<p>"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day;
+you ought not to fight at all."</p>
+<p>"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"</p>
+<p>"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."</p>
+<p>"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall
+likely be required to do both."</p>
+<p>"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the
+Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is
+not very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of
+course, you can do so if you insist upon it."</p>
+<p>"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"</p>
+<p>"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."</p>
+<p>"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh
+unless I had other work at the time."</p>
+<p>"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your
+cause, or your poorest?"</p>
+<p>"Can I not do both?"</p>
+<p>"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and
+make an art of it."</p>
+<p>"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a
+terrible thought to me."</p>
+<p>"Why so?"</p>
+<p>"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."</p>
+<p>"You allude to your memory?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What effect does spying have upon you?"</p>
+<p>"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted
+in my life as when I came back on the 24th."</p>
+<p>"You had had a hard time, no doubt."</p>
+<p>"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I
+believe that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was
+a Union soldier."</p>
+<p>"That only shows that you acted your part."</p>
+<p>"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a
+Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the
+next moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."</p>
+<p>"Very likely."</p>
+<p>"I'd prefer being in the ranks."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your
+sufferings?"</p>
+<p>"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly
+contrasted with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I
+become another, and I can see two of me at once."</p>
+<p>"And that proves painful?"</p>
+<p>"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order
+to succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."</p>
+<p>"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones;
+the relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But
+for your recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent
+real and practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could
+not become, in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends
+largely on memory. The extraordinary vividness of your memory
+produces a corresponding vividness in imagining. You see how
+valuable are your peculiar powers. I have no doubt that with a
+little data concerning some narrow section of the South, such as
+knowledge of family names and family history, you could join the
+Confederate army and play a most important role, giving to your
+generals information of contemplated movements as well as of
+movements, in actual progress."</p>
+<p>"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a
+life."</p>
+<p>"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my
+emotion; "I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more
+likely to confirm your intermittent states. What you need is to get
+rid entirely of any necessity for the exercise of either memory or
+imagination for a time. To cherish either is to cherish both. On
+the contrary, any great and long-continued interest, which would
+dissociate you from your past, would, in my judgment, prove the end
+of your peculiar states."</p>
+<p>I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time.
+When he spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and
+hope for the best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the
+total. Keep up your spirits. War has many startling opportunities
+as well as disasters."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were
+heard miles away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the
+whole of McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company
+was actually in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report
+for me to our adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the
+Doctor's solicitation, a few words to General Grover.</p>
+<p>This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it,
+raged during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June
+1st, and did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of
+McClellan's left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in
+reserve, and did not become engaged. While the battle was in
+progress, intense but subdued excitement was shown by the men in
+General Morell's command, and by the other troops on the right. On
+the part of all, there was constant expectation of orders to march
+to the help of the Union forces on the further side of the
+Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle came, in which
+our men had more than held their own, disappointment at not being
+chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed to
+feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his
+tent, he busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order
+came from General Morell for me to report to him at once.</p>
+<p>Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two
+officers unknown to me. The one who most attracted my
+attention--though I was careful not to show any curiosity--was a
+man of nearly forty years, of medium height and muscular frame. His
+hair was dark; his mustache very slightly tinged with gray. His
+manner indicated an extremely nervous sense of responsibility, and
+the attitude of deference, which the others observed in his regard,
+was very noticeable. His face reminded me vaguely of some
+portrait--I knew not whose.</p>
+<p>The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and
+of a more cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single
+opportunity. He seemed to be on a very familiar footing with the
+officer whom I have first mentioned.</p>
+<p>General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers.
+In the middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was
+spread, and around which the three officers were sitting. General
+Morell allowed me to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some
+words of a conversation which I supposed had been practically
+finished before I entered.</p>
+<p>"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the
+smaller officer.</p>
+<p>"Perfectly," said General Morell.</p>
+<p>The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.</p>
+<p>"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know
+certainly whether we have the means in hand."</p>
+<p>The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one
+way, then in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty
+our present purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single
+man?"</p>
+<p>"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not
+divulge our intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a
+reconnaissance."</p>
+<p>"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is
+serious."</p>
+<p>"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell
+has confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own
+way."</p>
+<p>"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any
+plan might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I
+should say that we have nine chances out of ten."</p>
+<p>"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the
+others rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."</p>
+<p>The three now left the tent, while I remained.</p>
+<p>I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any
+title given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles
+had been suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not
+know, but that they were in great authority was not to be doubted;
+I made a wild guess that one was General Porter and the smaller man
+some trusted staff-officer from army headquarters<a name=
+"FNanchor4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4">[4]</a>.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor4">[4]</a>
+Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick
+describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts
+in the newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression.
+It is not a matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before
+been in the presence of the great general. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the
+table, then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At
+length he looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick,
+it is absolutely necessary for us here on this flank to get
+accurate information of the enemy's strength, and as soon as
+possible."</p>
+<p>"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his
+left wing."</p>
+<p>"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.</p>
+<p>"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or
+not, it must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the
+country, with the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can
+be plainly seen from our lines. We do not know how well fortified,
+or how many, are the troops opposed to us. We have information, but
+we fear that it is not reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in
+some of the most essential points. We do not know the length of the
+enemy's line; we suppose it rests on the James River above Richmond
+as well as below Richmond. That makes too long a line to be very
+strong in all its parts. Their left may be a mere skirmish-line;
+their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some parts of their line
+must be very thin, and it is suspected that their left is the
+thinnest part."</p>
+<p>To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force
+under Anderson from Fredericksburg has re&euml;nforced the army now
+under Lee, and we are not sure what position it holds. The force
+under Jackson causes great apprehension. From several quarters we
+get rumours of an intention or supposed intention of Lee to march
+Jackson against our right. If there is such a purpose, we ought, by
+all means, to anticipate the movement. If we are ever to attack, it
+ought not to be after Jackson re&euml;nforces Lee."</p>
+<p>While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon
+myself than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were
+readily understood: their implications in regard to myself were
+equally clear; he wanted me to serve again as a getter of
+information. My stomach rose against my trade; I had become
+nauseated--I don't know a better word --with this spying business.
+The strain upon me had been too great; the 23d and 24th of May had
+brought to my mental nature transitions too sudden and entire to be
+wholesome; I felt that only a positive command to enter the rebel
+lines would justify me in doing myself such violence again; I had
+begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.</p>
+<p>"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the
+man for our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"</p>
+<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more
+with the view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any
+intention of heeding his wishes.</p>
+<p>"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his
+left," said he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on
+our extreme right; we want you to find out what is opposite our
+right and what force extends beyond our front. The enemy's line
+curves or else has a salient somewhere beyond this point; his line
+turns somewhere and extends in some form to the James River. Find
+that salient or curve; ascertain its strength and the strength of
+their left, or western face."</p>
+<p>"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked,
+somewhat hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how
+impossible would be my suggestion.</p>
+<p>"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's
+lines," said the general.</p>
+<p>It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice
+in the matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered
+me; but I was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to
+explain my reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity
+I should suffer the loss of his respect--something I did not wish
+to forfeit.</p>
+<p>"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night;
+remain a day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night.
+The distance is not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few
+miles within their lines."</p>
+<p>Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no
+doubt that he honestly believed the reputed charm of such
+adventures fascinated me as well as others. But if that man on that
+accursed night of June had seen what was going on in me, he would
+have been far from choosing Jones Berwick as the man to send upon
+an enterprise that demanded a fixed purpose and an undisturbed
+mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme to see to it that I
+had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should follow
+worse.</p>
+<p>But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how
+could I presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general
+of a division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable,
+and who, as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments
+only, in order that he might accomplish a purpose.</p>
+<p>I must decline or accept without explaining.</p>
+<p>"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is
+wrong?"</p>
+<p>Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no
+longer; "I should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I
+said.</p>
+<p>He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he
+asked; then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection,
+however; Dr. Khayme will help rather than hinder."</p>
+<p>"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser
+than I am; if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as
+you say, General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great
+help."</p>
+<p>"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want
+with Dr. Khayme?"</p>
+<p>"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."</p>
+<p>"And what is the time now?"</p>
+<p>"Ten o'clock."</p>
+<p>"Can you wait my answer an hour?"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.</p>
+<p>The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being
+treated as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if
+not--if the general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and
+good--I would obey without further delay or hesitation.</p>
+<p>I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go
+into the enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into
+the enemy's lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my
+answer an hour."</p>
+<p>"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.</p>
+<p>I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no
+unpleasantness. Though scouts are under orders just as other men
+are, it is not hard to understand that generals feel it necessary
+to be somewhat delicate in their treatment of such peculiar
+servants. I suppose that, in the mind of a general, there always
+exists some fear that his spies will not prove as diligent and
+self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in my treatment of
+General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear: such a course
+would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the effect of
+my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.</p>
+<p>"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much
+upon the apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to
+apologize. Give me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it,
+and without mental reservation."</p>
+<p>"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any
+order to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you
+know, too, that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."</p>
+<p>"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer
+that you send some other man on this expedition."</p>
+<p>"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this
+present work."</p>
+<p>"Then order me to go, General."</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in
+one hour if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me
+his hand.</p>
+<p>As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the
+work offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some
+effect on me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me;
+perhaps the mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak,
+had exaggerated my fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at
+any rate, before I had reached the Doctor I was beginning to
+sympathize with General Morell, whose responsibility was so great,
+and whose evident desire to conciliate had touched me, and was
+wishing that I could have served him. Then, too, the question came
+to me what would General Morell do in case my refusal was final?
+And I had little doubt that the correct reply was: He will command
+me. And, in that case, our relationship would be weakened
+unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly. Yet,
+with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this
+frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute
+could occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter
+extreme of mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of
+mental danger, could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.</p>
+<p>To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no
+embarrassment; I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered
+by a doubt as to how much I should tell him of the necessity which
+prompted the demand for my work. The three generals had spoken of
+important matters before me, or at least hinted at them, and
+General Morell had been still more communicative. I made up my mind
+to say nothing of these matters to the Doctor.</p>
+<p>When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his
+writing. As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from
+his seat.</p>
+<p>"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."</p>
+<p>He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it
+is only a momentary unsteadiness."</p>
+<p>Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was
+then in Dr. Khayme's.</p>
+<p>I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor
+placed a finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking
+for both of us."</p>
+<p>He rose and brought me water, and I drank.</p>
+<p>Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must
+make with his will against impulse is not easy, especially with
+some natures; and a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield
+once is to become weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"</p>
+<p>I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew
+I could not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew
+the mind if ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was
+going on in the mind by the language of the features and the body.
+Especially did he know me. But possibly his knowledge was only
+general; he might infer, from apparent symptoms, that some mental
+trouble was now pressing hard upon me, and, without knowing the
+special nature of the trouble, might be prescribing the exercise of
+the will as a general remedy. Yet it mattered nothing to me, at the
+moment, I thought, how he knew.</p>
+<p>"You will not yield," said he.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of
+Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.</p>
+<p>"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to
+the little cottage in Charleston?"</p>
+<p>I nodded.</p>
+<p>"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to
+will. Do you remember it?"</p>
+<p>Again I nodded assent.</p>
+<p>"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free.
+If I should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no
+good. All that I can do is to say that the will is free."</p>
+<p>His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he
+said, although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I
+should surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former
+ground. Yet I doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I
+wished that he would speak again.</p>
+<p>"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be
+unobserved, or dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man
+accustomed to keep himself in subjection can fail to distinguish
+temptation from surrender."</p>
+<p>How well he could read me!</p>
+<p>"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily
+weakness, or through fear--- which is the same thing. But he who
+can will when he desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."</p>
+<p>I put his hand away and rose.</p>
+<p>"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.</p>
+<p>"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.</p>
+<p>"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies
+you?"</p>
+<p>"I go alone."</p>
+<p>He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He
+understood.</p>
+<p>"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen
+your body."</p>
+<p>He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured
+a spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.</p>
+<p>"It will be slow and last long," said he.</p>
+<p>He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he
+turned the pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I
+needed.</p>
+<p>"Do you go armed?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."</p>
+<p>He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the
+haversack, and put food in it.</p>
+<p>Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."</p>
+<p>"Anything you wish, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."</p>
+<p>It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.</p>
+<p>"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this
+book. Turn to May 23d. I will dictate."</p>
+<p>It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages
+divided into sections, which were headed with dates for the year
+1862.</p>
+<p>"Turn to May 23d," he had said.</p>
+<p>"I have it," said I.</p>
+<p>"Read the date," said he.</p>
+<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."</p>
+<p>"Now write."</p>
+<p>The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--</p>
+<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather
+clear."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862. "On camp guard. Letters from home.
+Showers. Marched at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862. "Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at
+night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862. "Marched but a few miles. Day very hot.
+Weather bad. Heavy rain at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched
+past--"</p>
+<p>"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the
+Doctor asked.</p>
+<p>"Branch's."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had
+been fighting.'"</p>
+<p>Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and
+write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the
+book lengthwise, and write Jones."</p>
+<p>I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."</p>
+<p>I put a capital B after Jones.</p>
+<p>"Let me see," said he.</p>
+<p>I showed him the book.</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before
+Jones."</p>
+<p>"Have you an eraser?"</p>
+<p>"I'll get one."</p>
+<p>The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B.
+before Jones.</p>
+<p>"We must get that dark spot out," said he.</p>
+<p>He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf,
+so that there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf
+above the writing.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."</p>
+<p>"What is all this for, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect
+you."</p>
+<p>"What time is it, Doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Ten minutes to eleven."</p>
+<p>"I must go."</p>
+<p>He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me
+bend to him, and kissed me.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me
+through our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My
+mind was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life;
+but the lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly
+understood, and I had voluntarily turned the die for duty after it
+had been cast for ease. All my hesitation had gone, leaving in its
+place disgust kept down by effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing
+in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing; I had desire, but knew it
+unattainable, and renounced its object. I would not hope for a
+happiness that might bring ruin on another.</p>
+<p>To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate;
+life at the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not
+yielded to this feeling even; I would be prudent and would
+accomplish what was hoped for, if my strength should serve.</p>
+<p>In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's
+commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had
+rejected it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to
+first perform a duty for which the honour had been soothingly
+offered.</p>
+<p>My plans--I had no plans. I had started.</p>
+<p>What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I
+was making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for
+an opportunity--that was all.</p>
+<p>The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and
+bush, and many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To
+follow every crook of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of
+the swamp and began to skirt its edge. I looked toward my
+right--the northeast; the sky reflected a dim glow from many dying
+camp-fires. I could see how the low swamp's edge bent in and out,
+and how I could make a straighter course than the river. In some
+places a path was found. Our pickets were supposed to be on the
+edge of the hills behind me.</p>
+<p>My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at
+right angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of
+them successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which
+I knew it would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by
+the Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at
+times to see if it had narrowed.</p>
+<p>About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I
+crossed a railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The
+ground was covered with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and
+was soft and slippery from recent high water. My progress was soon
+interrupted by a stream, flowing sluggishly to my left. I sought a
+crossing. The stream was not deep, but the slippery banks gave me
+great difficulty in the darkness. The water came to my waist; on
+the further side were hollows filled with standing water left by
+the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the Chickahominy.</p>
+<p>Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was
+supposed the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise
+the greatest care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid
+stumbling on one of them in the darkness, was a problem. Very
+likely they were placed from a hundred to two hundred yards apart,
+and near the bank of the stream, if practicable, especially at
+night, for the stream itself would not only be their protection,
+but also, by its difficulty and its splashing, would betray any
+force which should attempt to cross to the south side.</p>
+<p>But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line
+of vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream,
+would require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line,
+and such a line of vedettes could not well be maintained
+constantly--never is maintained, I think, unless an enemy's
+approach is momentarily feared, in which case you frequently have
+no vedettes at all. Following up this thought I concluded that the
+vedettes were, most likely, watching their front from the inner
+bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had its convex side
+toward the north, was my opportunity.</p>
+<p>I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became
+very great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was
+almost completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge
+of the water.</p>
+<p>Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved
+it up and down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the
+ground. To make no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of
+an inch might have caused a loud splash.</p>
+<p>Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in
+it to my knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward,
+raising my foot not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye
+and ear to note the slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to
+my middle.</p>
+<p>I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I
+crawled forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than
+believing, that I was keeping halfway between the sides of the
+bend.</p>
+<p>I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute
+had passed I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other
+at my left. The sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the
+vedette on either side of me was being relieved. My course had been
+right--I was midway between two sentinels.</p>
+<p>How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that
+the pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills.
+Lying there between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that
+a picket-line is relieved early in the day when troops are in
+position, as the armies were now. If I could see the relief coming,
+I would show myself just at the time it arrived, hoping that each
+party would take me to belong to the other.</p>
+<p>But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose
+any one of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan
+impracticable, what then?</p>
+<p>I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would
+make some other plan as I crawled forward.</p>
+<p>At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets?
+That the country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew,
+and I hoped that for this reason their infantry would be less
+watchful; but this thought did not make me any the less prudent and
+slow in my advance. I had easily succeeded in passing the vedettes;
+to avoid the vedette reliefs might not be easy.</p>
+<p>When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just
+beginning to show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and
+pickets? Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought.
+Why not climb? Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the
+thick boughs of a cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at
+least, it could do no good unless in case of sudden necessity. I
+must get through the picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once
+in rear of the Confederate pickets, I should have little or no
+trouble in remaining for days in the camps and in the main lines;
+getting through was the difficulty. Daylight was increasing.</p>
+<p>Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to
+this edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a
+relief come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a
+non-commissioned officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty
+yards of me. I let them pass. They went into the swamp. Five
+minutes later two men returned by the same route, or almost so, but
+came a little nearer to me; I saw them coming and felt for my
+glass, but did not find it. I supposed that Dr. Khayme had
+forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no doubt the same
+non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just relieved
+from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could distinctly
+see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled appearance.
+These men had seen hard service, evidently.</p>
+<p>Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men
+at my left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the
+swamp. These men wore uniforms fresh and clean.</p>
+<p>The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two
+vedettes belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some
+way to take advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to
+no purpose. Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go
+back to the vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man
+of the connecting line? He would probably think that I belonged to
+the command joining his. No doubt I could do this; but what should
+I gain? I should merely be losing time.</p>
+<p>Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate
+vedette between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could
+do so there was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.</p>
+<p>Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going
+forward boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the
+hill. The pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could
+strike between the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing
+might be done. Yet I wanted a better way.</p>
+<p>Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs
+of a tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come.
+They were talking, but I could not hear what they said.</p>
+<p>I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a
+large gully, only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to
+be on their route. The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw
+them no more. My interest was excited. Why had the men gone into
+this gully? There was smoother ground outside. They had a purpose;
+I must find it out.</p>
+<p>Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I
+was on neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least.
+I could not know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every
+two hours. There would probably be nobody passing between vedettes
+and pickets--unless, indeed, some officer should go the rounds of
+the sentinels; that was something I must risk.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of
+the gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view.
+I could now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I
+suspected that the picket-line stretched across it; but there was
+no indication of the purpose which had caused the men to go into
+the gully. My position was a good one, and I waited. I could see a
+part of the picket-line--that is, not the men, but the
+rifle-pits.</p>
+<p>Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an
+oblique direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He
+disappeared. He had gone down into this gully, which, I was now
+confident, separated by its width the pickets of different
+commands. What could this unarmed man be doing in the gully?
+Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping that an opportunity
+had been found.</p>
+<p>Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was
+coming from the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the
+same instant the unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he
+held his canteen in his hand. The situation was clear; there was
+water in the gully; my opportunity had come.</p>
+<p>I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before
+the vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth
+of the gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side
+of the gully; he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the
+man I had seen a moment before. I went into the gully. I must get
+to that spring or pool, or whatever it was, before another man
+should come.</p>
+<p>Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the
+spring--and it was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little
+hollow had been made by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the
+hands, on one side of the gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen
+earth would protect the hole from the midday sun, the only sun
+which could reach the bottom of this ravine, defended by its wall
+on either hand. The hole was so small that only one canteen could
+be filled at a time; but the water was good compared with that of
+the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty of getting pure
+water that justified the relaxation of discipline which permitted
+the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their vedette
+lines.</p>
+<p>Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I
+sat and waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and
+began scraping the mud from my shoes and clothing.</p>
+<p>I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down
+with one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.</p>
+<p>"Fill mine, too," said a voice.</p>
+<p>I did not look up.</p>
+<p>"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o'
+mosquitoes?"</p>
+<p>"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was
+on vydette."</p>
+<p>He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't
+git that mud off that-away; let it dry."</p>
+<p>I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of
+shelf in the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water
+for more than one man.</p>
+<p>"Gimme your canteen," said I.</p>
+<p>He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap
+Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged
+to the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied
+themselves, from battlefields and prisoners, and the greater
+capture of stores, with good Union canteens. Even while I was
+thinking this, he said, "What'll you take to boot 'twixt your
+canteen and mine?"</p>
+<p>"Don't want to swap," said I.</p>
+<p>I filled his canteen.</p>
+<p>"Now, gimme your hand," said I.</p>
+<p>He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it
+took two pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but
+knew that he was a small man.</p>
+<p>He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was
+new. We reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.</p>
+<p>Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill.
+There was a pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty
+feet wide. Had I known of the existence of that gully, I could have
+stolen through the picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had
+it guarded at night.</p>
+<p>"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own
+side?"</p>
+<p>"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.</p>
+<p>He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes
+and his clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He
+walked slowly up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be
+within the picket-line; it took all my will to preserve composure;
+I was glad the man was in front of me. We stepped slowly up the
+hill.</p>
+<p>I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down,
+probably, half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I
+was wishing my leader would speak again. The nervous tension was
+hard. What should I do when we reached the line? I had no plan,
+except to walk on. I wished my leader would continue to march, and
+go past the pits--then I could follow him; the trivial suggestion
+aroused self-contempt; I was thinking of straws to catch at. I must
+strengthen my will.</p>
+<p>He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."</p>
+<p>This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't
+see it, myself."</p>
+<p>"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.</p>
+<p>"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."</p>
+<p>"What for?"</p>
+<p>"So I could get some sleep."</p>
+<p>"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's
+shore."</p>
+<p>"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take
+care of myself."</p>
+<p>"Ben sick?"</p>
+<p>"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."</p>
+<p>"Bilious, I reckon," said he.</p>
+<p>"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."</p>
+<p>"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.</p>
+<p>"Wish I <i>could</i> see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the
+word, mentally, with a capital.</p>
+<p>"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"</p>
+<p>"You don't know my captain," said I.</p>
+<p>"Hard on you, is he?"</p>
+<p>"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out
+here."</p>
+<p>"Bet <i>I'd</i> go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.</p>
+<p>"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"Send a man after me."</p>
+<p>"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet <i>our</i> men won't
+stop you; you don't belong to <i>them</i>."</p>
+<p>This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any
+eagerness. We were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt
+that my friend was marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he
+was surely on the left of his company--he was such a small man.</p>
+<p>"Stop," said I.</p>
+<p>He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow.
+He had the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.</p>
+<p>"You won't give me away?" I said.</p>
+<p>"What do you take me for?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything
+to anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men,
+I'll go."</p>
+<p>"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I
+don't know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want
+to know it; come on."</p>
+<p>He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I
+saw men lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at
+some of the other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where
+my friend had halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to
+cause them to speak. He handed his canteen to one of the men; even
+this man did not speak; he drank.</p>
+<p>I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The
+sun itself could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken
+five minutes, for the pits were not more than a hundred yards from
+the edge of the swamp.</p>
+<p>Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe.
+How far in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could
+not yet tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when
+I reached them.</p>
+<p>As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the
+pits I went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by
+bushes, and I went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast
+direction for nearly an hour. I passed in full sight of the
+picket-line in many places, and fortifications far to my right
+could be seen upon the hills. My purpose was to enter the main
+Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible opposite New
+Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on the
+night before.</p>
+<p>The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I
+sat in a shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best.
+I believed I had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go
+forward. I could see parts of fortifications. No one would think of
+hindering my entrance. I would go into the lines; then I would turn
+to the right and follow out my instructions.</p>
+<p>Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was
+entirely bare of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were
+lines of earthworks. I did not pause; I went straight ahead.</p>
+<p>A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I
+thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would
+bring them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was
+some regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were
+going to relieve the last night's pickets.</p>
+<p>The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I
+heard a cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost
+directly in my rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far
+above my head.</p>
+<p>At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in
+any danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain
+their object on the other side of the Chickahominy.</p>
+<p>The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind
+the line of earthworks.</p>
+<p>I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although
+the shells went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into
+the place of danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no
+tree, no fence, nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and
+bare. I was on this bare hill.</p>
+<p>A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like
+myself, had no doubt come from the picket-line.</p>
+<p>"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for
+the breastworks.</p>
+<p>The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less
+height.</p>
+<p>One of the shells burst over my head.</p>
+<p>Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left
+hand--with great violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious
+that I saw him fall; at the instant there was a deafening noise,
+and I was conscious of nothing.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XX"></a>XX</h2>
+<h3>THE MASK OF IGNORANCE</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"I
+am mainly ignorant<br>
+What place this is; and all the skill I have<br>
+Remembers not these garments; nor I know not<br>
+Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>"Who is it?"</p>
+<p>"Don't know."</p>
+<p>My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me
+now. A gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.</p>
+<p>"Hurt bad?"</p>
+<p>"Head mashed."</p>
+<p>"Anybody else?"</p>
+<p>"One more, and <i>he's gone</i>!"</p>
+<p>I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but
+could not.</p>
+<p>I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my
+eyes threatened to break something in my head.</p>
+<p>I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly,
+and to become larger and smaller.</p>
+<p>Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.</p>
+<p>The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went
+by. The blue sky was over me. I did not stir.</p>
+<p>How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that
+I was conscious.</p>
+<p>I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait
+a second!"</p>
+<p>A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines
+... these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night
+sky had been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over
+my head, and the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear
+of insanity. I have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot
+recollect what hurt me....</p>
+<p>But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were
+returning. I could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to
+me, by some unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear
+them step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and
+I could hear them speak, and breathe heavily.</p>
+<p>Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.</p>
+<p>We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a
+field, or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or
+thought I heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep!
+Hep!"--and again, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"</p>
+<p>Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is
+vivid while it lasts.</p>
+<p>Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I
+dreamed that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the
+ground.</p>
+<p>I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were
+strange. They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my
+eyes. I tried to think.</p>
+<p>"There he goes again," said a voice.</p>
+<p>I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face
+bending over me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head
+was bare. He had spectacles. He was not dirty.</p>
+<p>"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.</p>
+<p>I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a
+tent. There were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There
+were forms on the beds.</p>
+<p>The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one
+of them raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I
+supposed so, though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.</p>
+<p>I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man
+with the spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your
+head. You are not hurt badly."</p>
+<p>My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that
+must be true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not
+unreasonable. The man went away.</p>
+<p>But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that
+people awoke before they were hurt.</p>
+<p>The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He
+raised my head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to
+open my mouth, but could not.</p>
+<p>He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head
+in his hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put
+water into it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I
+drank. Both went away.</p>
+<p>The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in
+his hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt
+me; I groaned.</p>
+<p>"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your
+hair a little, so that I can get at you."</p>
+<p>Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my
+head get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll
+promise to go to sleep."</p>
+<p>I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go
+to sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed
+inwardly at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.</p>
+<p>The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank.
+The water did not taste so good as the first draught did.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would
+soon be over.</p>
+<p>When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was
+near me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned,
+while asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another
+man on another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat
+rolled down my face.... Where was I? What was I?</p>
+<p>My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to
+remember how I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the
+place of ... had I dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk
+much water; my throat was parched.</p>
+<p>A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my
+dream ... then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I
+was awake, maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and
+this tent and this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I
+awake I shall laugh at this dream; I shall write it out, because it
+is so complex and strange.</p>
+<p>The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"</p>
+<p>I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The
+man brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers
+on my wrist.</p>
+<p>"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his
+words would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could
+hope for a dream to end. He went away.</p>
+<p>I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my
+head. I felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I
+tried to turn, but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.</p>
+<p>The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and
+raised my head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and
+then went away, leaving me propped up.</p>
+<p>Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but
+feebly against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was
+a man. There were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five;
+five sick men. I wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they
+were all sick in the head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more
+strongly that all this horrible thing is unreal.</p>
+<p>I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, <i>six</i>; how
+is that?</p>
+<p>Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.</p>
+<p>Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they?
+Who am I? I know nothing--nothing.</p>
+<p>The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said,
+"Are you easier?"</p>
+<p>I could not reply. He went away.</p>
+<p>I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort
+brought increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I
+tried to sleep. I tried to quit thinking.</p>
+<p>When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent
+was very bright.</p>
+<p>A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He
+brought a basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face
+and hands, and dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you
+eat some breakfast?" I could not reply.</p>
+<p>The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The
+doctor was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The
+man on the pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I
+could not tell what the doctor said. The man groaned.</p>
+<p>Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to
+feel hungry.</p>
+<p>William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating
+in it. He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank.
+William went away.</p>
+<p>The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from
+outside. What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough
+to the railroad to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not
+from cars. I could hear shouting, as if of wagoners.</p>
+<p>All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the
+sun was shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be
+coming.</p>
+<p>I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would
+not do for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for
+a sick man in a storm.</p>
+<p>But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the
+reality. I know nothing.</p>
+<p>The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile
+in return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.</p>
+<p>The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who
+had groaned. The man was not groaning now.</p>
+<p>The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The
+doctor drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went
+out of the tent. A cold sweat was on me.</p>
+<p>Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a
+corner. They took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come
+back.</p>
+<p>Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was
+great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I
+had never before known it so warm.</p>
+<p>Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be
+with them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many
+days; I thought that I had been unconscious.</p>
+<p>The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in
+his hand--a book and a pencil.</p>
+<p>Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his
+arms were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the
+other man also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps
+officers of the Citadel battalion<a name="FNanchor5"></a><a href=
+"#Footnote_5">[5]</a>. I wondered what I should be doing in their
+world. Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and
+for how long I did not know.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor5">[5]</a>
+"The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in
+Charleston. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!</p>
+<p>The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the
+book to the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in
+the book, and gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man
+with the book went out of the tent.</p>
+<p>The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his
+shoulder. The first finger and the middle finger were stretched
+out; the other fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his
+hand and at his face, and wondered.</p>
+<p>He said, "Look! How many?"</p>
+<p>I said, "Two."</p>
+<p>He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing
+famously."</p>
+<p>He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding
+stools. He began to dress my head.</p>
+<p>"Your name is Jones?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of
+good-will shown by his calling me by my first name.</p>
+<p>"What edge are you?"</p>
+<p>I was silent. I did not understand the question.</p>
+<p>"What edge are you?" he repeated.</p>
+<p>I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he
+had used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said,
+"What edge are you?"</p>
+<p>I thought he was meaning to ask my age.</p>
+<p>I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.</p>
+<p>"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I am in my twenty-second," I said.</p>
+<p>"The twenty-second what?" said he.</p>
+<p>"Year," said I, greatly astonished.</p>
+<p>He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.</p>
+<p>After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he
+inquired.</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"</p>
+<p>"That is my age," said I.</p>
+<p>"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not
+hear?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.</p>
+<p>Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a
+man in real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt
+relieved of many fears.</p>
+<p>"What are you smiling at?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I've been dreaming," I said.</p>
+<p>"And your dream was pleasant?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You smile then at unpleasant things?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"I don't understand you," said he.</p>
+<p>"Neither do I," said I.</p>
+<p>"What is your regiment?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Why do you ask such a question?"</p>
+<p>"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an
+answer," said he.</p>
+<p>"I have no regiment," I said.</p>
+<p>"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been
+unconscious?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I
+shall have to send you back to your regiment."</p>
+<p>"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.</p>
+<p>At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and
+gave me a bitter draught.</p>
+<p>I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was
+neither asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in
+my head was less violent.</p>
+<p>After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The
+doctor was standing by me.</p>
+<p>"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.</p>
+<p>The question came with something like a shock. I did not know
+how to reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I
+had not thought of home, than to find that I did not know a
+home,</p>
+<p>"Where is your home?" he repeated.</p>
+<p>"I do not remember," I said.</p>
+<p>"Where were you yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.</p>
+<p>He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are
+in South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Soldiers, you mean?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he replied.</p>
+<p>"I am not one of them," I said.</p>
+<p>"Try to remember," he said, and went away.</p>
+<p>The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the
+more did I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a
+wagoners' camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be
+soldiers here was too hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes
+must be a surgeon.</p>
+<p>The doctor came again.</p>
+<p>"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Better, I trust," said I.</p>
+<p>"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.</p>
+<p>"Fit for duty?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What duty?"</p>
+<p>"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"</p>
+<p>"I am not a soldier," I said.</p>
+<p>"Then why do you wear a uniform?"</p>
+<p>"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are
+taking me for another man."</p>
+<p>"You have on the uniform now," said he.</p>
+<p>He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.</p>
+<p>"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."</p>
+<p>"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.</p>
+<p>"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"</p>
+<p>"Yes. What district?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."</p>
+<p>"Who is your captain?"</p>
+<p>"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said,
+"I don't understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains.
+Do you belong to the Citadel battalion?"</p>
+<p>"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Did you go to the Citadel?"</p>
+<p>"No; I think not," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"</p>
+<p>"They are soldiers," I replied.</p>
+<p>"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"</p>
+<p>"No," said I.</p>
+<p>"You know something of Charleston?"</p>
+<p>"I've been there, I think."</p>
+<p>"When?"</p>
+<p>"Well; not very long ago."</p>
+<p>"How long? Try to think."</p>
+<p>"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am
+awake or dreaming."</p>
+<p>"Ask me questions," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Where am I?"</p>
+<p>"In the field hospital."</p>
+<p>"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know
+there was a hospital here."</p>
+<p>"Where do you think you are?"</p>
+<p>"In Aiken," I said.</p>
+<p>"Do you live in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more
+questions."</p>
+<p>"Give me some water," said I.</p>
+<p>He brought the water, and I drank.</p>
+<p>"Am I not in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember
+whether your home is in Aiken."</p>
+<p>"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.</p>
+<p>"Where is your home?"</p>
+<p>"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.</p>
+<p>"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get
+you out of this."</p>
+<p>"Out of this what?"</p>
+<p>"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things
+together yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get
+irritable."</p>
+<p>"I hope so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Ask more questions," said he.</p>
+<p>"How did I get here?"</p>
+<p>"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my
+infirmary men."</p>
+<p>"What men?"</p>
+<p>"Infirmary men."</p>
+<p>"What are they?"</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."</p>
+<p>"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"</p>
+<p>"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days;
+but from what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."</p>
+<p>"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know."</p>
+<p>"Were you not in Charleston?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in
+Aiken."</p>
+<p>His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said
+was puzzling to myself.</p>
+<p>"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's
+regiment. I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need
+something first."</p>
+<p>He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went
+out of the tent.</p>
+<p>To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything
+and nothing.</p>
+<p>Again that thunder.</p>
+<p>The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I
+believed he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain
+was confused I could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that
+was my comfort. He had given me medicine every time I felt worse;
+he was certainly a good doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the
+medicine was helping me.</p>
+<p>When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.</p>
+<p>"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.</p>
+<p>"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.</p>
+<p>"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several
+persons--you said something about Butler, and something also about
+Brooks and Sumner."</p>
+<p>"Was Brooks from Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"What Brooks?"</p>
+<p>"I don't remember," I said.</p>
+<p>"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he
+said.</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't
+understand your talk about regiments. Why should there be
+regiments?"</p>
+<p>"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the
+pallets; "they have been wounded in battle."</p>
+<p>I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his
+words were wild.</p>
+<p>"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly,
+"tell me what day of the month this is."</p>
+<p>"The nineteenth," said I.</p>
+<p>"How do you know?"</p>
+<p>"Because I read yesterday the Augusta <i>Constitutionalist</i>
+of the eighteenth," said I.</p>
+<p>"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is
+getting well. Eighteenth of what?"</p>
+<p>"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"It is indeed," said he.</p>
+<p>"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard
+thunder."</p>
+<p>"I did not hear any thunder," said he.</p>
+<p>"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.</p>
+<p>"What else did you dream?"</p>
+<p>"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."</p>
+<p>"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"How old did you say you are?"</p>
+<p>"Twenty-one."</p>
+<p>"Do you know in what year you were born?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."</p>
+<p>"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"</p>
+<p>"Fifty-nine," said I.</p>
+<p>"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.</p>
+<p>I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel
+strangely calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my
+side.</p>
+<p>"You can trust me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.</p>
+<p>I looked at him, and said nothing.</p>
+<p>"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are
+thinking that one of us two is crazy."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I.</p>
+<p>"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are
+suffering a little in the head, but there is no longer any danger
+to your brain at all."</p>
+<p>"I think I am dreaming," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no
+harm."</p>
+<p>He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong
+in that.</p>
+<p>"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what
+have you dreamed while I wan gone?"</p>
+<p>"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."</p>
+<p>"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"</p>
+<p>"I suppose so."</p>
+<p>"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.</p>
+<p>I shrank, and he laughed.</p>
+<p>"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened
+since you were in Aiken?"</p>
+<p>I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.</p>
+<p>"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said,
+"but it may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I
+thought."</p>
+<p>"How did I get hurt?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You were knocked down," said he.</p>
+<p>"Who did it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference
+which one did it; we all know that you were in the right."</p>
+<p>"There was a quarrel?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity
+at once by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did
+not, you would make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you
+would become more and more bewildered. I can put you right. But can
+you make up your mind to accept the situation as it is, and bear up
+in the hope that you will come right in the end?"</p>
+<p>I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my
+mind. It was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank.
+It was not fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition
+was more favourable.</p>
+<p>"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the
+whole truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist.
+After all, there is nothing in it but what you might have
+reasonably expected when you were in Aiken in eighteen
+fifty-nine."</p>
+<p>"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."</p>
+<p>"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"</p>
+<p>"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or
+at least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience
+from October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."</p>
+<p>"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all
+gone?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."</p>
+<p>I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it
+was hard for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six
+months--but, no; he was not saying I had been unconscious for six
+months--nobody could live through such a state--he was telling me
+that I could not remember what I had known six months ago.</p>
+<p>"What month is this?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"June," said he; "June 4th."</p>
+<p>"From October to June is a long time," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen
+fifty-nine," said he.</p>
+<p>"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"On my honour," said he.</p>
+<p>"And I have lost eight months of my life?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but
+temporary. You will get right after a while."</p>
+<p>"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"</p>
+<p>"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am
+trying now to find your regiment."</p>
+<p>"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to
+accept that?"</p>
+<p>"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive
+you? Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."</p>
+<p>"Because--" said I.</p>
+<p>"Because what?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me
+good."</p>
+<p>"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These
+hills around you are covered by an army."</p>
+<p>"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.</p>
+<p>"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."</p>
+<p>"What Richmond?"</p>
+<p>"In Virginia."</p>
+<p>"And what brought <i>me</i> here? Why should I be here?"</p>
+<p>"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no
+doubt, and while your mind acted perfectly."</p>
+<p>"But why should I have come?"</p>
+<p>"Because your regiment was ordered to come."</p>
+<p>"And why should there be an army?"</p>
+<p>"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend
+your country, and your regiment was ordered here."</p>
+<p>"Country invaded? Volunteered?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Then we are at war?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"With England?"</p>
+<p>"No; not with England, with the United States."</p>
+<p>I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.</p>
+<p>"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.</p>
+<p>"Why?"</p>
+<p>"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I
+laughed again.</p>
+<p>"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a
+few minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you
+remember how many states compose the United States?"</p>
+<p>"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.</p>
+<p>"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine,"
+said he; "but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the
+most of the Southern states--have seceded and have set up a
+government of their own. We call ourselves the Confederate States
+of America. Our capital is Richmond. The Northern states are at war
+with us, trying to force us back into the Union, as they call it.
+War has been going on for more than a year."</p>
+<p>"What!"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight
+months."</p>
+<p>"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"</p>
+<p>"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."</p>
+<p>He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The
+written page was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written
+some eight or ten names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B,
+such a regiment; Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on.
+Upon one line there was nothing written except <i>B. Jones</i>.</p>
+<p>Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date.
+The paper was the Richmond <i>Examiner</i>; the date, Wednesday,
+June 4, 1862.</p>
+<p>"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>I laughed.</p>
+<p>He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year.
+The great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and
+the Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he
+added, "I will show you."</p>
+<p>He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both
+sides.</p>
+<p>"Look!"</p>
+<p>I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow
+latitude. I could see tents, their numbers increasing as
+perspective broadened the view. I could see many men passing to and
+fro.</p>
+<p>"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for
+miles."</p>
+<p>I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face;
+I wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too
+false; at once my hands fell back.</p>
+<p>I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none
+before.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXI"></a>XXI</h2>
+<h3>ONE MORE CONFEDERATE</h3>
+<center>"Thy mind and body are alike unfit<br>
+To trust each other, for some hours, at least;<br>
+When thou art better, I will be thy guide--<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp; But whither?"--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the
+surgeon's repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the
+pain had almost gone. My stomach was craving food.</p>
+<p>It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle
+of the tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my
+dream had changed; the tent seemed larger.</p>
+<p>The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had
+heard them talking before I opened my eyes.</p>
+<p>"I should like to have him, Frank."</p>
+<p>Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every
+adjutant in the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But
+he knows that he is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are
+sufficient proof of that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows
+the movements of no other brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your
+company, Captain."</p>
+<p>"Can I do that without some authority?"</p>
+<p>"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be
+called for, and you can return him to his company."</p>
+<p>"What do you think of it, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say
+exceptional," said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide
+for miraculous contingencies."</p>
+<p>"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible
+to make it regular until his company is found. What else can you
+suggest?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know. Can't we wait?"</p>
+<p>"Wait for what?"</p>
+<p>"Wait till we find his people."</p>
+<p>"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him
+then?--turn him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I
+tell you we can't find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found
+it, and that he is fit for duty, or will be in a few days; he is
+not a fit subject for the general hospital, and I wouldn't risk
+sending him there; Powell would wonder at me."</p>
+<p>"Can't you keep him a while longer?"</p>
+<p>"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the
+matter with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to
+be attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It
+will all necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of
+<i>some</i> company, and I want to see him placed right."</p>
+<p>"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."</p>
+<p>"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before
+he has a place to go to. I think I have the right, in this
+miraculous contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you,
+at least temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner
+or later we'll hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man.
+His memory will return to him, so that he'll know where he
+belongs."</p>
+<p>"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his
+company is found, of course I shall be compelled to let him
+go."</p>
+<p>"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear
+for him unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am
+I not right, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"</p>
+<p>"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be
+nothing here for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and
+I'm going to treat him better than that. By the way, I believe he
+is awake."</p>
+<p>My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How
+do you feel now, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"Am I here yet?" I muttered.</p>
+<p>"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"</p>
+<p>"Where are the others?"</p>
+<p>"What others?"</p>
+<p>"The five men."</p>
+<p>"What five men?"</p>
+<p>"The five men on the pallets."</p>
+<p>"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes
+again."</p>
+<p>"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well.
+Don't bother your head about what happened last century or last
+year."</p>
+<p>He went to the door and called William.</p>
+<p>The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's
+friends sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take
+the soup somewhat greedily.</p>
+<p>"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know
+where you are."</p>
+<p>"I know what I've been told," said I.</p>
+<p>"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe
+it or you doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," I said boldly.</p>
+<p>"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a
+gentleman's voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I
+thought, vaguely, I had heard before.</p>
+<p>"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory
+of your own; what is it, please?"</p>
+<p>He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that
+I had got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any
+interest.</p>
+<p>"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"</p>
+<p>"Be good enough to tell me another."</p>
+<p>He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.</p>
+<p>"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse
+by inventing a war with all its <i>et ceteras</i>. His supposition
+does me credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury.
+Although I have given him my word of honour that I am concealing
+nothing, he still hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in
+order to keep from him a truth that might be dangerous to his
+health. I shall be compelled to call him out when he gets well.
+Will you act for me, Aleck?"</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your
+friend will make the <i>amende</i> when he knows the injustice of
+his suspicions."</p>
+<p>"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the
+war?" asked the doctor.</p>
+<p>"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the
+Captain. The other man shook his head.</p>
+<p>"Then tell Jones the conditions here."</p>
+<p>"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say,
+although it is accepting impossibilities."</p>
+<p>"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you
+object to my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and
+so long?"</p>
+<p>"Not that I know of," said I.</p>
+<p>"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere
+creatures of your fancy?"</p>
+<p>The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see
+his features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head
+was below him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young
+man. His face was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.</p>
+<p>"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
+wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
+experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
+have had."</p>
+<p>Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight
+tinge of irony in this excessively polite speech.</p>
+<p>"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any
+other dream."</p>
+<p>"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious
+of is not a dream?"</p>
+<p>"That contradicts itself," said I.</p>
+<p>"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men
+that you are not dreaming?"</p>
+<p>"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.</p>
+<p>"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me
+your notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent
+throughout, or should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own
+unrealness?"</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my
+own existence."</p>
+<p>"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore
+you exist. Are you not sure that you think?"</p>
+<p>"I think, or I dream that I think."</p>
+<p>"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But
+suppose you dream on; what will be the result?"</p>
+<p>"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.</p>
+<p>"May I ask where you will awake?"</p>
+<p>"In Aiken."</p>
+<p>"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a
+year ago."</p>
+<p>Naturally the remark was of interest to me.</p>
+<p>"When was it?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was
+recruiting for the reorganized First."</p>
+<p>"August of what year?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."</p>
+<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself.
+I am going through deep waters, I know nothing."</p>
+<p>"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you
+through." Then he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He
+has men in his company from several of the districts; possibly some
+of them would know you, and you might know them."</p>
+<p>I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's
+suggestion was not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What,
+to me, was this captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had
+no interest in this war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes
+did not seem to set strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those
+men could get along without my help. Why could I not find a
+different occupation? Anything would be better than getting killed
+in a cause I did not understand. Then, too, I was threatened with
+the wretched condition of an object of common curiosity. If I was
+going to be gazed at by this officer and his men,--if I was to be
+regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie with theirs.</p>
+<p>"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go
+out of the tent for a moment?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."</p>
+<p>"Why should I go out?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Only to look about you," he replied.</p>
+<p>The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself
+so strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.</p>
+<p>I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few
+fires on the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the
+whole world was shining with fires; long lines of them to the right
+and the left.</p>
+<p>We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you.
+Command me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me
+too bold in advising you to make no hasty decision which you might
+regret afterward; good-by."</p>
+<p>"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."</p>
+<p>The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for
+a while, over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making
+a report. When this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This
+officer also is a Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general
+of Gregg's brigade, and is a brother of Captain William
+Haskell."</p>
+<p>The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but
+I was in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to
+help you if we can."</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it
+the more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."</p>
+<p>"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially
+to Dr. Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in
+Company H himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our
+attention to your case in order that we might try to help you, and
+we should be glad to help."</p>
+<p>"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any
+day or any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital,
+because you are almost well. Something must be done with you. What
+would you have us do?"</p>
+<p>"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to
+have any plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit
+myself to something I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I
+enlist as a soldier. I feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as
+a soldier in any way. Possibly I should think differently if I knew
+anything about the war and its causes."</p>
+<p>"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I
+think, Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the
+war were explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to
+agree to your wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him
+light; I know he must be full of curiosity."</p>
+<p>"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is
+going on. Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do,
+though, in the end."</p>
+<p>"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful;
+at any rate, it can do no harm."</p>
+<p>"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that
+you are already a soldier," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.</p>
+<p>"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we
+propose is to give you a home until you find where you belong; and
+the place we propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know
+of. Company H is a fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I
+may say that they are picked men; the most of them are gentlemen.
+Let me mention some good old Carolina names--you will remember
+them, I think. Did you never hear the name of Barnwell?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I
+believe this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."</p>
+<p>"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do
+you know of the Rhetts?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."</p>
+<p>"Grimk&eacute; Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there
+are the Seabrooks and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the
+Bellots<a name="FNanchor6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6">[6]</a>, and
+Stewart, and Bee, and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent
+good old families. You would speedily feel at home."</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor6">[6]</a>
+The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in
+Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be
+pronounced <i>Bellotte</i>. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know.
+I am a soldier in a cause that I do not understand."</p>
+<p>"And you have done many other things that you could not now
+understand if you were told of them," said the doctor.</p>
+<p>"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been
+wounded in the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"</p>
+<p>"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm
+done. Tell him how he was hurt, Aleck."</p>
+<p>"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the
+adjutant.</p>
+<p>"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I,
+with nervous curiosity.</p>
+<p>"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the
+doctor.</p>
+<p>"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the
+enemy's cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit
+that you are a soldier!"</p>
+<p>To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the
+two men.</p>
+<p>"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks;
+you are under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may
+come, and does come; you are wounded; you are brought to your
+hospital for treatment. And yet you doubt that you are a soldier!
+You must be merely dreaming that you doubt!"</p>
+<p>While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was
+getting angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones,
+good-by," he said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't
+let it fall into obstinacy."</p>
+<p>The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"Yes, I am. I was surprised."</p>
+<p>"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts;
+they lie there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all.
+I suppose they think that they are dreaming."</p>
+<p>At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it
+was that my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then,
+too, it was pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.</p>
+<p>"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three
+days will set you up."</p>
+<p>"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies,
+and war, and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"</p>
+<p>"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are
+now convinced that there is a war?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it
+ought to be enough for you to know that your country is in danger.
+Are you a patriot?"</p>
+<p>"I trust so."</p>
+<p>"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have
+talked long enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a
+night-cap."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my
+progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my
+curiosity.</p>
+<p>"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"I trust I am," said I.</p>
+<p>"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are
+insulted. Our men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and
+hopes to conquer. Can you hesitate?"</p>
+<p>"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But
+how can you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits
+of the cause for which I am told to fight?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government
+is concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a
+Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep
+from serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I
+will not suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to
+answer any question you may ask about the causes of the war. You
+ought to have your mind satisfied, if it be possible."</p>
+<p>"What are they fighting about?"</p>
+<p>"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into
+existence?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, I think so," said I.</p>
+<p>"Tell me."</p>
+<p>"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their
+independence in war," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well; what then?"</p>
+<p>"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates
+framed a constitution."</p>
+<p>"Well; what then?"</p>
+<p>"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."</p>
+<p>"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of
+the constitutional convention?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then do you think the States created the general government?
+Think a little before you answer."</p>
+<p>"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."</p>
+<p>"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the
+Federal government, or did the people of the whole United States,
+acting as a body-politic, create it?"</p>
+<p>"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.</p>
+<p>"In what respect?"</p>
+<p>"It makes the United States exist before the United States came
+into existence," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then what would your answer be?"</p>
+<p>"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent
+delegates. The delegates, representing the respective States,
+framed the constitution. The people, if I mistake not, ratified the
+constitution, each State voting separately. Therefore I think that
+the United States government is a creature of the States and not of
+the people as a body-politic; for there could have been no such
+body-politic."</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you
+ought never to have entered military service."</p>
+<p>"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for
+a time to enter into the agreement."</p>
+<p>"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States
+have compelled them to come in?" he asked.</p>
+<p>"I cannot say as to that," said I.</p>
+<p>"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce
+them?"</p>
+<p>"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot
+very well see what ought to have been done."</p>
+<p>"The two States would have had some rights?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"What rights would the United States have had over the two
+States?"</p>
+<p>"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but
+the people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not
+think that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new
+republic by refusing to enter it. But there may have been something
+peculiar in Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should
+say that the question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode
+Island's objections should have been considered and removed. A
+forced agreement would be no agreement."</p>
+<p>"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all
+their rights?"</p>
+<p>"I think not."</p>
+<p>"What rights did they retain?"</p>
+<p>"They retained everything they did not surrender."</p>
+<p>"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces?
+Did they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"</p>
+<p>"I think not."</p>
+<p>"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for
+the general good of all?"</p>
+<p>"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word
+'partnership' is the correct term."</p>
+<p>"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A
+confederacy?"</p>
+<p>"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The
+title of the republic means a union."</p>
+<p>"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word
+'union' seems to me to imply greater permanence."</p>
+<p>"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"</p>
+<p>"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all
+time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were
+differences, even among the framers of the constitution."</p>
+<p>"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should
+believe that their interests were being destroyed and that
+injustice was being done."</p>
+<p>"The several branches of government should prevent that," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government
+were united in perpetrating this injustice."</p>
+<p>"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.</p>
+<p>"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in
+Congress had been elected by their opponents; that the President
+and the judges were all against them."</p>
+<p>"The will of the majority should rule," said I.</p>
+<p>"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself
+must be given up or defended?"</p>
+<p>"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.</p>
+<p>"Ought they to endure tamely?"</p>
+<p>"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it
+seems that the constitution should have provided some remedy."</p>
+<p>"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours,
+should conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except
+in withdrawing from the partnership, or union."</p>
+<p>"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps
+a dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge
+of such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank
+concerning politics."</p>
+<p>"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that
+step, in the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace;
+would her citizens be bound by her action?"</p>
+<p>"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being
+the case, every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long
+as he remains a citizen."</p>
+<p>"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable
+withdrawal is met by United States armies trying to force her back
+into the Union. Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a
+citizen of South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State,
+he must obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of
+it."</p>
+<p>"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are
+invading his State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"</p>
+<p>"I think no man would do that."</p>
+<p>"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of
+his State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his
+help, and influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that
+South Carolina should allow any of her citizens to leave her in
+this crisis?"</p>
+<p>"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms
+would thus be allowed to go."</p>
+<p>"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"</p>
+<p>"In a certain sense--yes."</p>
+<p>"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"</p>
+<p>"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to
+reply, I should say no."</p>
+<p>"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military
+service, is it not your duty to serve?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me
+serve?"</p>
+<p>"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to
+serve his country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that
+a man should obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."</p>
+<p>"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the
+country?"</p>
+<p>"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no
+exception to rules?"</p>
+<p>"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not
+exist in time of war. The Confederate States have called into
+military service all males between eighteen and forty-five. You
+could not leave the country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an
+impersonal sense--even if you should wish to leave it. Every man is
+held subject to military service; as you have already said, the
+State would commit suicide if she renounced the population from
+which she gets her soldiers. But, in any case, what would you do if
+you were not forced into service?"</p>
+<p>"I am helpless," I said gloomily.</p>
+<p>"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not
+helpless. What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can
+attach, you to any company that you may choose, with the condition
+that as soon as your friends are found you are to be handed over to
+them--I mean, of course, handed over to your original company. It
+seems to me that such a course is not merely the best thing to do,
+but the only thing to do."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under
+very heavy obligations. You have done much yourself, and your
+friends show me kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask
+you to act for me. I know the delicacy of your offer. Another man
+might have refused to discuss or explain; he had the power to
+simply order me back into the ranks."</p>
+<p>"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have
+been exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's
+duty to his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army
+regulations applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept
+here without authority, except the general authority which empowers
+the surgeon to help the wounded. But I have no control over you
+whatever. If you choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this
+hospital. I cannot make a report of your case on any form furnished
+me. It was this difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the
+brigade adjutant to visit you; while the matter is irregular, it
+is, however, known at brigade headquarters, so that it is in as
+good a shape as we know how to put it. I cannot order you back into
+the ranks; you would not know what to do with yourself; what I
+suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter of being
+supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that you
+are still in the service and are obeying authority."</p>
+<p>"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the
+possibility of being charged with desertion."</p>
+<p>"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must
+get authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect
+you fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and
+the adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without
+leave. I must quit you for a while."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my
+part, to find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the
+proposition to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard
+to my original company, and had at last confessed to myself that it
+was due to exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my
+company? should I recognize them? No; they would know me, but I
+should not know them. This thought had been strong in holding me
+back from yielding to the doctor's views; I had an almost morbid
+dread of being considered a curiosity. So, I did not want to go
+back to my company; and as for going into Captain Haskell's
+company, I considered that project but a temporary expedient--my
+people would soon be found and I should be forced back where I
+belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to keep
+out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go
+away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only
+keep me from being advertised and gazed upon.</p>
+<p>Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought
+before me the probability of my being already reported absent
+without leave, and the consequent possibility of being charged with
+desertion, I decided at once that I should go with Captain Haskell.
+Whatever I might once have been, and whatever I might yet become, I
+was not and never should be a deserter.</p>
+<p>When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong
+enough for duty.</p>
+<p>"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong
+enough to march in case the army should move. I do not intend,
+however, to let you go at once, unless there should be a movement;
+in that case I could not well keep you any longer."</p>
+<p>I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish
+to delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to
+enroll me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick
+list for a few days, in order that I might accustom myself
+gradually to new conditions.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXII"></a>XXII</h2>
+<h3>COMPANY H</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"In strange eyes<br>
+Have made me not a stranger; to the mind<br>
+Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;<br>
+Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find<br>
+A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation
+recounted above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short
+walk.</p>
+<p>From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see
+northward and toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents
+and cannon, and rows of stacked muskets and all the appliances of
+war. The sight was new and strange. I had never before seen at one
+time more than a battalion of soldiers; now here was an army into
+which I had been suddenly thrust as a part of it, without
+experience of any sort and without knowledge of anybody in it
+except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had never
+heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army had
+been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true
+that I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my
+misfortune had deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had
+decided my duty as to that cause; yet it now appealed to me so
+little, that I was conscious of struggling to rise above
+indifference. I reproached myself for lack of patriotism. I had
+read the morning's <i>Dispatch</i> and had been shocked at the
+relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the
+part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against
+the wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me
+that my passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this
+peculiarity seemed so unimportant in comparison with the greater
+one which marked me, that it gave me no concern.</p>
+<p>In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum
+and the fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming
+and going. A line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched
+by, going somewhere. They had no uniform; I supposed they were
+recruits. A group of mounted men attracted me; I had little doubt
+that here was some general with his staff. Flags were
+everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked by stars.</p>
+<p>A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I
+started to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"</p>
+<p>He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.</p>
+<p>When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade
+is?"</p>
+<p>"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the
+hospital tents, I suppose."</p>
+<p>"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about
+here," said he.</p>
+<p>"I will go with you to the tent," said I.</p>
+<p>"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some
+days on duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in
+charge of the hospital?"</p>
+<p>"Dr. Frost," said I.</p>
+<p>"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our
+orderly-sergeant."</p>
+<p>By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men,
+and I looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I
+wanted to ask him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest
+he should afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be
+curious. However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was,
+would hardly become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked
+saying that I understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant
+in some company or other.</p>
+<p>"Yes; Company H," said he.</p>
+<p>"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."</p>
+<p>"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said
+he.</p>
+<p>"You like your company?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own
+company; I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better
+now."</p>
+<p>"You couldn't be under better care," said he.</p>
+<p>When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.</p>
+<p>"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I
+reckon, and I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment
+do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know;
+to my intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he
+cried, "There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook
+hands. I besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he
+understood, and nodded.</p>
+<p>The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the
+regiment?"</p>
+<p>"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and
+Bellot soon went off.</p>
+<p>"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you
+and he are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you
+here to-day, he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but
+we'll hope for the best."</p>
+<p>"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees
+me again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very
+ragged, and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking
+of my strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become
+indebted to you for something besides your professional skill,
+Doctor."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want,
+if I can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he
+will not come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your
+first service as light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if
+you have forgotten your drill!"</p>
+<p>"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did
+know anything about it."</p>
+<p>"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you
+may have lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In
+three days under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every
+manoeuvre. Just get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and
+you'll do eight of 'em without reflection."</p>
+<p>"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p>
+<p>I did not budge, but stood stiff.</p>
+<p>"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do <i>so</i>," said he.</p>
+<p>"<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p>
+<p>I imitated the surgeon.</p>
+<p>"FRONT!--that's right--<i>Left</i>--FACE! That's
+good--FRONT!--all right; now
+again--<i>Right</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>Left</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>About</i>--put
+your right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind;
+it will all come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H
+many a day."</p>
+<p>I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection
+for me, though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of
+proprietorship acquired through discovery, so to speak.</p>
+<p>After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to
+Company H. W'ell drive over in an ambulance."</p>
+<p>From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the
+crest of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds
+were aglow with light. "McClellan's army," said he.</p>
+<p>"Whose army?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."</p>
+<p>"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.</p>
+<p>"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.</p>
+<p>"And their camp-fires make all that light?"</p>
+<p>"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as
+the men had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be
+seen a blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and,
+underneath, a bed of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours
+abounded. The Captain himself had no tent; we found him sitting
+with his back to a tree near which was his little fly stretched
+over his sleeping-place. Several officers were around him. He shook
+the doctor's hand, but said nothing to me. The officers left
+us.</p>
+<p>"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that
+you may tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to
+his first service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."</p>
+<p>"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.</p>
+<p>"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.</p>
+<p>"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got
+the cart before the horse."</p>
+<p>"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones
+Berwick."</p>
+<p>"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it
+is written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick
+instead of Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."</p>
+<p>"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of
+Private Berwick," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name
+reversed, that is a small matter which will straighten itself out
+when you recover your memory. What I was going to say is, that you
+may be received into my company as a recruit, as it were, but to be
+returned to your original company whenever we learn what company
+that is. We will continue, through brigade headquarters, to try to
+find out what regiment you are from--and under both of your names.
+While you are with me I shall cheerfully do for you all that I can
+to favour your condition. You will be expected, however, to do a
+man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."</p>
+<p>The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used
+toward me in the tent; his voice was stern and his manner
+frigid.</p>
+<p>"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued,
+"and will keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your
+case; for I can well understand, although you have said nothing
+about it, sir, that you do not wish confidences."</p>
+<p>His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."</p>
+<p>"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his
+official voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an
+ordinary recruit; we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I
+shall at once make a requisition for your arms and accoutrements,
+your knapsack, uniform, and everything else necessary for you. You
+may remain in the hospital until your equipment is ready for you.
+Report to me day after to-morrow at noon, and I will receive you
+into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it is time for
+prayers."</p>
+<p>The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book
+in his hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the
+doctor told me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch.
+Some of the men heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed
+heads.</p>
+<p>The Captain began to read:--</p>
+<p>"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all
+just works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the
+world cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy
+commandments, and also that by Thee, we, being defended from the
+fear of our enemies, may pass our time in rest and quietness,
+through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour.</p>
+<p>"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have
+been preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all
+perils and dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our
+Saviour, Jesus Christ.</p>
+<p>"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the
+Universe, who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon
+earth, most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and
+bless Thy servant the President of the Confederate States, and all
+others in authority; and so replenish them with the grace of Thy
+Holy Spirit that they may always incline to Thy will, and walk in
+Thy way. Endue them plenteously with heavenly gifts, grant them in
+health, and prosperity long to live; and finally, after this life,
+to attain everlasting joy and felicity, through Jesus Christ our
+Lord.</p>
+<p>"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly
+beseech Thee for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst
+be pleased to make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to
+all nations. More especially we pray for Thy holy church universal,
+that it may be so guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all
+who profess and call themselves Christians may be led into the way
+of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of
+peace, and in righteousness of life. Finally, we commend to Thy
+fatherly goodness all who are in any ways afflicted or distressed
+in mind, body, or estate, that it may please Thee to comfort and
+relieve them, according to their several necessities, giving them
+patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their
+afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's sake. Amen."</p>
+<p>While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness
+outside of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.</p>
+<p>Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he
+was good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead
+of another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I
+should be without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have
+sent me to the general hospital, whence I should have been remanded
+to duty; and failing to know my regiment, I should have been
+apprehended as a deserter. At the best, even if other people had
+recognized the nature of my trouble, I should have been subjected
+then and always to the vulgar curiosity which I so greatly dreaded.
+Here in Company H nobody would know me except as an ordinary
+recruit.</p>
+<p>The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and
+said, "Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr.
+Frost sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own
+company at any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if
+you do not find it. You are not under my orders until you come to
+me."</p>
+<p>As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me
+seriously, "You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones.
+How did you get my name reversed?"</p>
+<p>"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B.
+Jones,'" he said.</p>
+<p>"Will you let me see the diary?"</p>
+<p>"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to
+have done so before."</p>
+<p>The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small
+blank book for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862.
+Only a very few dates in this book are filled with writing. On the
+fly-leaf is "B. Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name
+having been all torn away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends
+with May 27th. The writing has been done with a pencil. I copy
+below all that the book contains:--</p>
+<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather
+clear."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.</p>
+<p>"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at
+night."</p>
+<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain
+at night."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.</p>
+<p>"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that
+had been fighting."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Each page in the book is divided into three sections.</p>
+<p>After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said
+to the surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe
+that I ever wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain
+that I could not have written B. Jones as my name."</p>
+<p>The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take
+this paper and write at my dictation."</p>
+<p>He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a
+battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been
+fighting."</p>
+<p>"Now let us compare them," said he.</p>
+<p>The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the
+paper.</p>
+<p>"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones
+Berwick?"</p>
+<p>"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do
+know."</p>
+<p>"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book,
+what would you have said?"</p>
+<p>"That the book was never mine, of course."</p>
+<p>"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor.
+"Many cases have been known of patients whose handwriting had
+changed completely. The truth is, that I did not expect to see you
+write as you did just now."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.</p>
+<p>"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name
+is Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at
+all--any part of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do
+this and do that; there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the
+mind. I'd rather risk that signature which you made before you were
+hurt."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be
+trusted. It is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower
+part of the leaf has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why,
+of course, to destroy the name of the regiment to which the owner
+belonged! B. Jones is common enough; Jones Berwick is not so
+common. I found it, or else it got into my pocket by mistake. No
+wonder that a man named Jones is not called for."</p>
+<p>"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is
+identical? Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we
+cannot account for the rest unless you wrote it. It is very
+romantic, and all that, to say that somebody imitated your
+handwriting in the body of the book, but it is very far-fetched.
+Find some other theory."</p>
+<p>"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.</p>
+<p>"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third
+you began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where
+you had been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had
+kept one, at home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days
+ago."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.</p>
+<p>"By the by, let me see that book a moment."</p>
+<p>I handed it to him.</p>
+<p>"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I
+wanted to see who printed it."</p>
+<p>"What would that have shown?"</p>
+<p>"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or
+perhaps Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."</p>
+<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."</p>
+<p>"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make
+inquiries for the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is
+missing. Now do you go to bed and go to sleep."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.</p>
+<p>The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face
+I saw in the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at
+least ten years older. Needless to describe it, if I could.</p>
+<p>After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful
+duty,--I made a different appearance, and felt better, not only on
+account of the physical change, but also, I suppose, because my
+mind was now settled upon myself as a volunteer soldier.</p>
+<p>Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see
+me; Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a
+man who would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to
+give them no hint of the truth. He replied that it would be
+difficult to keep them in the dark, for they wouldn't see why a
+man, already wearing uniform, should offer himself as a member of
+Company H.</p>
+<p>"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said
+he.</p>
+<p>To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If
+I had any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other
+clothing."</p>
+<p>"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots
+of it."</p>
+<p>"Where?"</p>
+<p>"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me;
+besides, the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every
+volunteer. Your bounty will purchase clothing, if you are
+determined to squander your estate. Captain Haskell would be able
+to secure you what you want; your bounty is good for it."</p>
+<p>"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.</p>
+<p>"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was
+thinking, for the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the
+tables on me. Yes; you have already received the bounty; maybe you
+haven't yet spent it, though. I'll look up the contents of your
+pockets; I hope nothing's been lost."</p>
+<p>He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as
+well as a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in
+Confederate notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South
+Carolina, and more than four dollars in silver.</p>
+<p>"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do
+you want to do with all that?"</p>
+<p>"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.</p>
+<p>"Why old?"</p>
+<p>"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."</p>
+<p>"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we
+march, it will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer
+stuff; I know what to do. How you held on to that silver so long is
+a mystery."</p>
+<p>The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the
+Bellots came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The
+elder Bellot had already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did
+not seem to recognize me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man,
+fully six feet, with a slight stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes
+or a better face; he, too, wore a full beard. His name was Louis,
+yet his brother called him Joe. I took a liking to both Dave and
+Joe.</p>
+<p>The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the
+regiment was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a
+State regiment before the Confederate States had existed--that is
+to say, it had been organized by South Carolina alone, before any
+other State had seceded; it had seen service on the islands near
+Charleston.</p>
+<p>A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave
+Bellot, especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of
+which I was utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.</p>
+<p>"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."</p>
+<p>"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but
+I am not familiar with the city."</p>
+<p>"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."</p>
+<p>Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie,
+and I nodded assent.</p>
+<p>"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns
+of Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the
+Cadets had fired on the <i>Star of the West</i>; we thought Sumter
+would sink us, but she didn't say a word."</p>
+<p>I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that
+these men had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me.
+Momentarily I expected either of them to blurt out, "Where are you
+from?" and I had no answer ready. Afterward I learned that I was
+already known as an Aiken man, in default of better,--the doctor
+having considerately relieved me from anticipated danger.</p>
+<p>"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the
+Confederate service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time
+expired in June. It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and
+discharged, and at once reorganized under the same
+field-officers."</p>
+<p>I did not very well know what a field-officer is.</p>
+<p>"Who is the colonel?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called
+him once in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters,
+and it was the day for general inspection of the camp. We had
+scoured our tin plates and had made up our bunks and washed up
+generally, and every man was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I
+had my back to the door, and I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder
+when Old Headquarters will be here.' You never were so scared in
+your life as I was when I heard a loud voice at the door say,
+'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the colonel walked in."</p>
+<p>I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is
+Suffolk?"</p>
+<p>"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was
+in the Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post,
+though. He commands our brigade now."</p>
+<p>"Where did you go from Suffolk?"</p>
+<p>"To Goldsborough."</p>
+<p>"Where is that?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island
+it was thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and
+Wilmington railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were
+brigaded with some tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson
+and the lot of us were sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put
+under Gregg again until we reached Richmond."</p>
+<p>"How many regiments are in the brigade?"</p>
+<p>"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's
+Rifles."</p>
+<p>"All from South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very
+near getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."</p>
+<p>"Where is Hanover?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure
+to get into that fight, but we were too late for it."</p>
+<p>The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They
+especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared
+that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some
+others which they could name.</p>
+<p>Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I
+flattered myself with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit
+influenced by some acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.</p>
+<p>Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his
+brother, and then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know
+anybody in the company?"</p>
+<p>"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply
+relying on Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely
+on his judgment more than on my own."</p>
+<p>"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you
+can do better."</p>
+<p>I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to
+accept his offer.</p>
+<p>"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was
+walking a short way with the brothers as they returned to their
+camp. "No," said I.</p>
+<p>"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of
+warfare."</p>
+<p>"What are they doing?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into
+regiments of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans,
+has several regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of
+one of our brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in
+that State are enticing the negroes away from their owners and
+putting arms into their hands."</p>
+<p>"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from
+saying more. The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at
+the time that New Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his
+saying that Butler had regiments of negroes seemed queer.</p>
+<p>"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's
+insurrection," said Bellot.</p>
+<p>A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot
+continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading
+of Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!</p>
+<p>"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of
+secession, and they have split Virginia into two States. In my
+opinion, they are fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure
+selfishness: they know that they live on the trade of the South,
+and that they cannot make as much money if they let us go to
+ourselves."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of
+course there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good
+mistakenly, but the mass of the people are blindly following the
+counsels of those who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed
+men, the manufacturers, and the great merchants of the North
+thought for one moment that they would lose some of their dollars
+by the war, the war would end. What care they for us? They care
+only for themselves. They plunge the whole country into mourning
+simply in order to keep control of the trade of the South."</p>
+<p>Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West
+Virginia by the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent,
+mentally vowing that I should at once read the history of events
+since 1859. So I sought Dr. Frost, and begged him to help me get
+books or papers which would give me the information I needed; for
+otherwise, I told him, I should be unable to talk with any
+consistency or method.</p>
+<p>"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in
+print that would give you just what you want. We might get files of
+newspapers--but that would be too voluminous reading and too
+redundant. You ought to have something concise--some outline; and
+where to get it I can't tell you." Then, as the thought struck him,
+he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll make it! You write while I
+dictate."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2>
+<h3>A LESSON IN HISTORY</h3>
+<center>"So that, from point to point, now have you heard<br>
+The fundamental reasons of this war;<br>
+Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,<br>
+And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking
+that I would require many notes.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October
+fifty-nine?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"What date?"</p>
+<p>"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's
+seizure of Harper's Ferry."</p>
+<p>"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown
+episode?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing."</p>
+<p>I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.</p>
+<p>In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic
+Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building
+of which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and
+interrupted him to tell him so."</p>
+<p>"Maybe your home is in Charleston."</p>
+<p>"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I
+don't remember my home."</p>
+<p>He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important
+actions and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought
+in them in '61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you
+something about your own command."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in
+progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.</p>
+<p>"Well."</p>
+<p>"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded
+at the battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You
+were in that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson
+we call him, to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is
+president of the Tredegar Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you
+were facing McDowell. Now, look here at the map. McClellan
+stretched his right wing as far as Mechanicsville--here, almost
+north of Richmond; and you were between McClellan and McDowell. So
+Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember the hot march?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all; I don't think I was there."</p>
+<p>"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover
+your memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in
+an unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies
+itself against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of
+weakness that things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a
+dream proves to be the beginning. However, some men have such great
+strength of will that they can do almost anything. If ever you get
+the smallest clew, you ought then and there to determine that you
+will never let it go. Your friends may find you any day, but it is
+strange they have not yet done it They surely must be classing you
+among the killed."</p>
+<a name="326.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/326.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<b>A Lesson In History<br>
+Map of Chesapeake Bay and Environs</b></p>
+<p>"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the
+past? Would my memory return if I should find them?"</p>
+<p>"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first
+find one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and
+then they can show you how everything else is to be associated with
+that. Without their help you would have a hard time in collecting
+things--putting them together; they would be separate and distinct
+in your mind; if you remember but one isolated circumstance, it
+would be next to impossible to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and
+finish; we are nearly at the end, or at the beginning, for you.
+Where was I?</p>
+<p>"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"</p>
+<p>"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the
+twenty-fourth."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir."</p>
+<p>"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's
+brigade. While you were retreating, and when you were very near
+Hanover, McClellan threw a column on Branch, and used him very
+severely. You were not in the fight exactly, but were in hearing of
+it, and saw some of Branch's men after the fight. That is how we
+know what brigade you belong to, although it will not claim you.
+You know that you are from South Carolina, and your buttons prove
+it; and your diary shows that you were near Branch's brigade while
+it was in the fight; and the only South Carolina brigade in the
+whole of Lee's army that had any connection with Branch, is
+Gregg's. Do you see?"</p>
+<p>"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"</p>
+<p>"May 27th; your diary tells you that."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The
+division you are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light
+division. Branch's brigade is in it."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the
+army down to the company."</p>
+<p>"Go ahead."</p>
+<p>"Lee's army--"</p>
+<p>"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."</p>
+<p>"What is General Lee's full name?"</p>
+<p>"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse
+Harry Lee of Revolution times."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's
+brigade--what is General Gregg's name?"</p>
+<p>"Maxcy."</p>
+<p>"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"</p>
+<p>"How did you know that?"</p>
+<p>"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"</p>
+<p>"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."</p>
+<p>"Company H, Captain Haskell--"</p>
+<p>"William Thompson Haskell."</p>
+<p>"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"</p>
+<p>"No."</p>
+<p>"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."</p>
+<p>"Now read what you have written," he said.</p>
+<p>I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made.
+My interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily
+have called over in chronological order the principal events he had
+just narrated.</p>
+<p>"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the
+details from what you can remember of what I said?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."</p>
+<p>He asked some questions, and I replied to them.</p>
+<p>My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a
+phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he
+said.</p>
+<p>His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.</p>
+<p>"What has become of the <i>Merrimac?</i>" I asked him.</p>
+<p>"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had
+to follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some
+halfway down below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by
+Lincoln against all the ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak
+on the water."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2>
+<h3>BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE</h3>
+<center>"And so your follies fight against yourself.<br>
+Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--<br>
+And fight and die, is death destroying death;<br>
+Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr.
+Frost had offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone,
+and, as my strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all
+my possessions in my pockets.</p>
+<p>The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll
+of Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in
+its alphabetical position.</p>
+<p>A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having
+been made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots.
+Besides the brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I
+formed gradually some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant
+Josey, Corporal Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box,
+in this alphabetical succession of names my own name being no real
+exception, although Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name
+written in the diary.</p>
+<p>And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's
+drill in the manual and in everything. The company drilled four
+hours a day, and the regiment had one hour's battalion drill,
+besides dress-parade; there was roll-call in the company morning
+and night.</p>
+<p>Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John
+Wilson, who put me singly through the exercises without arms for
+about four hours on my first day's duty, which was the third day of
+my enlistment, or perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant
+seemed greatly pleased with my progress, and told me that he should
+at once promote me to be the right guide of his awkward squad.</p>
+<p>On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three
+other recruits who had been members of the company for a week or
+more. That night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have
+received me into his good graces, told me that Wilson had said that
+that new man Jones beat everything that he had seen before; that
+learning to drill was to Jones "as easy as fallin' off a log." I
+remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.</p>
+<p>The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the
+afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour
+I was exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved
+very unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost
+swore at me. He placed my gun at the <i>carry</i>, and called
+repeated attention to the exact description of the position,
+contained in the language of Hardee: "The piece in the right hand,
+the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in the hollow of the
+shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging nearly at its
+full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger embracing the
+guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping the
+swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little
+finger." I simply could not execute the <i>shoulder</i>, or
+<i>carry</i>, with any precision, although the positions of
+<i>support, right-shoulder-shift, present,</i> and all the rest,
+gave me no trouble after they were reached; reaching them, from the
+<i>shoulder</i> was the great trouble.</p>
+<p>Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the
+Captain.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant
+Wilson gives a bad report of you."</p>
+<p>"I do the best I can, Captain."</p>
+<p>"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some
+peculiar point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives
+you great praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says
+you will not learn the manual."</p>
+<p>"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something
+wrong about it."</p>
+<p>"You find the manual difficult?"</p>
+<p>"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me
+nervous."</p>
+<p>"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."</p>
+<p>"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I
+have a clew to the situation."</p>
+<p>Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made
+me take position. He also took position, with a rifle at his
+side.</p>
+<p>"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be
+the <i>shoulder</i> natural to you."</p>
+<p>His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm
+of his left hand under the butt.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he, "this is the <i>shoulder</i> of the heavy
+infantry manual. I think you were drilled once in a company which
+had this <i>shoulder</i>. It may not have been in your recent
+regiment that you were so drilled, for this <i>shoulder</i>
+obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before the war.
+Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions
+now--<i>Support</i>--ARMS!"</p>
+<p>The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the
+stock; his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting
+on the forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.</p>
+<p>I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.</p>
+<p>"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other
+positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the
+<i>shoulder</i>, or <i>carry</i>, as we sometimes call it, that has
+been changed. You will like the new drill."</p>
+<p>He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had
+difficulty, yet I had some success.</p>
+<p>"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.</p>
+<p>I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I
+had been confused by the light infantry <i>carry</i>, never having
+seen drill except from the heavy infantry <i>shoulder</i>. Wilson
+kept me at work for almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with
+my progress. Under his training I was soon able to drill with the
+company.</p>
+<p>Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see
+Richmond. He had got permission to go into town on the next day.
+The Captain readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four
+hours, and Bellot and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We
+saw the State House, and the Confederate Congress in session, and
+wandered down to the river and took a long look at the Libby
+Prison.</p>
+<p>The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's
+left, but now the regiment took position in the front, the lines
+having been extended still farther to the left. A battery at our
+right--some distance away--would throw a few shells over at the
+Yankees, and their guns would reply; beyond this almost daily
+artillery practice, nothing unusual occurred.</p>
+<p>One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to
+get my arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front,
+Corporal Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for
+his sword. He led us through our pickets and straight on toward the
+river. The slope of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were
+clumps of pine bushes which hid us from any casual view from either
+flank; and as for the river swamp in our front, unless a man had
+been on its hither edge, we were perfectly screened. I observed
+that, as we approached the swamp, the Captain advanced more
+stealthily, keeping in the thickest and tallest of the bushes.
+Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending over and slipping
+along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader. The river
+bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a dense
+forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
+which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
+Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the
+purpose of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it
+was not merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.</p>
+<p>We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the
+Captain signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and
+stood behind a tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body
+this way and that; then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth
+here was less thick, the trees larger. I could see nothing, in any
+direction, except trees and muddy water. The Captain went on again
+for a few paces, and stopped with a jerk. After a little he
+beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded slowly on. Before we
+reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get behind trees.</p>
+<p>From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in
+another. There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the
+Captain was still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see
+that his whole attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at
+my right, was silent and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather
+than saw, that there was something in front of us, and I kept my
+eyes intent upon a narrow aisle just beyond me. All at once a man
+in dark-blue dress passed across the opening; I knew instantly that
+he was a Yankee, although I had never seen one in my life, and
+instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but he was gone. Now,
+looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other blue men behind
+trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were about sixty
+yards from us; I supposed they were part of their picket-line. I
+had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and consulted
+the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.</p>
+<p>Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side
+of the Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool
+stretching in their front, and were not very watchful. We remained
+stiff in our places for four or five minutes; then the Captain
+moved slowly backward and gave us a sign to follow.</p>
+<p>This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it
+made me feel that the Captain was favourable to me.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three
+days' rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little.
+Everybody said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had
+occasion to use the word, had thought of it as r&atilde;tions. I
+think I called it r&atilde;tions once or twice before I got
+straight. I remembered Dr. Frost's advice to hold fast any
+slightest clew, and felt that possibly this word might, in the
+future, prove a beginning.</p>
+<p>The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle.
+For a day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the
+part of Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody
+seemed to know where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave
+occasion for the talk. From what I could hear, it seemed to be
+thought generally that Jackson was marching on Washington, but some
+of the most serious of the men believed exactly the contrary; they
+believed that Jackson was very near to Lee's army.</p>
+<p>The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready
+for the march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe
+Bellot was lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that
+he, too, was awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and
+sometimes confused, thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not
+that I should soon see actual war, and I was far from certain that
+I could stand it. I had never fired a shot at a man; no man had
+ever fired at me. I fully appreciated the fact of the difference
+between other men and me; perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I
+had heard and had read that most men in battle are able from
+motives of pride to do their duty; but I was certainly not like
+most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had homes to fight
+for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at all; but I
+was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction
+called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown
+somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as
+theirs; if I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight
+for the homes of my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home,
+vague, it is true, but as real as theirs, and Southern homes were
+in danger from the invaders. I <i>must</i> fight for Southern
+homes--for <i>my</i> home; but could I stand up with my comrades in
+the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I not one of a
+few? perhaps unique even?</p>
+<p>Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but
+retain my presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature
+by the resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what
+is courage if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If
+my mind fail, I shall have no courage: this is to think in a
+circle. I felt that I should prefer death to cowardice--the thought
+gave me momentary comfort.</p>
+<p>But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial
+comes? A coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an
+outcast from men.</p>
+<p>And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I
+doubted it and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt
+comforted me. To be killed was no worse than to kill.</p>
+<p>Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that
+sustained <i>him</i> at this moment? If not now, at least shortly,
+he would give orders which must result in the death of thousands;
+it was enough to craze a general. How could he, reputed so good,
+give such orders? Could any success atone for so much disaster?
+What could be in the mind of General Lee to make him consent to
+such sacrifice? It must be that he feels forced; he cannot do it
+willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up the contest--to
+yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two nations into
+despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many stricken
+homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that sustains
+General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and
+simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then
+President Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the
+burden? No. What then? The country.</p>
+<p>And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People?
+What is land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know.
+But, supposing that I have people and land--what is the country for
+which we fight? Will the enemy take our people, and take our land,
+if we do not beat them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to
+subjection. I shall become a dependant upon them. I shall be
+constrained in my liberties; part of my labour will go to them
+against my will. My property, if I have any, will be taken from me
+in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not wholly, at least in a
+measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not be free.</p>
+<p>But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free?
+Yes, I shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to
+got aid from the country, I shall be part of the country and can
+enjoy my will, because I will to be part of my country and to help
+build up her greatness and sustain and improve her
+institutions.</p>
+<p>Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an
+institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is
+it, then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a
+growth, a development--a development of what? Is it material? No,
+it is moral; it is <i>soul</i>--then I thought I could see what is
+meant by the country and by her institutions. The country is the
+spirit of the nation--and it is deathless. It is not doomed to
+subjection; take the land--enslave the people--and yet will that
+spirit live and act and have a body. Let our enemies prevail over
+our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is good in our
+institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true idea is
+imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.</p>
+<p>Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the
+false. The false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in
+order to spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be
+better or stronger by that?</p>
+<p>Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by
+good that evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us,
+must we not fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war.
+Must we submit? We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is
+repugnant to the spirit of the nation; death is better than
+submission. But killing, is it not crime? Is crime better than
+submission? No; submission is better than crime But is not
+submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement of the law
+of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime? To
+avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing?
+It seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is
+because the spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the
+world. The world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and
+demands life and freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not
+so unselfish; the spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism;
+the world-spirit raises high the principle of philanthropy
+universal. The country has not developed the world-idea, and will
+not, except feebly; but she will at last, and will be loyal to the
+spirit of the world. Then, unless I am sustained by a greater
+power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the South. I must kill
+and must be killed.</p>
+<p>But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into
+a less readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to
+me I know not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance
+incomprehensible and unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will
+not my conscience force me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse
+than death.</p>
+<p>I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose,
+and walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the
+morrow might be still more soundly sleeping.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet.
+I approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but
+cannot."</p>
+<p>"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by
+ourselves."</p>
+<p>His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct
+toward the men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning
+duties, yet he was very sympathetic in personal matters, and in
+private talk was more courteous and kind toward a private than
+toward an equal. I understood well enough that it was through
+sympathy that he had invited me to unburden.</p>
+<p>"Captain," I said, "I fear."</p>
+<p>"May I ask what it is that you fear?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that I am a coward."</p>
+<p>"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"</p>
+<p>"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."</p>
+<p>"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close
+place when you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were,
+if the truth has been told."</p>
+<p>"That was not I; I am now another man."</p>
+<p>"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."</p>
+<p>"Proving a coward," I replied.</p>
+<p>"You fear that you will fear?" said he.</p>
+<p>"That is exactly it."</p>
+<p>"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."</p>
+<p>"I fear that danger will make me fear."</p>
+<p>"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least
+anybody who has something more than the mere fearlessness of the
+brute that cannot realize danger."</p>
+<p>"Do you fear, too, Captain?"</p>
+<p>The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew
+that his silence was rebuke.</p>
+<p>"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak
+of myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not
+to be thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I
+like the thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are
+very distasteful to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing
+itself to pain; I fear pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear.
+I do not think the fear of death is unmanly, for it is human. Those
+who do not fear death do not love life. Please tell me if you love
+life."</p>
+<p>"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."</p>
+<p>"Do you fear death?"</p>
+<p>"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were
+indifferent to death I should have no fear of being afraid."</p>
+<p>"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in
+the swamp," said he.</p>
+<p>"I don't think I had great fear."</p>
+<p>"Yet you were in danger there."</p>
+<p>"Very little, I think, Captain."</p>
+<p>"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have
+ended your life."</p>
+<p>"I did not realize the situation, then."</p>
+<p>"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then,"
+said he.</p>
+<p>"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."</p>
+<p>"But you did not fear."</p>
+<p>"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a
+knowledge of danger?"</p>
+<p>"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that
+a man may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I
+am afraid that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in
+duty."</p>
+<p>"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail
+in duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case.
+An army consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be
+broken. It is those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause
+disorganization. The touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I
+think, sir; but for the man who will do his duty such dependence
+should not be taught. Good men, instructed to depend on comrades
+will be demoralized when comrades forsake them. Our method of
+battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should be more open. Many
+reasons might be urged for that change, but the one we are now
+considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend on weak
+men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not really
+a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so. Every
+man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless
+of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to
+fight, sir; there are other duties more suited to them."</p>
+<p>"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.</p>
+<p>"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to
+test you now?"</p>
+<p>"To test me?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage."
+His voice had become stern.</p>
+<p>I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I
+felt that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position
+into which my fears were working to thrust me.</p>
+<p>"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of
+this suspense."</p>
+<p>"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense
+concerning danger?"</p>
+<p>I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and
+replied, "Yes, Captain, danger is better than fear."</p>
+<p>"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I
+had the right to incur danger uselessly."</p>
+<p>"And how did you settle that?"</p>
+<p>"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."</p>
+<p>He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may
+depress you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a
+soldier as Company H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only
+yesterday, remarked that you were the best-drilled man in the
+company, and showed astonishment that a raw recruit, in less than
+two weeks, should gain such a standing. I thought it advisable to
+say to him that your education had included some military training,
+and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped his official manner.
+"It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly a veteran than
+any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have been
+wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed
+signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that
+you have already seen battle more than once."</p>
+<p>"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at
+all. I am a different man."</p>
+<p>"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I
+appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I
+think every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a
+friend, that you feel fear more sensitively because you live in the
+subjective; you feel thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are
+exclusive."</p>
+<p>"I am forced to be so, Captain."</p>
+<p>"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on
+myself."</p>
+<p>"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it
+positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though
+peculiar; I fancy that you heighten them by your
+self-concentration. The world and objects in it divert other men,
+while your attention is upon your own feelings. Pardon me for
+saying that you think of little except yourself. This new old
+experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution to your
+soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men think
+of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be
+all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will
+be good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."</p>
+<p>"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other
+men and other things," I said.</p>
+<p>"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give
+you that test?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; if you please."</p>
+<p>"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do
+not need it," said he.</p>
+<p>"How so, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed
+to test you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to
+it. Have you lost interest in it?"</p>
+<p>"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good
+time."</p>
+<p>"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from
+courage, but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at
+once reject my proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it;
+but, having begun, I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will
+assign you some special duty that will keep you out of battle--such
+as guarding the baggage, or other duty in the rear."</p>
+<p>I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.</p>
+<p>"Why do you hesitate?"</p>
+<p>"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.</p>
+<p>"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but
+did you not urge me on?"</p>
+<p>"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."</p>
+<p>"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept
+my offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not
+see that what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You
+are not intimidated at the prospect of battle."</p>
+<p>"I fear that I shall be," said I.</p>
+<p>"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your
+indignation seems no less natural to yourself than it does to
+me."</p>
+<p>"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my
+fears?"</p>
+<p>"Oblige me by explaining."</p>
+<p>"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the
+purpose of concealing my fear?"</p>
+<p>"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the
+possibility--the strong possibility--of death," said he,
+gravely.</p>
+<p>"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I
+shall do when it is near is not sure."</p>
+<p>"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice,
+assuming again the relation of an officer.</p>
+<p>"I do not mean it that way, Captain."</p>
+<p>"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least
+to cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch
+you."</p>
+<p>"I wish I could banish fear," said I.</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to
+make yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."</p>
+<p>"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will
+not weaken in the time of trial?"</p>
+<p>"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again
+will and will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you
+are ordered to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you
+not decided that you will march with us?"</p>
+<p>"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I
+expect to march."</p>
+<p>"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not
+know that you will march to the battlefield?"</p>
+<p>"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I
+should have no fear of myself."</p>
+<p>"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to
+run away when we get into battle?"</p>
+<p>"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be
+able to have any intention at all."</p>
+<p>"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"</p>
+<p>"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and
+fear the test."</p>
+<p>"You <i>can</i> determine that you will act the man," said he.
+Then, kindly: "I have no fears that you will do otherwise,
+but"--and here his voice again became stern--"the determination
+will rid you of your present fears. Exert your will, and this
+nightmare will go."</p>
+<p>"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"</p>
+<p>"<i>You</i> can. You can drive away your present fear of
+yourself, at the very least."</p>
+<p>"How can I do it, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"I shall give you one more test."</p>
+<p>"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that
+would confirm my fear."</p>
+<p>"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your
+present state of mind--"</p>
+<p>"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"</p>
+<p>"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But
+allow me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you
+are, or you will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect
+before I begin."</p>
+<p>There was a pause.</p>
+<p>"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say
+three, you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"</p>
+<p>If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all
+my fears were gone.</p>
+<p>"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even
+hesitatingly.</p>
+<p>"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my
+duty."</p>
+<p>"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse
+me for employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I
+may make a suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein,
+that you will encourage henceforth, the companionship of the
+men."</p>
+<p>"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."</p>
+<p>"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I
+am sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented
+itself to your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."</p>
+<p>"Good night, Captain," said I.</p>
+<p>But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his
+character as my commander.</p>
+<p>"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for
+all your physical strength to-morrow--and after."</p>
+<p>I was almost happy.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXV"></a>XXV</h2>
+<h3>IN THE GREAT BATTLE</h3>
+<center>"If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,<br>
+Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of
+itself; the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else
+we were creatures dominated by our surroundings.</p>
+<p>I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an
+unknown sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I
+touched a larger world, it was only through the medium of the
+company in its relations to that world. I had formed some
+attachments,--ties which have lasted through life thus far, and
+will always last,--but these attachments were immediate only, and,
+so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not directly could I
+see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside the narrow
+bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for that
+world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I
+called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to
+every other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal
+world rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although
+the ideal after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me
+must be lacking in the varying quality of light, and the delicate
+degrees of sweetness and truth which home and friends and all the
+material good of earth were said to assume for charming their
+possessors. The day brought me into contact with men; the night
+left me alone with myself. In my presence men spoke of homes far
+away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and children. I could see
+how deep was the interest which moved them to speak, and, in a
+measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was mystery rather
+than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could fill these
+pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps, for my
+memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should
+say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard
+with the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier.
+Absorbed in reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world
+of which I knew so little, it is not to be doubted that I
+constructed ideals far beyond the humdrum reality of home life,
+impracticable ideals that tended only to separate me more from
+other men. Their world was not my world; this I knew full well, and
+I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude treatment
+marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a friend. My
+weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left me
+more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have
+been hopeless.</p>
+<p>Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree,
+everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and
+although I was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my
+mind and hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over
+myself, and I hoped that I should always determine to live the life
+of a healthy human being, that I should be able to accept the
+relationships which, through Company H, bound me to all men and all
+things, and that my interest henceforth would be
+diversified--touching the world and what is in it rather than
+myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain change was
+in the banishment of my former indifference.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we
+yet held our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was
+heard in every regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored
+in Richmond.</p>
+<p>"<i>Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"</i>
+shouted Orderly-sergeant Mackay.</p>
+<p>By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid
+stride. Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.</p>
+<p>At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see
+before us and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in
+motion.</p>
+<p>Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding
+back along the line of the Light Division.</p>
+<p>Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the
+roar of cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and
+meadows; the passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go
+through gaps in rail fences.</p>
+<p>And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising
+from our left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait.
+The noise of battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company
+on our right is passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes
+the topmost rail at the left and hurls it clear over their heads.
+Then I see men pale, and I know that my own face is white.</p>
+<p>Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which
+rises to our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No
+breaking of ranks for rest or for water; the long night through we
+lie on our arms.</p>
+<p>Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry.
+At sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and
+down country roads; we go southeast.</p>
+<p>The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company
+C, the right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.</p>
+<p>Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An
+orderly comes to Captain Haskell.</p>
+<p>"<i>Company H!</i> ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>Every man is in his place--alert.</p>
+<p>"<i>Forward</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>"<i>By the right flank</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>"HALT!--FRONT!"</p>
+<p>"<i>Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take
+intervals--double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the
+left of Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or
+more, through woods and fields, the brigade following in line of
+battle.</p>
+<p>About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open
+land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had
+halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From
+this position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a
+group of horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road,
+or line, that would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at
+once in place. The distance was too great to tell the uniforms of
+the party of horsemen; but, of course, they could be only
+Yankees.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The
+horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen
+or twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the
+most eligible one of the group, and fire.</p>
+<p>Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his
+shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to
+fire; they may be our men."</p>
+<p>The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put
+his handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A
+horseman advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company
+H, and said, "They are General Jackson and his staff."</p>
+<p>Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see
+tents--a camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a
+few men running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been
+abandoned hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly;
+they were curious to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the
+cracking of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets, and the
+voice of Captain Haskell commanding, "<i>Lie down!</i>"</p>
+<p>Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent.
+The Yankee skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind
+trees on the opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I
+could see them looking out from behind the trees and firing. I took
+good aim at one and pulled the trigger; his bullet came back at me;
+I loaded and fired; I saw him no more, but I could see the smoke
+shoot out from the side of the tree and hear his bullet sing. I
+thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw him again, and fired,
+and missed. Then I carefully considered the distance, and concluded
+that it was greater than I had first thought. I raised the sliding
+sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the man, whom I
+could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the tree,
+and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind the
+tree.</p>
+<p>We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally;
+other men slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade
+was behind us, waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly
+I heard Captain Haskell's voice ordering us forward at
+double-quick. We ran down the hill into the valley below; there we
+found a shallow creek with steep banks covered with briers. We beat
+down the briers with our guns, and scrambled through to the other
+side of the creek in time to see the Yankees run scattering through
+the woods and away. We reached their position and rested while the
+brigade found a crossing and formed again in our rear. I searched
+for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but found none; yet I felt
+sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked another out from
+the tree above him.</p>
+<p>We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more.
+At length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed
+the withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them
+again until we should strike their main lines.</p>
+<p>Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt
+Jackson's--could be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left,
+marching forward and yet at a distance from our own line. We
+reached an elevated clearing, and halted. The brigade came up, and
+we returned to our position in the line of battle--on the left of
+the First. It was about three o'clock; to the right, far away, we
+could hear the pounding of artillery, while to the southeast,
+somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other side of the
+Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell. Shells
+from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped
+headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began
+firing. The line of infantry hugged the ground.</p>
+<p>Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a
+hollow; the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was
+on the hill beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were
+there and at work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were
+coming into line far to our right.</p>
+<p>General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the
+wooded slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the
+wooded hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill,
+still in the woods.</p>
+<p>The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted
+and re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was
+distinct; shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the
+trunks of the trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick
+with men firing into us in the woods. Those in our front were
+Zouaves, with big, baggy, red breeches. We began to fire kneeling.
+Leaves fell from branches above us, and branches fell, cut down by
+artillery. Butler, of our company, lying at my right hand, gave a
+howl of pain; his head was bathed in blood. Lieutenant Rhett was
+dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in the Yankee camp. He
+had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long aim, and fired;
+lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the effect, and
+yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot. Lieutenant
+Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker. Our
+colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two
+colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of
+the Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.</p>
+<p>A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--</p>
+<p>"<i>Bri-ga-a-a-de</i>--ATTENTION!"</p>
+<p>"<i>Fi-i-i-x</i>--BAYONETS!"</p>
+<p>"<i>For-w-a-r-d</i>--" and the next I knew men were dropping
+down all around me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute
+did we go forward. From front and left came a tempest of lead;
+again the colours--both--fell, and all the colour-guard. The
+colonel raised the colours. We staggered and fell back; the retreat
+through the woods became disorder.</p>
+<p>On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only
+six, but one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced,
+but shell and shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again
+in full action. We hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some
+regiment--the Thirtieth North Carolina--was advancing on our right.
+Captain Haskell and his six men joined this regiment, placing
+themselves on its left. The Thirtieth went forward through the
+woods--reached the open--and charged.</p>
+<p>The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man
+seeing whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his
+voice at its worst.</p>
+<p>Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found
+a sunken road, and the temptation was too great--down into the
+friendly road we fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the
+dust.</p>
+<p>The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the
+men calmly looked at their officers.</p>
+<p>A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging,
+gesticulating. He got near to Haskell--</p>
+<p>"Who <i>are</i> you?" shouted our Captain.</p>
+<p>"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."</p>
+<p>"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.</p>
+<p>Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the
+Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the
+battle-flag high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up
+the hill.</p>
+<p>Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet,
+and followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world
+hideous with yells.</p>
+<p>And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great
+horse was lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was
+gained.</p>
+<p>The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North
+Carolina regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six
+were yet unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on
+its left, and charged with it for another position. Believe it or
+not, the same thing recurred; the regiment charged well; from the
+smoke in front death came out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be
+crossed, and was not crossed; down the men all went to save their
+lives.</p>
+<p>And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the
+road.</p>
+<p>Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the
+regiment; he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he
+looked not back, but forward.</p>
+<p>The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one
+of the six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that
+the regiment was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his
+Captain and told him that the regiment did not follow.</p>
+<p>The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I
+tell you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."</p>
+<p>Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag
+would not be taken back to the regiment lying down.</p>
+<p>On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The
+bullets and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came
+on--and the others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and
+tried to load, but could not. I felt a great pain strike under my
+belt and was afraid to look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at
+length I exerted my will, and controlled my fear, and saw my
+trousers torn. My first wound had deadened my leg, but I felt no
+great pain--the leg was numb. The new blow was torture. I managed
+to take down my clothing, and saw a great blue-black spot on my
+groin. I was confused, and wondered where the bullet went, and
+perhaps became unconscious.</p>
+<p>Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet
+lay on the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me.
+Had a tide of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly
+called for help, and I crawled to the voice, but could give no help
+except to cut a shoe from a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles
+could be seen,--the enemy's rifles,--they came nearer and nearer,
+and I felt doomed to capture.</p>
+<p>Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom
+a host of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the
+last charge of Gaines's Mill.</p>
+<p>"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two
+replied:--</p>
+<p>"Hood's brigade."</p>
+<p>"The Hampton Legion."</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and
+moved and disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men
+with torches and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into
+the darkness by the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and
+for others who could not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina!
+First South Carolina!" and I gathered up my strength and cried,
+"Here!" Louis Bellot and two others came to me. They carried me
+tenderly away, but not far; still in the field of blood they laid
+me down on the hillside--and a night of horror passed slowly
+away.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to
+the field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the
+battlefield. Our way was through scattered corpses. We passed by
+many Zouaves, lying stiff and stark; one I shall always call to
+mind: he was lying flat on his back, the soles of his feet firm on
+the ground, his knees drawn up to right angles above, and with his
+elbows planted on the grass, his fingers clinched the air. His open
+mouth grinned ghastly on us as we went by.</p>
+<p>At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous
+that I was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that
+was all. I had already found out that the bullet had passed
+entirely through the fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears;
+but the limb now gave me great pain, and I should have been glad to
+have it dressed. I was laid upon the ground under a tree and
+remained there until night, when I was put with others into an
+ambulance and taken to some station on some railroad--I have never
+known what station or what road. The journey was painful. I was in
+the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough roads,
+halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead.
+The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and
+begging for this or that. I did not know their voices; they were
+not of our company. But some time in the night I learned somehow--I
+suppose by his companion calling his name--that one of the men
+below me was named Virgil Harley. Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley?
+Why, I knew that name once! Surely I knew that name in South
+Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made aware that Virgil
+Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the railroad, I was
+taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil Harley. "He
+is dead," was the answer.</p>
+<p>Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest
+opportunity, now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able
+to tell me of myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had
+but heard his voice in groans that ended in the death-rattle.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2>
+<h3>A BROKEN MUSKET</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"What seest thou else<br>
+In the dark backward and abysm of time?<br>
+If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,<br>
+How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early
+morning. Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister
+unto the needs of the suffering; delicacies were served
+bountifully, and hearts as well as stomachs were cheered; there
+were evidences of sympathy and honour on every hand.</p>
+<p>Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old
+tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My
+clothing was cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of
+dirt and even worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the
+nurse brought me the contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the
+rest, a marble and a flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in
+the watch-pocket of my trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my
+"taw" in that pocket; the bullet had struck the marble, which had
+saved me from a serious if not fatal wound.</p>
+<p>The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred
+wounded men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few
+belonging to my regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance
+was quickly made, however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I
+think, was ever called by his name. He was Georgia, or
+Alabama,--his State, whatever that was. My neighbours called me, of
+course, South Carolina.</p>
+<p>Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot.
+I remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in
+ward vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I
+noticed that he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which
+were amazingly big blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why
+such buttons had been used. He replied that, a month before he had
+been on furlough at his home in Alabama, and that his mother had
+made him two new shirts, and had made use of the extraordinary
+objects which I now saw because they were all she had. He had told
+her jestingly that she was putting that big blue button on the
+middle of his breast to be a target for some Yankee; and, sure
+enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital was a rifle
+shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama laughed,
+too, but not long. He died.</p>
+<p>For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life
+there was totally void of incident. After the first week, in which
+we learned of the further successes of the Confederate arms and of
+our final check at Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt
+concerning Lee's army, now doing nothing more than watching
+McClellan, who had intrenched on the river below Richmond, under
+the protection of the Federal fleet. We learned with some degree of
+interest that another Federal army was organizing under General
+Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern hopes were so high in
+consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign, and the manifest
+safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no concern; of course
+I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I found
+myself.</p>
+<p>At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a
+little, and in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on
+crutches. On the first day of August I was surprised to see Joe
+Bellot enter the ward. The brigade had marched into Richmond, and
+was about to take the cars for Gordonsville in order to join
+Jackson, who was making head against Pope. It was only a few
+minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had to hurry back to the
+command.</p>
+<p>Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a
+furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home
+was Company H.</p>
+<p>I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong
+rapidly, when the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks
+at Cedar Run. Then my feverish anxiety to see the one or two
+persons in the world whom I loved became intense. I walked into the
+surgeon's office, keeping myself straight, and asked an order
+remanding me to my company. He flatly refused to give it. Said he,
+"You would never reach your company; where is it, by the way?"</p>
+<p>"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.</p>
+<p>"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."</p>
+<p>On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You
+would have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it
+would be insane."</p>
+<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."</p>
+<p>"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a
+half by getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me
+again in about a week."</p>
+<p>I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving
+me my papers, by means of which I got transportation to
+Gordonsville, where I arrived, in company with many soldiers
+returning to their commands, on August 22d. From Gordonsville I
+took the road north afoot. There was no difficulty in knowing the
+way, for there was no lack of men and wagons going and returning. I
+had filled a haversack with food before I left Richmond--enough for
+two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were all my
+possessions.</p>
+<p>At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot
+dusty road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which
+stopped as I approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to
+him. He said: "Don't go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man
+in the road and he's a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go
+round him." I thanked the teamster, who drove on. At the foot of
+the ascending hill I looked ahead to see whether there was a way to
+get round it, but the road seemed better than any other way. Heavy
+clouds were rolling up from the south, with wind and thunder. A
+farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the road; I wanted to get
+there if possible before the rain. In the road I saw nobody. I
+walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend the wagoner
+was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the side of
+the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into the
+middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun
+at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a
+word. Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an
+unpleasant experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he
+changed his attitude at once, and began the second part of his
+programme. He dropped his piece to the position of ordered arms,
+kept himself erect as on dress-parade, raised his right hand high,
+and shouted, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p>
+<p>I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip
+round him, keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun
+might, after all, be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his
+cry, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p>
+<p>The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him,
+and seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks
+with overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by
+cattle, I was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could
+hear behind me the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had
+lost his reason in battle.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting
+to surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were
+moving; Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General
+Gregg, riding at the head of his brigade; then one regiment after
+another till the last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C
+leading. I remained behind the tree; at last I could see Captain
+Haskell marching by the side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I
+stepped out and marched by the side of the Captain. At first, in
+the twilight, he did not know me; then, with a touch of gladness in
+his voice, he said: "I did not expect you back so soon. Are you
+fully recovered?"</p>
+<p>"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.</p>
+<p>He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and
+had me tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He
+informed me briefly of the movements which had taken place
+recently. The regiment had been under fire in the battle with
+Banks, but had not suffered any loss. On this day--the 24th--the
+regiment had been under fire of the Federal artillery on the
+Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a place called
+Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first movements
+of an active campaign.</p>
+<p>The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in
+the battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and
+hardship had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was
+almost the only officer in the company. My mess had broken up.
+There were but four remaining of the original nine, and these four
+had found it more convenient for two men, or even one, to form a
+mess. I found a companion in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been
+wounded severely at Gaines's Mill. Bellot had a big quart cup in
+which we boiled soup, and coffee when we had any, or burnt-bread
+for coffee when the real stuff was lacking. Flour and bacon were
+issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth, or gum-blanket
+as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by spreading
+it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When these
+boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender
+rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the
+fire on wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food
+brought from Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's
+ration was issued.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's
+right. I had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed
+so as to keep up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in
+the ranks or not, as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men.
+The day's march was something terrible. We went west, and
+northwest, and north, fording streams, taking short cuts across
+fields, hurrying on and on. No train of wagons delayed our march;
+our next rations must be won from the enemy. Jackson's rule in
+marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then ten minutes
+rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched, and
+rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at
+once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac
+near a village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles
+to the west of Pope's right flank.</p>
+<p>There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A
+detail from each company was ordered to gather the green ears from
+some fields of corn purchased for the use of the government. That
+night I committed the crime of eating eighteen of the ears half
+roasted.</p>
+<p>At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon
+straggled. I was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a
+place for me in some ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick
+woods and lay down; I slept, and when I awoke the sun was in
+mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps was ten miles ahead, but I was no
+longer ill. The troops had all passed me; there were no men on the
+road except a few stragglers like myself. I hurried forward through
+White Plains--then along a railroad through a gap in some
+mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last, about ten
+o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in despair,
+I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.</p>
+<p>Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry
+toward the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at
+sunrise, and soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our
+troops. Up to this time I had been unarmed, and all the men
+destitute of food; here now was an embarrassment of riches. I got a
+short Enfield rifle, marked for eleven hundred yards. Everything
+was in abundance except good water. The troops of Jackson and Ewell
+and Hill crammed their haversacks, and loaded themselves with
+whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies in too many cases.
+Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of smoking
+tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of
+vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea,
+medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken
+or burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were
+forced to drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its
+margin, and I know not what horrors beneath its green, slimy
+surface. Before daylight of the 28th we marched northward in the
+glare of the burning cars and camps. We crossed Bull Run on a
+bridge, some of the men fording; here we got better water, but not
+good water.</p>
+<p>In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed
+to know the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we
+making for Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain.
+He told me that he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place,
+but that he had no doubt we should be able to hold our own until
+Longstreet could force his way to our help. We were between Pope's
+army and Washington, and it was certain that Pope would make every
+effort to crush Jackson.</p>
+<p>About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west,
+down the Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's
+division had marched to Centreville; the other divisions of
+Jackson's corps were at the west, and beyond Bull Run. After
+matching a mile or two we could see to the eastward and south,
+great clouds of dust rolling up above the woods, evidently made by
+a column in march upon the road by which, we had that morning
+advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that Pope's army--or
+a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope was hot
+after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and halted
+in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most of
+us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and
+were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty.
+My increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in
+fact, the greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and
+accoutrements--consisted in food which diminished at short
+intervals. We could not yet expect rations.</p>
+<p>We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to
+march, and moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed
+line facing south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed
+the whole of Hill's division was there, though I could see only our
+regiment. Soon firing began at our right and right front; it
+increased in volume, and artillery and musketry roared and subsided
+until dark and after. At dark, the brigade again moved to the
+right, seemingly to support the troops that had been engaged, and
+which we found to be Ewell's division.</p>
+<p>We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to
+preserve the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of
+the enemy was passing just beyond the hills in front of us.
+Suddenly the sound of many voices broke out beyond the hills. The
+Federal column was cheering. Near and far the cry rose and fell as
+one command after another took it from the next. What the noise was
+made for I never knew; probably Pope's sanguine order, in which he
+expressed the certainty of having "the whole crowd bagged," had
+been made known to his troops for the purpose of encouraging them.
+Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what good fortune had
+made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet I believe
+that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night, had
+confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a
+certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one
+more victory.</p>
+<p>Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I
+do not know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very
+far, and that when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing
+northeast. Already the sound of musketry and cannon had been heard
+close in our front. Our regiment, left in front, was in the woods.
+We brought our right in front, and then the brigade moved forward
+down a slope to an unfinished railroad.</p>
+<p>Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that
+he would not need it.</p>
+<p>Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers.
+The regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into
+the fields beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company
+H. The regiment met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments
+from the brigade were hurried to the support of the First, which,
+by this time, was falling back before a full division of the enemy.
+The brigade retired in good order to the railroad, and Company H
+was ordered back into the battle line on the left of the First.</p>
+<a name="367.png"></a>
+<p class="ctr"><img src="images/367.png" width="50%" alt=""><br>
+<br>
+<b>Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"</b></p>
+<p>It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment,
+under Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods
+as skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We
+came up with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began
+firing. We advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly
+through the woods. After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing
+that our small force was much too far from support, order was given
+to the skirmishers to retire; a heavy line of the enemy had been
+developed. This order did not reach my ears. I suppose that I was
+in the very act of firing when the order was given. While
+reloading, I became aware that the company had retired, as I could
+see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line some
+thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I
+feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many
+rifles. The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from
+my tree to another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar
+movement--and again--at each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and
+considering in front. At last I was out of sight of the enemy, and
+also out of sight of Company H.</p>
+<p>The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg
+had not regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well
+as weak. I crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for
+water. Still no enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or
+pool, following the wet place down a gentle slope, which inclined
+to my right oblique as I retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank
+my fill; then I filled my canteen and rose to my feet
+refreshed.</p>
+<p>Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar
+spanning the little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there
+for a second. Here was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide,
+this spot was what I should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen
+tree, mingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.</p>
+<p>The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began
+to wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I
+crossed here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the
+right. What was the secret of the influence which the spot held
+over me? I had seen it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly
+puzzled.</p>
+<p>On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I
+picked up the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up
+the stock. Why should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew
+not, but I knew that I was drawn in some way by it. On the stock
+were carved the letters J. B. Who had owned this gun? John Brown?
+James Butler? Then the thought came suddenly--why not Jones
+Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd? Did I know who I was,
+or where I had been, or where I had not been?</p>
+<p>A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I
+dropped the gun and ran.</p>
+<p>I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And
+now we made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our
+position was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade,
+which was posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all
+around us. Soon the blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began
+firing. The Federals sprang at once to trees and began popping away
+at us. The range was close. Grant was mortally hit. My group of
+four on that day was reduced to one man. Goettee fell, and Godley.
+We kept up the fight. But now a blue line of battle could be seen
+advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept coming, reserving their
+fire until they should pass beyond their skirmish-line. We should
+have withdrawn at once, but waited until the line of battle had
+reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to fall back. When
+we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us, and we lost
+some men.</p>
+<p>Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which
+was now the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of
+the corps. Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's
+line.</p>
+<p>General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of
+Pope's army, without severing communication with Longstreet; but
+the developments of the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope
+and Washington while yet the corps of Longstreet was two days'
+march behind, and beyond the Bull Run mountains. Pope had made
+dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay Longstreet he occupied with
+a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which Jackson had marched and
+I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his other divisions had
+marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to retreat toward
+the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division reached
+Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope was
+marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer
+Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which
+had occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the
+passage of Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was
+thus forced to yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during
+the night of the 28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington
+without a battle, but he decided to overwhelm Jackson before
+Longstreet could reach the field, and attacked hotly on the
+Confederate left.</p>
+<p>The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in
+consequence of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of
+Pope to overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope
+until Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within
+six hours' march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying
+in the woods, Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat,
+were marching with rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in
+their front, where, upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing
+division after division into the fight.</p>
+<p>Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a
+rail fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far
+side of the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of
+our line did not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in
+the battle we were forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the
+Federals advancing through the field to turn our left.</p>
+<p>Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme
+left before the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their
+coming straight through the woods upon us. They reached the
+undergrowth which bordered the farther side of the railroad way.
+The orders of their officers could be heard. We lay in the open
+woods, each man behind a tree as far as was possible; but the trees
+were too few. The dense bushes, which had grown up in the edge of
+the railroad way, effectually concealed the enemy. We were hoping
+for them to come on and get into view, but they remained in the
+bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We returned
+their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots
+would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at
+the line of smoke in the thick bushes.</p>
+<p>Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had
+retired; but if they had done so, it was only to give place to a
+fresh body of troops, which opened upon us a new and terrific fire.
+We had nothing to do but to endure and fire into the bushes. If our
+line had attempted to cross the railroad, not one of us would have
+reached it; the Federals also were afraid to advance.</p>
+<p>Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was
+only premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we
+stood that day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal
+lines gave way, or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods
+were thick with dead. Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box
+were dead. Joe Bellot was fearfully wounded. Many had been carried
+to the rear, and many yet lay bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be
+taken out when the fight ceased. Each man lay behind the best tree
+he could get; the trees had become more plentiful. We fired lying,
+kneeling, standing, sometimes running; but the line held. If we had
+had but the smallest breastwork!--but we had none.</p>
+<p>In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a
+force around our left--through the open field; but each time they
+were driven back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we
+could not see, somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before
+this time Longstreet had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of
+great fighting came from the east and southeast.</p>
+<p>We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although
+our boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up
+the cartridges of our wounded and dead.</p>
+<p>Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive
+with Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened
+ranks,--no longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots
+went high; before the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they
+had not waited to reload.</p>
+<p>Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near
+that every shot told.</p>
+<p>Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected
+groups; they are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a
+towering man--his sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great
+form and his long red hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour
+of his bearing. He makes no pause. He strikes right and left. Men
+fall away from him. Our group is scattering, some to gain time to
+load, others in flight. The great sergeant rushes toward me; his
+gun rises again in his mighty hands, and the blow descends. I slip
+aside; the force of the blow almost carries him to the ground, but
+he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his gun back over his
+shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will strike. I raise
+my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his expression
+yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed
+determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes
+through an indescribable change as the blood spouts from his
+forehead and he falls lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my
+rear<a name="FNanchor7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7">[7]</a>.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor7">[7]</a>
+The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's
+brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back
+Gregg's worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade
+of Ewell's division. [ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to
+flee from either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold
+fast and fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I
+see our flag, and near it a flag of the Federals.</p>
+<p>In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is
+left of them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic
+Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's
+sake, stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the
+flag. Our line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling
+away. Defeat is here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will
+shine the brightest over America; but now from our rear a
+Confederate yell rises high and shrill through the bullet-scarred
+forest, and a fresh brigade advances at the charge, relieves the
+vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far back the Federal tide of
+war. It was none too soon.</p>
+<p>On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered
+roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen
+responded; we had lost none as prisoners.</p>
+<p>The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in
+reserve. We were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in
+the rear of our position of the 29th, and details were burying our
+dead, when we were ordered to form. We marched some distance to the
+left. A low grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail
+fence at the woods about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came
+amongst us from the fence at the woods, toward which we were
+marching in column of fours, right in front. I heard the order from
+Major McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and Haskell
+repeated--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>On the right--by
+file--into line--MARCH</i>!" This manoeuvre brought the regiment
+into column of companies still marching in its former direction,
+Company H being the rear of all.</p>
+<p>Again I heard McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and
+Haskell again--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>Left--half
+wheel</i>!" and Haskell--"<i>Left wheel</i>!"--then
+McCrady--"<i>Forward into line</i>," and both
+voices--"<i>Double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p>
+<p>It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close
+fire and by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective
+companies executed simultaneously their work, and as their
+graduated distances demanded, rushed forward, with a speed
+constantly increasing toward the left company, Company H, which
+wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence from which the enemy
+fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell severely wounded.</p>
+<p>For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged.
+We heard the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further
+part.</p>
+<p>On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying
+under fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or
+Chantilly as the Yankees call it. The regiment did not become
+engaged.</p>
+<p>The campaign of eight days was over.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2>
+<h3>CAPTAIN HASKELL</h3>
+<center>"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,<br>
+Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;And cometh from afar;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;Not in entire forgetfulness,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;And not in utter nakedness,<br>
+But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br>
+From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe
+Bellot was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept
+alone.</p>
+<p>For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one
+of these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me
+to accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was
+being done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he
+ordered in clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the
+duty had ended, he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree
+yonder."</p>
+<p>The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left---
+that is, the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both
+vedettes and pickets, so far as they could be seen for the
+irregularities of ground. Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw
+off all official reserve.</p>
+<p>"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company
+did its full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when
+the Yankees made that last charge."</p>
+<p>"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved
+earlier," said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a
+little to the right of our position, the men fought the enemy with
+stones for lack of cartridges."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next
+movement?"</p>
+<p>"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am
+convinced that we cannot remain where we are."</p>
+<p>"Why?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I
+am told that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville.
+The bridges are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to
+rebuild them, as they would be constantly in danger from the
+enemy's cavalry. I am informed that McClellan's whole army, as well
+as Burnside's corps from North Carolina, has joined Pope; General
+McClellan is said to be in command. If Pope's army, which we have
+just fought, was larger than ours, then McClellan's combined forces
+must be more than twice as great as General Lee's."</p>
+<p>"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I
+speculate also. It seems to me that every mile of a further advance
+would but take from our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If
+we could seize Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do
+that, I think, and as for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it.
+Even to sit down here could do us no good, I imagine; our
+communications would be always interrupted."</p>
+<p>"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I
+asked.</p>
+<p>"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am
+puzzled," he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an
+opportunity to gain time for the South to recuperate, if we make
+prudent demonstrations; but an actual advance does not appear
+possible. General Lee may make a show of advancing; I dare say we
+could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does not such manoeuvre
+meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our enemies know it
+or should know it."</p>
+<p>I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an
+instance of his unfailing habit of courtesy.</p>
+<p>"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here,
+and ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat,
+what other course is possible?"</p>
+<p>"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to
+the belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take
+Harper's Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland
+people."</p>
+<p>"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a
+considerable garrison."</p>
+<p>"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like
+McClellan's?"</p>
+<p>"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once,
+I should think that there would then be no good reason for this
+army's crossing the river. But military success is said to be
+obtained, in the majority of cases, from the mistakes of the
+losers. It might be that we could take Harper's Ferry at very
+little cost; and even if we should fail, we should be prolonging
+the campaign upon ground that we cannot hope to occupy permanently,
+and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What I fear, however, is
+that the movement would bring on another general engagement; and I
+think you will agree with me in believing that we are not prepared
+for that."</p>
+<p>"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.</p>
+<p>"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"</p>
+<p>"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last
+experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday
+there happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of
+it."</p>
+<p>"May I ask what it was?"</p>
+<p>"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen
+before."</p>
+<p>"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are
+typical. Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in
+twenty other places."</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical
+features of the place that awoke recognition."</p>
+<p>"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.</p>
+<p>"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced
+as skirmishers?"</p>
+<p>"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the
+Captain.</p>
+<p>"And you remember the order to fall back?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly, since I took the initiative."</p>
+<p>"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the
+very moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it.
+At any rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and
+retreated as skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight.
+I saw some signs of water, and soon found a branch, at a place
+which impressed me so strongly that for a moment I forgot even that
+the battle was going on. I am almost certain that I had quenched my
+thirst at that spot once before. Besides, there was an
+extraordinary--"</p>
+<p>"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the
+first battle of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last
+year's battle, you came upon it from the east or the south. The
+positions of the armies the other day were almost opposite their
+positions last year. In sixty-one the Federals had almost our
+position of last Friday. It will be well to find out what South
+Carolina troops were in the first battle. By the way, General Bee,
+who was killed there, was from South Carolina; I will ask Aleck to
+tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had
+been there in some former life."</p>
+<p>"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a
+thought or have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with
+such an idea."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"</p>
+<p>"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question
+surprises me, sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such
+subjects?"</p>
+<p>"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have
+once been familiar to me."</p>
+<p>"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is
+no telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine;
+you may have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading
+would have influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to
+thoughtful subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I
+think it quite probable, sir, without flattery, that at college
+your professor had an apt student."</p>
+<p>"But you do not believe the doctrine?"</p>
+<p>"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that
+we live after death."</p>
+<p>"And that I shall be I again and again?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you
+will be you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one
+death."</p>
+<p>"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your
+former experiences?"</p>
+<p>"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I
+might go so far as to say that it makes no difference."</p>
+<p>"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the
+past me with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought
+there, Captain. It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one
+before, and another now,--and that really I have lived this present
+time, or these present times, in two bodies and with two
+minds."</p>
+<p>"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought
+as to your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that
+memory is necessary to identity?"</p>
+<p>"And that is error?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves
+it. If memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you
+have a personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have
+you taken?"</p>
+<p>"I do remember some things," said I.</p>
+<p>"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof
+that you are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any
+one. Every one has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what
+happened when he was in swaddling clothes, though he is the same
+person now that he was then, which proves that although a person
+loses his memory, he does not on that account, sir, lose his
+identity."</p>
+<p>"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."</p>
+<p>"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am,
+except that I am I."</p>
+<p>"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.</p>
+<p>"And I am distinct? independent?"</p>
+<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the
+world who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know
+that we are seriously considering such a question."</p>
+<p>This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in
+some inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among
+fragments of thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten
+past. I felt helpless in the presence of the Captain; I could not
+presume to press his good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he
+added: "A man is distinct from other men, but not from himself. He
+constantly changes, and constantly remains the same."</p>
+<p>"That is hard to understand, Captain."</p>
+<p>"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything
+means every other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing,
+even the least,--if there be a least,--we should necessarily
+comprehend all things," said the Captain.</p>
+<p>Then he talked at large of the relations that bind
+everything--and of matter, force, spirit, which he called a
+trinity.</p>
+<p>"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God
+has the properties of matter?"</p>
+<p>"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter.
+Even our minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is
+anything else we conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are
+we bound to matter, and our thoughts are limited."</p>
+<p>"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"</p>
+<p>"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to
+image force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We
+try to image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to
+how God looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our
+imagination. Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot
+attribute extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the
+infinite mind has parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a
+contradiction."</p>
+<p>"Then God has no properties?"</p>
+<p>"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them,
+He has all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must
+attribute elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an
+elastic universal."</p>
+<p>"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force,
+and spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between
+God and matter?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above
+force."</p>
+<p>"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of
+it can be lost," said I.</p>
+<p>"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking
+at me fixedly, almost sternly.</p>
+<p>The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where
+<i>had</i> I heard it? My attention had been so fastened on the
+Captain's philosophy that it now seemed to me that I had become
+unguarded, and that from outside of me a thought had been sent into
+my mind by some unknown power; I could not know whence the thought
+had come. I had suddenly felt that I had heard the theory in
+question. I knew that, the moment before, I could not have said
+what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without feeling that I
+was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain Haskell.
+Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had
+spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I
+had heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken
+differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a
+place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to
+something. But the flash had vanished.</p>
+<p>"It is lost," I said.</p>
+<p>"I am sorry," said he.</p>
+<p>"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.</p>
+<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p>
+<p>"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot
+where I got water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun
+with J.B. on the stock."</p>
+<p>"Are you sure, Jones?"</p>
+<p>"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them
+closely."</p>
+<p>"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other
+reflections."</p>
+<p>"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."</p>
+<p>"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain;
+"you almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your
+name is Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of
+initials. Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."</p>
+<p>"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said
+I.</p>
+<p>"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult
+than J.B.?"</p>
+<p>"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three
+initials."</p>
+<p>"Yes, you are right in that," he said.</p>
+<p>"And I know I am right about my name." said I.</p>
+<p>"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We
+have three--or did have three--other men in the company whose
+initials are J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not
+recognize your own work in the lettering?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody
+might imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not
+another J.B. in Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant
+that he had any connection with that gun."</p>
+<p>"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"</p>
+<p>"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than
+Berwick. Beside, if you should change now, it would cause
+remark."</p>
+<p>"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South
+Carolina regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he.
+"You may go with me to see him to-night if you will."</p>
+<p>That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general,
+was able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of
+troops from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from
+that state. After hearing my description of the place which I
+thought I had revisited, he expressed the opinion that no
+Confederate troops at all had reached the spot in the battle of
+sixty-one. The place, he said, was more than a mile from the
+position of the Confederate army in the battle; still, he admitted,
+many scattered Federals retreated over the ground which interested
+me so greatly, and it was possible that some Confederates had been
+over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but as for pursuit,
+there had been none. I asked if it could have been possible for me
+to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the rear of the
+Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been allowed to
+keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in missing
+too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a baker's
+dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I
+think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there
+as a scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys
+call him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was
+at Stone Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell
+had turned our left and was marching down from Sudley. You might
+have been sent out to watch the enemy; yet I am confident that
+Evans would have used his cavalry for that purpose, for he had a
+company of cavalry in his command. A more plausible guess might be
+that you were out foraging that morning and got cut off. I will
+look up the Fourth South Carolina for you, and try to learn
+something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and I should not
+advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced that
+you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been
+recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection
+with your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find
+out who you are."</p>
+<p>"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose
+that a letter addressed to the manager would answer."</p>
+<p>"Certainly."</p>
+<p>"But--" I began.</p>
+<p>"But what?"</p>
+<p>"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an
+unknown man to tell me who I am?"</p>
+<p>"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who
+by this speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed
+on the roll of his company.</p>
+<p>As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain
+whether, in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged
+to the Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was
+pleased, evidently, by this question, and said that he should
+certainly try to hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should
+hope to be able to do so, as transfers were frequently granted, and
+as an application from me would come with peculiar force when the
+circumstances should be made known at headquarters. Of course,
+there would be no difficulty unless the application should be
+disapproved by my company commander, that is, the commander of my
+original company.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C."
+inquiring if a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his
+house about October 17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to
+learn from the hotel register, or from any other known source, the
+home of said Berwick.</p>
+<p>To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2>
+<h3>BEYOND THE POTOMAC</h3>
+<center>"Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,<br>
+And we are graced with wreaths of victory;<br>
+But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,<br>
+I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,<br>
+That will encounter with our glorious sun."<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in
+September, and marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th
+at White's Ford near Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in
+Maryland about midday of the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which,
+for the time, was too hard for me. My wound had again given me
+trouble; while wading the Potomac I noticed fresh blood on the
+scar.</p>
+<p>We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning
+Owens of Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly
+fell back and began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to
+him, but could do nothing to help him. He struggled for a few
+moments and became rigid. Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought
+there was no sense in going for help when all was over. The surgeon
+came and soon got Owens upon his feet. This incident made a deep
+impression on me. It seemed a forcible illustration of the trite
+sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life there's hope," and it
+became to me a source of frequent encouragement.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap
+of the Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful
+valley, dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody
+seamed to know.</p>
+<p>We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the
+Potomac at Williamsport, where we learned definitely that
+Longstreet's wing of the army had been held in Maryland. We marched
+southward to Martinsburg. The inhabitants were greatly rejoiced,
+and were surprised to find Confederate troops coming amongst them
+from the north. At Martinsburg were many evidences that we were
+near the enemy. Captain Haskell said that it was now clear that Lee
+intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that Longstreet's retention on
+the north side of the Potomac was part of the plan. We destroyed
+the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward the east.
+Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's
+Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon
+from our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing
+shells into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were
+replying.</p>
+<p>On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right.
+We found a narrow road running down the river,--the
+Shenandoah,--and moved on cautiously. There were strict orders to
+preserve silence. The guns were uncapped, to prevent an accidental
+discharge. In the middle of the night we moved out of the road and
+began to climb the hill on our left; it was very steep and rough;
+we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut a way for the
+artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.</p>
+<p>When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the
+enemy. Our batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of
+battle. The enemy replies with all his guns, but they were soon
+silenced. A brigade at our left seemed ready to advance; the
+enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then from our left a battery
+stormed forward to a new position much nearer to the enemy. We were
+ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to advance, but was at
+once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered, with eleven
+thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and munitions
+in great quantity.</p>
+<p>We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two,
+far-off sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after
+the surrender, A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only
+division at Harper's Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's
+corps having marched away, some said to the help of Longstreet on
+the north side of the Potomac; then we felt that some great event
+was near, and we wondered whether it should befall us to remain
+distant from the army during a great engagement.</p>
+<p>The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard
+in the north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in
+position while our details worked in organizing the captured
+property. The prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that
+they were to be released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered
+along the roads on the 15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he
+rode by, and they seemed to admire him no less than his own men
+did. Late in the afternoon the regiment marched out of the lines of
+Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for the night some two miles to the
+west of the town.</p>
+<p>On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up
+the Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle
+were heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was
+hot, and the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick.
+About one o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond
+the river the march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had
+fallen out before we reached the river; now many more began to
+straggle. All the while the roar of a great battle extended across
+our front, mostly in our left front. We passed through a village
+called Sharpsburg. Its streets were encumbered with wagons,
+ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all the horrid results of
+war that choke the roads in rear of an army engaged in a great
+battle.</p>
+<p>Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one
+side of a hill and down the other side. On the slope of the
+opposite hill we halted, some of the troops being protected by a
+stone fence. The noise of battle was everywhere, and increasing at
+our right, almost on our right flank. Wounded men were streaming
+by; the litter-bearers were busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as
+waiting while in expectation of being called on to restore a lost
+battle from which the wounded and dead are being carried. Our time
+was near.</p>
+<p>Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg
+dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the
+colonels and the captains. We were to advance.</p>
+<p>While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect
+the capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before
+McClellan, who had collected an immense army and had advanced. The
+North had risen at the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac
+and McClellan's army, vast as it was, yet continued to receive
+reinforcements almost daily; his army was perhaps stronger than it
+had been before his disastrous campaign of the Chickahominy, his
+troops on James River had marched down the Peninsula and had been
+taken in transports to Fredericksburg and Alexandria. Porter's and
+Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had fought under Pope in
+the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had his own army,
+Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that could be
+got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize
+Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his
+lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in
+danger of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the
+surrender at Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched
+to re&euml;nforce Longstreet. Had not time been so pressing, Hill's
+division would not have been ordered to assault the works at
+Harper's Ferry--an assault which was begun and which was made
+unnecessary by the surrender.</p>
+<p>McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the
+separation of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's
+special order outlining his movements had fallen into General
+McClellan's hands. This order was dated September 9th; it gave
+instructions to Jackson to seize Harper's Ferry, and it directed
+the movements of Longstreet. With this information, General
+McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered General Franklin
+to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of Harper's
+Perry.</p>
+<p>On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked
+D.H. Hill's division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro,
+and Franklin carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though
+both of these attacks were successful, the resistance of the
+Confederates had in each case been sufficient to gain time for
+Jackson. On the 15th Harper's Ferry surrendered, and McClellan
+continued to advance; Longstreet prepared for battle.</p>
+<p>The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army,
+the Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.</p>
+<p>At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced
+march of seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found
+itself in front of the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting
+of Burnside's corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition
+in its front, and was now advancing to seize the ford at
+Shepherdstown and cut off Lee from the Potomac.</p>
+<p>A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few
+brigades which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout
+resistance, but, too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our
+right. Into the gap we were ordered. In the edge of the corn a
+rabbit jumped up and ran along in front of the line; a few shots
+were fired at it by some excited men on our left. These shots
+seemed the signal for the Federals to show themselves; they were in
+the corn, advancing upon us while we were moving upon them. There
+were three lines of them. Our charge broke their first line; it
+fell back on the second and both ran; the third line stood. We
+advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line
+fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of
+the hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also
+in thick corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this
+next hill a Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire
+only, as the guns and men were almost entirely covered. This
+battery was perhaps four hundred yards from us, and almost directly
+in front of the left wing of the First. The corn on our slope and
+in the hollow was full of Federals running in disorder. We loaded
+and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the naked slope opposite was
+dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired, and loaded and
+fired.</p>
+<p>In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet
+glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades
+of corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was
+afraid to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had
+not thought too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the
+butt on the ground, and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could
+be seen but the bayonet. I fired at the ground below the bayonet.
+The bayonet fell.</p>
+<p>An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a
+gallant officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to
+stop. He threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run
+on as soon as his back was turned. They were right to run at this
+moment, and he was wrong in trying to form on the naked slope.
+Beyond the hilltop was the place to rally, and the men knew it, and
+the gallant officer did not. He rode from group to group of fleeing
+men as they streamed up the hill. He was a most conspicuous target.
+Many shots were fired at him, but he continued to ride and to storm
+at the men and to wave his sword. Suddenly his head went down, his
+body doubled up, and he lay stretched on the ground. The riderless
+horse galloped off a few yards, then returned to his master, bent
+his head to the prostrate man, and fell almost upon him.</p>
+<p>The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On
+our left they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the
+sound of heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to
+develop from our left until they were uncovered in our front. They
+advanced, right and left; just upon our own position the pressure
+was not yet great, but we felt that the Twelfth regiment, which
+joined us on our left, must soon yield to greatly superior numbers,
+and would carry our flank with it when it went. The fight now raged
+hotter than before. I saw Captain Parker, of Company K, near to us.
+His face was a mass of blood--his jaw broken. The regiment was so
+small that, although Company H was on its left, I saw Sam Wigg, a
+corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his face. Then the
+Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the pressure upon
+us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and, while
+driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked.
+Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in
+retiring, it caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back.
+Now the enemy moved on the First from the front and the regiment
+retired hastily through the corn, and formed easily again at the
+stone fence from which it had advanced at the beginning of the
+contest. The battle was over. The enemy came no farther, and the
+fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.</p>
+<p>All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in
+position. A few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we
+were in hourly expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the
+Federals did not advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we
+were once more in Virginia.</p>
+<p>While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the
+battle of Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been
+fortunate, it was clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely
+escaped a great disaster. I have always thought that McClellan had
+it in his power on the 18th of September to bring the war to an
+end. Lee had fought the battle with a force not exceeding forty
+thousand men, and had lost nearly a third. McClellan, on the 18th,
+was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he waited a full day,
+and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross, almost leisurely,
+the difficult river in their rear.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of
+Shepherdstown.</p>
+<p>On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll
+called us once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the
+Potomac. Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be
+seen here and there. Men said that in the night McClellan had
+thrown a force to the south side of the river, and had surprised
+and taken some of our artillery. As we drew near the river, we
+could see the smoke of cannon in action spouting from the farther
+side, and from our side came the crackling of musketry fire.</p>
+<p>The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two
+lines of three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first
+line. Orr's Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and
+advanced to the river bank. The division moved behind the
+skirmishers. The ground was open. We marched down a slope covered
+with corn in part, and reached a bare and undulating field that
+stretched to the trees bordering the river. As soon as the division
+had passed the corn, the Federal batteries north of the Potomac
+began to work upon our ranks. The first shots flew a little above
+us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping well the alignment.
+The next shots struck the ground in front of us and exploded--with
+what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our range and
+made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards, was a
+depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells
+burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched
+on at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie
+down. The sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the
+hollow; they hugged the earth thick. Shells would burst at the
+crown of the low hill ten steps in front and throw iron everywhere.
+The aim of the Federal gunners was horribly true.</p>
+<p>We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water.
+Behind us came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells
+bursting in the ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were
+coming in their turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far
+above us to strike this new and exposed line. Behind us came the
+brigade; right against Company H came the centre of a regiment. The
+red flag was marching straight. The regiment reached our hollow;
+there was no room; it flanked to the left by fours; a shell struck
+the colour-group; the flag leaped in the air and fell amongst four
+dead men. A little pause, and the flag was again alive, and the
+regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.</p>
+<p>For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The
+fight had long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal
+batteries. To rise and march out would be to lose many men
+uselessly.</p>
+<p>A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt
+my hat fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a
+great pain seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was
+hit, but how badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such
+agony that I feared to look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I
+was the tallest man in Company H, and the Captain was lying very
+near to me. I said to him that I was done for. "What!" said he,
+"again? You must break that habit, Jones." I wanted to be taken
+out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and the heat and
+the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look. Perhaps I
+lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last I
+looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great
+contusion, and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the
+regiment, for the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not
+lessened their fire, and the sun was hot, and the men were
+suffering.</p>
+<p>As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched
+back to bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food
+and, at length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a
+fearful day.</p>
+<p>In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the
+Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded
+in getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who
+attempted the crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but
+with what truth I do not know--that blue corpses floated past
+Washington.</p>
+<p>After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps
+near Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where
+water was plentiful.</p>
+<p>From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven
+days--the Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns:
+first, that of the week in front of Richmond; second, that of
+Manassas; third, that of Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The
+Confederates had been clearly victorious in the first two, and had
+succeeded in the last in withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's
+Ferry, and with the honours of a drawn battle against McClellan's
+mighty army.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2>
+<h3>FOREBODINGS</h3>
+<center>"<i>King John</i>. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.<br>
+<i>King Philip</i>. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near
+Bunker Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we
+learned of Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies
+of it were seen in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device
+of the enemy. Most of the officers and men of Company H were not
+greatly impressed by this action on the part of the Northern
+President. I have reason to know, however, that Captain Haskell
+regarded the proclamation a serious matter. One day I had heard two
+men of our company--Davis and Stokes--talking.</p>
+<p>"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.</p>
+<p>"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.</p>
+<p>"Yes; haven't you?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."</p>
+<p>"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"</p>
+<p>"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for
+Limus and Peagler."</p>
+<p>Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was
+one of Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but
+he could not write.</p>
+<p>The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain
+Haskell, and unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had
+undergone a modification that was very welcome to me; his previous
+reserve, indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a
+friendly interest, yet he was always courteous.</p>
+<p>"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course
+you do not wish me to speak to the men about you."</p>
+<p>"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters
+worse."</p>
+<p>"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"</p>
+<p>"Not a word, sir."</p>
+<p>"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased
+to exist."</p>
+<p>"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the
+Fourth South Carolina?"</p>
+<p>"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think
+nothing further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such
+a man as Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that
+regiment. We shall know in a few days."</p>
+<p>"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.</p>
+<p>"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do.
+McClellan is giving us another display of caution, sir."</p>
+<p>"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month,"
+said I.</p>
+<p>"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."</p>
+<p>"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be
+said for McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has
+considerable nerve, as is shown by his resistance to popular
+clamour, and even to the urgency of the Washington authorities. The
+last papers that we have got hold of show that Lincoln is
+displeased with his general's inactivity. By the way, the war now
+assumes a new aspect."</p>
+<p>"In what respect, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the
+North to compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir.
+He burns his bridges."</p>
+<p>"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth
+greater effort?"</p>
+<p>"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel
+more strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men,
+such as are in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe,
+after a while, that the South is at war principally to maintain
+slavery, and in slavery they feel no interest at stake. In such
+conditions the South can do no more than she is now doing. She may
+continue to hold her present strength for a year or two more, but
+to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our ability. The
+proclamation will effectually prevent any European power from
+recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to
+endure a long war."</p>
+<p>"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue
+a war of invasion?"</p>
+<p>"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than
+defence. But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a
+defensive battle. Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are
+just the reverse. The way to win this war, allow me to say, is to
+fight behind trees and rocks and hedges and earthworks: never to
+risk a man in the open except where absolutely necessary, and when
+absolute victory is sure. To husband her resources in men and means
+is the South's first duty, sir. I hope General Lee will never fight
+another offensive battle."</p>
+<p>"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank
+any line of intrenchments that we might make?"</p>
+<p>"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which
+skilful generalship would know how to seize. If no such
+opportunities came, I would have the army to fall back and dig
+again."</p>
+<p>"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to
+the last ditch," said I.</p>
+<p>"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they
+need. Of course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical
+limit. It might be said that we could not fall back and leave our
+territory, which supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy.
+But to counteract this theory we have others. Disease would tell on
+the enemy more than on ourselves. Our interior lines would be
+shortened, and we could re&euml;nforce easily. The enemy, in living
+on our country, would be exposed to our enterprises. His lines of
+communication would always be in danger. And he would attack. The
+public opinion of the North would compel attack, and we should
+defeat attacks and lose but few men."</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change
+in the conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's
+Emancipation Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an
+end to hope of aid or intervention from Europe. His hope in the
+success of the South was high, however. The North might be strong,
+but the South had the righteous cause. He was saddened by the
+thought that the war would be a long one, and that many men must
+perish.</p>
+<p>I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare
+time, from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led
+Captain Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than
+he thought.</p>
+<p>He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for
+a long war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it
+mattered little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to
+expect any discovery of my former home and friends, and the army
+seemed a refuge. What would become of me if the war should end
+suddenly? I did not feel prepared for any work; I know no business
+or trade. Even if I had one, it would be tame after Lee's
+campaigns.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXX"></a>XXX</h2>
+<h3>TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS</h3>
+<center>"What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,<br>
+The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?<br>
+The varying fortune of each separate field,<br>
+The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now
+occupied a line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at
+Bunker Hill. We heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan;
+speculation was rife as to the character of the new commander. It
+was easy to believe that the Federal army would soon give us work
+to do; its change of leaders clearly showed aggressive purpose,
+McClellan being distinguished more for caution than for disposition
+to attack.</p>
+<p>On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley.
+The march lasted many days. We passed through Winchester,
+Strasburg, Woodstock, and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap,
+and marched to Madison Court-House. From Madison we marched to
+Orange, and finally to Fredericksburg, where the army was again
+united by our arrival on December 3d. The march had been painful.
+For part of the time I had been barefoot. Many of the men were yet
+without shoes.</p>
+<p>The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the
+morning of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the
+lines, I awoke with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling
+generally. The surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and
+ordered me to the camp hospital, which consisted of two or three
+Sibley tents in the woods. I was laid on a bed of straw and covered
+with blankets.</p>
+<p>I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How
+far off the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of
+Company H came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the
+11th two of them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to
+march; the enemy was crossing the river and was expected to attack.
+These men told me afterward that when they said good-by they felt
+they were saying the long farewell; I was not expected to
+recover.</p>
+<p>On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of
+Fredericksburg roaring at the front, some two or three miles away,
+I was too ill to feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the
+morning, I was lifted into an open wagon and covered with a single
+blanket. In this condition I was jolted to a place called
+Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted out of the wagon and laid
+upon the ground. There were others near me, all lying on the
+ground. In many places the ground was white with snow; the wind cut
+like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock some men
+put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat and
+the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started.
+At twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men
+put me into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital,
+several miles out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the
+morning of the 15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has
+always been a wonder,</p>
+<p>I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the
+middle of the ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide,
+was a big stove, red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of
+people--women-nurses and stewards, and perhaps some convalescing
+patients--singing religious songs. There was a great open space
+between the red-hot stove and the people around it. I wanted to lie
+in that open space.</p>
+<p>I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor
+until I was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped.
+"You'll burn to death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon
+fell asleep.</p>
+<p>For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an
+incident occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man
+in the company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general
+affairs. The army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known
+that fact on the night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General
+Gregg had been killed. The papers that I saw gave me some of the
+details of the battle, but told me nothing of the position of the
+army, except that it was yet near Fredericksburg. I did not know
+where Company H was, and I learned afterward that nobody in Company
+H knew what had become of me.</p>
+<p>The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery
+was slow and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to
+return, I wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end
+of February I had demanded my papers and had started for the army
+yet near Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a
+station called Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine
+or ten miles. I found Company H below Fredericksburg and back from
+the river. Captain Haskell was not with the company. He had been
+ordered on some special duty to South Carolina, and returned to us
+a week later than my arrival. Many of the men--though all of
+twenty-six men could hardly be said to be many--had thought that I
+was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since the battle of
+Fredericksburg.</p>
+<p>When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness
+for so serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee
+had fought at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind
+breastworks--and had lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole
+army had been caused by a mistake of our own officers, who refused
+to allow their men to fire upon a line of Yankees until almost too
+late, believing them to be Confederates. It was through this error
+that General Gregg, for whom the camp of the army was named, had
+lost his life.</p>
+<p>Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed
+variously--some with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards
+rudely riven from the forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and
+picket duty occasionally.</p>
+<p>The remainder of the winter passed without events of great
+importance. Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from
+the Fourth South Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it
+had been reorganized as a battalion, fitted with my description or
+with either of my names. I spent much time in reading the books
+which passed from man to man in the company.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat
+more cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to
+show signs of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April
+the weather became mild. To say that I was content would be to say
+what is untrue, but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I
+knew that I had a friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired
+without reservation, and whose favours were extended to me
+freely--I mean to say personal, not official, favours. The more I
+learned of this high-minded man, the more did the whole world seem
+to me brighter and less deserving of disregard. He was a patriot.
+An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for a principle
+of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal interest
+to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle he
+was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me,
+was considered by him as a high, religious service, which he
+performed ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of
+his demeanour when leading his men in fight. His words were few at
+such times; he was the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of
+rant in action. Others would shout and scream and shriek their
+orders redundant and unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle
+English than all their distended throats. He was merciful and he
+was wise.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days'
+cooked rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a
+moment's notice.</p>
+<p>The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell
+into ranks. We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and
+formed in line of battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The
+enemy was in our front, on our side of the Rappahannock, and we
+learned that he had crossed in strong force up the river also. We
+faced the Yankees here for two days, but did not fire a shot.</p>
+<p>Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up
+the river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our
+front. The sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they
+increased in volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of
+the fight began to die away. The enemy were retiring before our
+advanced troops. Night came on, and we lay on our arms, expecting
+the day to bring battle.</p>
+<p>The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of
+Hooker's army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of
+artillery from which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the
+movement was retreat, and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so;
+but suddenly our march broke off toward the west, and the men could
+not conceal their joy over what they were now beginning to
+understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson was seen riding past
+the marching lines to the head of his column, or halted with his
+staff to see his troops hastening on.</p>
+<p>Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our
+backs were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of
+battle in our front. We moved along the road at supporting
+distance.</p>
+<p>Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the
+roar of the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous
+musketry. There was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us
+had swept on. We followed, still in column of fours upon the road,
+which was almost blocked by a battery of artillery.</p>
+<p>Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right
+was open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a
+breastwork from which the enemy had just been driven, leaving
+wounded and dead, their muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils
+yet upon the fires, blankets, knapsacks--everything.</p>
+<p>We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having
+become intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's
+division now formed the first line of battle.</p>
+<p>It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the
+distance told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again
+went forward. Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were
+halted in the thick woods.</p>
+<p>The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose
+a moon, the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full
+and in a cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two
+armies yet lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here
+and there a gun broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was
+not peace; now and then a film of cannon smoke drifted across the
+moon, which seemed to become piteous then. There was silence in the
+ranks.</p>
+<p>The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about
+nine o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about
+where Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful
+group of men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one
+whom we knew to be some high officer. Jackson had been shot
+dangerously by one of Lane's regiments--the Eighteenth North
+Carolina.</p>
+<p>General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent,
+and the line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once
+there came the noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery,
+and many batteries, and fields and woods were alive with shells and
+canister. More than forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our
+front. We lay and endured the fire. General Hill was wounded, and
+at midnight General Stuart of the cavalry took command of the
+corps. At last the cannon hushed. The terrible night passed away
+without sleep.</p>
+<p>At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under
+command of General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the
+enemy. Our brigade succeeded in getting into the works; but on our
+right the enemy's line still held, and as it curved far to the west
+it had us in flank and rear. A new attack at this moment by the
+troops on our right would have carried the line; the attack was not
+made. We were compelled to abandon the breastworks and run for the
+woods, where we formed again at once.</p>
+<p>And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an
+enfilade fire.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole
+line; the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was
+won.</p>
+<p>Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant
+officer, had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our
+rear.</p>
+<p>We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed,
+and were ready to go forward and push the Federals to the
+Rappahannock, but no orders came. General Lee had just received
+intelligence of the second battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy,
+under Sedgwick, had taken the heights above the town, and were now
+advancing against our right flank. Our division, and perhaps
+others, held the field of Chancellorsville, while troops were
+hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the 4th the
+Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the north
+bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of Hooker's
+army had recrossed the river.</p>
+<p>Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because
+of the enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his
+divisions, was not at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing
+the Federals under Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and
+thirty thousand, while Lee had less than sixty thousand men.</p>
+<p>We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days
+later we learned that the most illustrious man in the South was
+dead. No longer should we follow Stonewall Jackson.</p>
+<p>The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's
+the first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our
+General Gregg had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now
+McGowan's brigade. Our General Jackson had fallen at
+Chancellorsville, and we were now in the corps of A.P. Hill, whose
+promotion placed four brigades of our division under General
+Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks before had been
+addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division, Jackson's
+corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's brigade,
+Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk of
+letters?</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General
+Pender, a battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of
+his division. Two or three men were taken from each, company--from
+the large companies three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had
+five regiments of ten companies each, so that McGowan's battalion
+of sharp-shooters was to be composed of about a hundred and twenty
+men. General McGowan chose Captain Haskell as the commander of the
+battalion. When I heard of this appointment, I went to the Captain
+and begged to go with him. He said, "I had already chosen you,
+Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the battalion was drawn up
+for the first time, orders were read showing the organization of
+the command. There were to be three companies, each under a
+lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the First.
+Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant of
+Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second
+sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then
+it came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.</p>
+<p>After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my
+approach. "You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't
+know the other men, and I do know you."</p>
+<p>I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me,
+and started to go away.</p>
+<p>"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of
+the company?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others
+and say they are good men."</p>
+<p>"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but
+you know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do
+almost all the skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four
+or five men in the battalion out of those companies. It is one
+thing, to be a good soldier in the line and another thing to be a
+good skirmisher."</p>
+<p>"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that
+anybody would prefer being in the battalion."</p>
+<p>"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence
+of mind to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like
+the battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the
+future. The men get their rations and their pay through their
+original companies, but are no longer attached to them otherwise.
+On the march and in battle they will serve as a distinct command,
+and will be exposed to many dangers that the line of battle will
+escape, though the danger, on the whole, will be lessened, I dare
+say, especially for alert men who know how to seize every
+advantage. But the most of the men have not been trained for such
+service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We must begin
+at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."</p>
+<p>"I will do my best, Captain," said I.</p>
+<p>"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some
+writing for me."</p>
+<p>That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was
+prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We
+drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill
+as skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of
+it.</p>
+<p>Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at
+Fredericksburg. Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the
+Shenandoah Valley, and onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery
+Hill. The Federals again crossed the Rappahannock, but in small
+bodies. Their army was on the Falmouth Hills beyond the river.</p>
+<p>On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our
+places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On
+either side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown
+up, and with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a
+fine shaded avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a
+Federal skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.</p>
+<p>Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in
+the low ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods,
+and broom-sedge covered the unwooded space between the opposing
+lines; rarely could a man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch
+and fired above the bank, which formed a natural breastwork. At my
+place, on the left of Company A, a large tree was growing upon the
+bank. I was standing behind this tree; a bullet struck it. The
+firing was very slow--men trying to pick a target. When the bullet
+struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise from behind a bush.
+I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed by me, and I
+saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the tree was
+struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good
+protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it
+gave me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless;
+at any rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain
+on my arm. I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between
+my arm and body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a
+scratch; the ball had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch
+below the armpit and had drawn some blood.</p>
+<p>We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had
+no losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the
+river. While going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of
+talk concerning their first day's experience in the battalion of
+sharp-shooters. They were to undergo other experiences--experiences
+which would cause them to hold their tongues.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2>
+<h3>GLOOM</h3>
+<center>"He was a man, take him all in all,<br>
+I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We
+broke camp on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper;
+Chester Gap, Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we
+forded the Potomac for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown
+at the ford by which we had advanced nine months before in our
+hurried march from Harper's Ferry to Sharpsburg. We passed once
+more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a village called
+Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our division rested
+for three days.</p>
+<p>On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small
+farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at
+cheap prices. Our Confederate money was received with less
+unwillingness than we might have expected. We got onions, cheese,
+and bread--rye-bread. Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted
+milk. Coming back toward camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine
+cows--a boy driving them home from pasture. We halted. Rhodes
+ordered the boy to milk the cows; the boy replied that he could not
+milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held the sergeant's gun, and he
+soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was talking with the
+boy.</p>
+<p>"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"About two months ago," said he.</p>
+<p>"Is he the only brother you have?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"How does he like the army?"</p>
+<p>"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but
+he couldn't."</p>
+<p>"And he doesn't like it now?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had
+to."</p>
+<p>"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the
+Yankee army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."</p>
+<p>I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes
+had intended to pay.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July
+1st found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was
+great, although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and
+unobstructed, as though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do.
+Heth's division led the corps. We descended from a range of high
+hills, having in our front an extensive region dotted over with
+farmhouses and with fertile fields interspersed with groves. The
+march continued; steadily eastward went the corps.</p>
+<p>At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in
+front. We were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right,
+deployed, and the column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving
+as skirmishers parallel with the brigade.</p>
+<p>The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the
+right and went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a
+large low plain to the south. We halted in position, occupying a
+most formidable defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the
+division, and perhaps other divisions, went by into battle, and
+left us on the hill, protecting their flank and rear.</p>
+<p>Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in
+many small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within
+range of our rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our
+rear and left. We could see the smoke of burning houses and see
+shells burst in the air, and could hear the shouts of our men as
+they advanced from one position to another, driving the enemy.</p>
+<p>A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me
+a folded paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this
+note. I fear the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking
+for orders. Be back as quickly as you can."</p>
+<p>My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet
+burning. Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and
+Confederates. In one place behind a stone fence there were many
+blue corpses. The ambulances and infirmary men were busy. In a road
+I saw side by side a Confederate and a Federal. The Confederate was
+on his back; his jacket was open; his shirt showed a great red
+splotch right on his breast. Death must have been
+instantaneous.</p>
+<p>At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much
+farther forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender
+was yet on his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said,
+without looking at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."</p>
+<p>I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw
+Lieutenant Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer
+of the regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were
+wounded. The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy
+behind a stone fence and routed them, and had pursued them through
+the streets of the town and taken many prisoners. Butler and
+Williams had gone into a house foraging, and in the cellar had
+taken a whole company commanded by a lieutenant. Other tales there
+were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone entirely through the town,
+followed by straggling men, and had reached the top of Cemetery
+Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter disorganization,
+and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him to come on;
+but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped. The flag
+of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that of
+any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General
+Reynolds, had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had
+in the early hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the
+brigade had been captured.</p>
+<p>All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to
+give. I hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost
+time. It was not yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the
+second time over the bloody field. I passed again between the
+Confederate and the Federal whom I had seen lying side by side. Our
+man was sitting in the road, and eating hardtack.</p>
+<p>When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I
+told about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating
+hardtack, Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that
+Yankee's haversack!"</p>
+<p>For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At
+ten o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He
+made me sit by him.</p>
+<p>"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the
+other companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."</p>
+<p>"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.</p>
+<p>"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held
+in reserve."</p>
+<p>"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say
+that it was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must
+be observed. Of course, if your company happened to be of average
+number and either of the others was very small, I should take
+Company A instead. But it does not so happen; so the work you have
+done to-day gives Company A a rest--if rest it can be called."</p>
+<p>"But why not take the whole battalion?"</p>
+<p>"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day
+have been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee
+attacks again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one
+defensive battle."</p>
+<p>"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville
+was a great victory--and to-day's battle also."</p>
+<p>"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the
+enemy is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against
+Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have
+stopped on Sunday morning after taking the second line of
+intrenchments. General Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the
+wrong time I dare say. Should he not have pressed Hooker into the
+river before giving attention to Sedgwick<a name=
+"FNanchor8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8">[8]</a>?"</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor8">[8]</a>
+Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was
+impregnable to any attack the Confederates were then able to make.
+Hooker himself, as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to
+attack. Lee's march against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the
+right movement. See the Comte de Paris, <i>in loc</i>.
+[ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>"Then you believe in attacking," said I.</p>
+<p>"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has
+been that we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we
+refuse to trouble them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you
+say, Chancellorsville was a great victory; anything that would have
+sent Hooker's army back over the river, even without a battle,
+would have been success. But speaking from a military view, I dare
+say it was a false movement to divide our forces as we did there.
+We succeeded because our opponents allowed us to succeed. It was in
+Hooker's power on Saturday to crush either Jackson or McLaws. Yet,
+as you suggest, General Lee was compelled to take great risks; no
+matter what he should do, his position seemed well-nigh desperate,
+and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on Sunday morning,
+before the action began, if General Lee had only known the exact
+condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would in
+the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have
+assaulted Hooker's works."</p>
+<p>"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.</p>
+<p>"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march
+against Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated.
+We had enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first
+Manassas, when Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won
+the battle by the steady conduct of a few regiments who held the
+enemy until Johnston's men came up. Of course I am not making any
+comparison between Generals Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and
+Chancellorsville are past, and observe, sir, what a loss we have
+had to-day. I dare say the enemy's loss is heavier, but he can
+stand losses here, and we cannot; another day or two like to-day,
+and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the enemy for a mile or
+so until it occupies a stronger position than before, is not--you
+will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which, the Confederacy
+began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He will
+attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot
+destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get
+any re&euml;nforcement. Indeed, Jones, I do not see how we can be
+re&euml;nforced at all--so far from our base, and the enemy so
+powerful to prevent it."</p>
+<p>"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"</p>
+<p>"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger
+every day, while we should become weaker. The enemy would not
+attack until we should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass
+our retreat and endeavour to bring us to battle."</p>
+<p>"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"</p>
+<p>"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we
+shall be losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not
+absurd for a small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation
+in the face of more powerful armies? If we had arms which the
+Federals could not match, we should find it easy to conquer a peace
+on this field. But their equipment is superior to ours. The
+campaign is wrong. If inactivity could not have been tolerated, we
+should have re&euml;nforced General Bragg and regained our own
+country instead of running our heads against this wall up here.
+But, do you not agree with, me that inactivity would have been
+best? Hooker's army would not have stirred this summer until too
+late for any important campaign. The year would have closed with
+Virginia secure and with great recuperation to all our eastern
+states. Our army would have been swelled by the return of our
+wounded and sick, without any losses to offset our increase. As it
+is, our losses are going to be difficult if not impossible to make
+up. I fear that Lee's army will never be as strong hereafter as it
+is to-night."</p>
+<p>"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"</p>
+<p>"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that.
+Look at the victories of this war. They have been claimed by both
+aides--many of them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort
+Donelson, where has there been a great victory?"</p>
+<p>"The Chickahominy," said I.</p>
+<p>"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the
+Federals, and McClellan escaped us."</p>
+<p>"Second Manassas."</p>
+<p>"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped
+on the second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now
+on that hill."</p>
+<p>"Fredericksburg."</p>
+<p>"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been
+allowed to get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the
+effect that Jackson was strongly in favour of a night attack upon
+the Federals huddled up on our side of the river?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital.
+You know I was not in the battle."</p>
+<p>"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished
+to throw his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the
+men were to wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that
+they might recognize each other."</p>
+<p>"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"</p>
+<p>"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals
+into the river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."</p>
+<p>"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's
+army?"</p>
+<p>"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside
+to get away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too
+merciful, and that he is restrained because we are killing our own
+people. If Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee
+might have listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have
+been balanced in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been
+killing Frenchmen, I dare say he would have had more fight in him
+on the 18th of September. After all that we read in the newspapers,
+Jones, about the vandalism practised in this war, yet this war is,
+I dare say, the least inhumane that ever was waged. I don't think
+our men hate the men on the other side."</p>
+<p>"I don't," said I.</p>
+<p>"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too
+unfortunate as to opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not
+destroyed; they get away; when we gain a field, it is only the
+moral effect that remains with us. War is different from the old
+wars. The only thorough defeats are surrenders. It would take days
+for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's at long range, even if Meade
+should stand and do nothing. We may defeat Meade,--I don't see why
+we should not,--but in less than a week we should be compelled to
+fight him again, and we should be weaker and he would be stronger
+than before."</p>
+<p>"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed
+whole armies."</p>
+<p>"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In
+Caesar's wars, for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical
+strength and endurance were the qualities that prevailed. The men
+became exhausted backing away or slinging away at each other. In
+such a condition a regiment of cavalry is turned loose on a broad
+plain against a division unable to flee, and one horseman puts a
+company to death; all he has to do is to cut and thrust."</p>
+<p>"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we
+could get re&euml;nforcements," I said.</p>
+<p>"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get
+twenty."</p>
+<p>"We could retire after victory," I said.</p>
+<p>"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know
+that he is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know
+that he is quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to
+me that his reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say
+his wonderful ability as an engineer accounts for it."</p>
+<p>"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France
+recognize us?"</p>
+<p>"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that?
+Ever since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of
+European recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon
+gone."</p>
+<p>"What was it, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by
+emancipating the slaves gradually."</p>
+<p>"Was that seriously thought of?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the
+main. We do not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked
+out that there was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether
+any vote was ever had I do not know; I dare say those in favour of
+the measure found they were not strong enough, and thought best not
+to press it."</p>
+<p>"What effect would such a course have had?"</p>
+<p>"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have
+recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a
+measure. In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would
+have been laid at rest. The North would have been eager to
+conciliate the South, and it would have become possible to
+reconstruct the Union with clear definitions of the sovereignty of
+the States."</p>
+<p>"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a
+gradual emancipation."</p>
+<p>"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in
+fact, there is great justification for it. It is too universal,
+however. It does not give enough opportunity for a slave to
+develop, and to make a future for himself. Still, we have some
+grand men among the slaves. Many of them would suffer death for the
+interest of their masters' families. Then, too, we have in the
+South a type unknown in the rest of the world since feudalism: we
+have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana, reproductions of
+the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The general
+condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an
+inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small
+share in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a
+slave at home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented.
+Witness his docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children
+while his masters are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds.
+Such conduct deserves recognition. I would say that a system of
+rewards should be planned by which a worthy negro, ambitious to
+become free, could by meritorious conduct achieve his freedom. But
+this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It is good for nobody. A race
+of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of infants with the
+physical force of men. What would become of them? Suppose the North
+should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies disbanded, and the
+States back in the Union or held as territories. Has anybody the
+least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the new
+dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the
+beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and
+would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro
+offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine.
+The result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would
+be far worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies
+should indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that
+our own people should be driven out and our lands given to the
+slaves--what would become of them? We know their character. They
+look not one day ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence,
+anarchy. And the worst men of the race would hold the rest in
+terror. Immorality would be at a premium, sir. The race would lose
+what it had gained. But, on the other hand, put into practice a
+plan for gradual freedom based on good conduct; you would see
+whites and blacks living in peace. The negro would begin to
+improve, and the white people would help him. It would not be long
+before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom, not race
+freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be great
+striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected thereby
+from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so done
+we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden
+emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout
+her dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she
+pays the owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a
+mistake for the Southern colonies, for South Carolina
+especially."</p>
+<p>"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."</p>
+<p>"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts
+had. Our best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied
+to the best of the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our
+trade with the mother country was profitable, and our products were
+favoured by bounties. We had no connection, with the French and
+Indian wars which had given rise to so much trouble between Great
+Britain and New England. But our people thought it would be base to
+desert the cause of Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the
+main reason that caused South Carolina to throw in her lot with
+that of our Northern colonies. See what we get for it. We renounce
+our profitable commerce with England, and we help our sister
+colonies; just so soon as their profitable commerce with us is
+threatened by our withdrawal, they maintain it by putting us to
+death. It is their nature, sir. They live by trade. If they
+continue to increase in power, they will hold the West in
+commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever
+reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of
+trade."</p>
+<p>"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"</p>
+<p>"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New
+England suffered very little. New York suffered; so did
+Pennsylvania and New Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South
+Carolina, which was in reality no more than a conquered province
+for years, and yet held faithful to the cause of the colonies. And
+it was the eventual success of the Southern arms that caused the
+surrender of Cornwallis. The North is very ungrateful to us."</p>
+<p>"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should
+have been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.</p>
+<p>"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would
+have been freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them.
+England and America could have controlled the world in peace; but
+here we are, diligently engaged in killing one another."</p>
+<p>"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever
+before."</p>
+<p>"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I
+have hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."</p>
+<p>"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.</p>
+<p>"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to
+retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from
+the situation,--but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be
+disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."</p>
+<p>"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"</p>
+<p>"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and
+have losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and
+those of us who are able to march shall see Virginia again."</p>
+<p>"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded
+here?"</p>
+<p>"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this
+war is truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to
+the common soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in
+slaves, give their lives for independence--the independence of
+their States. Yet it is useless to grieve in anticipation."</p>
+<p>"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said
+I; "at least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in
+battle to death by disease."</p>
+<p>"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.</p>
+<blockquote>"'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;The appointed and the unappointed day;<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;Nor thee, on the second, the Universe
+slay.'"</blockquote>
+<p>"Who is that, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."</p>
+<p>"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."</p>
+<p>"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"</p>
+<p>"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"</p>
+<p>"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems
+not unfamiliar. Is he living?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of
+your old personal friends?"</p>
+<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back
+somewhere."</p>
+<p>"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."</p>
+<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name
+that strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."</p>
+<p>"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."</p>
+<p>"In what sense, Captain?"</p>
+<p>"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East
+is fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is
+inconsistent."</p>
+<p>"But you are not a fatalist."</p>
+<p>"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the
+ends that we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is
+blocked out in the large for us by powers over which we can have no
+control, but that within certain limits we do the shaping of our
+own lives."</p>
+<p>"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will
+be done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world
+does one battle, more or fewer, have?"</p>
+<p>"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the
+result is nothing; but every event is important to some life."</p>
+<p>"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over
+yonder, and that we could have occupied it but that our men were
+recalled."</p>
+<p>"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy
+would only have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging
+at this moment."</p>
+<p>Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to
+do your full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more
+we have to do, the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must
+collect all our energies, and each man must do the work of two.
+Impress the men strongly with the necessity for courage and
+endurance."</p>
+<p>The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain
+good night.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the
+brigade, which was in line a little to the south of the Seminary.
+The sun shone hot. The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery
+roared at our left and far to our right. At times shells came over
+us. A caisson near by exploded. In the afternoon a great battle was
+raging some two miles to our right. Longstreet's corps had gone
+in.</p>
+<p>At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On
+the litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men
+gathered around. Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of
+them approached the litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men
+came slowly back--one at a time--grim.</p>
+<p>I asked who it was that had been killed.</p>
+<p>"Captain Haskell," they said.</p>
+<p>My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell?
+Our Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I
+now knew that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable.
+He had passed through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to
+so many deaths that had refused to demand him, had so freely
+offered his life, had been so calm and yet so valiant in battle,
+had been so worshipped by all the left wing of the regiment and by
+the battalion, had been so wise in council and so forceful in the
+field, had, in fine, been one of those we instinctively feel are
+heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could not be! There must
+be some mistake!</p>
+<p>But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw
+Sergeant Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke
+down utterly.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXII"></a>XXXII</h2>
+<h3>NIGHT</h3>
+<center>"From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,<br>
+The hum of either army stilly sounds,<br>
+That the fixed sentinels almost receive<br>
+The secret whispers of each other's watch."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was
+ordered forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down
+the hill in front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with
+cannon and intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was
+alive with skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we
+advanced. Down our hill and into the hollow; there the fire
+increased and we lay flat on the ground. Our skirmish-line was some
+two or three hundred yards in front of us, in the wheat on the
+slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.</p>
+<p>Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the
+wheat; what for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know<a name=
+"FNanchor9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9">[9]</a>. It was Ramseur's
+brigade of Rodes's division.</p>
+<blockquote><a name="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor9">[9]</a>
+Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at
+the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill.
+[ED.]</blockquote>
+<p>Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the
+left guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought
+it likely that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into
+its ranks.</p>
+<p>Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the
+wheat. We could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing
+and shouting; they charged the Federal army. What was expected of
+them? It seemed absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many
+rifles could be seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down
+the hill, helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us,
+and went back toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.</p>
+<p>It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets
+of the next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket
+in these parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had
+remained and must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.</p>
+<p>Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a
+circuit to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned
+and passed word down the line to the lieutenant in command of
+Company A that I wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I
+explained the trouble. The lieutenant did not know what to do. This
+gentleman was a valuable officer in the line, but was out of place
+in the battalion. He asked me what ought to be done. I replied that
+we must not fail to connect, else there would be a gap in the line,
+and how wide a gap nobody could tell. If I had known then what I
+know now, I should have told him to report the condition to Colonel
+Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but I did otherwise; I
+told him that if he would remain on the left, I would hunt for the
+picket-line. He consented.</p>
+<p>I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and
+searched a long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of
+Company A and proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for
+our pickets. The lieutenant approved.</p>
+<p>The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front.
+I moved slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon,
+over which bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be
+hidden I went forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and
+looked. Here and there in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns,
+and many signs of battle. The wheat had been trodden down.</p>
+<p>Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of
+the battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in
+most places untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see
+our own men. I went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right
+I saw a fence, or rather a line of bushes and briers which had
+grown up where a fence had been in years past. This fence-row
+stretched straight up the hill toward the cemetery. I went to it.
+It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the shelter of this
+friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was now in
+front of Company A's right.</p>
+<p>The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards
+in advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and
+crawled along the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant
+pausing and looking. I reached a denser and taller clump of bushes,
+and raised myself to my full height. In front were black spots in
+the wheat--five paces apart--- a picket-line--whose?</p>
+<p>The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat
+with the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back,
+lest the metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in
+front of me, and on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to
+stretch across the front of the whole battalion. If that was our
+picket, why should there be another in rear of it? They must be
+Yankees.</p>
+<p>I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The
+line was perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men
+nearer to me,--officers, or men going and returning in its
+rear,--but the line seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not
+seem tall enough for standing men. No doubt they were sitting in
+the wheat with their guns in their laps. I heard no word--not a
+sound except the noises coming from the crest of the hill beyond
+them, where was the Federal line of battle. I looked back. Seminary
+Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun, picked it up,
+rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no longer see
+the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my right in
+order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had not
+budged.</p>
+<p>I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt
+almost sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We
+ought to have sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why
+we did not, I do not know, unless it was that we felt it our duty
+to solve the difficulty ourselves. The left of the battalion was
+unprotected; this would not do. Something must be done.</p>
+<p>I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals
+to ten paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The
+left platoon extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from
+centre to left. This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap.
+Still no pickets could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left
+and returned.</p>
+<p>Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the
+left until something was found. He would have filled the interval,
+even had it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps
+apart, at least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General
+Pender. Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to
+the right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent
+word to him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was
+growing. How wide was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other
+side of this gap search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a
+brigade or more might creep through the gap; still the lieutenant
+did not propose anything.</p>
+<p>At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked
+like a Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that
+I thought I could get nearer to it than I had been before, and
+speak to the men without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun
+to fear sarcasm. What if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line
+of gray pickets in our front? Should I ever hear the last of
+it?</p>
+<p>Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of
+anything. He was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had
+proposed an advance of Company A up the hill, he would have
+approved, and would have led the advance.</p>
+<p>The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the
+place where I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther.
+Again the thought came that there would have been some
+communicating between that line and ours if that were Confederate.
+If they were our men, we had been in their rear for three hours.
+Impossible to suppose that nobody in that time should have come
+back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line, and I was in its
+front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they had a man
+or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could be
+no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my
+progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not
+less black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre
+night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were,
+they felt strongly the presence of the enemy.</p>
+<p>Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a
+gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along
+which I was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed.
+There had once been a gate hanging to that post and closing against
+another post now concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would
+crawl to that post out there, and speak to the men in front. They
+would suppose that I was in the fence-row, and, if they fired,
+would shoot into the bushes, while I should be safe behind the
+post--such was my thought.</p>
+<p>I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak,
+I thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The
+black spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front.
+The line stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the
+left--through the fence-row.</p>
+<p>It was not necessary to speak very loud.</p>
+<p>I asked, "Whose picket is that?"</p>
+<p>My voice sounded strangely tremulous.</p>
+<p>There was no answer.</p>
+<p>If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would
+be no sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said,
+"Come up and see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see
+that the black spots had become large objects; the moon was
+shining.</p>
+<p>I must ask again.</p>
+<p>I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead
+that day.</p>
+<p>I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>No answer.</p>
+<p>Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina
+brigade?"</p>
+<p>Not a word.</p>
+<p>It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men?
+Certainly Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two
+or three men might rush forward and seize me before I could get to
+my feet. Yet, would not a line of our men out here be silent? They
+would be very near the enemy and would be very silent. But they
+would send a man back to make me stop talking. They were Yankees;
+but why did they not say something? or do something? Perhaps they
+were in doubt about me. I was so near their lines they could hardly
+believe me a Confederate. I half decided to slip away at once.</p>
+<p>But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy
+the lieutenant and myself also.</p>
+<p>Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that
+is?"</p>
+<p>A voice replied, "Our brigade!"</p>
+<p>This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had
+heard it frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for
+troops to pass, you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and
+some-would-be wag would say, "Our regiment."</p>
+<p>I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly.
+Before I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees
+also had this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees
+selected one man to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to
+preserve silence, and was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A
+man perhaps who knew something of the sayings in the Southern
+army?</p>
+<p>Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud,
+"What army do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"</p>
+<p>I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word
+"you."</p>
+<p>Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out
+in front and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did
+they not bid me come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very
+likely they thought I was trying to desert, and feeling my way
+through fear of falling into the hands of the wrong people.</p>
+<p>I replied at once, "I am a rebel."</p>
+<p>What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know,
+unless it was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe,
+being in their rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at
+once accept the challenge. I wanted to end the matter.</p>
+<p>They accepted.</p>
+<p>A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen
+rifles cracked.</p>
+<p>They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but
+then, no bullet can be heard at such a nearness.</p>
+<p>I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to
+rise and run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could
+manage better. I would remain quiet until they should think I had
+gone. Then I would crawl away.</p>
+<p>Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start.
+Suddenly a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the
+fence-row. A Yankee had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary
+pitch, but very gruffly, "Who <i>are</i> you, anyhow?"</p>
+<p>If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones.
+It was my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to
+come, but the next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how
+many I was, and I stuck fast.</p>
+<p>I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back
+and reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate
+front.</p>
+<p>Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking
+back to our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had
+been warned that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from
+firing on me. They had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets
+had whistled over them, and they had thought me a prisoner, so when
+they saw a man coming toward them they were itching to shoot.</p>
+<p>We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the
+skirmish-line at the left of Pender's division.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII</h2>
+<h3>HELL</h3>
+<center>"Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;<br>
+Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,<br>
+Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as
+the sun was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced.
+Down the hill they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a
+countercharge, and the battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were
+almost intermixed with them before they ran. And now our lieutenant
+of Company A showed his mettle. He sprang before his company, sword
+in his left hand and revolver in the other, and led the fight,
+rushing right up the hill, and, when near enough, firing every
+barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both lines settled
+back to their first positions.</p>
+<p>We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the
+rear to carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four
+men lifted the stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled
+heavily to the ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot,
+leaving but two; they raised their stretcher in the air and moved
+it about violently. The Yankees ceased firing.</p>
+<p>The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly
+work ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails,
+covered with wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon
+appeared along the line. The protection was slight, yet by lying
+flat our bodies could not be seen. On their side the Yankee
+skirmishers also had worked, and were now behind low heaps of rails
+and earth. Practice-shooting began, and was kept up without
+intermission for hour after hour.</p>
+<p>We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the
+men to be sparing with water.</p>
+<p>From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the
+Seminary--could see through the cupola from one window to the
+other. The Seminary was General Lee's headquarters.</p>
+<p>To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn.
+Captain Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn.
+It was five hundred yards from the pits of Company A.</p>
+<p>The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond
+the right of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced
+from the Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn.
+They began to enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we
+were engaged in front.</p>
+<p>A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down
+the line for me to take his place at the right of the company.</p>
+<p>Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in
+Company A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.</p>
+<p>We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right
+oblique five hundred yards.</p>
+<p>We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two
+hundred yards.</p>
+<p>A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see
+him loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his
+shoulder. I took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I
+thought of the Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any
+hatred of him? And the answer came: No; I am fighting for life and
+liberty; I hate nobody. I fired, and saw the man no more.</p>
+<p>Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy
+recovered it.</p>
+<p>Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line
+of battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our
+losses were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until
+past midday, and there was no sign of an ending.</p>
+<p>At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then
+the devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the
+air was full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal
+batteries answering doubled the din and made the valley and its
+slopes a hell of hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went
+far over our heads; we were much nearer to the Federal artillery
+than to our own. Some of our shells, perhaps from defective powder,
+fell amongst us; some would burst in mid air, and the fragments
+would hurtle down. The skirmishing ceased--in an ocean one drop
+more is naught.</p>
+<p>I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with
+his hat over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were
+unrelieved. The men were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained,
+haggard, battle-worn, and stern. Still shrieked the shells
+overhead, and yet roared the guns to front and rear--a pandemonium
+of sight and sound reserved from the foundation of the world for
+the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun went out in smoke. The
+smell of burning powder filled the land. Before us and behind us
+bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of this awful
+picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its
+foreground the peaceful city of the dead.</p>
+<p>For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth
+and sky; then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness
+was but brief. Out from our rear and right now marched the
+Confederate infantry on to destruction.</p>
+<p>We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men
+stand, regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than
+eighteen hours we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope.
+We knew that our line, marching out for attack, could not even
+reach the enemy. Before it could come within charging distance it
+would be beaten to pieces by artillery. The men looked at the
+advancing line and said one to another, "Lee has made a
+mistake."</p>
+<p>The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary
+Ridge.</p>
+<p>The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the
+valley and up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front
+and right,--and far to the right,--pumping death into its
+ranks.</p>
+<p>I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words
+concerning General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military
+man; I knew nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had
+knelled the doom of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone
+fences the flower of the Army of the Potomac protected by two
+hundred guns. It was simply insane. It was not war, neither was it
+magnificent; it was too absurd to be grand.</p>
+<p>Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the
+skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the
+spot where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was
+already in tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all
+described Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line
+came on like troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too
+gallant; but there was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on
+Seminary Ridge were looking at Pickett's division from its rear;
+the blue men were looking upon it from its front; from neither
+position could the alignment be seen; to them it looked straight
+and fine; but that line passed by me so that I looked along it, and
+I know that it was swayed and bent long before it fired a shot. As
+it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty, forty, even
+fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men for
+this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry,
+but for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and
+left, a semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed
+the ground with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an
+iron tempest such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at
+Gettysburg--- a tempest in which no army on earth could live.</p>
+<p>I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came
+under the fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged,
+because the gaps could not be filled as fast as they were made; but
+the fragments kept on up the hill, uniting as they went.</p>
+<p>And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the
+sound, that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their
+battle. Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking;
+the thunder of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and
+our men--those that are left, but not the line--still go
+forward.</p>
+<p>Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right
+swarm out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his
+front still stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men
+live to pass.</p>
+<p>Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere
+have long ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch
+the struggle for the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where
+a few trees stand, smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and
+fate are working as they never worked. Lines of infantry from
+either flank move toward the whirlpool. They close upon the
+smoke.</p>
+<p>Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running
+half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the
+hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become
+prisoners.</p>
+<p>A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their
+right and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of
+Confederates advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The
+battle of Gettysburg is over.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIV"></a>XXXIV</h2>
+<h3>FALLING-WATERS</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"Prepare you, generals:<br>
+The enemy comes on in gallant show;<br>
+Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,<br>
+And something to be done immediately."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division
+leading. Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The
+slow retreat continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown
+we formed line of battle.</p>
+<p>The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers
+advanced against us. We held our own, but lost some men.</p>
+<p>The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits
+made of fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and
+ate the grain uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but
+with little success. There was great suffering from hunger.</p>
+<p>For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown,
+skirmishing every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded
+the battalion. We were told that the Potomac was at a high stage,
+and that we must wait until a pontoon bridge could be laid.</p>
+<p>At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters
+received orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then
+to retire. The division was withdrawing and depended upon us to
+prevent the advance of the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet
+to the skin and almost exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and
+watching.</p>
+<p>At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone.
+We followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was
+deep; the army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten
+miles. After sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then,
+behind us. We supposed that the enemy's advance was firing on our
+stragglers as they would try to get away. The march was very
+difficult, because of the mud and mainly because of our
+exhaustion.</p>
+<p>We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile
+away. It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we
+could see a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and
+wagons--some filing slowly away to the south, others standing in
+well-ordered ranks. On some prominent hills batteries had been
+planted. It was a great sight. The sun was shining on this display.
+Lee's army had effected a crossing.</p>
+<p>On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At
+the river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with
+stacked arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to
+cross; for there was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was
+yet passing, and it would take hours for all to cross.</p>
+<p>We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men
+to decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped
+on the ground, to rest and sleep.</p>
+<p>The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all
+around me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired,
+with his gun at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men
+on horses were amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with
+pistols which they were firing. Our men were scattering, not in
+flight, but to deploy.</p>
+<p>A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He
+was standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed
+and fired. He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up
+and went headforemost to the ground.</p>
+<p>The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who
+had ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance
+squadron. More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty
+yards long, covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to
+allow the enemy to see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted
+troops at the head of the bridge. The numbers of the Federals
+constantly increased. They outflanked us on our right. They
+dismounted and deployed as skirmishers. They advanced, and the
+fighting began.</p>
+<p>Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines,
+and the berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired.
+I never saw so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over
+us and amongst us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw
+hat that I had swapped for with one of the men; where he had got
+it, I don't know. My hat was a target. I took it off.</p>
+<p>The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From
+the division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us.
+The regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy
+still increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we
+had a skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force
+ready to strengthen any weak part of the line.</p>
+<p>The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line
+was re&euml;stablished. They got around our right and a few of them
+got into our rear. One of them rode up to Peagler of Company H, an
+unarmed infirmary man; he brandished his sword and ordered Peagler
+to surrender. Peagler picked up a fence-rail and struck the rider
+from his horse.</p>
+<p>Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house,
+firing from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their
+flanks and rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the
+house, and the company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded,
+who, however, got away.</p>
+<p>General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had
+already lasted three hours and threatened to continue.</p>
+<p>At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing
+numbers of the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again,
+we could see that the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops
+were on the south side of the river. On the bridge were only a few
+straggling men running across.</p>
+<p>And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its
+crest was occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they
+began busily to pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat
+in my hand.</p>
+<p>We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to
+throw shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion
+flanked to the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong
+across, with Yankee bullets splashing the water to the right and
+left; meanwhile our batteries continued to throw shells over our
+heads, and Federal guns, now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were
+answering with spirit.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXV"></a>XXXV</h2>
+<h3>AWAKENINGS</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;"'Tis
+far off;<br>
+And rather like a dream than an assurance<br>
+That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling
+Waters, the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We
+marched a mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At
+night we received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.</p>
+<p>On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out.
+Starvation and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered
+greatly, not from fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of
+ranks, went fifty yards into the thicket, and lay down under a
+tree.</p>
+<p>That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared.
+I shrank from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing
+it.</p>
+<p>My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard
+of the surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of
+demoralization had touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg;
+but now men talked despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed
+hopeless.</p>
+<p>Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had
+gone on. What interest had they in me or I in them? I had
+fever.</p>
+<p>The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the
+thicket. A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of
+fifty thousand; they have gone on.</p>
+<p>Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not
+whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My
+Captain has gone.</p>
+<p>Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.</p>
+<p>At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The
+life I live is too difficult.</p>
+<p>And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The
+Captain has not died too soon.</p>
+<p>What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him.
+I shall never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt;
+I am still enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ...
+into what? What does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying
+here? Can he put thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am?
+What does he think now of slavery? of State rights? of war?</p>
+<p>He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is
+better. He is at peace. Would I also were at peace.</p>
+<p>I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to
+the road, fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor
+Federal was in sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at
+Bunker Hill.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were
+approaching Culpeper.</p>
+<p>During the months of August and September we were in camp near
+Orange Court-House.</p>
+<p>My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I
+should have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had
+so greatly suffered because of the Captain's death.</p>
+<p>My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no
+purpose. To fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I
+had no relish for fighting. Fighting was absurd.</p>
+<p>The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he
+imagined General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great
+reluctance in giving orders that would result in the death of
+Americans at the hands of Americans. I remembered that at
+Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the trigger, I had found no
+hatred in me toward the man I was trying to kill. I wondered if the
+men generally were without hate. I believed they were; there might
+be exceptions.</p>
+<p>We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's
+division. We had camp guard and picket duty.</p>
+<p>Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had
+been dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was
+monotonous. Some conscripts were received into each company. Many
+of the old men would never return to us. Some were lying with two
+inches of earth above their breasts; some were in the distant South
+on crutches they must always use.</p>
+<p>The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious.
+Captain Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.</p>
+<p>I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I
+made an object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy.
+Where had there ever been such an experience? I thought of myself
+as Berwick, and pitied him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him
+<i>you</i>.</p>
+<p>Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had
+been promoted, and was elsewhere.</p>
+<p>At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many
+successive nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the
+"me" that I saw as a different person from the "me" that saw.</p>
+<p>My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the
+surgeon.</p>
+<p>Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long
+ago given me up for dead.</p>
+<p>Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My
+mind was filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How
+I ever began to think of such, a possibility I could not know.</p>
+<p>My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and
+powerful and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the
+strong likelihood was that it was neither, but was of medium
+worth.</p>
+<p>My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman,
+young and sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who
+was she? Was she all fancy?</p>
+<p>Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman
+except the nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in
+Richmond and elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the
+face of my dream. None seemed it's equal in sweetness and
+dignity.</p>
+<p>I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the
+men. I had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel,
+and as the lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.</p>
+<p>No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history
+of myself that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but
+one--Jerry Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was
+a great forager, and kept us both in food. The rations were almost
+regular, but the fat bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The
+other men were in good health, and ate heartily of the coarse food
+given them. Butler had bacon and meal to sell.</p>
+<p>The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did
+not exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not
+decide to say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell
+him all I knew. He would have thought me insane.</p>
+<p>I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket
+regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner
+self.</p>
+<p>At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would
+recur to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my
+original regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time
+in which to ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if
+ever I got the smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and
+there to never let it go.</p>
+<p>Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be
+gone before I could define them. They left no result but
+doubt--sometimes fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset
+me--not of this war, but war. I had a vague notion that in some
+hazy past I had listened to strong reasons against war. Were they
+from the Captain? No; he had been against war, but he had fought
+for the South with relish--they did not come from him. None the
+less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they more strongly
+impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from some one
+who not only gave precept but also lived example.</p>
+<p>Who was he? I might not hope to know.</p>
+<p>Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at
+times strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men
+were good men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said
+against them; but I felt that I was not entirely of them, that they
+had little thought beyond their personal duties, which they were
+willing always to do provided their officers clearly prescribed
+them, and their personal attachments, in which I could have no
+part. Of course there were exceptions.</p>
+<p>I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had
+a certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet
+an incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not
+mere pity. The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company
+H. A lieutenant was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate
+was our highest non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the
+company's commander. The officer in command did not, however, use
+influence upon the men to secure votes. My preference for the
+position was Louis Bellot, who had been dangerously wounded at
+Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon return to the company. I
+took up his cause, and, without his knowledge, secured enough votes
+to elect him.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a
+miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was
+failing. Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts
+of this war. It was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason
+told me that the invaders should be driven back. The South had not
+been guilty of plunging the two countries into war; the South had
+tried to avert war. The only serious question which my mind could
+raise upon the conduct of the South was: Had we sufficiently tried
+to avert war? Had we done all that we could? I did not know, and I
+doubted.</p>
+<p>As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon
+marching on to battle, and I thought of all this immense
+preparation for wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with
+horror in my heart. Why could not this war have been avoided? I did
+not know, but I felt that an overwhelming responsibility attached
+somewhere, for it was not likely that all possibilities of peace
+had been exhausted by our people.</p>
+<p>As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes
+and their responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with
+them; but I was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine,
+and upon me also weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust
+upon our side.</p>
+<p>The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me
+the cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong.
+I looked in the faces of the officers and men around me and read
+patient endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at
+myself and said, Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious;
+go to the doctor and get well of your fancies.</p>
+<p>Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the
+Federal soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of
+men are they? They must believe they are right. And one side or the
+other must be wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are
+millions. Millions of men are joined together to perpetrate wrong
+while believing that they are right? Can such a condition be?</p>
+<p>Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other
+men in whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of
+either side impure?</p>
+<p>No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may
+differ conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.</p>
+<p>Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is
+wrong in warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for?
+For union and for abolition of slavery; but primarily for
+union.</p>
+<p>And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.</p>
+<p>What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for
+slavery; but principally for State rights.</p>
+<p>And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily
+wrong.</p>
+<p>Then, may both North, and South be right?</p>
+<p>The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where?
+Not in the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had
+to confess failure. The result of my thought was only the
+suggestion that both of two seemingly opposite thoughts might
+possibly be true.</p>
+<p>On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a
+city, where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and
+at whose house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon
+my mind that when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the
+9th, while we were crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march
+through Madison Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of
+the face of my dream. I thought of little else. Food was repugnant.
+I had fever, and was full of fancies. I was surprised by the
+thought that I had twice already been ill in the army. Once was at
+the time of the battle of Fredericksburg; but when and where was
+the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I had been sick in
+the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and before I
+ever saw Dr. Frost.</p>
+<p>Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result.
+Suddenly I connected the face of my dream with my forgotten
+illness. But that was all. My old tutor was a doctor and had
+attended me. I felt sure of so much.</p>
+<p>Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name.
+Some name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr.
+Some-one I had no doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the
+face of my dream, but it would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr.
+Frost had never been my teacher.</p>
+<p>We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north
+of Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not
+unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near
+by, the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect
+of this farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when
+alone I hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous
+march around Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the
+Shenandoah Valley after Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our
+retreat from Pennsylvania.</p>
+<p>What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in
+the camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as
+yet uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We
+might be advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to
+Meade's rear, just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two;
+another day might show. The most of the men believed that we were
+on a flank march similar to Jackson's, and some of them went so far
+as to say that both Ewell's and Hills corps were now near Madison
+Court-House.</p>
+<p>I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was
+upon myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me,
+but lay apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is
+true, reverted to the situation of the army, but only for a moment.
+Something was about to be done; but if I could have controlled
+events, I would not have known what to choose. One thing, however,
+began to loom clear through the dim future: if we were working to
+get to Meade's rear, that general was in far greater danger than he
+had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at Manassas Junction, between
+Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac would yield from
+starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there was no army
+to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.</p>
+<p>The night brought no movement.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXVI"></a>XXXVI</h2>
+<h3>THE ALPHABET</h3>
+<center>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+"I stoop not to despair;<br>
+For I have battled with mine agony,<br>
+And made me wings wherewith to overfly<br>
+The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.</center>
+<br>
+<p>On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I
+recognized the place; I had straggled through it on the road to
+Gettysburg. Again we went into bivouac early.</p>
+<p>That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to
+any clew I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I
+wondered how I could make a step toward an end.</p>
+<p>To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said
+will was required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of
+thinking all names that I could recall. My list was limited.
+Naturally my mind went over the roll of Company H, which, from
+having heard so often, I knew by heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so
+on; the work brought an idea. I remembered hearing some one say
+that a forgotten name might be recovered with the systematic use of
+the alphabet. I wondered why I had not thought at once of this. I
+felt a great sense of relief. I now had a purpose and a plan.</p>
+<p>At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could
+get was Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built
+upon the letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might
+be one of these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to
+rely upon except the hope that the real name, when found, would
+kindle at its touch a spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were
+exhausted--nothing.</p>
+<p>Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in
+nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether
+the sound awoke any response in my brain.</p>
+<p>I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I
+stored it up for future examination.</p>
+<p>Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I
+separated into two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and
+hard. This examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of
+hard C.</p>
+<p>H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.</p>
+<p>The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.</p>
+<p>L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.</p>
+<p>At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve,
+but not to give it equal rank with the others.</p>
+<p>Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u,
+and rejected all.</p>
+<p>The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.</p>
+<p>In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C
+hard, G hard, and K, with P a possibility.</p>
+<p>It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active,
+though I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it
+had been for days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on
+track of discovery. It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to
+get where I was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would
+likely take me hours more to advance a single step farther.</p>
+<p>A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very
+unusual name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen
+written, except as the name of this Doctor? This thought included
+other thoughts--one was the idea of a written name. I had been
+following but one line of approach, while there were two,--sound
+and form. I had not considered the written approach, but now I saw
+the importance of that process. Another thought was, whether it
+would help me for the name to be not merely unusual, but entirely
+unknown. I could not decide this question. I saw reasons for and
+against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except as applied to
+the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to roll
+names and names through my brain for years without result, if my
+brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an
+old man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted
+another, wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in
+hunting a word impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and
+put it to sleep. The uncommon name would cause me to reject all
+common names, perhaps at first presentation; my attention would be
+concentrated on peculiar sounds and forms. If my mind were now in
+condition to respond to the name, I might get it very soon.</p>
+<p>In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my
+objective, for I sank to sleep.</p>
+<p>At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the
+night's work. I wrote as follows:--</p>
+<p>C G K.... P</p>
+<p>Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that
+impressed me. I had C without any following.</p>
+<p>For G, I had <i>Gayle</i>, or <i>Gail</i>.</p>
+<p>For K, <i>Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight</i>.</p>
+<p>For P, only <i>Payne</i>.</p>
+<p>We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them
+without looking at what I had written.</p>
+<p>All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare
+initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.</p>
+<p>Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What
+was its peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would
+leave it. It did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted
+to it simply because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed
+up large in my mind and took enormous precedence.</p>
+<p>The name Payne was given up.</p>
+<p>But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to
+Payne. If K was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took
+me an hour to find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined
+to find it. It was simple, after all--the attraction lay in the
+letters a-y-n-e. At once I added to my K's the name Kayne, although
+the name evoked no interest. Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane
+was much easier and added it to my list, wondering why I had not
+thought of it before.</p>
+<p>The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight?
+The peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not
+drop the name, but tried to sound each of my others as two
+syllables.</p>
+<p>"What's that you say, Jones?"</p>
+<p>It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.</p>
+<p>I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me,
+Ka-mes, Kay-me."</p>
+<p>The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through
+woods or fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground,
+but saw it not. My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds
+through my ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants
+and one or two vowels.</p>
+<p>Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain
+Haskell's quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's
+name? I soon had it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam
+and Kiyam to my list. We marched on.</p>
+<p>Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h.
+I felt greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which
+had the K sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more
+in Knight? Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and
+the vowel I had also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way
+toward Ki, or toward K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.</p>
+<p>Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le,
+Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me,
+involuntarily holding to the unfamiliar sound.</p>
+<p>For a long time I worked without any result, and I became
+greatly puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I
+repeated over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor
+Ka-mes, Doctor Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes,
+Doctor Ki-yam." The last name sounded nearly right.</p>
+<p>The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face
+with bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words
+again, and at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit
+the face to the name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor
+Ka-me, they do not fit; Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less
+Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<p>The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they
+dominated all other words. The strangeness of the name did not
+affect me; in fact, the name was neither strange nor familiar; and
+just because the name did not sound strange, I took courage and
+hope. I reasoned that such a name ought to sound strange, and that
+it did not was cheering. I was on the brink of something, I knew
+not what.</p>
+<p>We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps
+marched by on a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that
+we were ordered to bivouac.</p>
+<p>My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so
+great importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered
+that this one name was the clew to my past life, and was the
+beginning of my future life; the recovery of one name would mean
+all recovery; I had resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this
+name, and I felt convinced that I should find it, and soon. What
+was to result I would risk; months before, I had not had the
+courage to wish to know my past, but now I would welcome change. I
+was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life; I would hazard the
+venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former condition should prove
+unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance to escape it--by
+being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be much worse
+than my present state.</p>
+<p>That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown
+forward a mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but
+one opinion among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army
+was flanking Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had
+been sent to Georgia with his corps. But why were we making such
+short marches? Several reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said
+we were getting as near as possible first, "taking a running
+start," to use his words. Youmans thought that General Lee wanted
+to save the army from straggling before the day of battle. Mackay
+thought Ewell would make the long march, and that we must wait on
+his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as Ewell had
+marched to our right.</p>
+<p>Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around
+Meade. We were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of
+it, from which Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun,
+while Meade now occupied Pope's former position. Could General Lee
+hope that Meade, with Pope's example staring him in the face, would
+allow himself to be entrapped? This question was discussed by the
+men.</p>
+<p>Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley
+last June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing
+Meade would recall.</p>
+<p>Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far
+advanced for Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson
+thought that General Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try
+to effect the very thing he had once succeeded in; besides, he
+said, every general must provide against every contingency, but it
+is clearly impossible to do so, and in neglecting some things for
+others, he runs his risks and takes his chances. Meade would not
+retreat until he knew that the flank movement was in progress; to
+retreat in fear of having to retreat would be nonsense; and if
+Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all up with
+him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his tactics
+and follow the retreat.</p>
+<p>On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North
+Fork of the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at
+least in our front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we
+overlooked the river, and every man was a vedette, as it were. I
+lay in the line, trying to take the first step leading to the
+reconstruction of my life.</p>
+<p>"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<p>The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been
+abandoned, I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker
+power to hold me had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was
+imperfect. It did not seem wrong, but deficient rather; something
+was needed to complete it--what was that something?</p>
+<p>Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I
+wondered why. I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam
+was a poet? No; that could be no reason. Was it because he was a
+Persian? I could see no connection there. Was it because of the
+peculiar spelling of the name? It might be. What was the
+peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must think again of the
+written or printed name, not the sound only of the word.</p>
+<p>Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.</p>
+<p>I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought
+"Khay-me."</p>
+<p>By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and
+simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my
+brain. It would not do.</p>
+<p>Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not
+discouraged. I thought of no other name. Everything else had been
+definitely abandoned. Without reasoning upon it I knew that the
+name was right, and I knew, as if by intuition, how to proceed to a
+conclusion. I tried again, and knew beforehand that I should
+succeed.</p>
+<p>This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I
+did three things.</p>
+<p>There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top
+of the hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote
+"Doctor Khayme." I held the words before my eyes; I called the face
+of my dream before me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>XXXVII</h2>
+<h3>A DOUBLE</h3>
+<center>"One of these men is genius to the other;<br>
+And so of these: which is the natural man,<br>
+And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his
+daughter. I know her name--Lydia.</p>
+<p>Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of
+sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face
+of my fancy, but for the look of care.</p>
+<p>Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on
+the bank of the river.</p>
+<p>For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath.
+Now I felt that I must move or die.</p>
+<p>I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar
+physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned
+on my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my
+chin resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing
+nothing.</p>
+<p>Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of
+paradise.</p>
+<p>The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare
+hill; a shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands
+violently, and fell. The picture vanished.</p>
+<p>Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had
+fallen--was making his painful way alone in the night; he went on
+and on until he was swallowed by the darkness.</p>
+<p>Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in
+blue uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither
+officer nor man; both were in blue.</p>
+<p>Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I
+saw him standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him
+sick in a tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.</p>
+<p>Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue
+helping another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide
+themselves in a secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is
+the place I saw at Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man
+breaks his gun. The two go away.</p>
+<p>So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had
+belonged to this man.</p>
+<p>Who was this man?</p>
+<p>A soldier, evidently.</p>
+<p>What was his name?</p>
+<p>I did not know.</p>
+<p>Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?</p>
+<p>He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate
+spy.</p>
+<p>My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should
+recover the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would
+be the key to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be
+suddenly complete and continuous, but now I found the Doctor
+supplanted by a strange man whose name even I did not know, and who
+acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming to be a Confederate and at
+other times a Federal. I must exert my will and get rid of this
+man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have eaten nothing;
+I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever. I will
+get rid of him.</p>
+<p>I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an
+ambulance, but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the
+picture, and tried again.</p>
+<p>Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden
+in a straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.</p>
+<p>Who is Willis?</p>
+<p>I do not know; only Willis.</p>
+<p>It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the
+Doctor without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's
+face flits by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.</p>
+<p>I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain
+an instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man
+persisted, and contrary to my will.</p>
+<p>My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there
+no Dr. Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face
+was again before me. That look of care--or worse than care,
+anxiety--could it be mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my
+fancy, but the look was its own. I recognized the face, but the
+expression was not due to my thought or to my error; it was
+independent of me.</p>
+<p>I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the
+Man! Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who
+sometimes wore blue and sometimes gray.</p>
+<p>Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was
+nothing in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of
+the moon at Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of
+my Captain, lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the
+enemy. My brain was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I
+doubted all reality. My fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves
+were all unstrung. I felt upon the boundary edge of heaven and
+hell. I knew enough to craze me should I learn no more. I watched
+the moon; it took the form of Lydia's face; a tree became the
+strange Man who would not forsake me.</p>
+<p>Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was
+mysterious. His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The
+others are real. I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and
+her name. I know Willis and his name. The Man's face and name are
+unknown; yet does he come unbidden and uppermost and always.</p>
+<p>I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
+retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
+Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
+Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
+Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
+Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a
+new thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at
+Gaines's Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.</p>
+<p>But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
+Manassas.</p>
+<p>But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first
+Manassas.</p>
+<p>Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped
+Willis. Why should he help Willis?</p>
+<p>Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
+soldier?</p>
+<p>I know his face and I know his name.</p>
+<p>I must hunt this thought down.</p>
+<p>Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
+experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and
+his companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.</p>
+<p>But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from
+the spot? He was not captured.</p>
+<p>Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these
+two men. I must try to remember whether I saw what became of
+them.</p>
+<p>Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange
+man; he binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there!
+again a thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that
+before--with the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I
+could see that Willis was a sergeant; but how could I know that his
+name was Willis? Possibly I heard the strange man call him
+Jake--So! again it comes. I have the full name.</p>
+<p>But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to
+rise, and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch,
+and helps him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis
+drops the gun, for it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless.
+Then the strange man breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them
+moving slowly through the woods--but strange! they are no farther
+from me than before. I must have really followed them that day.
+They go on and get into the creek, and climb with difficulty the
+farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they reach a stubble
+field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels by one of
+the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down; then he
+speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he tells
+Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
+does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
+himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
+you, Jones."</p>
+<p>And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.</p>
+<p>I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I
+must not now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.</p>
+<p>Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained
+by Jones, and I go with Jones even though I want to see what
+becomes of Willis.</p>
+<p>It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I
+feel that he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear
+sounds of rattling harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops
+and looks at the wagon; I see a man get out of the wagon--a very
+small man; the man says, "Is that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who
+this man is, and though I wonder I yet know that he is Dr. Khayme.
+Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor calls for brandy. Then the
+Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in my head and all
+vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of the
+Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.</p>
+<p>It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I
+could not doubt it.</p>
+<p>The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my
+place near the right of Company H.</p>
+<p>What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground,
+and that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after
+that?</p>
+<p>My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him
+and failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see
+him, and failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer
+in regard to Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones
+and in regard to myself also. I had got to the end of that
+experience, for I had no doubt that it was an experience of my own
+in some incomprehensible connection with Jones.</p>
+<p>Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see
+Jones and Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man
+also. Who is he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an
+ambulance, and all go away into darkness.</p>
+<p>My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had
+not abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither?
+Both? If both, which followed the other? I did not know.</p>
+<p>I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I
+fail. I had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure;
+I try again, and fail.</p>
+<p>Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot
+remember Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.</p>
+<p>Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the
+corporal in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only
+Jones I can recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different
+Jones; who was he? I must try to get him.</p>
+<p>The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the
+Doctor in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting
+ready for what? A package has been made. They are talking. The
+lights are put out and I lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones.
+In the dim light of the stars he comes out of the tent; a man on a
+horse is near; he holds another horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts,
+and the two ride away. And I hear Jones ask, "What is your name?"
+and I hear the man reply, "Jones."</p>
+<p>What folly!</p>
+<p>But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then
+another picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in
+the night: Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate
+horse as black as jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men,
+and the other Jones is there, too, and I see that he is joyful that
+Jones is caught. What utter folly! Is everybody to be named Jones?
+I have followed one Jones and have found two--possibly three. Who
+is the true Jones? Is there any true Jones? Has my fevered brain
+but conjured up a picture, or series of pictures, of events that
+never had existence? Why should one Jones be glad that another
+Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.</p>
+<p>Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had
+resulted in an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I
+gave myself up to mere revery.</p>
+<p>Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was
+also an end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr.
+Khayme, and of Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with
+possibly another Jones; with these names I ought to work out the
+whole enigma. I knew that Jones was the man who had broken his gun;
+the man who had helped Willis; the man who had been under the
+bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another thought,--the man who
+had been wounded there.</p>
+<p>I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more
+relations found would untangle everything. But how to find more? I
+must think. Yet thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could
+quit thinking, the thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit
+thinking? I remembered that I had received lessons upon the power
+of the will from Captain Haskell and ... from ... somebody ...
+who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.</p>
+<p>And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any,
+could there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused
+way I groped in the tangle of this question until I became
+completely lost again, having gained, however, the knowledge that
+Dr. Khayme had taught me concerning the will.</p>
+<p>I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the
+effort was vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the
+Doctor's dark face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a
+pipe--yes, a pipe, with its carven bowl showing a strange head; and
+I could recall more easily the Captain's long jaw, and triangle of
+a face, and even the slight lisp with which he spoke. What
+relationship had these two men? If Captain Haskell had ever known
+Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of the Doctor? I had
+known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where had I known
+the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my teacher.
+Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor
+associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and
+with Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an
+ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.</p>
+<p>Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate
+hospital.</p>
+<p>The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and
+the Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a
+possibility? My brain became clearer. My people must be in
+Charleston. The Captain may have known the Doctor in Charleston.
+They may have been friends. They talked of similar subjects--at
+least, they had views which affected me similarly. Yet that might
+mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.</p>
+<p>Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant
+these two men seemed to me to be at once identical and
+separate--even opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I
+remembered that the Captain once had said he was not sure that
+there was such a condition as absolute individuality. Preposterous
+or not, the thought, gone at once, had brought another in its
+train: I had never seen these two men together, and I had never
+seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the Doctor was, there was
+Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering notion of double
+and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was seemingly a
+Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he was a
+Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas
+had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun
+rather than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had
+helped a wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been
+part of a very deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully
+that he would be received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather
+to act in entire conformity with his supposed character. He must
+always act the complete Federal when with federals, so that no
+suspicion should attach to him. No doubt he had remained in the
+Federal camp until he had got the information needed, and had
+returned to the Confederates before he had been wounded by the
+shell.</p>
+<p>So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every
+effort I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That
+Jones was a Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd
+notion of a double had drawn me away from the right track; he was a
+double, it is true, but only on the surface; he was a Confederate
+acting the Federal.</p>
+<p>Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary
+about him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his
+capacity to interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he
+changes clothing. No, not his only one; he has another: he is
+absolutely ubiquitous.</p>
+<p>That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear?
+Just because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is
+clear. My head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may
+be delusion. Dr. Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but
+as to this Jones, or these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief.
+Jones remains. Wherever I turn I find him. He will not down. If he
+is a fact, he must be the most important person related to my life.
+More so than Lydia?</p>
+<p>What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none
+the less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all,
+that my name is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought
+shows me that this supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones,
+and the spy was my brother, I should have heard of him long
+ago.</p>
+<p>Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself?
+The Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and
+I had never heard of one of them.</p>
+<p>But if he had been my brother, <i>he</i> would have hunted
+<i>me</i>, and would have found me! That was it.</p>
+<p>This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been
+killed!</p>
+<p>He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ...
+that is why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him
+since. Why had I at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I
+see that I assumed too much--or too little. I had seen him under
+the fire, and had seen him no more; that was all.</p>
+<p>Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been
+killed.</p>
+<p>It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of
+events, does not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the
+ground again, just as the events succeeded, from antecedent to
+consequent, rather than backward. It is more difficult--leaving
+memory aside--to take present conditions and discover the unknown
+which evolved these conditions, than to take present conditions and
+show what will be evolved from them. Of course, if we already know
+what preceded these conditions, there is no discovery to be
+claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our knowledge of
+the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere
+development naturally augured from the present. An incapable
+general means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable
+general.</p>
+<p>Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill
+where I had seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had
+only proved the truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a
+considerable distance, and from the past had followed Jones forward
+as well as my imperfect powers permitted; again I had jumped back
+and had followed him until he met the Doctor in the night. The
+episode of lifting Willis into the ambulance seemed a separate
+event of very short duration. My mind had unconsciously appreciated
+the difficulty of working backward, and had in reality endeavoured
+to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing Jones into
+several periods and following the events of each period in order of
+time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it,
+became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to
+suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural
+process.</p>
+<p>First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in
+blue, helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him
+when he reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor
+come to Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third,
+Jones--alone and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell
+bursting over him, and I lose him.</p>
+<p>I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred,
+and none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been
+lost to me, if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I
+wanted to find connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the
+Jones at the secret place in the woods with the Jones that I had
+seen fall, and I set my memory to work, but obtained nothing. The
+scene on the hill seemed unrelated to that of Willis.</p>
+<p>There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a
+forest at night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make
+nothing out of it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred
+before the time of Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of
+Jonas in a tent, and of an officer in blue showing him a map, and I
+could also remember that I had seen or heard that Jones had been on
+a shore with the Doctor and Lydia. These events had no connection.
+Between Jones in blue and Jones in gray there were gaps which I
+could not cross.</p>
+<p>Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events
+with the more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the
+past, hunting for the slightest clews.</p>
+<p>And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim
+past, that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the
+Doctor attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I
+strained my head to recall this scene more clearly. In this case
+Jones had no uniform; neither did the others wear uniform. And now
+a new doubt--why in a tent and without uniform?</p>
+<p>For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that
+the Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so
+early a period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or
+felt that Doctor Khayme's relationship with me was so near that,
+had he been a Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long
+since.</p>
+<p>Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought
+which followed.</p>
+<p>But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I
+could not have told, but I knew it.</p>
+<p>Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like
+intuition in my knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not
+be wounded rather than sick? How could I know that this scene in
+the tent was not the sequence of the scene of the bursting shell?
+But I say that I knew Jones was sick, and not wounded. How could I
+know this?</p>
+<p>And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I
+knew that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.</p>
+<p>I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I
+reached the conclusion that only one of these events was an
+instance of knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that
+Jones was in gray in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had
+<i>he</i> told me so? I knew that he had been sick. Had he told me
+so? In any case, I knew these things and knew that my knowledge was
+simple. But how could I know that Jones was now alive?</p>
+<p>Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make
+was, that I felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to
+myself for this knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than
+intuition. I felt that it was experience, not the experience of
+sight or hearing or any of the senses, but experience
+nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to call it so in these
+days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was none the less
+valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did not doubt.
+There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is alive,
+seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor
+touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will
+he have the life of expression and intelligence in his face.
+Communication between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or
+direction. But I saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature;
+the change of feature is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of
+the world affects every individual mind ... where did I hear such
+an idea advanced? From whom? Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.</p>
+<p>I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many
+pages, of the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.</p>
+<p>I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ...
+why, then, was he in the army?</p>
+<p>Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as
+a surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the
+tent itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore
+no uniform.</p>
+<p>But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a
+surgeon? And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance
+made the army almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers,
+assisted by the Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon,
+although he wears no uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on
+occasions; when at work at his calling he puts it off.</p>
+<p>I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything
+anew--in a new light.</p>
+<p>I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not
+found me? Again comes that thought of double personality, and this
+time it will not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's
+utterances upon the universal mind, and upon the power of the will.
+I can remember that I had almost feared him ... and suddenly I
+remember that Willis had said that the Doctor could read the mind
+... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?</p>
+<p>My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march
+had come, I could not have moved.</p>
+<p>What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had
+simply remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could
+tell what another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had
+spoken the words to ME!</p>
+<p>Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he
+had my mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be?
+But I remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to
+mind extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a
+double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with
+mind is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am
+Jones. No wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder
+that I knew he wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was
+not dead.</p>
+<p>Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I
+am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXVIII"></a>XXXVIII</h2>
+<h3>IDENTITY</h3>
+<center>"Which, is the side that I must go withal?<br>
+I am with both: each army hath a hand;<br>
+And, in their rage, I having hold of both,<br>
+They whirl asunder, and dismember me."<br>
+<br>
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of
+blue soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the
+rout. How vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them
+then--of Dr. Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to
+desert even, in order to accomplish his designs.</p>
+<p>Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a
+mist. But what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only
+pretended to desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember
+what Jones Berwick felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he
+found pretended desertion necessary?</p>
+<p>Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter
+he could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now
+knew that I was once in that army.</p>
+<p>But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?</p>
+<p>Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I
+could not have easily gone North to enlist.</p>
+<p>But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier,
+so that there would have been no need of desertion?</p>
+<p>No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been
+asked my regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment.
+I remember the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when
+Berwick Jones joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside
+the Confederate uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in
+civilian's clothing, merely because I could not bear to have
+questions asked. So, when I had played the Federal, if I had
+presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not have answered
+questions, and the requirement to report to my company would have
+destroyed my whole plan.</p>
+<p>Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining
+civilian's clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended
+recruit, just as I had joined Company H later. This was less
+unlikely when coupled with the thought that possibly my first
+experience in this course had had some hidden influence on my
+second.</p>
+<p>But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a
+Confederate? The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of
+forgetting must be the reason. When, as Jones Berwick the
+Confederate, I became Berwick Jones the Federal, there must have
+come upon my mind a phase of oblivion similar to that which clouded
+it when I became a Confederate again.</p>
+<p>Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice
+just at the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and
+profound.... What was Dr. Khayme in all this?</p>
+<p>And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I
+had carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must
+always have been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever
+get to be Berwick Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which
+was I at first? Had I ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt
+everything.</p>
+<p>My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first
+Manassas, or Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the
+Doctor; the return to Willis; the shore and the battle of the
+ships; the <i>Merrimac</i>; the line of the Warwick; the lines at
+Hanover; the night tramp in the swamp; crossing the hill; a blank,
+which my double memory knew how to fill, and the subsequent events
+of my second service in our army. Nothing important seemed lacking
+since the battle of Bull Run. Before that battle everything was
+confusion. My home was still unknown. The friends of my former
+life, so far as I could remember, had been Federals, if Dr. Khayme
+and Lydia could be called Federals.</p>
+<p>Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with
+that city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled:
+first, my life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my
+life at home and in the Confederate army before I pretended to
+desert to the Federals.</p>
+<p>I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity!
+Let reason work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can
+it mean any more than that you were known at one time as Jones
+Berwick and at another time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to
+think that you are two persons at once. Have you imagined that now,
+while you are a Confederate again, there is also a you in the
+Yankee army? When your connection with the Confederates was
+interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones Berwick; the
+J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you became a
+Confederate again, your name was reversed because of that
+diary!</p>
+<p>I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every
+word of the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.</p>
+<p>And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the
+little book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case
+I should be taken? Yes.</p>
+<p>But--I was going to become a Confederate again!</p>
+<p>Did the Doctor know that?</p>
+<p>Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the
+words he dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes;
+he helped me on with the Confederate uniform!</p>
+<p>Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was
+required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a
+Confederate?</p>
+<p>Could I not at once have named my original company and its
+officers? Why this child's play of the diary?</p>
+<p>I studied hard this phase of the tangle.</p>
+<p>Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the
+first party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable.
+I might have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and
+to detention--but for something on my person to give substance to
+my statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.</p>
+<p>But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say
+to a party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and
+especially at the thought which had caused it. I had actually
+forgotten, for the moment, that I was a real Confederate, and had
+begun to imagine that I had been a Federal trying to get into the
+Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor was helping to do so.</p>
+<p>But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a
+Confederate. If so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp?
+He, too, a spy? He and I were allies? Possibly.</p>
+<p>But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not
+think me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me
+to play the spy in the interest of the Federals.</p>
+<p>What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in
+the Union army.</p>
+<p>But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he
+would not fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God!
+what was it that he argued? And what in me was he arguing against?
+He had contended--I remember it--that the war would destroy
+slavery, and that was what he wanted to be done; and I had
+contended that the Union was pledged by the Constitution to protect
+slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation of the Union.</p>
+<p>A cold shudder came through me.</p>
+<p>In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my
+plan. I had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought
+gave little pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought
+him too wise to allow himself to be deceived.</p>
+<p>Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a
+course which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I
+became bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a
+tangle. I have not got to the bottom of this thing.</p>
+<p>Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a
+Confederate and my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy
+that I have deceived him with all his wisdom and all my reluctance
+to deceive him. Which of these two things is true?</p>
+<p>Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in
+some way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only
+that it was the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's
+army. I remember now the Doctor's telling me about movements that
+McClellan would make. These things happened in McClellan's army
+while I was a spy. To suppose that the Doctor was my ally comports
+with his giving me information of McClellan's movements. He was a
+surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate; he certainly was from
+Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But, on the other
+hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery, and his
+hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he could
+not have been a Confederate.</p>
+<p>Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I
+was in McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew
+that I was a spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy.
+How, then, could I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought
+me a Union spy, and that I was to go into the Confederate lines to
+get information, when the opposite was true.</p>
+<p>Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The
+Doctor was not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know
+that I was a Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.</p>
+<p>Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the
+second must be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that
+even Dr. Khayme had been deceived.</p>
+<p>Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my
+business was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I
+was open and frank. The second proposition, while possible, I
+reject, at least for a time.</p>
+<p>Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true?
+How absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is
+nothing false absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a
+question thoroughly, be not content with looking at two sides of
+it; look at three."</p>
+<p>Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a
+third alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a
+Confederate, is untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is
+untrue: what is a possible third?</p>
+<p>I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put
+myself in the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery
+notions and his invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he
+thinks, into the Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?</p>
+<p>Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show
+but that he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not
+do. Where is the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find
+it.</p>
+<p>What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I
+was a Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was
+opposed to war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in
+regard to the success of the Federals? No; he wished for the
+extinction of slavery. Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but
+he argued for a modification of slavery, and for gradual
+emancipation.</p>
+<p>Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would
+do violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for
+me to go back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or
+fewer does not count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of
+doing me good, knowing that he was doing the Union cause no
+harm.</p>
+<p>But would he not know that the information I should take to the
+Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously
+injuring his cause.</p>
+<p>Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that
+could not be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for
+me was too sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither
+would I have yielded.</p>
+<p>And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these
+suppositions. For the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and
+at the same time help me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on
+his part. I am forced to admit that he knew my true character and
+that I knew he knew me.</p>
+<p>But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!</p>
+<p>An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair,
+as he attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That
+look of relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that
+look of astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment
+preceding death, he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a
+Confederate!</p>
+<p>Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the
+Doctor have known me as such?</p>
+<p>Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than
+Willis ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides,
+I feel that Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know
+that Willis did not know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped
+me return to the Confederates.</p>
+<p>... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p>
+<p>But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a
+rebel, he had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why?
+Why?</p>
+<p>I fear for my reason....</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try
+another line. So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates
+the information gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not.
+My wound had caused me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to
+read the future? If he had such power, his course in regard to me
+could be understood. He knew that I should become unable to reveal
+anything to injure his cause, therefore he was willing to help me
+return to the Confederate army. There, at last, was a third
+alternative, but a bare possibility only. Was it even that?</p>
+<p>To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight,
+knew what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could
+read the future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could
+control the future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What
+are the limits? Had not the Doctor spoken to me of this very
+subject? He had reasoned against there being limits to the power of
+the mind ... notwithstanding my resistance to the thought I still
+think it; I am still thinking of the possibility that the Doctor
+controlled me, and caused me to lose the past in order that thus he
+might not be accessory to a betrayal of his own cause.</p>
+<p>This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how
+can I place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if
+there is a man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr.
+Khayme.</p>
+<p>But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing
+for me to suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I
+should endure mortification--and be without friends--and long
+hopeless of all good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not
+have been better for me to remain in the Union army? I could not
+see any reason for his subjecting me to so bitter an
+experience--but wait--did he not contend that every human being
+must go through an infinity of experience? That being true--or true
+to his thought--he might be just in causing me to endure what I
+have endured.</p>
+<p>Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run,
+seems clear if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has
+such superhuman power. Can I believe it?</p>
+<p>Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long
+till dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is
+stirring. My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the
+supernatural power of the Doctor.</p>
+<p>What would the possession of such power imply? To see future
+events and control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least.
+But the mind, is it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do
+marvellous things. That letter of my father's was a mystery....
+What! My father!</p>
+<p>The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.</p>
+<p>I have a father? Who is my father?</p>
+<p>The thought brings me to my feet.</p>
+<p>I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front
+stretches the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises
+come from rear and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no
+doubt, for the march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there
+should I be also. Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was
+signed Jones Berwick, Sr. From what place was it written? I do not
+know. But I know that my father is the man in the tent where the
+Doctor attends me sick.</p>
+<p>I make a step forward.</p>
+<p>Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the
+line is moving back; we are ordered back!"</p>
+<p>I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.</p>
+<p>I understand.</p>
+<p>I am going to my father.</p>
+<p>A flood of recollection has poured upon me.</p>
+<p>I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XXXIX"></a>XXXIX</h2>
+<h3>REPARATION</h3>
+<center>"Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,<br>
+And welcome home again discarded faith."<br>
+&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;
+--SHAKESPEARE.</center>
+<br>
+<p>My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of
+it would have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was
+made by its all coming.</p>
+<p>I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my
+father. The Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover
+my country.</p>
+<p>At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to
+my name distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my
+duty to battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger
+and death. The glory of the Confederate victories would now bring
+me pain and not joy. Oh! the deepness of the woe!</p>
+<p>But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it
+complete. I must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous
+yet criminal--a past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a
+barbarous future. I should be with the Doctor; I should be myself,
+and always myself, for I knew that my mind should nevermore suffer
+a repetition of the mysterious affliction which had changed me. My
+malady had departed forever; and with this knowledge there had come
+upon the glimmering emotions of repressed passion the almost
+overpowering consciousness that there was a woman in the world.</p>
+<p>I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had
+gone; I would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going.
+I wept and laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was
+past and future. I was strong and well. With my healing had come a
+revolution of another kind--a physical change which I felt would
+make of me a different creature from the poor moody rebel in rags,
+or even the groping Yankee spy of the day and of the year
+before.</p>
+<p>How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted
+and true. No matter what should befall them, they would continue to
+be true and loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the
+blackest disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage
+and for fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may
+conquer them. Their soldierly honour will be maintained even when
+they go down in defeat, as they must; never will shame lay its
+touch upon their ways, no matter what their destiny. I honour them,
+more now since I know the might of their enemies; I love them; I am
+proud of their high deeds, but I am done with them. In my heart
+alone can I do them reverence. My hand must be against them, as it
+has been for them.</p>
+<p>R&auml;tions? R&atilde;tions! The Federals say
+<i>r&atilde;tions</i>! Why did I not follow that clew?</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place
+to cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was
+lighting the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the
+well-known sounds of a moving army--an army which had been my pride
+and now must be my enemy. How often had I followed the red flag!
+How I had raised my voice in the tumult of the charge--mingling no
+dissentient note in the mighty concert of the fierce old rebel
+yell!</p>
+<p>What will they think of me? I know full well what they will
+think, and the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to
+beat. They will say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the
+Yankees; not at once will they say that, but in a week or two when
+hope of my return has been abandoned--and a few will say that Jones
+has lost his mind and has wandered off. The first--the unkind--will
+be right, and they will be wrong. The others--the generous--will be
+utterly wrong. I have not lost my mind; I have found it, and found
+it "for good." The report of my desertion will come to Adjutant
+Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will they tell? I hope not. Will
+they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I cannot hope it.</p>
+<p>Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones
+Berwick live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men
+live forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than
+death which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall
+never die. On through the ages! That bright star--almost the only
+one left in the graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it
+born!</p>
+<p>I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was
+up; I kept it on my right. What should I do and say when I should
+reach our men? Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to
+them quickly. The rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of
+infantry were seeking to fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or
+there would be a third Bull Run.</p>
+<p>But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid
+being captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will
+call for Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General
+Morell and to General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss
+of a day, half a day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to
+be falling back now. To retreat at once may save it--to delay means
+terrible disaster.</p>
+<p>I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do,
+to make the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy
+retreat of the army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its
+destruction, I shall be happy. I will even say that my service as a
+Confederate was a small price to pay ... what had the Doctor said?
+He had said that my infirmity was a power! He had said that he
+could imagine cases in which my peculiar affliction would give
+great opportunity for serving the country. What a mind that man
+has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he has had active part in what
+has befallen me.</p>
+<p>I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through
+wood and field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses
+and fields and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste,
+knowing or feeling that I shall find no help here. Here I shun
+nothing; here I seek nothing--beyond this region are the people I
+want. What can I say? what can I prove? This is the question that
+troubles me. If I say that I am a Union soldier, I must tell the
+whole truth, and that I cannot do; besides, it would not be
+believed. If I say I am a deserter, my declarations as to Lee's
+movement will not be taken without suspicion. What shall I do? If I
+could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal clothing; I might
+hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems impossible. I
+must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr. Khayme! But
+I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he is
+somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive?
+And Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long
+months! Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall
+find Lydia, but I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time;
+to seek the Doctor might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to
+the general headquarters.</p>
+<p>To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another.
+I hurry on. What do they mean by fighting down there?</p>
+<p>I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the
+fields or roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is
+bare. No smoke rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled;
+the roads are untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.</p>
+<p>I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints
+cover the road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout
+and weep for joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement.
+That is, if they go far enough west.</p>
+<p>Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does
+it mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that
+Lee is preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are
+only to deceive.</p>
+<p>On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road.
+Other cavalry may be coming or going.</p>
+<p>The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow
+it. I go straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the
+road beyond the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It
+looks like a man. It is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit
+I cock my rifle and hold it at the ready. I cannot see that he is
+armed. I go straight to him. He is lying on the ground, with his
+back toward me. He hears me. He rises to his feet. He is unarmed.
+He is greatly astonished, but is silent.</p>
+<p>"What are you doing here?"</p>
+<p>"I surrender," he says.</p>
+<p>"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body
+of your men."</p>
+<p>He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your
+game."</p>
+<p>He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the
+west, and goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to
+us?"</p>
+<p>"Yes."</p>
+<p>"Then let me have the gun," he says.</p>
+<p>I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order
+to claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
+believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is
+not impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he
+wants to march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him
+back to the Union army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not
+give him the gun. But I will make him talk.</p>
+<p>"What do you want with the gun?"</p>
+<p>"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference,"
+he says.</p>
+<p>He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and
+down hill, hardly changing direction.</p>
+<p>Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what
+made you quit?"</p>
+<p>"My mind changed," I say.</p>
+<p>He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
+wouldn't say that, if I was you."</p>
+<p>"Why not, since it is true?"</p>
+<p>"It will do you no good."</p>
+<p>"But why?"</p>
+<p>"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do
+as you please."</p>
+<p>He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the
+whole truth.</p>
+<p>I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them.
+Their leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done
+a good job. How did you happen to get him?"</p>
+<p>"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have
+information of extreme importance to give him."</p>
+<p>"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if
+you please."</p>
+<p>"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must
+make a condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning
+slightly.</p>
+<p>"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send
+me to General Meade at once."</p>
+<p>"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."</p>
+<p>"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to
+count. If you object to it, however, I withdraw it."</p>
+<p>"Then, who are you?"</p>
+<p>"I decline to say."</p>
+<p>"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should
+like to know how I am to rely on what you tell."</p>
+<p>"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a
+horse, and send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me
+until I tell what I have to tell."</p>
+<p>"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and
+another for this man."</p>
+<p>Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You
+see, I am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served
+Thomas; now let him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"</p>
+<p>"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean
+your flank."</p>
+<p>"The devil you say! Infantry?"</p>
+<p>"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six
+divisions."</p>
+<p>"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me
+the truth?"</p>
+<p>"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
+countenance."</p>
+<p>"When did Ewell begin his march?"</p>
+<p>"I do not know."</p>
+<p>"When did Hill march?"</p>
+<p>"He began to move on the 8th."</p>
+<p>"Where was he before that date?"</p>
+<p>"In camp near Orange Court-House."</p>
+<p>"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"</p>
+<p>"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."</p>
+<p>"Which division is yours?"</p>
+<p>"Please withdraw that question."</p>
+<p>"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night
+of the 8th?"</p>
+<p>"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."</p>
+<p>"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"</p>
+<p>"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."</p>
+<p>"Where on the 10th?"</p>
+<p>"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."</p>
+<p>"And where on the 11th?"</p>
+<p>"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a
+few miles from Jeffersonton."</p>
+<p>"And where was Ewell's corps?"</p>
+<p>"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed
+Hill's yesterday afternoon."</p>
+<p>"Going up?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; it went toward our right."</p>
+<p>"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"</p>
+<p>"Three."</p>
+<p>"Who commands them?"</p>
+<p>"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."</p>
+<p>"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"</p>
+<p>"It began to move up the river at daybreak."</p>
+<p>"Is that all you have of importance?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger.
+General Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with
+Jackson's march last year around General Pope." I say this very
+earnestly, and continue: "You ought to know that I am telling you
+the truth. A man coming into your lines and ordering an unarmed man
+to take him to you, ought to be believed."</p>
+<p>"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
+impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
+life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
+nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of
+prepossessing. The homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than
+I am. The strain to which I have been subjected for days and weeks,
+and especially for the last forty-eight hours, must be telling
+fearfully upon me. Uncouth, dirty, ragged, starved, weak through
+fever and strong through unnatural excitement, there can be no
+wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He may suspect that such a
+creature is seeking the presence of General Meade in order to
+assassinate him.</p>
+<p>"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other
+weapons. Bind my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this
+horse's belly. All I ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I
+am not wretchedly mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch
+for me."</p>
+<p>"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
+gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for
+your life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."</p>
+<p>He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.</p>
+<p>"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling
+the truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived
+in some way. Good luck to you."</p>
+<p>He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.</p>
+<p>I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine,
+and his holsters were not empty.</p>
+<p>"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.</p>
+<p>We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are
+nearing the river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad
+trains, directly in front but far away.</p>
+<p>The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my
+horse's sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do
+not stop. I say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and
+storms, but keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound
+to my side, and I feel his hand on my collar.</p>
+<p>"Are you crazy?" he shouts.</p>
+<p>I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a
+suspicion may ruin my plan.</p>
+<p>After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the
+camps. We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.</p>
+<p>At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide,
+giving him the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard,
+before the general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers
+and orderlies. The aide approached the general, who turned and
+looked at me. The general held the note in his hand.</p>
+<p>"What is your name?" he asked."</p>
+<p>"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.</p>
+<p>"What brigade?"</p>
+<p>"McGowan's."</p>
+<p>"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"</p>
+<p>"South Carolina."</p>
+<p>"What division?"</p>
+<p>"Wilcox's."</p>
+<p>"How many brigades are in that division?"</p>
+<p>"Four, General."</p>
+<p>"Name them."</p>
+<p>"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."</p>
+<p>"From what states?"</p>
+<p>"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade
+is from Georgia."</p>
+<p>"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"</p>
+<p>"This morning, sir, before daylight"</p>
+<p>"You say that a movement was in progress?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"What?"</p>
+<p>"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."</p>
+<p>"Up what river?"</p>
+<p>"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."</p>
+<p>"You say the army? General Lee's army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to
+Georgia."</p>
+<p>"Did you see the other troops?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."</p>
+<p>"Did you see both corps?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in
+the afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours
+passing."</p>
+<p>The officers standing about were attentive, even serious.
+General Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.</p>
+<p>"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"</p>
+<p>"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there
+are some officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if
+they were here."</p>
+<p>"Who are they?"</p>
+<p>"General Morell is one, sir."</p>
+<p>All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I
+saw one of them tap his forehead.</p>
+<p>"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.</p>
+<p>"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."</p>
+<p>"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without
+evasion. What are you to General Morell?"</p>
+<p>"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that
+he would know me and believe me."</p>
+<p>"What are you to General Grover?"</p>
+<p>"He knew me, General"</p>
+<p>"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now
+with this army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent
+witnesses."</p>
+<p>"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me
+out."</p>
+<p>"General Porter is no longer in this army."</p>
+<p>"Then General Butterfield."</p>
+<p>"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."</p>
+<p>I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling
+for Dr. Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise.
+What had become of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who
+by bare possibility might have heard of me through General Morell,
+was, as I knew very well, far from this army. Certainly the war had
+been hard on the general officers of this Army of the Potomac. I
+would risk one more name.</p>
+<p>"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."</p>
+<p>"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"</p>
+<p>"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."</p>
+<p>General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head
+slightly.</p>
+<p>"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going
+to ask you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to
+answer quickly and without many words. How do you happen to know
+that the colonel of the Eleventh Massachusetts is named
+Blaisdell?"</p>
+<p>I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade
+alone, I should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea
+again came that he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to
+answer quickly, so I said, "I had friends in that regiment,
+General."</p>
+<p>The officers had gathered around their commander as close as
+etiquette allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of
+them very serious--others with sneers."</p>
+<p>"Name one of your friends."</p>
+<p>"John Lawler, sir."</p>
+<p>"What company?"</p>
+<p>"Company D."</p>
+<p>An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.</p>
+<p>"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know
+General Grover and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did
+General Grover command? Where was it that you knew him?"</p>
+<p>"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
+information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
+would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
+Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"</p>
+<p>"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a
+look.</p>
+<p>"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.</p>
+<p>A second orderly was sent off.</p>
+<p>All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to
+question me. I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the
+general, and a plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor
+appeared.</p>
+<p>"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"</p>
+<p>"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the
+Doctor quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful
+self-control would not even now desert him.</p>
+<p>"How do you know they were still moving?"</p>
+<p>"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the
+movement, sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on
+his conduct depended my peace for the future. If he should betray
+me, I should henceforth be a living curiosity.</p>
+<p>"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.</p>
+<p>The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how
+to answer. I was silent.</p>
+<p>"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"</p>
+<p>"Start where, General?"</p>
+<p>"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was
+moving? If you intended to be of service to us, why did you
+delay?"</p>
+<p>Here was an opening.</p>
+<p>"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday,
+General; besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of
+the nature of General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could
+give the Doctor some signal before he should speak--before he
+should recognize me. I was determined to prevent his exposing me,
+no matter at what personal risk.</p>
+<p>"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.</p>
+<p>"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me,
+General. But that was only additional to the circumstances of
+position and direction of march."</p>
+<p>"The men? What do the men know of such things?"</p>
+<p>"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the
+country, from having marched over it many times. They were in the
+August campaign of last year; they said that the present movement
+could mean nothing except a repetition of General Jackson's flank
+march of last year."</p>
+<p>The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon
+me. The officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances
+one at another.</p>
+<p>"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"</p>
+<p>"I was in Jackson's corps, General."</p>
+<p>"Did you make the march under him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of
+last year?"</p>
+<p>"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General
+Jackson's corps at the very place where I left Hill's corps this
+morning. On August 25th last year General Jackson crossed the
+Hedgeman River on his flank march. Hill's corps this morning began
+to move toward the crossing of the river."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"</p>
+<p>"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."</p>
+<p>"Do you know him when you see him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir--many times."</p>
+<p>"Have you seen General Ewell?"</p>
+<p>"I would not know General Ewell, sir."</p>
+<p>"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"</p>
+<p>"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."</p>
+<p>"When?"</p>
+<p>"Yesterday, General."</p>
+<p>"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"</p>
+<p>"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it
+took many hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different
+brigades told us they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it,
+General."</p>
+<p>The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were
+for the purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without
+change of substance.</p>
+<p>The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
+reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General
+Meade. Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.</p>
+<p>The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade,
+"General, I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to
+meet him, if but a few yards."</p>
+<p>The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.</p>
+<p>I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or
+no!"</p>
+<p>General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.</p>
+<p>The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.</p>
+<p>Intense gravity was all over him.</p>
+<p>General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, sir."</p>
+<p>"Who is he?"</p>
+<p>The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and
+shook his head; "I obey orders, General," he said.</p>
+<p>"Then reply," said the general.</p>
+<p>"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose,
+however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head.
+Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a
+huddle.</p>
+<p>"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.</p>
+<p>"Do you vouch for him?"</p>
+<p>"Yes, General."</p>
+<p>"He brings information of great import, if true; there is
+immense danger in accepting it, if false."</p>
+<p>"I will answer for him with my life, General."</p>
+<p>"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And
+he will tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"</p>
+<p>"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."</p>
+<p>"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very
+reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.</p>
+<p>"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may
+confide in the general. You see, General, there is a private matter
+in which my friend here is greatly interested, and which he does
+not want everybody to hear."</p>
+<p>"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is
+bringing me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the
+general; "now speak up and convince me, and be quick."</p>
+<p>"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I
+am a regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p>
+<p>Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."</p>
+<p>"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so
+long to tell it?"</p>
+<p>He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending
+despatches like the woods afire.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<hr style="width: 35%;">
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2><a name="XL"></a>XL</h2>
+<h3>CONCLUSION</h3>
+<center>"And all that was death<br>
+Grows life, grows love,<br>
+Grows love."--BROWNING.</center>
+<br>
+<p>The Doctor held my hand.</p>
+<p>Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub
+rose; clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and
+south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.</p>
+<p>But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were
+three corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick,
+Sykes, and Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the
+morning of this day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until
+these troops should succeed in recrossing to the north side of the
+river, a strong force must hold the bridges.</p>
+<p>Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this
+was the first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.</p>
+<p>Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and
+eastward on every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his
+eyes and sobs in his voice. I had never seen him thus.</p>
+<p>We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and
+the wagons ready to move.</p>
+<p>"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.</p>
+<p>He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not
+see; all its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain,
+remained there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and
+came back to me.</p>
+<p>"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.</p>
+<p>I got in.</p>
+<p>By my side was a woman ... weeping.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the
+horizon. In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P.
+Hill; in the south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.</p>
+<p>The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.</p>
+<hr style="width: 25%;">
+<p>Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to
+the darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs,
+there sat, apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions,
+a group of three.</p>
+<p>One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at
+least a sage, at least a hero.</p>
+<p>One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.</p>
+<p>One was a common soldier.</p>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+***** This file should be named 12229-h.htm or 12229-h.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/2/12229/
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year. For example:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/old/12229-h/images/033.png b/old/12229-h/images/033.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8f1ca1f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h/images/033.png
diff --git a/old/12229-h/images/186.png b/old/12229-h/images/186.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..28b9a92
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h/images/186.png
diff --git a/old/12229-h/images/326.png b/old/12229-h/images/326.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e1ee0a1
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h/images/326.png
diff --git a/old/12229-h/images/367.png b/old/12229-h/images/367.png
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..657aeef
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229-h/images/367.png
diff --git a/old/12229.txt b/old/12229.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f83ed32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,19825 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Who Goes There?
+
+Author: Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+Release Date: May 1, 2004 [EBook #12229]
+[Last updated. June 20, 2012]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+
+THE STORY OF A SPY
+
+IN
+
+THE CIVIL WAR
+
+
+BY
+
+B.K. BENSON
+
+
+1900
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+I. THE ADVANCE.
+II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.
+III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.
+IV. A PERSONAGE.
+V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.
+VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.
+VII. A SECOND DISASTER.
+VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.
+IX. KILLING TIME.
+X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.
+XI. FORT WILLIS.
+XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.
+XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.
+XIV. OUT OF SORTS.
+XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.
+XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.
+XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.
+XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.
+XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.
+XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.
+XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.
+XXII. COMPANY H.
+XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.
+XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.
+XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.
+XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.
+XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.
+XXIX. FOREBODINGS.
+XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.
+XXXI. GLOOM.
+XXXII. NIGHT.
+XXXIII. HELL.
+XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.
+XXXV. AWAKENINGS.
+XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.
+XXXVII. A DOUBLE.
+XXXVIII. IDENTITY.
+XXXIX. REPARATION.
+XL. CONCLUSION.
+
+
+MAPS
+
+ 1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS MUSKET.
+ 2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.
+ 3. VIRGINIA.
+ 4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN MUSKET.
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION
+
+     "I'll note you in my book of memory."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I say
+malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition had never
+been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my father's
+opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five years old, to
+lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory entirely, but my ability
+to recall the events and the mental impressions of a recent period. The
+physicians had agreed that the trouble would pass away, but it had been
+repeated more than once. At the age of ten, when occurred the first
+attack which I remember, I was at school in my native New England
+village. One very cold day I was running home after school, when my foot
+slipped on a frozen pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great
+pain, and was almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I
+saw around me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast
+table to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too
+heavy, with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly
+changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took me
+home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions which I
+could not understand.
+
+Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He
+inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher, about
+the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me, and I
+answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an interval of
+more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried to learn whether
+there remained in my mind any effect of my studies during the past
+term. The result was surprising. He found that as to actual knowledge my
+mind retained the power developed by its exercise,--without, however,
+holding all details of fact,--but that, in everything not positive, my
+experience seemed to have been utterly lost. I knew my multiplication
+table thoroughly; I had acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I
+could write correctly, and my ability to read was not lessened. But when
+questions concerning historical events, either general or local, were
+asked, my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned
+for the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on
+the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and against
+the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on the previous
+day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy boy.
+
+Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last period
+of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images, while the time
+preceding that period was as nothing to me. My little sister had died
+when I was six years old; I did not know that she had ever lived; her
+name, even, was strange to me.
+
+After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my own
+opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was not,
+however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the doctors'
+deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to take me to the
+South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the fact that my father
+had landed interests in South Carolina. At any rate, my father soon took
+me to Charleston, where I was again put to school. Doubtless I was thus
+relieved of much annoyance, as my new schoolmates received me without
+showing the curiosity which would have irritated me in my own village.
+
+More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned to me.
+The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a group of boys
+were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto regiment had
+distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say, "Yes, your Uncle
+Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best in the army." I felt a
+glow of pride at this praise of my people--as I supposed it to be. More
+talk followed, however, in which it became clear that the boys were not
+speaking of Franklin Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was
+greatly puzzled.
+
+A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M. Butler,
+the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had fallen on the
+field of Churubusco.
+
+Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been disturbed
+by this event, but I know that from this time I began to collect,
+vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life; so that, when
+my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had entirely recovered
+my lost memory. I even knew everything that had happened in the recent
+interval, so that my consciousness held an uninterrupted chain of all
+past events of importance. And now I realized with wonder one of the
+marvellous compensations of nature. My brain reproduced form, size,
+colour--any quality of a material thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly
+that the actual object seemed present to my senses, while I could feel
+dimly, what I now know more thoroughly, that my memory during the
+interval had operated weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so
+called--questions of doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which
+there might well be more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind.
+Although I have truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind
+began its recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first
+step was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some
+difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto
+regiment acquired the greater glory.
+
+My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my summers
+were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became dissatisfied
+with my progress, and decided that I should return to the South for the
+winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no recurrence of my mental
+peculiarity he would thereafter put me in the hands of a private tutor
+who should prepare me for college.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health was
+sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and gained a
+reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert especially in
+climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were, nevertheless,
+considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that the anxiety shown
+by my father for my health influenced me somewhat; moreover, I had a
+natural bent toward bodily rather than mental exercise.
+
+The feature most attractive to me in school work was the debating class.
+As a sort of _ex-officio_ president of this club, was one of our tutors,
+whom none of the boys seemed greatly to like. He was called Professor
+Khayme--pronounced Ki-me. Sometimes the principal addressed him as
+Doctor. He certainly was a very learned and intelligent man; for
+although the boys had him in dislike, there were yet many evidences of
+the respect he commanded from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed,
+at various times, of different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty
+and fifty. He was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall,
+and was exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his
+countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed always
+complete self-control, if not indifference. He was dark--almost as dark
+as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the breadth and height of his
+forehead were almost a deformity. He had no beard, and yet I feel sure
+that he never used a razor. I rarely saw him off duty without a peculiar
+black pipe in his mouth, which he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the
+smoke at very long intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent
+schoolmates that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through
+his skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated
+the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.
+
+Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to which were
+admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my dying day I shall
+remember one of these occasions. The debate, so celebrated, between the
+great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster was the feature of the
+entertainment. Behind the curtain sat Professor Khayme, prompter and
+general manager. A boy with mighty lungs and violent gesticulation
+recited an abridgment of Hayne's speech, beginning:--
+
+     "If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and I say
+     it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison
+     with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and
+     uncalculating devotion to the Union, that State is South
+     Carolina."
+
+Great applause followed. These were times of sectional compromise. I
+also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting influence of
+Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for harmony between the
+sections. The majority of thinking people considered true patriotism to
+concist in patience and charity each to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's
+"Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but few Southerners had read it or
+would read it. I also applauded.
+
+Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced that the
+next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to Hayne,' to be
+recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master Jones Berwick."
+
+I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me that I
+was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt an
+impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the boys all
+over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped loudly. Then the
+professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and his voice was by far
+his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master Berwick had not been
+originally selected to recite, but that the young orator chosen the duty
+had been called away unexpectedly, and that it was well known that
+Master Berwick, being a compatriot of the great Webster, and being not
+only thoroughly competent to declaim the abridged form of the speech in
+question, but also in politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator,
+could serve with facility in the stead of the absentee, and would
+certainly sustain the reputation of the club.
+
+How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I know not
+what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech recited, but not
+recently, and I could not see my way through.
+
+I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said to me, in
+a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I pledge you my word
+as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to this light." Then he
+seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few soft finger-touches, and I
+remembered no more until I found myself on the rostrum listening to a
+perfect din of applause that covered the close of my speech. If there
+were any fire-eaters in the audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an
+knew how to be polite, even to a fault.
+
+I could not understand my success: I had vague inward inclination that
+it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have departed for the time.
+I felt that some wonderful change had been wrought in me, and, youngster
+though I was, I was amazed to think what might be the possibilities
+of the mind.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor Khayme, but as
+he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as oratory, it was
+impossible that we should not meet. In class he was reserved and
+confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone or look varying
+his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though his outward gravity
+and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that he influenced me by a
+power which no other man exerted over me.
+
+One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just crossed
+Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder, and, turning, I
+saw Doctor Khayme.
+
+"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.
+
+He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have from your
+father a letter in relation to your health. He says that he is uneasy
+about you."
+
+"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason to be
+worried."
+
+"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the Doctor.
+
+Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I am
+glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do _you_ think I am wrong
+in health?"
+
+"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for you to see
+the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany me to my lodging,
+I will show it to you."
+
+Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of the side
+streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines clambered over the
+porch and were trained so that they almost hid the windows. An old
+woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and everything that a general
+servant may be, opened to his knock.
+
+"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to my
+thought.
+
+I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The windows
+looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front of the grate,
+where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For the rest, there
+was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old bookcase in a corner
+seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes in antique covers, A
+writing-table, littered and piled with papers, was in the middle of the
+room, and there were a few easy-chairs, into one of which the Doctor
+motioned me.
+
+Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took
+down a pipe with a long stem, and began to stuff the bowl with
+tobacco which I saw was very black; while he was doing so, I recognized
+on the pipe the carven image of an idol.
+
+"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."
+
+I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he meant.
+
+He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and handed
+it to me. I read:--
+
+     "MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to you. My
+     son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great
+     uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above
+     the average--you will have already discovered this; but I
+     wish to say that his mind has passed through strange
+     experiences and that possibly he must--though God forbid--go
+     through more of such. A friend of mine has convinced me that
+     you can help my boy.
+
+     Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."
+
+When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was strange,
+especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor and offered the
+letter to him.
+
+"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."
+
+I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat with the
+amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes were turned
+from me.
+
+He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning toward me,
+and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said very slowly, "I do
+not think it advisable to ask you to tell me what the mental experiences
+are to which your father alludes; it may be best that you should not
+speak of them; it may be best that you should not think of them. I am
+sure that I can help you; I am sure that your telling me your history
+could not cause me to help you more."
+
+I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and sweet. I
+could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed fixed on me,
+but I felt that he was looking through me at something beyond.
+
+Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your will. I can
+help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have great will-power
+also, but you have not cultivated that power. This is a critical time in
+your life. You are becoming a man. You must use your will. I can help
+you by making you see that you _can_ use your will, and that the will is
+very powerful--that _your_ will is very powerful. He who has confidence
+in his own will-power will exert it. I can help you to have confidence.
+But I cannot exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I
+shall give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little
+your present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
+doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and against
+to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty in choosing
+for or against. You are just in that condition. You have feared and
+mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are leaving you, and
+curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not bid you to make an
+effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to determine now whether you
+will struggle against weakness or submit to it; whether you will begin
+to use your sleeping will-power or else continue to accept what comes."
+
+I rose to my feet at once.
+
+"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first smile I had
+ever seen on his face.
+
+"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually learned more
+and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter told me much, that
+I could never have guessed. She was a very serious child, perhaps of
+eleven years, and not very attractive. In fact, she was ugly, but her
+gravity seemed somehow to suit her so well that I could by no means
+dislike her. Her father was very fond of her; of an evening the three
+of us would sit in the west room; the Doctor would smoke and read; I
+would read some special matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my
+tutor; Lydia would sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and
+absorbed seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some
+words which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the
+seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the
+natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way. I was
+not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of the
+household, and never thought of asking for information that seemed
+withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when the Doctor
+would be absent from the room, that they were foreigners,--a fact which.
+I had already taken for granted,--but I was never made to know the land
+of their birth. It was certain that Dr. Khayme could speak German and
+French, and I could frequently see him reading in books printed in
+characters unknown to me. Several times I have happened to come
+unexpectedly into the presence of the father and daughter when they were
+conversing in a tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor
+had no companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from
+the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at the
+cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from remarks
+dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she had, that her
+studies were the languages in the main, and I had strong evidence that,
+young as she was, her proficiency in French and German far exceeded my
+own acquirements.
+
+By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in what we
+would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for the experience
+I am now writing down embraces the winters of five or six years. Most of
+the books that composed his library were abstruse treatises on
+metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I believe that in his collection
+could have been found the Bible of every religious faith. Sometimes he
+would read aloud a passage in the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a
+manuscript copy interleaved with annotations in his own delicate
+handwriting.
+
+He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested in the
+political condition of every civilized nation. The future of the human
+race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much thought. I have
+heard him more than once declare, with emphasis, that the outlook for
+the advancement of America was not auspicious. In regard to the
+sectional discord in the United States, he showed a strange unconcern. I
+knew that he believed it a matter of indifference whether secession, of
+which we were beginning again to hear some mutterings, was a
+constitutional right; but on the question of slavery his interest was
+intense. He believed that slavery could not endure, let secession be
+attempted or abandoned, let secession fail or succeed.
+
+In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had
+interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the
+intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much reason
+to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my father
+about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long time, in fact,
+the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when it did come I
+decided that, since my father had not mentioned the matter, it was not
+for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.
+
+My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my life in the
+South had given way to his fears, and that I was to continue to spend my
+winters in Charleston. In after years I learned that Dr. Khayme had not
+thought my condition exempt from danger.
+
+So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57, without
+recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my father and the
+physicians agreed that my migrations should cease, and I entered
+college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I expressed great regret
+on account of our separation, but I received no reply.
+
+On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly, even
+without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered lapse of
+memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable exactness, all the
+time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr. Khayme.
+
+Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was induced
+to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that had happened
+since the last day I spent there, and he was, moreover, very anxious to
+meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our arrival in Charleston, however, that
+the Doctor and his daughter had sailed for Liverpool early in September.
+My father and I travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my
+memory was completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts,
+leaving me in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until
+August, 1860.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on Sumter,
+was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire to enter the
+army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he doubted the effect of
+military life upon my mental nature. Our family physician, however, was
+upon my side, and contended, with what good reason I did not know, that
+the active life of war would be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so
+my father ceased to oppose, and I enlisted.
+
+
+
+WHO GOES THERE?
+
+I
+
+THE ADVANCE
+
+     "Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm."--Shakespeare.
+
+In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It was July
+16, 1861.
+
+The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."
+
+I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be
+understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these
+orders, except two things:--
+
+First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.
+
+Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun burnt our
+faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down hill, up hill and
+down hill, we marched for an hour, west and southwest.
+
+We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens. The
+city could no longer he seen.
+
+Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired sergeant--a
+favourite with the men.
+
+I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.
+
+"Miles's division," says Willis.
+
+"What is on our left?"
+
+"Nothing," says Willis.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"We are the left," says Willis.
+
+The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible views.
+
+The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short sword
+saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the colonel at the
+head of the regiment. The captain returned to his post:--
+
+"_Comp-a-ny_--B ... ATTENTION!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"LOAD!" ...
+
+"_Shudda_ ... HOP!" ...
+
+"_R-i-i-i-i-ght_ ... FACE!" ...
+
+"_Fah_--_w-u-u-u-d_ ... MOTCH!" ...
+
+"_Fi--lef_ ... MOTCH!"
+
+Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.
+
+The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.
+
+Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I could see
+some black spots in a stubble-field.
+
+"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.
+
+"Any rebels out that way?"
+
+"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.
+
+Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few miles
+had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from four to four;
+great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by our columns advancing
+on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the sun directly in our faces.
+This little peaked infantry cap is a damnable outrage. The straps across
+my shoulders seemed to cut my flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My
+canteen was soon dry. The men were no longer erect as on dress parade.
+Each one bent over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no
+heavy cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was
+using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the sergeants.
+My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.
+
+Another halt; a new detail for water.
+
+The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the darkness. A
+hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a mile and a halt of
+half an hour; an exasperating march. At two o'clock in the morning we
+were permitted to break ranks. I was too tired to sleep. Where we were I
+knew not, and I know not--somewhere in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis,
+who was near me, lying on his blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow,
+said that we were the left of McDowell's army; that the centre and right
+extended for miles; that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax
+Court-House at this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he
+would wake up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before the light we were aroused by the reveille.
+
+The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for many
+hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward to relieve
+the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred yards of a
+feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost parallel with our
+skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but trees. Beyond the
+stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men of the company were in
+position, but at ease. The division was half a mile in our rear.
+
+I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the
+blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to think of
+my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few yards away; he
+was in the act of lighting his pipe.
+
+"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.
+
+"What's what?" I asked.
+
+"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"
+
+At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a low
+rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again the
+distant cannon was heard.
+
+About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from Washington were
+in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war correspondent had
+outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the campaign. Basing his
+prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he knew something of the
+nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the public was informed that
+Heintzelman's division would swing far to the left until the rear of
+Beauregard's right flank was reached; at the same time Miles and Hunter
+would seize Fairfax Court-House, and threaten the enemy's centre and
+left, and would seriously attack when Heintzelman should give the
+signal. Thus, rolled up from the right, and engaged everywhere else, the
+enemy's defeat was inevitable.
+
+The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a little
+when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was beginning to be
+afraid that his plans were endangered.
+
+"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax Court-House,"
+said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means that our troops have
+been delayed. Beauregard is awake."
+
+Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was my
+first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We readied a
+spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be seen. He was
+facing us, instead of his front. The poor fellow--Johnson, of our
+company--had, been on post for two mortal hours, and was more concerned
+about the relief in his rear than about the enemy that might not be in
+his front. The sergeant halted within a few paces of the vedette, while
+I received instructions. I was to ascertain from the sentinel any
+peculiarity of his post and the general condition, existing in his
+front, and then, dismiss him to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could
+tell me nothing. He had seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and
+I was alone.
+
+The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to enable one
+to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was invisible. Night
+was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A thousand insects were
+cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed concert welcomed the twilight.
+A gentle breeze swayed the branches of the tree above me. Far away--to
+right or left, I know not--a cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The
+wind died away.
+
+I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.
+
+I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the first time
+the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but natural to be
+nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided that I was not
+nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in the swamp sounded
+but familiar and appropriate.
+
+That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was certain
+unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of wars and
+battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I wondered whether
+the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew they would fight; I had
+lived among those misguided people.
+
+
+
+II
+
+A SHAMEFUL DAY
+
+     'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs betimes."--Shakespeare.
+
+"_Fall in, men! Fall in Company D_!"
+
+It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.
+
+We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a constant
+state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed reconnaissance on
+Bull Run had brought more than our generals had counted on; we had heard
+the combat, but had taken no part in it. Now the attack by the left had
+been abandoned.
+
+The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying to get
+rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations in our
+haversacks.
+
+At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road for
+Centreville.
+
+Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody took the
+trouble to assent or deny.
+
+At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay down--in the
+road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet and moved about
+impatiently.
+
+An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and we must
+wait till the way was clear.
+
+Little noise was made by the column marching on the road intersecting
+ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in general the men were
+silent, going forward with rapid strides, or standing stock still when
+brought to an abrupt halt whenever the head of the column struck
+an obstacle.
+
+I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was
+nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two hours high.
+
+Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the dust. In
+ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no command, except
+the everlasting "Close up! close up!"
+
+Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a neighbourhood road;
+... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so much dust now, but the sun
+getting hotter and hotter, and hotter and hotter getting our thirst.
+
+And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!
+
+Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear it? The
+cannon roar in the valley below us.
+
+Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a
+ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at double-quick;
+the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our front.
+
+What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and fire.
+
+See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red blood
+streams from his head!
+
+What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the hill. Why
+should they die?
+
+Ah, me! ah, me!
+
+The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander rides to
+its front:
+
+"_Colour_--_bearer_--_twelve_--_paces_--_to the front_--MARCH!
+_Bat-tal-ion_--_pre-sent_--ARMS!"
+
+Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and cries,
+DIES BY IT!
+
+A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces are
+white as death.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--_fix_--BAYONETS!
+
+"_For-ward_--_guide centre_--MARCH!"
+
+Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt and
+re-form.
+
+We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly with a
+dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique is a battery;
+... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and the horses and the
+men; they load and fire, load and fire.
+
+A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls ...
+rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.
+
+Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air? Thop!
+Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his height
+is lost.
+
+And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the battery
+has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long line of men
+come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns. The men of the
+battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the captured pieces.
+
+Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise and
+look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no music, no drum
+... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel behind the centre,
+dismounted,--the men march on; quick time, right-shoulder-shift; the
+fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the regiment always marching on.
+The rebels at the battery are not in line; some try to drag away the
+guns; swords flash in the hot sun; ... the rebels re-form; ... they lie
+down; ... and now the regiment is at double-quick with trailed arms; ...
+the rebel line rises and delivers its fire.
+
+The smoke swallows everything.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold the
+battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing rebels; and
+now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the regiment in
+disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and rushes for the
+battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give way ... they
+run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ... and the cavalry ride
+from, the woods, and ride straight through our flying men and strike ...
+and many of the fugitives fire upon the horsemen, who in turn flee for
+their lives.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is smoke.
+Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows; crowds of
+wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ... the men madly
+lash the horses.
+
+"_Bat-tal-ion_--ATTENTION!"
+
+Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.
+
+"_For-ward_--MARCH!"
+
+The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ... but we are
+moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks are thinning;
+elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a horrid impatience
+seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons ... faster, faster ...
+I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my face--"_Surrender, you
+damned Yankee!_"
+
+
+
+III
+
+I BREAK MY MUSKET
+
+     "And, spite of spite, needs must I rest awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly mob ...
+I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.
+
+The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men had run
+beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each one for
+himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and brigades were
+intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to pursue us, many
+thousands of our men would have fallen into their hands.
+
+In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt
+exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop and
+rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing in our
+rear had ceased.
+
+A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where is the
+company?"
+
+"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as quick as
+you can."
+
+"Tell me who is hurt," said I.
+
+But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to remain where
+I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as to my will, and by
+great effort resolved to rise and run.
+
+At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I heard my
+name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his hand, and heard
+him call me again. I went toward him. It was Willis; he was limping;
+his hat was gone; everything was gone; in fact, he was hardly able
+to march.
+
+"Where are you hit?" I asked.
+
+"The knee," he replied.
+
+"Bad?"
+
+"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain me as it
+did awhile ago."
+
+"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.
+
+"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for men worse
+off than I am."
+
+Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some order, but
+the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken it into their
+heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us were packed
+between the high banks of the roadway which went down toward the creek.
+I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing since five o'clock in
+the morning.
+
+"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let the
+crowd scatter before we go on."
+
+"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow a
+mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any water in
+your canteen?"
+
+"Not a drop," said I.
+
+Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the troops at
+this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the hill, where the
+road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater space; some of them
+followed their leaders straight ahead on the road; others went to the
+right and left, seeking to avoid the crowd.
+
+"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.
+
+"What for?"
+
+"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."
+
+"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"
+
+"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and I can
+stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."
+
+"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."
+
+He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely too,
+although, at every step he groaned with pain.
+
+I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just a
+little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will was
+good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He was a
+strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a bullock.
+So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to a wounded
+comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him, especially since
+he showed such determination to save himself. Besides, I knew that he
+was quick-witted and country-bred; and I had great hope that he would
+prove more of a help than a hindrance.
+
+We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now running up
+the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow, but the banks were
+high, and in most places steep. Men were crossing at almost all points.
+Slowly following the hurrying groups of twos and threes who had
+outstripped us, we found at length, a place that seemed fordable for
+Willis. It was where a small branch emptied into the creek; and by
+getting into the branch, above its mouth, and following its course, we
+should be able to cross the creek.
+
+"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have muddied the
+branch; it's as bad as the creek."
+
+"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.
+
+"No," said he; "it would make us sick."
+
+"But what else can we do?"
+
+"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.
+
+All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet
+shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I hoped
+that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good than
+harm--that time would be saved, in effect.
+
+A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the water clear.
+I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it, and food. Willis
+lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled my canteen; I handed
+it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and drank.
+
+The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we might have
+remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant poplar had been
+uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall an opening in, the
+undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, and the boughs,
+intermingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at our
+backs and completely screened from view.
+
+Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the canteen again,
+and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much swollen; just under
+the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this I washed away, using all
+the gentle care at my command, but giving him, nevertheless, great pain.
+A small round hole was now sean, and by gently pressing on its walls, I
+thought I detected the presence of the ball.
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more than half
+an inch, deep."
+
+"Then pull it out," said Willis,
+
+That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on his back,
+eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my mouth with
+hardtack and pork.
+
+I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an obstacle
+was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so small that I
+conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, the rebels using,
+as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded with buck-and-ball
+cartridges.
+
+"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; suppose I
+get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for you? Maybe
+you'd lose too much blood."
+
+"I want it out," said Willis.
+
+"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no good.
+Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my business is to
+let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."
+
+"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."
+
+The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.
+
+"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything of that
+kind."
+
+"You refuse?"
+
+"I positively refuse," said I.
+
+We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low rumbling
+was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon train.
+
+Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and kneaded
+some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my shirt, and tore
+it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened out, I applied a
+handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I wrapped the cloths
+around the knee, at every fold smearing the bandage with clay. I hardly
+knew why I did this, unless with the purpose of keeping the knee-joint
+from bending; when the clay should become dry and hard the joint would
+be incased in a stiff setting which I hoped would serve for splints.
+Willis approved the treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains,
+and might be good for wounds.
+
+I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could hardly
+move.
+
+"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."
+
+He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft earth;
+after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better without it."
+Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his weight.
+
+I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the stock of
+which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters J.B. I broke
+the stock with one blow of the barrel against the poplar log.
+
+I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our way
+through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our knees and
+seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the further bank was
+achieved, but with great difficulty.
+
+[Illustration: BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861]
+
+We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling. We saw
+no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much and painful
+toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day showed us a small
+field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his blanched face showing
+his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.
+
+It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more, and I
+decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the field I had
+seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them. At the bottom of
+the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The work took but a minute.
+Willis was looking on dully; he was on the bare ground, utterly done for
+with pain and weariness. At length, he asked, "What's that for?"
+
+"For you," I replied.
+
+He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at the same
+time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and pulled the
+overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually to conceal him
+from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and haversack and
+placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my throat, I bade
+him good-by.
+
+"Jones," said he, "God bless you."
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to return and
+get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get help, I will
+come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow you do not see me,
+you must act for the best. It may become necessary for you to show
+yourself and surrender, in order to get your wound properly treated; all
+this country will be ransacked by the rebel cavalry before
+to-morrow night."
+
+"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road which we
+had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road a mile or
+more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick clouds gave
+warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the same circuitous
+road by which we had advanced in the morning--was not to take the
+nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the Warrenton turnpike, but
+all I knew was that it was somewhere to my right. I determined to make
+my way as rapidly as I could in that direction through the fields
+and thickets.
+
+For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake, when
+suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went cautiously
+in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.
+
+By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined against
+the sky.
+
+I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness rattling;
+still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it was a wagon, was
+toward me.
+
+I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no need
+for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private carriage;
+it certainly is not an army wagon."
+
+I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and had
+opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice which I
+had heard before, and which, stupefied me with astonishment.
+
+"Is that you, Jones?"
+
+I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my
+supposition must be impossible.
+
+A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in his
+mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt as
+though in the presence of a miracle.
+
+"I have been seeking you," he said.
+
+
+
+IV
+
+A PERSONAGE
+
+     "I cannot tell
+     What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye
+     Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think. The
+happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat of the
+Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted, despairing,
+heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded friend, still far from
+safety myself, with no physical desire remaining except the wish to lie
+down and be at rest forever, and with no moral feeling in my
+consciousness except that of shame,--which will forever rise uppermost
+in me when I think of that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by
+the man whom I held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had
+believed, was never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the
+verge of the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the debris
+of the rout, while groping, as it were, on my lone way to security
+scarcely hoped for--it was too much; I sank down on the road.
+
+How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few moments.
+
+The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said he; "you
+are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with us."
+
+Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me the flask
+of brandy."
+
+When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before him.
+
+"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must get
+Willis."
+
+"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed, from the
+direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had reached the
+field hospital. Where is Willis now?"
+
+I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were in the
+stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily alarmed on
+hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name; then, hearing no
+answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is Jones, with help!" But
+there was no response.
+
+We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get him
+awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him up
+bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the vehicle.
+
+And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back and
+slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it was six in
+the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the midst of a driving
+rain. There were two seats in the ambulance, besides a double-deck, that
+is to say, two floors for wounded to lie upon. I scrambled to the
+rear seat.
+
+We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was crowded.
+There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on horseback or in
+carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers single and in groups
+swelled the procession, some of them with their arms in slings; how they
+had achieved the long night march I cannot yet comprehend.
+
+Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open, but he was
+awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.
+
+Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded sleepily,
+although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary, looked fresh
+and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I could almost have
+believed that he had become younger than he had been when I parted with
+him in Charleston, more than three years before. He knew that I was
+observing him, for he said, without turning his face toward me, "You
+have not slept well, Jones; but you did not know when we stopped at
+Fairfax; we rested the horses there for an hour."
+
+"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully down."
+
+"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.
+
+"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of the
+country?"
+
+"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.
+
+I did not reply at once.
+
+"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the people
+of the United States, including those of the seceded States? Do you mean
+the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes American
+civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult matters now.
+We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and then arrange for
+your comfort."
+
+"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my devouring
+curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on the
+battlefield."
+
+"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you there is
+no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately, as an agent
+of the United States Sanitary Commission."
+
+"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you felt no
+interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in Charleston in
+'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe. And then, too, how
+could you know that I was on such a part of the battlefield, and that
+Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"
+
+"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
+afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being in
+America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer all talk
+of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with Sergeant Willis,
+and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men of your regiment gave
+me that information."
+
+I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the miscellaneous file
+of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else that was now blocked on
+the bridge,
+
+At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily find the
+place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a mile from the
+spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am certain that I could
+not have found the place."
+
+"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively easy
+for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all day to
+help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason that he knows
+every nook and corner of that part of the country."
+
+After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia College
+Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before learning that
+his wound was not difficult.
+
+"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will see to
+it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take that time to
+set you right, especially as I can see that you have some traces of
+nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent your becoming ill."
+
+"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"
+
+"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody authorized
+to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own; by to-morrow all
+the routed troops will be in or near Washington; then I shall simply
+write a note, if you insist upon it, to the commanding officer of your
+company, explaining Willis's absence and your connection with his case,
+and take on myself the responsibility for your return to your command."
+
+"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
+accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"
+
+"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor; "some of
+your men will not report to their commands for a week. You will be ready
+for your company before your company is ready for you."
+
+"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all military
+requirement."
+
+He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his hand.
+
+"Well, what do you think of this?"
+
+It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company and
+regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for ten days.
+I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his kindness.
+
+"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the best of
+quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized that we have not
+yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our affairs; in fact, my
+work yesterday was rather the work of a volunteer than the work of the
+Commission. Our tents are now beyond Georgetown Heights; in a few days
+we shall move our camps, and shall increase our comfort."
+
+The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets. The
+sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and soldiers; wagons,
+guns, caissons, ambulances; companies, spick-and-span, which, had not
+yet seen service; ones, twos, threes, squads of men who had escaped from
+the disaster of the 21st, unarmed, many of them, without
+knapsacks, haggard.
+
+At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind which
+stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished fugitives.
+The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians looked their anxiety.
+A general officer rode by, surrounded by the remnant of his staff, heads
+bent down, gloomy. Women wept while serving the hungry. The unfinished
+dome of the Capitol, hardly seen through the rain, loomed ominous.
+Depression over all: ambulances full of wounded men, tossing and
+groaning; fagged-out horses, vehicles splashed with mud; policemen
+dazed, idle; newsboys crying their merchandise; readers eagerly
+reading--not to know the result to the army, but the fate of some loved
+one; stores closed; whispers; doom.
+
+I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he got out of
+the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman gave him coffee,
+which he brought to me, and made me drink. He returned to the table and
+gave back the cup. The woman looked toward the ambulance. She was a tall
+young woman, serious, dignified. She impressed me.
+
+We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were four
+wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The ambulance
+stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of the tents; he
+pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," said he; "go to sleep;
+you shall not be disturbed."
+
+"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."
+
+"Why not?"
+
+"My mind will not let me."
+
+"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you are
+getting on."
+
+I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, pulling a
+sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.
+
+I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the First
+Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the woods. I saw the
+rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar log in a thicket;--a
+purple wound--wet clay;--a broken rifle;--stacks of straw.
+
+Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? for the
+cause? What is to defend Washington?
+
+Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would be
+anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I rose.
+
+"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so overwhelmed by
+this great calamity that I had not thought of telegraphing to my father.
+Can you get a messenger here?"
+
+"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing that you
+are safe."
+
+"You?"
+
+"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to sleep; by
+the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your father."
+
+"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can sleep."
+
+"Let me feel your pulse."
+
+Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the side of
+the bed.
+
+"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse, he said
+softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder that you are
+wrought up."
+
+He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through my hair.
+
+
+
+V
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP
+
+
+     "Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,
+     But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the afternoon
+of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept dreamlessly.
+
+On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I hastily tore
+it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe. Continue to do
+your duty." My heart swelled,
+
+I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under a tree,
+near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an awning, or fly,
+beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a woman was sitting in a
+chair, reading. I thought I had seen her before, and looking more
+closely I recognized the woman who had given the Doctor a cup of coffee
+on Pennsylvania Avenue.
+
+The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have rested well,"
+said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."
+
+I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that I was
+not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation of the
+young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was shame that I
+had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about her.
+
+"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with, a
+smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying out
+"Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.
+
+"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you have had
+nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked yourself while
+bandaging--"
+
+"What do you know about that?" I asked.
+
+"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As for Lydia
+and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and you must not
+expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to, my boy. I know that
+you have eaten nothing to-day."
+
+There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I did not
+wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the talks of my
+friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat merely for the purpose
+of keeping me in countenance.
+
+"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"
+
+"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is not
+four years since we saw him."
+
+These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had left her
+a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was a woman of
+fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not resemble her
+father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast of feature. Her
+dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his straight black hair; her
+eyes were not his; her stature was greater than his. Yet there were
+points of resemblance. Her manner was certainly very like the Doctor's,
+and many times a fleeting expression was identical with, the Doctor's
+habitually perfect repose.
+
+She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot remember
+anything of her dress. I only know that it was unpretentious
+and charming.
+
+Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to indicate great
+intelligence; her complexion was between dark and fair, and betokened
+health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little large perhaps. She had an
+air of seriousness--her only striking peculiarity. One might have
+charged her with masculinity, but in this respect only: she was far
+above the average woman in dignity of manner and in consciousness of
+attainment. She could talk seriously of men and things.
+
+I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could only
+manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that she had a
+great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly boy she had
+known in Charleston.
+
+She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my third
+cup of coffee.
+
+"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something about our
+life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three sentences."
+
+"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can speak
+four."
+
+"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over you very
+carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the hospital
+surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your extinction."
+
+"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"
+
+"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.
+
+"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not talkative,
+but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to sleep."
+
+The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes shone. He
+did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at Lydia. For the
+time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her father's. I ate. I
+thanked my stars for the conversation that was covering my ignoble
+performance.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of Willis?"
+
+"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it was only a
+buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."
+
+"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"
+
+"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full credit
+for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage you
+gave him."
+
+"Was it the correct practice?"
+
+"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but under the
+circumstances we must pardon you."
+
+"How long will the sergeant be down?"
+
+"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and his
+state of mind."
+
+"What's the matter with his mind?"
+
+"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western world."
+
+I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head was the
+same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the tents.
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday will
+prove to be the crisis of the war."
+
+"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South will
+win?"
+
+"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter which side
+shall win?"
+
+"Doctor, you are a strange man!"
+
+"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the point. I
+ask what difference it would make whether the North or South
+should succeed."
+
+"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably? What are
+we doing here?"
+
+"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always wrong;
+going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted policy; every
+wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."
+
+"Even when war is forced upon us?"
+
+"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make war; if one
+refuses, the other cannot make war."
+
+"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to war on
+the whole; but what was left for the North to do? Acknowledge the right
+of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the loss of all Federal
+property in the Southern States? Tamely endure without resentment the
+attack on Sumter?"
+
+"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than that you
+resist."
+
+Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without
+ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you
+good night."
+
+"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you must know
+that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to the Commission,
+and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is on duty to-night at
+the College Hospital. I think she will have her hands full."
+
+"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked, looking my
+admiration.
+
+"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can easily see
+him if you wish."
+
+"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see
+him--to-morrow, if possible."
+
+Lydia started off down the hill.
+
+"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it is but
+a short distance down there."
+
+The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was not
+new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war is
+wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent war? A
+nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I could not
+doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should now or ever see
+itself broken up, then farewell to American liberties; farewell to the
+hopes of peoples against despotism. To refuse war, to tamely allow the
+South to withdraw and set up a government of her own, would be but the
+beginning of the end; at the first grievance California, Massachusetts,
+any State, could and would become independent. No; war must come; the
+Union must be preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for
+my part, I could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war
+was forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice?
+War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down to-day, but
+Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is lost, but all is
+not lost.
+
+"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to be the
+crisis of the war?"
+
+"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and will be
+well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a wholesome one.
+Your government now knows the enormous work it has to do. We shall now
+see preparation commensurate with the greatness of the work. Three
+months' volunteers are already a thing of the past. This war might have
+been avoided; all war might be avoided; but this war has not been
+avoided; America will be at war for years to come."
+
+I was silent.
+
+"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is ordered to
+report immediately in person to the war department."
+
+"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but what has
+McDowell done to deserve this?"
+
+"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general that fails
+finds it so; McClellan may find it so."
+
+"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."
+
+"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look things
+squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan will fail.
+I think, however, that there will be many failures, and much injustice
+done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily tolerated--any
+injustice that will bring success; success is demanded--not justice.
+Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and brought failure; wholesale
+murder that brings success is what is demanded by this
+superstitious people."
+
+"Why do you say superstitious?"
+
+"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it changes;
+it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has what he calls
+a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he changes his policy,
+and very frequently changes just as the cards change to suit his former
+play. You are now changing to McClellan, simply because McDowell has had
+bad luck and McClellan good luck. I do not know that McClellan's good
+luck will continue. War and cards are alike, and they are unlike."
+
+"How alike and unlike?"
+
+"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the long
+run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also destroys chance,
+and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side loses less than the
+other. In games, the result of one play cannot be foretold; in war, the
+result of one battle cannot be foretold. In games and in war the general
+result can be foretold; in the one there will be a balance and in the
+other there will be destruction. Even the winner in war is ruined
+morally, just as is the gambler."
+
+"And can you foretell the result of this war?"
+
+"Conditionally."
+
+"How conditionally?"
+
+"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her people
+become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of her nominal
+success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must suffer largely,
+just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for the crime of
+yesterday."
+
+"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."
+
+"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but certainly
+useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove salutary for
+your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to war must learn
+from misfortune."
+
+"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a change in
+generals?"
+
+"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship, and that
+is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned. The advance
+should not have been made, but he was ordered to make it. We now know
+that Beauregard's army was reenforced by Johnston's; it was impossible
+not to see that it could be so reenforced, as the Confederates had the
+interior line. The real fault in the campaign is not McDowell's. His
+plan was scientific; his battle was better planned than was his
+antagonist's; he outgeneralled Beauregard clearly, and failed only
+because of a fact that is going to be impressed frequently upon the
+Northern mind in this war; that fact is that the Southern troops do not
+know when they are beaten. McDowell defeated Beauregard, so far as those
+two are concerned; but his army failed, and he must be sacrificed; the
+North ought, however, to sacrifice the army."
+
+"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially unjust and
+narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you cannot do what you
+know to be just. You act under compulsion, having yielded your freedom.
+A losing general is sacrificed, regardless of his real merit."
+
+"Was it so in Washington's case?"
+
+"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been, defeated at
+Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed, the colonies had
+given up the struggle."
+
+"And independence would have been lost?"
+
+"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American independence."
+
+For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most of it,
+and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views of the
+immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He rose at last,
+and left me thinking of his strange personality and wondering why,
+holding such views, be should throw his energies into either side.
+
+He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He waited as
+I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said for answer, as
+if still thinking of our conversation:--
+
+"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine circumstances
+in which your peculiar powers of memory would accomplish more genuine
+good than could a thousand bayonets; good night."
+
+Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter. Then, I lay
+down, oppressed with thought.
+
+
+
+VI
+
+THE USES OF INFIRMITY
+
+     "There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before;
+     The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;
+     What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more;
+     On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."
+
+    --BROWNING.
+
+The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The Doctor
+said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's house in
+Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request that I should
+come to see him.
+
+"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the Doctor, "and
+if you do not object I shall drive you down."
+
+On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of the
+capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia hills
+and was intrenching rapidly. Reenforcements were being hurried to
+Washington, and a new call for volunteers would at once be made. General
+McClellan would arrive in a few days; much was expected of his ability
+to create and discipline an army.
+
+"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr. Khayme;
+"it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have practically a
+leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure that rest will do you
+good. By the way, President Lincoln will visit the troops at Arlington
+to-day; if you like, I shall be glad to take you over."
+
+I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my desire to
+return to my post of duty as soon as possible.
+
+We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions and then
+passed into the office.
+
+Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I should be a
+prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a friend, or when it is
+in his power to do you a service."
+
+"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two. What shall
+I say to the boys for you?"
+
+"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already. The
+surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks at the
+outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"
+
+"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not seen
+their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a good many
+wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river, and I have not
+seen a man of the company except you. I am very anxious."
+
+"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it will be
+some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer man, Jones; I
+believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter who came in here
+last night?"
+
+"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"
+
+"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment I
+thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should ever
+again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to Dr. Khayme
+once more about this matter. Although he had advised me in Charleston
+never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last night, referred to
+it himself.
+
+"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for you?"
+
+"No, I think not."
+
+"You are able to write your own letters?"
+
+"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."
+
+"Well, good-by."
+
+"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones. I'll be
+with the boys again before long."
+
+In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the Doctor and
+Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of her promise to
+tell me something about her life in the East.
+
+"Where shall I begin?" she asked,
+
+"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left Charleston."
+
+"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any thought of
+going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get ready for a
+long journey."
+
+"When was that?" I asked.
+
+"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation, and a good
+while after you left."
+
+"It must have been in September, then."
+
+"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."
+
+"I suppose you were very glad to go."
+
+"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so suddenly
+that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that grieved me."
+
+"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"
+
+"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."
+
+"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"
+
+"Yes; she died while we were in India."
+
+"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"
+
+"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to
+Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not more
+than an hour or two."
+
+"How long did you stay in Paris?"
+
+"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us for two
+or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for Bombay."
+
+"And so you were in India most of the time while you were abroad?"
+
+"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."
+
+"In Bombay?"
+
+"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the time."
+
+"Did you go to school?"
+
+"Yes," she said, smiling.
+
+Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the trees. I
+told him of my wish to return to my company.
+
+"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.
+
+"I think I am fit for duty," said I.
+
+"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.
+
+"Then why are you reluctant?"
+
+"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a
+narrower risk than your condition now would show."
+
+"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"
+
+"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might; the
+weather is very warm."
+
+"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard on me."
+
+"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your depression has
+gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not oppose your going."
+
+I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do you
+remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think it
+advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of them?"
+
+"Yes," he replied,
+
+"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar powers."
+
+"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of them."
+
+"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a
+recurrence of my trouble?"
+
+"I had at least suspected it."
+
+"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.
+
+"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted. Then,
+with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything is relative;
+your memory, taking it generally, is better than that of some, and
+poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your peculiar periods,
+it is in some features far stronger than the average memory, and in
+other features it is weaker; have you not known this?"
+
+"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is definite,
+if it has been formed in a lapse."
+
+"But in respect to other matters than objects?"
+
+"You mean as to thought?"
+
+"Yes--speculation."
+
+"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation, that is,
+anything not an established fact."
+
+"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article written
+to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it in one of your
+'states'?"
+
+"Not at all," said I.
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question; would you
+remember it?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a seceded
+State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth of the
+controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your 'states,' remember
+the discussion?"
+
+"No; certainly not."
+
+"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the period
+affected by your memory?"
+
+"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."
+
+"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your 'states,'
+toward unsettled questions."
+
+"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the other."
+
+"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed question?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an opinion
+upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it from new
+material, or repeated material, of thought."
+
+"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow you are
+in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw a
+conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when you have
+recovered the chain of your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"
+
+"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the fact
+that I had formerly decided the matter."
+
+"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made while in
+a lapse?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people call them,
+would still be undoubted?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you when you
+recover?"
+
+"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they were
+present."
+
+"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one period
+you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful you gain in
+intensity of fact?"
+
+"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one causes
+the gain of the other."
+
+"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your faculty is
+quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You know that the
+hearing of the blind is very acute."
+
+"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good thing."
+
+"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater value than
+sight?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one who could
+see."
+
+"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind nor deaf,
+nor am I a scout."
+
+"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value at one
+time than another."
+
+"Oh, yes; I suppose so."
+
+"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a moment that
+there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout; I have merely
+instanced a possible case in which hearing is more valuable than sight,
+and we have agreed that memory is worth, more at times than at other
+times. I should like to relieve you, moreover, of any fears that you,
+may have in regard to the continuance of your infirmity--as you insist
+on thinking it. Cases like yours always recover."
+
+"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique," said I;
+"but I thought he said it only to comfort me."
+
+"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have such
+cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer. Averroes himself
+clearly refers to such a case."
+
+"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the sound of
+his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well with,
+our people."
+
+"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your own
+prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by John on
+Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less wonderful
+than, yours."
+
+"They were miracles," said I.
+
+"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without waiting for
+me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and do happen every
+year to men's minds than this which has happened to yours; men lose
+their minds utterly for a time, and then recover their faculties
+entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men can be changed in an
+hour, by the use of a drug, into different creatures, if we are to judge
+by the record their own consciousness gives them."
+
+"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me without
+a drug and in a moment."
+
+"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic records
+which will forever relieve you of the belief that your condition is
+unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it which I hope will
+prove valuable; but as to its being the one only case of the general--"
+
+"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I
+interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell me why
+you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness of the
+condition at the same time. If the condition may prove useful, why
+change it?"
+
+"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously, "there
+are many things in nature which show their greatest worth only at the
+moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection of memory is, I
+repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in order that another
+function may be strengthened--and all for a purpose."
+
+"What is that purpose?"
+
+"I cannot tell you."
+
+"Why can you not?"
+
+"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the usefulness
+of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might say, in order
+to encourage you, that it will probably be given to you to serve your
+country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how and when, you must
+leave it to the future to show."
+
+"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my trouble?"
+
+"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my judgment,
+require that your recovery should follow the period concerning which
+your factitious memory is brightest."
+
+"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable way?" I
+said, wondering.
+
+"Wait," said he.
+
+The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on duty this
+night. She had listened gravely to what had been said. Now she looked up
+with a faint smile, which I thought meant that she was willing for me to
+talk to her and yet reluctant to be the first to speak, not knowing
+whether I had need of silence. I had begun to have a high opinion of
+Lydia's character.
+
+"And you went to school in Bombay?"
+
+"Yes, at first."
+
+I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I suppose
+my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently continued.
+
+"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know that I am a
+nurse with some training. Father was very willing for me to become a
+nurse, for he said that there would be war in America, and that nurses
+would be needed."
+
+Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick asked me
+to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I was unable to
+tell him."
+
+"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.
+
+I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the very day on
+which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not return to
+Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my affliction disturbed
+me so that I could not readily continue my part of the conversation,
+and Lydia soon retired.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report to my
+company."
+
+"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience; I shall
+see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this part of the
+country for a long time, and it will not be difficult for you to get
+leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I am thinking of
+moving our camp nearer to you."
+
+
+
+VII
+
+A SECOND DISASTER
+
+     "Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.
+     And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard, and picket
+duty and digging.
+
+The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's quarters were a
+mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent visitor at his tents.
+After Willis's return to duty, which was in November, he and I spent
+much of our spare time at the Sanitary camp. It was easy to see what
+attracted Jake. It did not seem to me that Dr. Khayme gave much thought
+to the sergeant, but Lydia gravely received his adoration silently
+offered, and so conducted herself in his presence that I was puzzled
+greatly concerning their relations. I frequently wondered why the
+sergeant did not confide in me; we had become very intimate, so that in
+everything, except his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom
+friend, so to speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.
+
+One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the Doctor's
+tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be with us. The
+Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation, however, at his
+pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I wondered if it could be
+because of Willis's absence. It seemed to me impossible that this
+dignified woman could entertain a passion for the sergeant, who, while
+of course a very manly fellow, and a thorough soldier in his way,
+surely was not on a level with Miss Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew
+and felt keenly that until my peculiar mental phases should leave me
+never to return, love and marriage were impossible--so the very truth
+was, and always had been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any
+incipient desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition
+encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own mind,
+and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated until--I
+suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern myself, I
+drew back from every obstacle which my judgment pronounced
+insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help to me in this
+development of the will, and especially in that phase or exercise of it
+called self-control; one of his common sayings was, "He who resists the
+inevitable increases evil."
+
+Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance, Dr.
+Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect to me,
+and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many times in our
+recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was the man's insight.
+The power that he exercised over me I submitted to gratefully; I felt
+that he was a man well fitted for counselling youth, and I had so many
+proofs of his good-will, even of his affection, that I trusted him fully
+in regard to myself; yet, with all this, I felt that his great
+knowledge, and especially his wonderful alertness of judgment, which
+amounted in many cases seemingly to prophetic power almost, were
+doubtful quantities in relation to the war. I believed that he was
+admitted to high council; I had frequent glimpses of
+intimations--seemingly unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand
+circumstances and projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow,
+from a look, or a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached
+the opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the
+contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety. The
+news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the heart of
+the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no distress, to
+judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it is but just to
+repeat that he showed great interest in every event directly relating to
+the existence of slavery. He commended the acts of General Butler in
+Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri, and hoped that the Southern
+leaders would impress all able-bodied slaves into some sort of service,
+so that they would become at least morally subject to the act of
+Congress, approved August 6, which declared all such persons discharged
+from previous servitude. In comparing my own attitude to the war with
+the Doctor's, I frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union,
+and I cared everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human
+slavery, while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that
+matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the Congress
+or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery without the
+consent of the party of the first part. I was in the war not on account
+of slavery, certainly, but on account of the preservation of the Union;
+Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he was in it at all--not for the
+Union, but for the abolition of slavery.
+
+On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and occasionally
+gave utterance to some thought.
+
+"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West; Grant
+advances."
+
+"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my reply.
+
+"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has the help
+of the navy."
+
+"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.
+
+"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove insufficient; if
+the North succeeds in this war, and I see no reason to doubt her success
+if she will but determine to succeed, it will be through her navy."
+
+I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat looking
+dreamily at the door of the stove.
+
+After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February is a
+spring month in the South."
+
+The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are bad."
+
+"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"
+
+"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he gets the
+help of the navy."
+
+"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"
+
+"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.
+
+I had already heard some talk of differences between our general and the
+President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac to Fortress
+Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance on Richmond by the
+Peninsular route, as it was called.
+
+"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at least," he
+added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well convinced of it that I
+shall make preparation at once to remove my camp to some good place near
+Fort Monroe."
+
+This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress. What I
+should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not know; I
+should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my friends sadly.
+
+"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him and
+looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.
+
+"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe we can
+take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your regiment."
+
+Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I wished for a
+chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw none.
+
+"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I should
+like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of absence?"
+
+"Where there is a will there is a way."
+
+"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and to
+spare."
+
+"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"
+
+"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble, unless
+things change very greatly meanwhile."
+
+I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The weather was
+mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk somewhat
+carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled and fell, and
+bruised my back.
+
+The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely cold. A
+bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow and rain and
+sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating with four hours'
+relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six o'clock, when I was
+finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I reached my quarters, I
+went to bed at once and fell into a half sleep.
+
+Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me, with his
+hand on my temples.
+
+"You have had too much of it," said he.
+
+I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great pain
+followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.
+
+The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but dreaded
+that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being occupied by
+four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my messmates except
+Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The surgeon of the
+Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.
+
+For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every day--on
+some days several times. Lydia never came.
+
+One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a litter and
+borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My father came. This
+was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They became greatly attached.
+
+My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me whenever he
+was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to simple care, in which
+Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read to me at times--but for
+short times, as the Doctor forbade my prolonged attention, I was not
+quite sure that Lydia was doing me good; I liked the sound of her voice,
+yet when she would cease reading I felt more nervous than before, and I
+could not remember what she had read. So far as I could see, there was
+no understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that I
+saw them together.
+
+One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us that he
+would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good hands," said he,
+"and my business demands my care; I shall always have you in
+remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."
+
+The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with pillows
+and blankets.
+
+"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever since he
+received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has been my
+best friend."
+
+"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a letter,"
+said my father.
+
+"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in which
+you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor gave me the
+letter; I have it at home, somewhere."
+
+The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.
+
+Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and battles
+in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been kept from you.
+On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry, which success led ten
+days later to the surrender of Buckner's army at Fort Donelson."
+
+"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the last time
+I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked about Grant's
+coming successes!"
+
+"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the Doctor.
+
+"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he certainly
+would not fail."
+
+"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.
+
+On the day following that on which my father left us, I was sitting in a
+folding chair, trying to read for the first time since my illness began.
+
+Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my boy," said
+he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."
+
+"Go where, Doctor?"
+
+"To Fort Monroe," said he.
+
+"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"
+
+"Yes, we'll go."
+
+"What are we going there for?"
+
+"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"
+
+"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"
+
+"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General
+McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort Monroe,
+and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."
+
+"Yes, I begin to remember."
+
+"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's urgent
+arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as transportation can be
+provided for such an operation; it will take weeks yet."
+
+"And you are going to move down there?"
+
+"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to go with
+me; don't you want to go?"
+
+"Yes; that I do," said I.
+
+"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said the
+Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready for duty by
+the time your regiment comes."
+
+Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on, but she
+came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was certainly
+pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were brighter. She began
+at once to get together some loose things, although we had several days
+in which to make our preparations. I could not keep from laughing at
+her; at the same time I felt that my amusement was caused by her
+willingness to get away for a time from the army, rather than by
+anything else.
+
+"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.
+
+"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have the habit
+of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry and fluster when
+the time comes." Her face was very bright.
+
+"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said I.
+
+She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to
+severity, and she went out.
+
+That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we were to
+go; he was very blank.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched near
+Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me. I sat
+outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the help of the
+Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat unwillingly--I
+walked a little. These were happy days; I had nothing to do but to
+convalesce. The Southern climate has always helped me. I was
+recovering fast.
+
+I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we talked of
+everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to both of us,
+though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with his advanced
+thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its probable results.
+
+"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be
+preserved."
+
+I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though I had
+had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear this
+speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North, and I
+felt relieved.
+
+"Continue," I begged.
+
+"You know that I have said many times that the war is unnecessary; that
+all war is crime."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a crime and
+must be suppressed."
+
+"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."
+
+"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both these views
+are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime: these are two
+truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and say that the North
+is right and the South is right."
+
+"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince me that
+both of these statements can be true."
+
+"Well, are you ready to listen?"
+
+"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are right?
+Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are speaking of
+crime, not virtue."
+
+"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are speaking; but
+in regard to the principles upon which they seem to differ, they are
+right, and these are what I wish to speak of."
+
+"Well, I listen, Doctor."
+
+"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power than
+General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."
+
+"Agreed."
+
+"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even eternal,
+purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the power is
+infinite."
+
+"I follow you."
+
+"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it purpose
+what it will not execute."
+
+"Please illustrate, Doctor."
+
+"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of making a
+world should make a comet."
+
+"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen to be in
+a fair way of becoming a world."
+
+"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or failure."
+
+"Yes; I see, or think I do."
+
+"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and slavery a
+crime. Two truths cannot clash."
+
+"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery into
+existence, and war, also?"
+
+"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules and works
+beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns them into means
+for advancing His cause."
+
+"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true. But I do
+not see how the South can be right."
+
+"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?" asked
+Lydia, suddenly.
+
+It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the beach.
+
+"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they see
+something that interests them."
+
+Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the wind
+blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us were looking
+intently through their field-glasses.
+
+"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I return."
+
+We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a glass; he
+looked, and came back to us rapidly.
+
+"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a glass," said
+he.
+
+"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.
+
+"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.
+
+"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she will."
+
+"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.
+
+"No; what do you mean?"
+
+"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron steamer
+which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she replied.
+
+"Iron?"
+
+"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with iron,
+so that it cannot be injured."
+
+"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships remain here?"
+
+The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a vessel
+off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia took the
+glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the _Merrimac!_ what a
+strange-looking ship!"
+
+The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the shore were
+fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed, throughout the
+prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and, to all seeming,
+emotionless.
+
+Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With the
+unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of them were
+but a very short distance from us.
+
+The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until I
+needed rest; I sat on the ground.
+
+Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three ships
+moving up toward the two which were near us.
+
+The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The design of
+the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe between.
+
+The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large roof,
+with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward Fortress Monroe.
+
+Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships near
+Newport News.
+
+The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft; the
+batteries on shore turned loose on her.
+
+Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She was used
+to wounds, but had never before seen battle.
+
+From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down some
+smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too small to
+count for much.
+
+Suddenly the _Merrimac_ fired one gun, still moving on toward our last
+ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and on, and on, and
+struck our ship with her prow, and backed.
+
+The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats kept up
+their fire.
+
+The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which was now
+endeavouring to get away. The _Merrimac_ fired upon her, gun after gun.
+
+Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to fire.
+
+The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she sank, with
+her guns firing as she went down.
+
+Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The Doctor
+observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed heavily, but
+did not speak.
+
+The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship aground; and
+white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.
+
+Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore batteries,
+and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to prevent the
+capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the great craft fired
+again and again into the surrendered vessel, and set her afire.
+
+Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also was
+aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.
+
+The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until she was
+lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning ship was a sheet
+of flame; we could see men leap from her deck; boats put off from
+the shore.
+
+"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.
+
+"I want no food," said I.
+
+"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better when you
+have eaten," he replied.
+
+Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.
+
+Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with excitement,
+gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white. I heard one say,
+"My God! what will become of the _Minnesota_ to-morrow?"
+
+The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have failed.
+
+The burning _Congress_ threw around us a light brighter than the moon;
+each of us had two shadows.
+
+We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so calm?"
+
+"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse;
+besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."
+
+"What is to prevent the _Merrimac_ from destroying our whole fleet and
+then destroying our coast?"
+
+"God!" said Dr. Khayme.
+
+Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in my life
+than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not permit me to
+go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the camps I knew that
+my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, that my experience in
+war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull Run had been but the first
+horror; here was another and possibly a worse one. The East seemed
+propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, of our side, could gain
+victories.
+
+The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense smoke crept
+along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, I knew, was being
+made to get the _Minnesota_ off; nobody could have slept that night.
+
+The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he came in
+finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and now came
+in also.
+
+"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"
+
+"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."
+
+Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.
+
+"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something to
+relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"
+
+"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the better."
+
+"Well, then, the _Merrimac_ will meet her match if she comes out
+to-morrow."
+
+"What do you mean, Doctor?"
+
+"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the _Merrimac,_
+has arrived."
+
+Lydia left the tent.
+
+I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly. I
+started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head, and
+gently pressed me back to my pillow.
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE TWO SOUTHS
+
+     "Yet spake yon purple mountain,
+       Yet said yon ancient wood,
+     That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,
+       Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON
+
+About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to shake
+the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled dreams.
+
+I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were ranked
+against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of the
+soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in the other
+army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no soldier could say
+which flags were his. The men intermingled and fought, and, not able to
+know enemy from friend, slew friend and enemy, and slew until but two
+opponents remained; these two shook hands, and laughed, and I saw their
+faces; and the face of one was the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of
+the other I did not know.
+
+Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had dreamed
+true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were false. In my
+ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I had judged that it
+would be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true.
+So this dream passed for the time from my mind.
+
+We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. Lydia
+looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we expected a
+trial to our nerves.
+
+After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we
+went to a sand-hill near the beach.
+
+To the south of the _Minnesota_ now lay a peculiar vessel. No one had
+ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a
+big round cistern--such as are seen in the South and West--amidships,
+and a very big box or barrel on one end.
+
+The _Merrimac_ was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the
+batteries and on the dunes.
+
+The _Monitor_ remained near the _Minnesota_; the _Merrimac_ came on.
+From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the
+sound of heavy guns. The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every
+manoeuvre could be seen.
+
+The _Merrimac_ looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the
+other was quicker.
+
+They fought for hours, the _Merrimac_ slowly moving past the _Monitor_
+and firing many guns, the _Monitor_ turning quickly and seeming to fire
+but seldom. Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.
+
+At last they parted; the _Monitor_ steamed toward the shore, and the
+great _Merrimac_ headed southward and went away into the distance.
+
+Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little
+group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on
+the issue of the contest depended vast results.
+
+When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not
+tell whether our side had won, but I know that the _Merrimac_ had hauled
+off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of
+us knew. At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the
+_Merrimac_ blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my
+mind the fight had been very unequal.
+
+"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, "and now
+McClellan's army can come without fear."
+
+"Do you think," I asked, "that the _Merrimac_ is so badly done up that
+she will not try it again?"
+
+"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is damaged; but
+of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she could have fought
+longer with hope of victory, she would not have retired; her retreat
+means that she has renounced her best hope."
+
+The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in nearly
+two days. She was still very serious, however. She had become accustomed
+in hospital work to some of the results of battle; now she had witnessed
+war itself.
+
+After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the navy
+would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our fleet that
+would give us a final preponderance over the South.
+
+"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a stupendous
+undertaking could well be."
+
+"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times," said I.
+
+"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more
+restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend upon
+their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."
+
+"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said Lydia.
+
+"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially, thinks
+clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing about states'
+rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though, beats true on the
+slavery question; England will never recognize the South."
+
+"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?" I
+asked,
+
+"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not believe
+that, I should feel no interest in this war."
+
+"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no intention
+of interfering with slavery."
+
+"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been avoided;
+but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar institution
+of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of slavery in the
+South, England would recognize the South. England has no political love
+for the United States, and would not lament greatly the dissolution of
+the Union. The North will be compelled to extinguish slavery in order to
+prevent England from recognizing the South. The Union cannot now be
+preserved except on condition of freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I
+am willing to compromise with you; I am for saving the Union in order to
+destroy slavery, and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order
+to save the Union!
+
+"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will succeed
+unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by constitutional
+means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation; you see how one
+crime always leads to another."
+
+"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for slavery only,
+whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is fighting for
+self-government."
+
+"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is fighting for
+slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. But when we say
+'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we mean. There are two
+Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and their slaves; the other
+is the common people. There never was a greater absurdity taught than
+that which Northern writers and newspapers have spread to the effect
+that in the South there is no middle class. The middle class _is_ the
+South. This is the South that is right and wholesome and strong. The
+North may defeat the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat
+it; but never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for
+which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of truth if
+not the fulness of it.
+
+"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in her
+present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also the North
+is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.
+
+"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will go
+down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, the North
+will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not do it. The
+Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and undeveloped, must
+prevail instead of the Southern idea of individual freedom; but how
+prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that war in which ideas prevail is
+not fought with force. Artillery accomplishes naught. I can fancy a
+battlefield where two great armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on
+this side and on that side are uniformed alike and their flags are
+alike, but they kill each other till none remains, and nothing is
+accomplished except destruction; yet the principle for which each fought
+remains, though all are dead."
+
+For a time I was speechless.
+
+At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and flags
+alike?"
+
+He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their cause,
+and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."
+
+"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.
+
+
+
+IX
+
+KILLING TIME
+
+     "Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent
+with her father.
+
+Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my
+old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody could say
+when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, found roomy
+locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off at Yorktown, and
+with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the country up to our
+pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the Doctor's company time would
+have been heavy on my hands.
+
+About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but no
+Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his camp
+until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that there would
+be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer to Richmond.
+
+On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was willing to
+serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh should come.
+
+"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a few days,"
+he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the troops now here
+are more than are needed, except for future work. Besides, you might do
+better. You have good eyes, and a good memory as long as it lasts; you
+might make a secret examination of the Confederate lines."
+
+"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.
+
+"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"
+
+"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."
+
+"Well, think of it," said he.
+
+"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
+exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did not
+wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I liked the
+thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning the positions
+and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my school days, and
+afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting stories with, eagerness,
+and had worshipped his Witherspoon.
+
+"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.
+
+"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
+possible."
+
+"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to send you
+off properly."
+
+When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by the
+Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But she said
+little, and I could only infer that she might be creating in her brain
+false dangers for a friend.
+
+By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything was ready
+for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober suit of gray
+clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might deceive the eye
+at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate the wearer from any
+suspicion that he was seriously offering himself as a Confederate.
+
+"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it will fit
+you well enough."
+
+It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, purposely,
+had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave me also a
+black felt hat.
+
+"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I answered.
+
+"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial things
+such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be searched nothing
+can be proved. Leave all your money in bills behind; coin will not be
+bad to take; here are a few Confederate notes for you."
+
+"Do I need a pass?"
+
+"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
+Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I
+want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass would
+betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be
+difficult to explain at headquarters."
+
+"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"
+
+"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't know when
+you will get another meal."
+
+At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and reach
+before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, which was
+believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry Island, or Mulberry
+Point; I would then watch for opportunities, and act accordingly, with
+the view of following up the rebel line, or as near to it as possible.
+
+I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon outside the
+guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due north by the
+Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was glad of it. The
+stars gave me enough light. My road was good, level, sandy--a lane
+between two rail fences almost hidden with vines and briers. At my left
+and behind me I could hear the roar of the surf.
+
+When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead, I
+stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our men, or
+rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into a fence
+corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I waited until
+they had passed out of sight, and then rose to continue my tramp, when
+suddenly, before I had made a step, another horseman rode by, following
+the others. If he had looked in my direction, he would have seen me; but
+he passed on with his head straight to the front. I supposed that this
+last man was on duty as the rear of the squad.
+
+Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The party
+of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, and that I
+should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely cautious in going
+forward, not knowing how soon I might run against some scouting party of
+the rebels.
+
+The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy and
+mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small growth.
+The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from studying the
+map before I had set out I had some idea of the general character of the
+country at my right, as well as a pretty accurate notion of the distance
+I must make before I should come near to the first rebel post; though,
+of course, I could not know that such post had not been abandoned, or
+advanced even, within the last few hours.
+
+I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and straight
+ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My senses were alert;
+I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I felt that I was alone
+and dependent upon myself, but the feeling was not greatly oppressive.
+
+Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence running at
+a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not continued to the
+left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence was the junction of
+the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly seen before I started
+that at this junction there was danger of finding a rebel outpost, or of
+falling upon a rebel scouting party, I now became still more cautious,
+moving along half bent on the edge of the road, and at last creeping on
+my hands and knees until I reached the junction.
+
+There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward Little
+Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found nothing, and
+returned to the junction; then continued up the road toward Young's
+Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited frequently by the rebels,
+and my attention became so fixed that I started at the slightest noise.
+The sand's crunching under my feet sounded like the puffing of a
+locomotive. The wind made a slight rippling with the ends of the tie on
+my hat-band, I cut the ends off, to be relieved of the distraction.
+
+I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as well as
+to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to Bethel, at my rear
+and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk into a fence corner, and
+lay perfectly still, listening with all my ears. The noise increased; it
+was clear that horsemen from the Bethel road were coming into the
+junction, a hundred yards in my rear.
+
+The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.
+
+But _had_ they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down the road
+toward Newport News.
+
+Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the hoof-beats
+of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into my fence corner
+and lay flat and still.
+
+It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when life is
+about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant all the deeds
+of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know, at least, that my
+mind had many thoughts in the situation in which I now found myself.
+
+I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were rebels.
+
+They were now but a few yards off.
+
+An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would discover me.
+
+If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen would
+ride me down at once.
+
+If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky, would be
+a mark for many carbines.
+
+If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.
+
+But what could I expect from my companion?
+
+Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had the
+rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were they
+pursuing him?
+
+But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the direction
+of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he not hidden.
+
+If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be to lie
+still.
+
+Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were rebels.
+
+But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If he was
+one of theirs, should I lie still?
+
+No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot at.
+
+If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case, my
+unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let the troops
+pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet of me.
+
+Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel, still the
+question remained whether he had seen me.
+
+It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was a log?
+Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a place;
+there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify the
+existence of a log in this place.
+
+All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while the
+horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces more, I
+had come to a decision.
+
+I had decided to lie still.
+
+There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get away. I
+would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a friend, my case
+might be better than before; if he should prove to be an enemy, I must
+act prudently and try to befool him. I must discover his intentions
+before making mine known. He, also, must be in a great quandary.
+
+The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told whether
+they were from the North or the South by their voices, but they did
+not speak.
+
+There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and, indeed, I
+did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to the ground.
+
+The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.
+
+Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my companion. I was
+right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else he would now rise and
+go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he did not speak; what was the
+matter with him?
+
+But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me, just as I
+was fearing him.
+
+But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was hiding
+from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?
+
+But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his hiding in
+a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the observation of the
+horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence corner was an accident.
+
+Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do something? He
+has no reason to fear me.
+
+But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads
+everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave him.
+
+But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot speak
+to a man who flees and hides? I _will_ speak to him--
+
+"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.
+
+I sat bolt upright; so did he.
+
+"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what is your name?"
+
+"My name Nick."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"
+
+"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."
+
+"You are hiding from the soldiers."
+
+"What sojers, mahsa?"
+
+Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not yet
+know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The night was
+cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had been warm, but
+now I was getting chilly.
+
+Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a
+supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave who
+does not wish to be free is an impossibility.
+
+"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa."
+
+"Then, why did you hide from them?"
+
+"Who, me?"
+
+"Yes; why did you run and hide?"
+
+"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."
+
+This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I must be
+the first to declare myself.
+
+"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say rebels,
+but thought better of it; the word would declare my sympathies. I was
+not so ready, after all.
+
+"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"
+
+Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted negro.
+
+"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."
+
+"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"
+
+Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so. I knew
+that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp servants,
+slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be trustworthy. Who
+could know, after all, that there were no exceptions amongst slaves? My
+doubts became so keen that I should not have believed Nick on his oath.
+He might tell me a lie with the purpose of leading me into a rebel
+camp. I must get rid of him somehow.
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"
+
+"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."
+
+"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a little?"
+
+I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose tobacco in
+one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not know.
+
+"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick hesitated,
+
+"A what?"
+
+"A good man," said Nick.
+
+"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."
+
+"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"
+
+"I want to see some people up there."
+
+Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him into
+the Southern lines? It looked so.
+
+The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might betray me.
+His hesitation was assuring.
+
+I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some people up the
+road."
+
+"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."
+
+"Do you think they will come back soon?"
+
+"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."
+
+"Didn't you come from up the road?"
+
+"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"
+
+This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it; and to
+give him as good.
+
+"Do Southern officers carry guns?"
+
+"You Southern officer, mahsa?"
+
+"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't you know
+that, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.
+
+"What is it, Nick?"
+
+"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."
+
+"What makes you think so, Nick?"
+
+"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on lak you
+is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back to dem
+breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or I'll have you
+strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."
+
+Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be feared. He
+was willing for me to believe that he had run away from the
+Confederates.
+
+"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are enough
+niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like to give you
+a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.
+
+"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"
+
+"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"
+
+"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"
+
+"Go up the road with me," said I.
+
+Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted to
+betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his silence
+to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say, that he
+wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I felt so sure
+of this that I should not have been surprised if he had suddenly set out
+running down the road; yet I supposed that he was still in doubt of my
+character and feared a pistol-shot from me. He was silent so long that I
+fully made up my mind that I could trust him a little.
+
+"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern officer nor
+a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to go to Fortress
+Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first; if you serve me
+well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one day, and I'll make
+it worth your while."
+
+"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me how to
+see the breastworks and not be seen myself."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"
+
+It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he think it
+out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern soldier?
+
+"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will give
+you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you another
+dollar and a chance to make more."
+
+Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the sequel
+showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally, he said
+that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I felt in my
+pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at once closed
+the bargain.
+
+"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be faithful, and
+I will give you another before dark to-morrow."
+
+"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"
+
+"Where is the first Confederate post?"
+
+"You mean dem Southern sojers?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine _up_ de road, or dem dat's fust
+a-comin' _down_ de road?"
+
+"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.
+
+"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.
+
+"Did you see them?"
+
+"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."
+
+"How did you keep them from seeing you?"
+
+"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."
+
+"How long ago was it since you saw them?"
+
+"Sence sundown," said Nick,
+
+"When did you leave the breastworks?"
+
+"Las' night."
+
+"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"
+
+"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might strak
+up wid 'em."
+
+"How far have you come in all?"
+
+"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber swamp all
+day."
+
+"Did you have anything to eat?"
+
+"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."
+
+"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"
+
+"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to eat?"
+
+"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."
+
+"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is almos'
+all done gone to Richmon' er summers[1] en' I don't know w'at we's
+a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do fer sum'hm
+to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer 'bacco nudda."
+
+[1] Somewhere [Ed.].
+
+"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect you to
+find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for it."
+
+We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.
+
+"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it as I
+can get without being seen."
+
+"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.
+
+"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the breastworks. First,
+I want to go to Young's Mill."
+
+"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."
+
+"Two?"
+
+"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de yudda
+one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."
+
+"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.
+
+"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep dis
+straight road."
+
+"But we must not show ourselves," said I.
+
+"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda; des'
+you follow me."
+
+Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a mile, then
+northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the road again.
+
+"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun' de fust
+ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got aroun' 'em,
+'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em agin."
+
+"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"
+
+"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.
+
+We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean death. We
+went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way at a rapid and
+long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in sight. The night was
+getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and there were dense clumps
+of small trees; at the little watercourses there was larger growth. The
+roar of the sea was heard no longer. It must have been about midnight.
+
+We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed ours.
+
+"Stop a little, Nick," said I.
+
+Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a hundred
+yards in every direction.
+
+"Where does that road go?" I asked.
+
+"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole Young's
+Mill."
+
+"How far is old Young's Mill?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+"Where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis Cheeseman's dey is
+calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry, but dey is on de yudda
+side o' de creek."
+
+"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"
+
+"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."
+
+We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road running
+almost west; a church stood on the other side of the road.
+
+"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to Worrick."
+
+"And where does the right-hand lead?"
+
+"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.
+
+"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.
+
+"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off, nudda."
+
+We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick was
+telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was still
+before my mind's eye.
+
+"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I asked.
+
+"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.
+
+"How far this side?"
+
+"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"
+
+"How near can we get to the picket-line?"
+
+"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut down."
+
+"The trees cut down in their front?"
+
+"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."
+
+"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"
+
+"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun' de
+pon'."
+
+"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the
+picket-line?"
+
+"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de picket-line, en'
+de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en' all."
+
+"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your eyes wide
+open."
+
+Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he turned to
+the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and crossed a
+creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see in the darkness
+a great deal better than I could; where I should have groped my way, had
+I been alone, he went boldly enough, putting his foot down flat as
+though he could see where he was stepping. Nick said that there were no
+soldiers in these woods and swamps; they were all on the road and at
+Young's Mill, now a mile at our left.
+
+At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very tired; but,
+not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we should wait by the
+side of the road for a while, to see if any soldiers should pass. We sat
+in the bushes; soon Nick was on his back, asleep, and I was not sorry to
+see him go to sleep so quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have
+done so if he had meant to betray me.
+
+I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single horseman
+came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his sabre
+rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had died away,
+I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At last Nick stopped.
+
+"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.
+
+"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.
+
+"Again? Have we gone wrong?"
+
+"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he
+repeated.
+
+"Where are we?"
+
+"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den w'at you
+gwine to do?"
+
+"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and know how
+many they are."
+
+"Den w'at you gwine to do?"
+
+"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward
+Yorktown."
+
+"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin' out in de
+woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout noth'n' to eat."
+
+"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get an hour
+or two of sleep without freezing?"
+
+"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's w'at you
+gwine to do; come on."
+
+He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through woods, then a
+field, and came to a farmhouse,
+
+"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that house."
+
+"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to Richmon' er
+summers."
+
+The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the place.
+
+Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed up into
+the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose hay in the
+loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick promise to be awake
+before sunrise, for I feared the place would be visited by the rebels.
+
+
+
+X
+
+THE LINE OF THE WARWICK
+
+     "Thus are poor servitors,
+     While others sleep upon their quiet beds,
+     Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."
+    --Shakespeare.
+
+When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep quickly. When
+I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.
+
+I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the sky was
+reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for hours had he
+been alone.
+
+The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food? Useless to
+search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was bare. I asked Nick
+if he could manage in any way to get something to eat. He could not; we
+must starve unless accident should throw food in our way.
+
+A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a long ways
+to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood nor no water."
+
+We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we reached
+it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see dryer
+ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a tree I
+could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the west, with
+the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no movement going
+on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent. I had no
+more tobacco.
+
+I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through the
+woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their line
+crossed the road.
+
+About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of felled
+timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our left. At long
+intervals a man would pass across the road where it struck the
+picket-line.
+
+Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his
+topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line was
+behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an outpost; and
+I was considering whether it would not be best to turn this position on
+the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible, and make for Lee's
+Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient, and see what was above
+that point, when I heard galloping in the road behind us. Nick had heard
+the noise before it reached my ears.
+
+A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and remained
+a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the road toward
+Warwick Court-House.
+
+At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept up as
+near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their knapsacks and
+falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry from down the road;
+they passed through the picket-line, and were soon lost to sight. Then
+the picket marched off up the road. Ten minutes more and half a dozen
+cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of all, I was hoping--and passed on.
+
+The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention of
+getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of
+appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the abandoned
+line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we crawled
+through the felled timber.
+
+The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over the ground
+were the remains of straw beds; some brush arbours--improvised
+shelters--were standing; we found enough broken pieces of hardtack to
+relieve our most pressing want.
+
+I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended within two
+hundred yards of the road.
+
+"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this direction?"
+pointing northwest.
+
+"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said Nick.
+
+"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"
+
+"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."
+
+"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"
+
+"You mean 'long here?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is some
+mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de riber, whah
+Lee's Mill is."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Hit's mos' fo' mile."
+
+"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Riber is deep down below de mill."
+
+"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.
+
+"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."
+
+"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."
+
+"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"
+
+"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at de Pint."
+
+"Up at what Point?"
+
+"Up at de Mulberry Pint."
+
+"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"
+
+"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."
+
+Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the withdrawal
+of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main line beyond the
+Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach the river and follow
+it up--since the rebel line was on its other bank or beyond--I decided
+to let Nick go.
+
+"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more now."
+
+"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"
+
+"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will attend
+closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night, are
+you not?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for me. Will
+you do it?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the rebels catch
+you."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet some Union
+soldiers; then you will be safe."
+
+"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.
+
+"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the rebel
+camp. I gave the paper to Nick.
+
+"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the captain."
+
+"Yassa."
+
+"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must tell him
+that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick Court-House, and that the
+paper is to let him know it."
+
+"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I won't do
+noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."
+
+"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to you."
+
+Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.
+
+My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the Warwick River
+some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits, my cautiousness
+increased, although I expected to find no enemy until I was near the
+mill. I went first as nearly westward as I could know; my purposes were
+to reach the river and roughly ascertain its width and depth; if it
+should be, as Nick had declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth
+would be sufficient protection to the rebels behind it, and I would
+waste no time in examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I
+crept, sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in
+the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either
+crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in the low
+ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left was a cleared
+field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the field a dwelling with
+outhouses. I approached the house, screening myself behind a rail fence.
+The house was deserted. I passed through the yard. There was no sign of
+any living thing, except a pig which scampered away with a loud snort of
+disapproval. The house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows
+were broken, and a mere glance showed me that the place had
+been stripped.
+
+Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the river, for I
+began to fear that I had been rash in coming through the open. Soon I
+struck the river, which here bent in a long curve across the line of my
+march. The river was wide and deep.
+
+At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be little
+need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of this
+unfordable stream.
+
+It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my rear,
+and wondered what could be going on back there.
+
+Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So long as
+I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and the country,
+even away from the river, was much wooded. My knowledge of the map
+placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and northeast I went, but for
+fully three hours I kept on and found no river again. I felt sure that I
+had leaned too far to the east, and was about to turn square to my left
+and seek the river, when I saw before me a smaller stream flowing
+westward. I did not understand. I knew that I had come a much greater
+distance than three miles; I had crossed two large roads running north;
+this stream was not down on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this
+stream was the Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small,
+as Nick had intimated.
+
+I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great angle in
+the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's Mill.
+
+Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam, seemingly
+a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not understand why
+it was there. On the other side of the water, which seemed to be deep,
+though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A road, a narrow country
+road, ran seemingly straight into the water. Only a few steps to my left
+there was an elbow of the road, I moved to this elbow, keeping in the
+bushes, and looked down on the water. There was no sign of a ferry; I
+could see the road where it left the water on the other side, and I
+could see men passing back and forth across the road some two or three
+hundred yards away.
+
+For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the meaning of
+this road's going into deep water. What could it mean? Certainly there
+was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The ordinary needs of the
+country would require a ferry, and there was no ferry. I had looked long
+and closely, and was sure there was no ferry, and was almost as sure
+that there never had been one. The road before my eyes was untravelled;
+the ruts were weeks old, without the sign of a fresh track since the
+last rains; the road was not now used, that was a certainty.
+
+When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear; the road
+had been a good road before the rebels came; when they fortified their
+lines they rendered the road useless. They destroyed the ford by
+building the dam below.
+
+I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of what at
+first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have told me
+offhand all about it.
+
+In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep water. Now,
+thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly see another dam,
+and it was not five minutes before I came in sight of the second dam.
+
+I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of earthworks
+on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed nearly
+straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was. To attack the
+Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our troops could first
+destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.
+
+By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was
+famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get any
+food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about me to see
+if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for not having
+brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain this night near
+the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing that my work was not
+yet done, until the next day; so I must expect many hours of sharp
+hunger unless I could find food.
+
+I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a continuous line
+of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to Yorktown, and all I
+cared to prove was whether that line had its angle at the former place,
+as Nick had declared, and as seemed reasonable to me from every
+consideration. I would, then, make my way carefully down the river to
+Lee's Mill, and if possible finish my work before sunset; but my hunger
+was so great that I thought it advisable to first seek food. So,
+deferring my further progress down the stream, I set out in an easterly
+direction by the road which had crossed previously above the second dam,
+in the hope that this road would lead me to some house where help could
+be found, for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my
+first need.
+
+However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road, walking
+through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another road joining
+it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn from recent use. I
+had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard a noise behind
+me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat behind a bush which
+grew by a fallen tree. Three horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward.
+They passed at a walk, and were talking, but their words could not be
+distinguished. The middle man was riding a gray horse.
+
+About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became less
+dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was what the
+Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a small farmhouse
+with, a few necessary outbuildings.
+
+Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house yard from
+the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with saddles on their
+backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant from the horses, and
+could plainly see a holster in front of one of the saddles.
+
+No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and listened. The
+evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in the west, but the
+sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be an hour or two of
+daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill must be put off till
+the morrow.
+
+A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the well in
+the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail of water. Now
+the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the stamping of heavy
+foot within the house; a moment afterward three men came out and
+approached the horses.
+
+The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his eyes with
+his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling cloud-edge barely
+hid the sun from view. He was looking directly over my head; dropping
+his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This man was nearer to me than
+the others were. I could less distinctly hear the words of the others,
+but when this one got near their horses a conversation was held with the
+woman standing in the doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.
+
+"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse, "yes, I
+reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any more."
+
+"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose words, by
+reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was talking toward
+me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.
+
+"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was astride
+his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks treat you as
+well as us, you may thank your God."
+
+"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to risk 'em
+if God sends 'em."
+
+The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions, shouted
+back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody else!"
+
+"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a parting
+shot.
+
+When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the road, I
+had but little reluctance in going into the house. The woman stared at
+me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye; evidently she did not know
+what to think of me. She said nothing, and stood her ground in the
+middle of the floor.
+
+I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in which
+there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst; then I
+said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have what cold food
+you have in the house."
+
+"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she asked.
+
+"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"
+
+"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most ev'ything I
+had, so I hain't got much."
+
+"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you can."
+
+She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone" of
+corn-bread.
+
+"This is all they is," she said.
+
+"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"
+
+"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."
+
+"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.
+
+She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down to
+Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an' you
+soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel kinder
+skittish."
+
+"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the Yankees
+are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before to-morrow,
+though--maybe not till the day after."
+
+"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but I
+reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."
+
+"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't have run
+off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of them. I don't
+suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop again."
+
+"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop tell they
+git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the mill."
+
+"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,
+
+She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a mistake.
+
+"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"
+
+"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"
+
+"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."
+
+I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I had made
+another mistake.
+
+"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing her a
+one-dollar Confederate note.
+
+"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to see
+silver agin."
+
+"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.
+
+"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore eyes."
+
+"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.
+
+"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said; "anyhow,
+you kin git to the camp on this side."
+
+"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.
+
+"Good-by, Mister," she said.
+
+I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the door; she
+raised her voice a little, and said,--
+
+"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the mill."
+
+So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but as soon
+as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right through the
+woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could eat and sleep.
+
+When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from the post
+near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all withdrawing to
+their main lines; this thought had received some corroboration from the
+firing heard in my rear later in the day; I had believed the Union
+troops advancing behind me; but afterward I had seen other rebels at the
+woman's house, and I now doubted what I had before believed. Besides, it
+was clear from the woman's words that there was a rebel post this side
+of Lee's Mill, and I was yet in danger.
+
+The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running west,
+the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept up to it,
+and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it, and into the
+woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a southwest course, and
+found a spot where I thought I could spend the night in safety. For fear
+of being detected I dug a hole, with my knife, in the earth, and piled
+the loose earth around the hole; then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at
+the bottom. Night had not yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense
+thicket surrounded by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or
+smoke would betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of
+any one who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and
+toasted my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I
+wanted water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to
+search for a spring or a stream in the woods.
+
+I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with my
+hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not cold,
+threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the wind.
+
+Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of lying in a
+mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water running through my
+whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have water at any risk.
+
+I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of my
+supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all
+likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.
+
+Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was completely
+lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and gullies, round
+and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out, until just before day I
+saw the reflection of fire through the woods, and at the same time
+almost fell into a small pool. It was the reflection of the light by the
+pool which at once showed me the water and saved me from finding it
+with a sense other than sight.
+
+I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant. Although
+it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it was some rebel
+camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I turned my back on the
+light, and walked until I could see it no more; then I stretched myself
+under a tree, but could not sleep. Day was coming.
+
+After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable time of
+it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to determine to
+move, for I did not know which way to start. I set out, however, and had
+gone a short distance, when I noticed the green moss at the root of a
+large tree, and I remembered that I had read in stories of Indians and
+hunters that such moss always grows on the north side of the trees. So I
+then turned westward, for I knew that I had crossed no road in my
+wanderings of the night, and I also knew that the main road from Warwick
+Court-House to Lee's Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a
+great tree with a sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was
+raining harder. When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat
+under the tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and
+hiding me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard
+the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of rebel
+cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could distinctly
+hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off, seemingly. The rain
+still fell and I held my place.
+
+All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union
+soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.
+
+Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an advancing
+line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.
+
+"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are _you?_"
+
+"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer, coming up,
+"I'll attend to that man."
+
+"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to the
+right!"
+
+Two men came to the lieutenant.
+
+"Who _are_ you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.
+
+"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.
+
+"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"
+
+"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in the
+night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of their
+cavalry went by ten minutes ago."
+
+The line went on in the rain.
+
+The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them to take
+me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson. I have never
+learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good qualities.
+
+Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line did not
+seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began to understand
+that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should have run upon the
+enemy in force.
+
+I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the head of
+his brigade. He asked me my name.
+
+"Jones Berwick, General," said I.
+
+"What is your business?"
+
+"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your
+regiment?"
+
+"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least, it had
+not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before yesterday."
+
+"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near
+Washington?"
+
+"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my health,
+General."
+
+"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by lying out
+in the woods in the rain?"
+
+"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and I am
+now fully recovered."
+
+General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on day before
+yesterday?"
+
+"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General McClellan
+had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I left."
+
+"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern accent."
+
+"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner; I came
+out to observe the rebel lines."
+
+"By whose authority?"
+
+Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass, signed by
+such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some complication should
+arise which would give trouble to such an officer, for Dr. Khayme had
+not fully informed me about my privileges.
+
+"It was only a private enterprise, General."
+
+"Tell me all about it," he said.
+
+I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the Warwick
+River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it; that the fords
+had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no rebels on this side
+of the river now, in my opinion, except pickets, and possibly a force
+just in front of Lee's Mill.
+
+"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.
+
+"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the other
+side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it. Night came on
+me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I have nothing but
+hearsay in regard to that place."
+
+"What have you heard?"
+
+I told him what the woman had said.
+
+"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he asked
+sternly.
+
+"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any proof; I
+wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy you."
+
+The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on a piece
+of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who rushed off to the
+rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from the rear; he saluted
+General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him in a low tone. I could
+easily guess that he was speaking of me.
+
+Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about my
+service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was its
+colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead of my
+regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick replies.
+Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout, which I gave
+him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke of Nick, his eye
+brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he nodded his head. Then
+he asked, "What did you write?"
+
+"The word _going_," I said.
+
+"Have you a pencil?" he asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Here, take this, and write the word _going_," he said, handing me a
+small blank-book.
+
+On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature below.
+
+Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked
+attentively at both books.
+
+Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he says.
+Better be careful of your advance."
+
+And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr. Berwick."
+
+That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.
+
+
+
+XI
+
+FORT WILLIS
+
+     "This is the sergeant,
+     Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters, I had
+been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News. The
+officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's aides.
+The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had delivered
+my message, with which my handwriting showed identity; moreover, General
+Keyes, when the matter was brought to his attention, immediately
+declared with a laugh that his friend Khayme's protege was a "brick."
+
+The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously
+subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which,
+though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a camp-bed
+after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near me, and
+questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to term my
+escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my visit to the
+woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred on Nick.
+
+"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point of view
+in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have trusted him
+the instant I learned that he was a slave."
+
+"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the slaves
+wish to be free."
+
+"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has independence
+of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at night between two
+hostile armies, wishes to be free."
+
+"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think, that at
+the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can now."
+
+This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed, "Father,
+Mr. Berwick needs rest."
+
+"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of. Let me
+fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then he can sleep
+the sleep of the just."
+
+"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."
+
+"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that the just
+live forever."
+
+"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did live."
+
+"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said
+"slaveholders."
+
+"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels, that is,
+after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion becomes
+unnecessary."
+
+"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war, are
+necessary?"
+
+"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the Doctor;
+"rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to usurped authority
+is always right."
+
+"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked languidly.
+
+"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."
+
+"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only making him
+sleepy."
+
+Lydia retired.
+
+I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He
+continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but I
+warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for to-morrow. By
+the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your regiment is
+expected on the tenth."
+
+"Glad to hear it, Doctor."
+
+"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"
+
+"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them that I
+saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of course."
+
+"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"The map we have is incorrect."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."
+
+"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep, and it
+cannot be turned on the James River side except by the fleet."
+
+"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing nothing,
+and probably will do nothing until the _Merrimac_ is disposed of."
+
+"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"
+
+"By this and that," said the Doctor.
+
+"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.
+
+"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.
+
+"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our troops should
+have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."
+
+"Do you object?" he asked.
+
+"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I should have
+done I don't well see."
+
+"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.
+
+"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been compelled to
+wait till night to make a start."
+
+Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and faster
+than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before sleep
+overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head looked alive,
+and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and half hid the Doctor's
+face were not mere forms that would dissipate and be no more; they
+seemed living beings--servants attendant on their master's will.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote some
+letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news that
+Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a siege
+instead of a battle.
+
+"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by
+assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for reenforcements, there
+will be nothing to prevent the Confederates from being reenforced; so
+mote it be."
+
+"What! You are not impatient?"
+
+"Certainly not."
+
+"And you are willing for the enemy to be reenforced?"
+
+"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will end."
+
+"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he is likely
+to lose much time now."
+
+"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."
+
+"All the time there is! that means eternity."
+
+"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."
+
+"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.
+
+"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will happen
+in that time."
+
+"To McClellan?"
+
+"Why not to McClellan? To all."
+
+"Everything is a big word, Doctor."
+
+"No bigger than eternity."
+
+"And McClellan will win and will lose?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that everything
+will happen."
+
+"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the conditions
+necessary to cause everything to come to pass."
+
+"The rebels will win and the North will win?"
+
+"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will happen."
+
+"You surely are a strange puzzle."
+
+"I give myself enough time, do I not?"
+
+"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."
+
+"The contradiction is only seeming."
+
+"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull Run?"
+
+"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but the
+defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by saying both
+North and South will win, you surely know; it is that the divine
+purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end and
+accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present wicked
+strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the people of
+both sections wants will come; what they want they fight for; but it
+would have come without war, as I was about to tell you last night, when
+you interrupted me by going to sleep."
+
+"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how rebellion could
+exist and not bring war."
+
+"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.
+
+"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in two
+senses," said the Doctor.
+
+"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to give
+it."
+
+"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."
+
+"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall proceed to
+punish you."
+
+"By refusing me?"
+
+"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does not
+necessarily bring war?"
+
+"That is the postulate," I replied.
+
+"Then, first, what is rebellion?"
+
+"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a definition,
+"rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or state, to the
+legalized government of the nation or state."
+
+"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see if there
+have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you say of
+Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"
+
+"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a stop to
+it."
+
+"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you say of
+Monk?"
+
+"What Monk?"
+
+"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the Second."
+
+"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a
+rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."
+
+"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"
+
+"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does not bring
+war when, the other party won't fight."
+
+"But it is wrong to fight," he said.
+
+"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.
+
+"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending is that
+every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England have been wiser
+if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies? Suppose the principle
+of peace were cherished: the ideas that would otherwise cause rebellion
+would be patiently tested; the men of new or opposite ideas would no
+longer be rebels; they would be statesmen; a rebellion would be
+accepted, tried, and defeated by a counter rebellion, both peaceable. It
+is simply leaving things to the will of the majority. Right ideas will
+win, no matter what the opposition to them. Better change the arena of
+conflict. A single champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter
+and prove his hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same
+thing on a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and
+I have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or
+rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you
+Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you
+proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of them
+are left to think fatally; but they _will_ think, and your killing them
+will not prove your ideas right."
+
+"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know that is
+what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I asked, thinking
+to touch a tender spot.
+
+"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many a
+Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea would
+have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once; but the
+idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with the South
+knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge concerning principle
+was involved, instead of massacre according to the John Brown idiocy, a
+great amelioration in the condition of the slave would have begun
+immediately. The South, would have gradually liberated the slaves."
+
+"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from perfection."
+
+"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to have
+ideals, and strive to reach them."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship Point,
+and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the next day I
+rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me coming. The good
+fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and generous. We soon
+went off for a private chat.
+
+"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he asked.
+
+"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp was
+never moved once; what have you been doing?"
+
+"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to come.
+Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"
+
+"What new drill?"
+
+"Hardee."
+
+"You don't say!"
+
+"Fact. Whole division."
+
+"Do you like it better?"
+
+"Believe I do."
+
+"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough to do of
+another sort."
+
+Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the manual of
+arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is carried in the
+right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted for Scott's, which
+provides for the shoulder on the left side. There was no actual drill,
+however, and my clumsy performance--clumsy compared with that of the
+other men of the company who had become accustomed to the change--was
+limited to but little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants
+because of my inexperience.
+
+I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not expect him
+to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of her; and I did
+not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him information concerning
+the young lady. He asked me about Dr. Khayme, however, and thus gave me
+the chance to let him know that the Doctor himself would move his
+quarters to the rear of our lines, but that his daughter would remain at
+the hospital at Newport News until the army should advance
+beyond Yorktown.
+
+And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of
+Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and
+frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost
+every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on the
+picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood the
+hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have endured much
+more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been completely upset; he
+had said that we should take Yorktown in a week and pursue the routed
+rebels into Richmond, and now we were doing but little--so far as we
+could see--to bring matters to a conclusion. The artillery of the rebels
+played on our lines; and our guns replied; the pickets, too, were
+frequently busy popping away at each other, and occasionally hitting
+their marks. Ever since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great
+quantities of lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though
+Dr. Khayme maintained that the waste became a crime when men were
+killed,--I have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words
+"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles, and
+about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than could be
+set down in a column of figures as long as the equator. From April 13 to
+May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac before Yorktown did not
+reach half of one per cent. The men learned speedily to dodge shells,
+and I remember hearing one man say that he dodged a bullet. He saw a
+black spot seemingly stationary, and knew at once that the thing was
+coming in a straight line for his eye. The story was swallowed, but I
+think nobody believed it, except the hero thereof, who was a good
+soldier, however, and ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who
+is supremely interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my
+part, it was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired
+one. I dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a
+cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under
+cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing sometimes to
+hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way," at the smoke of a
+gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no sound of a shell would
+follow, the missile having gone into the woods half a mile to our
+right or left.
+
+I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had in its
+ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant, I never saw
+him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead a picket squad
+into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the skirmish detail in
+place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and laugh, and swear, in
+everything he was simply superb. That I do not quote his cuss-words must
+not be taken as an indication, that they were commonplace. Everything he
+did he did with his might, almost violently. He was a good shot, too,
+within the range of the smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of
+them--seemed to be better armed than we were; it was said that they had
+received some cargoes of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range,
+according to the marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by
+blockade-runners. They could keep us down behind the pits while they
+would walk about as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries
+was flung at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been
+studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over the
+fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his temper
+got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one day when he
+was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit; Willis's bullet
+would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the Enfield Minie ball
+would go a-kiting over our heads and making men far to our rear look
+out. Sometimes Willis was very gloomy, and I attributed this condition
+to his passion for Lydia, though, on such a subject he never opened his
+mouth to me.
+
+One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I were both
+on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty, and Willis was
+the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been skirmishing on this
+part of the line the preceding day, but at sunset, or the hour for
+sunset if the weather had been fair, the firing had ceased as we marched
+up and relieved the old pickets. We were in the woods, the most of us,
+but just here, on the right of our own detail, there were a few
+rifle-pits in the open, the opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four
+hundred yards apart, and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at
+night--being about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always
+composed of three men for each post. We found our three men numb with,
+cold, two lying near the edge oL the woods, in a big hole made by a
+shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard
+nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds reflected
+the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long till day. The
+two men, my companions on post, whispered together, and then proposed
+that I should take the first watch. Willis had returned to the line
+with the relieved vedettes. I had no objection to taking the first
+watch, yet I hesitated, simply because the two men had whispered. I
+fancied there was some reason for the request, and I asked bluntly why
+they had decided it was my turn without giving me a voice in the matter.
+You know it is the custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man
+volunteers for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends,
+and that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from
+various companies, they preferred lying together.
+
+This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason that in
+two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and they lay down
+in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle, for fear of some
+sudden volley from the rebels.
+
+The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the left
+oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near to a tree
+which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy pine of second
+growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with its limbs starting
+from the trunk as low as eight feet from the ground. I stood near this
+tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our nearest vedette posts, right and
+left, were a hundred yards from me--the one on the left being in the
+woods, that on the right in the open. The country called the Peninsula
+is low and flat and very swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of
+rain that had now fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a
+loblolly, to use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about
+thirty yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it
+was possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this
+ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture us;
+such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by the
+rebels, but by many other people at war.
+
+Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line about three
+hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette posts nobody knew
+where, for they used similar economy to ours in withdrawing their
+vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of which I can but barely
+mention, had opened my eyes a little to the possibility of accurate
+inferences, that is to say, his philosophy of cause and effect, or
+purpose, as he liked better to call it, had been urged upon me so
+frequently and so profoundly that I had become more observant; he had
+made me think of the relations of things. Philosophy, he had said,
+should be carried into everyday life and into the smallest matters; that
+was what made a good fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a
+good soldier, provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This
+ravine, then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented
+opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods, make
+prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there would be a
+gap through which our skirmish line might be surprised.
+
+I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood near the
+ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the darkness. It did not
+extend into the forest, for the roots of the trees there protected the
+soil from washing away. The undergrowth at my left was not very dense; I
+judged that in daylight one could see into the forest a hundred yards or
+more. At my right, the gully began and seemed to widen and deepen as it
+went, but nothing definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.
+
+My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was really
+transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more forward place but
+thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in less than a minute.
+
+The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my short
+absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I would not
+like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt that I had done
+right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically speaking, but only
+to take a proper precaution, in regard to the post itself. Then, what is
+a man's post? Merely the ground with which the soles of his feet are in
+touch? If he may move an inch, how far may he move? Yet I was glad that
+the men had not seen me move and come back, and I was glad, too, that
+they had made the proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had
+discovered danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now
+for one of these men to take my place.
+
+My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious of any
+new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do something.
+
+I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.
+
+"Who stands watch next?"
+
+"Me. But it's not time yet."
+
+"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back to the
+line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a minute."
+
+"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."
+
+"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said I.
+
+The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, "What is
+it you say I'm to tell him?"
+
+The other man also had risen.
+
+"Only that I want to see him."
+
+"Anything wrong?"
+
+"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is all."
+
+The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become alarmed,
+perhaps.
+
+When Willis came I was under the tree.
+
+"What's up, Jones?"
+
+"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."
+
+"It's a gully," says he.
+
+"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our post
+ought to be where we can see into it."
+
+"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."
+
+I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any intimation
+to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were standing near me.
+
+In two minutes Willis returned.
+
+"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where you are."
+
+We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the ravine.
+
+"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to be
+here."
+
+"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise us.
+This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."
+
+The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be
+thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.
+
+"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know what that
+noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."
+
+"Let's have it."
+
+"We can get lots of fun out here."
+
+"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"
+
+"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a word to
+them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be mum now,
+old man."
+
+"Tell me what you mean."
+
+But he had already started back.
+
+It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; yet the
+weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I knew that in
+all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would prolong the duty
+of the vedettes and make another relief necessary.
+
+When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good men of
+Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on back to the
+line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."
+
+When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way back a
+short distance and into the edge of the woods.
+
+"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. We want
+to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or something to screen
+them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so beyond the gully till I
+whistle for you, or call you. The rest of us will do the work while
+you watch."
+
+The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear enough.
+One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that others seemed
+to have come up in no light marching order. Willis meant to occupy the
+ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in this advanced post, so
+near the rebels that his bullets would not fall short. It was all
+clear enough.
+
+The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing Thompson, I
+skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or forty yards to my
+right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, with my eyes to the front.
+Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; the men were filling the
+sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck became stiff. No sound
+reached me from the front; I supposed that the nearest rebel vedette was
+not nearer than two hundred yards, unless at a point more advanced from
+his lines there was some natural protection for him. But what prevented
+my being surprised from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened
+my neck; light was beginning to show.
+
+At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call twice. The
+ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself almost impregnable
+against an equal force of skirmishers. Just where an angle in the
+western edge presented a flank of wall toward the north, Willis and his
+gang had cut away the earth into a shelf some three feet beneath the
+top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth surmounted the summit, with open
+spaces between, in order that a musket might be fired through, these
+handy port-holes, and the sand-bags were covered with sedge from the
+open field. I congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.
+
+The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could yet see
+neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and reserved the
+centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be about two feet
+nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was manned by Freeman,
+Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.
+
+"Men, attention!" says Willis.
+
+"Take the caps off of your pieces!"
+
+The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis condescended to
+explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as Act First; that any
+man who should yield to the temptation to fire without orders, was to be
+sent back to the line at once.
+
+Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a bullet
+whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel side.
+
+"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.
+
+Everybody had rushed to his place.
+
+"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.
+
+We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.
+
+"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.
+
+The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.
+
+"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.
+
+Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line in the
+rear.
+
+The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from one to
+another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our heads from
+the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade from both sides
+continued.
+
+Willis was at the parapet.
+
+"Look out!" he cries.
+
+A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets from the
+rebels.
+
+"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.
+
+We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible three
+hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. Our skirmish
+line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired not at us but at
+our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had been but the supplement
+of the artillery fire--all for the purpose of getting full command of
+our line, on which not a man now dared to show his head, for a dozen
+Minie balls would go for it at the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had
+not detected our little squad.
+
+"Prime, men!" says Willis.
+
+The guns were capped.
+
+"Now, hold your fire till the word!"
+
+Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all their own
+way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their waists could be
+seen; some of them began to walk about a little, for they were not in
+any sort of danger, that is, from our line. They were firing with a
+system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and
+so on down their line, merely to keep the advantage they had gained. At
+irregular intervals two or three shots would be sent at some dummy--a
+hat or coat held up by the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.
+
+"_Ready!_" says Willis.
+
+Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another joined them.
+
+"_Aim! Fire!_"
+
+Five triggers were pulled.
+
+"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable oath, than
+any I ever saw in print.
+
+The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my way; I had
+been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly see anything. Put
+yourself in a hole, and raise your head until your eyes are an inch, or
+two above the surface of ground almost level--what can you see? But for
+a slight depression between us and the rebels, the position would have
+been worthless; yet every evil, according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or
+good side--our fortress was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it,
+if they saw it at all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective
+mingling our small elevation with the greater ones beyond.
+
+We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight feet
+deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a rattle of
+firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had taken advantage of
+the diversion brought, and had turned the tables; not a shot was coming
+from the front.
+
+Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," he said.
+
+Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were doing
+nothing, and were nervously expectant.
+
+Holt wished for a pack of cards.
+
+A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a gang of
+rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were but sixty
+yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line could protect
+us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of 'em before they could
+git to us," To this Thompson replied that if the rebels should again get
+the upper hand, and make our men afraid to show their heads, the rebels
+could come on us from the woods without great danger. Willis admitted
+that Thompson had reason, but did not think the rebels had yet found us
+out; at any rate, they would be afraid to come so near our strong
+skirmish-line; so for his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the
+right was the place of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the
+rebels might sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we
+were here.
+
+Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the front was
+heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us became silent.
+
+We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its port-hole.
+
+"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have another
+chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. Berwick first.
+Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a head--"
+
+I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that my shot
+missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides pegged away
+for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his man.
+
+Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of the bags
+between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and into the wall of
+the ravine behind us. Willis fired.
+
+"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."
+
+Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and then
+Freeman, and it became my turn again.
+
+That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and buried
+itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not believe that an
+ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted whether an Enfield had it.
+The rebels were getting good arms from England. It might be that some
+man over there had a Whitworth telescope rifle; if so he had detected us
+perhaps--a telescope would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this
+speculation, but watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a
+man as low as his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag
+was struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and
+which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the
+bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the wall
+of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.
+
+"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'll report directly, Sergeant."
+
+I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a long, leaden
+cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than calibre 45 I guessed.
+This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to Willis; he understood.
+
+"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."
+
+The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth over
+there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers where we were
+posted; then we should be a target for their whole line, and at three
+hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our sand-bags and make us
+lie low.
+
+Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched on the
+cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, the others
+fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.
+
+Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our fun.
+
+Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that we had
+done more damage than we had received, and should receive; that all we
+had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm should pass; the
+rebels would think that we were gone and would cease wasting their
+ammunition; then we could have more fun.
+
+Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so said
+Thompson, and so said Freeman.
+
+My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this moment
+retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge of the
+woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not killed; it was
+doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for the rebels, if they
+had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, and would throw a
+hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again get the upper hand of
+the rebels, then we could get out easily; if not, we must stay here till
+night. We had done all that could be done--had done well, and we must
+not risk loss without a purpose; we must protect ourselves; let the
+rebels waste their powder--the more they wasted, the better. The only
+real danger was that the rebels might advance; but even if they did,
+they could not get at us without coming to blows with our line--the
+ravine protected our line from their charge. It was our business to stay
+where we were and to keep a sharp lookout.
+
+So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we should
+keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at the bottom of
+the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.
+
+The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below the level
+of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to the porthole.
+Freeman began, taking off his coat.
+
+"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.
+
+"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.
+
+He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat above on
+a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, faced us, raised
+his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was the first dummy that
+the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at any rate their whole force
+was at once busy; the fire rolled from left to right far down the line,
+yet when Freeman examined his garments he found that neither hat nor
+coat had been struck.
+
+"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want to."
+
+Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must make
+some effort to keep awake.
+
+"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a little,
+and see what's there."
+
+"All right, Jones; but don't go far."
+
+I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward our
+line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned toward the
+left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the left, running
+for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running straight toward the
+rebels. I came back and reported.
+
+"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We must
+keep two sentinels on post now."
+
+Thompson was posted at the bend.
+
+It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the gully;
+they could not know how small was our force; if they should march a
+company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to capture by a
+sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, however, that a few men
+would try to sneak up in order to see how many we were; yet even this
+supposition was not necessary, for the rebels were having everything
+their own way, and need risk nothing. So I decided in my own mind to be
+as patient as possible until dark.
+
+The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional Whitworth
+bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we could not hear
+the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer seen. What were they
+planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could find a means for
+communicating with our friends in the rear; if they would open fire
+again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was best to be quiet
+until dark.
+
+I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at the bend.
+Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; our game had been
+blocked. The notion now came to me that if the rebels wanted us, the way
+to get us would be to send men up the ravine just before dark, and at
+the same time for a squad of them to steal through the woods to our
+left, where they would be ready for us when we should steal out.
+
+"Sergeant!"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Think we'd better get back."
+
+"What's the matter now?"
+
+"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."
+
+"Fact, by--!" says Willis.
+
+"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here to tell
+you how to do it."
+
+"Le's have it," says Willis.
+
+"Make a big smoke!"
+
+Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, down at
+the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the ravine. Our knives
+and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big heap of green boughs
+and sprigs. It would take work to touch her off, for there was no dry
+wood; but we managed by finding the remains of cartridge papers and
+using a free supply of gunpowder. When all was ready, Holt was recalled,
+and the match was struck.
+
+"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a partin'
+salute."
+
+The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately peeping to the
+front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At last she caught, and a
+thin column of black smoke began to ascend.
+
+"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up to."
+
+A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, or by us
+at them.
+
+The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it away from
+the woods.
+
+"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.
+
+But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort Willis
+should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention had been so
+fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the universe had become
+a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder almost overhead startled the
+defenders of the redoubt. Without our knowledge a storm had rolled up
+from the Atlantic; the rain was beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops,
+already obscuring our vision.
+
+"_Fire!_" shouted Willis.
+
+The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to the
+skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's making.
+
+
+
+XII
+
+MORE ACTIVE SERVICE
+
+         "Do but start
+     An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
+     And even at hand a drum is ready braced
+     That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were heard in the
+direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the light of great
+fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be ready to march, but the
+morning wore away, and it was almost two o'clock before the long roll
+beat. At length we moved with the column, already unnerved by
+long-continued expectation, westward upon the Williamsburg road.
+
+Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told you so."
+
+Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he kept on
+predicting till the rain came.
+
+The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up by the
+retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of us.
+
+Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had come into
+our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking our way. We
+rested. About dark our head of column was turned back and we
+countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted again, where,
+I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn out when orders
+were given that the men should lie on their arms, but that they should
+otherwise make themselves as comfortable as they could. Rain was
+falling, the night was black, comfort was impossible. I suppose I got
+two or three hours' sleep. At daylight the march was again taken up; in
+an hour or two we halted and formed line with skirmishers in front; it
+was still raining.
+
+We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank, through the
+woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers deployed in
+advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets flew amongst us.
+We continued to advance until we reached the edge of the woods; the line
+had not yet fired a shot.
+
+The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we became
+visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the timber at our
+ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We lay there for
+something like two hours; then we moved to the rear,--only our regiment,
+I think,--fronted again, and marched to the right for perhaps a mile
+through the woods. Willis said that we were seeking any enemy that might
+be in the woods; but he aroused no interest; nobody either approved or
+seemed to doubt Willis's interpretation of the movement; we did not know
+what the generals were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and
+hungry and wet.
+
+By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position near the
+felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile batteries to fire
+upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the rear. I noticed that
+our company seemed small; perhaps a few had been wounded; certainly many
+had fallen out of ranks, unable longer to endure.
+
+About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time through
+the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the roar of musketry
+ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen running in every direction
+except one. We moved on in line, without skirmishers. The straggling men
+increased in numbers, and many wounded went past us, the ambulance
+corps working busily here in the dense wet forest. The yells of the
+rebels were plainly heard, and all eyes were strained to catch sight of
+what was already but too well known. Every moment was an hour.
+
+Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line staggered
+to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as he could--firing
+at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could be heard in the
+smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution in our own strife,
+there could be faintly heard the noise of battle to our right, far and
+near to our right.
+
+Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to the
+left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers cried,
+"They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that line, men! They
+are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in convincing most of us
+that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are flanked!" "Look out!"
+"Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the whole crowd of us were running
+with all our legs. I reached a road that ran across the line of my
+flight; it was full of everything: troops in good order, stragglers
+breaking through them, wounded lying down, dead flat on their backs,
+artillery horses in their traces, ambulances.
+
+So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops had
+relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and the
+battle soon ended on the whole line.
+
+With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the woods;
+the rain kept on.
+
+I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered a
+victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we had won
+it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the battle. The
+rebels fought this partial engagement only for the purpose, I think, of
+securing the retreat of their army and trains; we fought for the purpose
+of preventing the retreat. I have learned that our right wing had
+better success than we had on the left; but for all that, the enemy got
+away unbroken, and his purpose was accomplished. In the days of those
+early battles, even the falling back of the rebel pickets before a line
+of our skirmishers was telegraphed to Washington as a victory.
+
+We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small. Willis's
+remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring much comfort;
+even his assertion, that they would again retreat and that the morning
+would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm. The men were
+dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought hard and had
+endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they were physically
+exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody had blundered in
+putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place. I have always been
+proud that none of our men deserted on the night of the
+Williamsburg battle.
+
+No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down. My
+gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top; this was
+our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and gum-blanket. The night
+was warm enough, and our covering was needed only as some protection
+against the rain. I was soon asleep, but awake again as soon. About ten
+o'clock I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rising, I saw our
+orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by him. I was ordered to report at
+General Grover's headquarters. The general had sent an orderly, who
+could not or would not tell why I was wanted.
+
+General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers, surrounding a
+dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a large tree; horses
+were tied near by to the branches of trees.
+
+The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.
+
+The general came toward me; I saluted.
+
+"Your name," said he.
+
+"Private Jones Berwick."
+
+"Your regiment."
+
+"Eleventh."
+
+"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."
+
+I bowed.
+
+"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"
+
+"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after danger," said
+I.
+
+"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."
+
+He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers scattering.
+
+"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must send a
+man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this brigade?"
+
+"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."
+
+"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going should
+not be allowed to go."
+
+"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me decline."
+
+"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall lose
+nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do your duty
+well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."
+
+"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.
+
+"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let me show
+you."
+
+He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an officer
+stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and placed the
+lantern near the blanket.
+
+"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.
+
+The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on the
+blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.
+
+"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil; "you see
+our line here, running north and south."
+
+"Which is north?" I asked.
+
+"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over here, or
+were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this branch, in
+part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get across the branch,
+and go on through the woods until you come to this road, which you see
+running north and south. You need not go across this road. All I want
+you to do is to observe this road until day."
+
+"Is the road in the woods, General?"
+
+"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble
+whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the
+road," said he.
+
+"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall I do?"
+
+"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their vedettes
+near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to the road. If
+they are on this side of the road, but so near the road that you can
+observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with as little risk to
+yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on the road, you must
+come back to the picket-line and report, and then return to your post of
+observation."
+
+"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and our
+picket-line?"
+
+"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to supply one."
+
+"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this side of
+the road."
+
+"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night. Take your
+own way to do it, but the road must be observed."
+
+"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"
+
+"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred yards,"
+said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of paper."
+
+"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the other
+brigades, General?"
+
+"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will hardly
+find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do our duty for
+us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision such as you
+speak of."
+
+"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"
+
+"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you through.
+I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."
+
+"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't find you
+when I get back."
+
+"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get back to
+us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that relieve them
+about you."
+
+"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said I.
+
+"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through the other
+man. Is everything clear to you now?"
+
+"Yes, General; I think so."
+
+"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten minutes."
+
+I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed, and I
+was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as much
+consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that I should
+run against one of them in the darkness. I put my gum-blanket over me,
+committed my knapsack and other things to Willis's keeping; and was back
+with the general.
+
+We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the general had
+shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief conversation took place
+between the general and Captain Brown of the picket-line. The captain
+chose a man, and told him to follow me and to obey my orders.
+
+Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, my
+man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you report any
+movement on that road." I began to assure him that I would do all that I
+could, but I found that he had already started back to the brigade.
+
+I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when I
+should return. The low call went right and left along the line,--"Two of
+our men going to the front!"
+
+"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.
+
+"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are only
+thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour ago."
+
+I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern, which
+his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or more, that
+the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two men to every five
+paces, and that every man was standing in his place, gun in
+hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their faces to the
+front. There were no picket fires.
+
+"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"
+
+"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new men in
+half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for such duty.
+The new men will be advised that you are still in front. Are you ready?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Come."
+
+The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the
+detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The
+captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to the
+picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I say
+observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch it. I
+asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the picket-line; while he
+was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette. He had heard nothing in his
+front, except that now and then there seemed to come to him, from far
+away, an indistinct rumble; he had seen nothing in the black night
+except trees but little blacker. The rain was a thick drizzle.
+
+I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard anything in his
+front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the vedettes had orders
+not to fire, but to retire at once on the picket-line in case of a
+silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar order, which at a later time
+I heard given again under somewhat similar circumstances, was no doubt a
+wise one. A secret advance of the enemy's skirmishers would have been
+precipitated into a charge by the fire of the vedette, whereas his
+secret retreat to his line would prepare the pickets to surprise the
+surprisers.
+
+And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods were so
+dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to see ahead of
+me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I supposed that the branch
+which I was to cross was but a very short distance in front. I had no
+fear that I should find enemies this side of the branch; the great
+probability was that their vedettes were posted on the farther bank of
+the stream. When I had gone not more than thirty yards, I felt that the
+ground sloped downward before me, and I judged that the branch was very
+near. I paused. There was not a sound except that made by the fall of
+heavy drops of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes,
+trying to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could
+not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a low
+whisper if he could see at all.
+
+"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you stand."
+
+I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that the
+branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little more light.
+He whispered back that there was, he thought, more light in our front
+than there had been before. I now tried to discern this new light, and
+could not at first, but after a little while it did seem to me that just
+ahead there was a dim gray streak.
+
+I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and I felt
+my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a step back,
+and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward, holding Allen's
+hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to do so. We went back
+again, some three steps, until I was out of the water.
+
+Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were hand-in-hand. He
+whispered, "It is ten steps wide."
+
+"Can you see across it?"
+
+"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."
+
+In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt myself in a
+more critical place. The opposite side of the branch was an ideal
+position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be there if anywhere in
+these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might have neglected their
+opportunity; besides, their line might be bent back here; their vedettes
+might be on the branch farther to our right, and _here_ might be
+anywhere in its rear; we did not know where the rebel right rested. Of
+one thing I felt sure--the rebels did not intend to advance on this
+night, for in that case they would have had their vedettes, and their
+pickets also, if possible, on our side of the branch.
+
+The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If vedettes
+were on it, it was just within the possible that I might pass between
+two of them.
+
+I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one, which he
+put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat, lest my foot
+should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused utter failure, if
+not our capture.
+
+We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the stick
+seemed to sink into soft mud.
+
+I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to my
+knees in water.
+
+I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.
+
+Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under my feet.
+I thought I had reached the middle.
+
+I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same
+monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.
+
+We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed steep. By
+feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed Allen's hand from
+my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the water below me.
+
+I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily tell that
+there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be surrounded by a dense,
+low thicket. What was in this thicket? Likely the rebel vedettes
+and pickets.
+
+My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel the
+smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying there, but not
+entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the splintered middle of the
+tree, still holding. I at once knew that I was in the midst of felled
+timber,--on the edge of a slashing or entanglement.
+
+Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely, unless
+there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the strip of
+timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just in rear of it;
+perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the branch, and in order to
+impede and expose to hearing any enemy that might succeed in crossing
+the branch. But, in that case, would not the timber be a protection
+rather than a hindrance to the enemy advancing or stealing forward? Yes,
+unless the vedettes were just in rear of this very narrow strip, or
+unless the rebel intrenchments were in easy musket range.
+
+These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with Allen
+below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber there might be
+capture, or death, or there might be no danger whatever. I was beginning
+to hope that there was no vedette or picket-line in these woods.
+
+Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward; after
+having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused and
+listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and, giving him
+my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went forward until I
+supposed we were near the spot to which I had previously advanced.
+Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept on again, and again
+returned to him; then both went forward as before. On this second stage
+of our approach we passed through to the farther side of the
+felled timber.
+
+We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every moment
+lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's works ought to
+be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis without intrenchments
+was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to find the
+intrenchments deserted.
+
+The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We had used
+up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of less than two
+hundred yards.
+
+I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with Allen
+forward--until at length I reached a road running across my line
+of progress.
+
+After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down on my
+hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell with my hands
+that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I supposed were horses'
+tracks, but it was impossible for me to know which way the
+tracks headed.
+
+Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or forty
+yards, and found nothing.
+
+Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do you
+think that skirt of felled timber means?"
+
+"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.
+
+"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there is
+nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel left in
+these woods."
+
+"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of
+fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."
+
+"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough its
+purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being seen."
+
+"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."
+
+I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the approach to a
+rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear many noises. The
+only thing I now feared was some scouting party.
+
+It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired upon, I
+decided that we must learn which way the movement on the road had been.
+I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a match near the
+ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked with all our eyes,
+moving the match back and forth over the road. The tracks all headed to
+our right.
+
+Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the road.
+
+"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."
+
+"Where are you going?"
+
+"Through the woods."
+
+"How long will you be gone?"
+
+"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you must return
+to the pickets and report that there has already been a considerable
+movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I feel certain that
+there are no rebels in these woods. They were here, but they have gone.
+I want to get to the open ground and see what is there; it will not
+take long."
+
+"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this spot," said
+he.
+
+"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is nobody in
+these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."
+
+"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are better
+than one."
+
+"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to both of us
+out there, and neither of us be able to report to General Grover. Stay
+where you are."
+
+I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be able to
+turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods became more
+open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see much better. I
+reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few stars were shining
+between broken clouds near the horizon in front of me--west, I thought.
+Toward the north, and northwest the clouds reflected some distant light,
+and had a reddish glow. I could distinctly hear the sounds of great
+movements, the rumblings of wagon, trains or artillery. The ground
+seemed open before me for a long distance.
+
+I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet me.
+
+"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over. Go back
+to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General Grover that
+the road shows clearly that the rebels have already moved along it to
+their left, our right; and that there is nobody here, all gone; gone to
+our right, their left, and that I have been entirely through the woods,
+and have found nothing, but that to the northwest there are the sounds
+of great movements, and that I am going to see if I cannot find
+out more."
+
+"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.
+
+"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I doubt if
+I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear in
+this place."
+
+Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two o'clock, I
+thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about me. I passed
+rapidly through the woods again and into the open ground, climbing a
+rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that rose before me, an "old
+field," or abandoned farm, which was scattered over here and there with
+clumps of stunted growth. Once I paused in terror. A bush had taken, to
+my fancy, the form of a man. The illusion lasted but for a moment.
+
+When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could see
+many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them stationary. The
+sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear shouts, like those
+of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch the command to close up.
+
+I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was difficult
+to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red glare I could
+distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were rebels in line before
+me, I should be able to see them before they could see me, so I went on
+without great fear, and crept to the top of this second swell of
+the ground.
+
+Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating. The road
+was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires were burning on
+both sides of the road; men and wagons were hurrying westward. Almost in
+front of me was a cluster of houses, which I took to be Williamsburg;
+fires were burning in the streets; a great throng was passing on west
+between the fires and between the houses. I had little doubt that I
+could mingle, without great danger, with the rebels, seeing that my
+gum-blanket would hide my uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought
+was rejected, however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew
+enough already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than
+I now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly
+delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried
+toward our pickets.
+
+When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had been
+advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made my report
+to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who mounted and rode
+off in haste.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was Willis.
+Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis was bubbling
+over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a high horse; the
+rebels would make no further stand until they reached Richmond; he
+doubted if they would attempt to defend Richmond, even. His spirits
+were contagious; he did good although he was ludicrous. What would Dr.
+Khayme have said of Willis's influence? I supposed that the Doctor would
+have used the sergeant as an illustration of his doctrine that there is
+nothing unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.
+
+The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but a short
+distance, and bivouacked.
+
+About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to Colonel
+Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had never before
+been individually in his presence. I wondered what it meant, and
+hastened to his headquarters.
+
+I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.
+
+"You are Private Berwick?" he said.
+
+"Yes, Colonel."
+
+"What have you been doing?"
+
+"In what respect, Colonel?"
+
+"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff, but his
+eye and mouth belied his voice.
+
+"Here," said he; "take this and read it."
+
+I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D, Eleventh
+Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further orders, from duty
+with his company, and will hold himself ready for special service
+when ordered."
+
+This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by General
+Grover.
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE
+
+"Take all the swift advantage of the hours."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I was again
+aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to the adjutant of
+the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of General Grover's order
+relieving me from regular duty--in fact had himself written the order by
+command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had been asked to issue it by our
+brigade commander. The adjutant also told me that I should still get
+rations through Company D, but that I was free to go and come when not
+on special duty, and that I was expected to keep him advised of my
+goings, so that I could be found when wanted. "For the rest," said he,
+"you will do much as you wish, especially when the brigade is in
+reserve, as it is to-day, and as it is likely to be for a good many days
+to come. Your services to be required at long intervals will make up, it
+is hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."
+
+I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on the
+right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the
+battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over which
+Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the rebels had here
+suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in places, although
+details of men had long been busy in burying the slain of both armies.
+
+At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed wrong more
+than once. No one was there except a white servant; he told me that the
+Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had been busy the whole of
+the preceding day and night in relieving the wounded; that he had taken
+no sleep at all. "I don't see how the Doctor stands what he goes
+through," said the man. "Yesterday the whole day long he was in the
+thick of it; he was in as great danger as the troops were; lots more
+than some of 'em. He said that the rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but
+for my part I wouldn't trust one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull
+by the tail; and him a tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."
+
+This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of danger.
+At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the wounded as
+they fell. I supposed that there was no use expostulating with a man who
+so firmly believed in the peculiar doctrines of his philosophy.
+
+About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.
+
+"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you think
+you are going to stay with me several days?"
+
+"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"
+
+"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this side of
+the Chickahominy."
+
+"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.
+
+"You will know."
+
+"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"
+
+"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on special
+duty not to be demanded for some time."
+
+"You know about my case?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such arduous
+labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and his mental
+power were to me matters for astonishment equally great.
+
+"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You need rest
+and sleep."
+
+"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I sleep;
+just now I want supper."
+
+After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a
+camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other man
+in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his eyes
+filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in perfect
+repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.
+
+I asked about Lydia.
+
+"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with me, but
+I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton until the
+army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do before you have
+any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for her yet."
+
+"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.
+
+"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can come to me
+when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we shall not demand
+her services here. But now tell me all about your last night's
+experience."
+
+When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be called on
+to do more of such work."
+
+"I suppose so," said I.
+
+"Do you like it?"
+
+"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I shall
+not object if I can accomplish anything."
+
+"You have accomplished something each time that you have been sent out.
+You have at least furnished strong corroborative evidence, sufficiently
+strong to induce action on the part of your generals."
+
+"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."
+
+"Are you sleepy?"
+
+"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the afternoon."
+
+"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given unto
+man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of last night
+you will incur little risk."
+
+"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."
+
+"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you will be
+in less danger, and you will accomplish more."
+
+"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more," said I.
+
+"You should always do such work unarmed."
+
+"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances only, and
+a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be silent."
+
+"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor; "you
+will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives will be safer
+from you."
+
+"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"
+
+"And be a spy, Jones?"
+
+"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not in
+them."
+
+"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.
+
+The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message addressed:--
+
+  PRIVATE BERWICK,
+   _On detached service,
+       At Sanitary Camp,
+         Rear of General Hancock's division_.
+
+"Who gave you this?" I asked.
+
+"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a horseman
+with two horses."
+
+"Is he waiting?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity; the
+thought went through my mind that he already knew or suspected.
+
+There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which contained
+only the countersigns for the past five days, and an order from
+General Hooker.
+
+The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had
+influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I could
+merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read the order
+thoroughly three times, learned by heart the countersigns, impressed the
+map on my mind, and then destroyed the three papers in accordance with
+an express injunction comprised in the order itself. This mental work
+took some minutes, during which the Doctor sat impassive.
+
+"Doctor, I must go."
+
+"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose you are
+on secret service."
+
+"Yes, Doctor,"
+
+"Can I help in any way?"
+
+"Please let me have that gray suit."
+
+He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.
+
+"Anything else, Jones?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I shall need food."
+
+"How will you carry it?"
+
+"In my pockets. Bread will do."
+
+"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that you
+shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."
+
+He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or pocket;
+this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I wanted.
+
+"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."
+
+"I am not in this army," he said.
+
+The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.
+
+"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to get back
+in two or three days."
+
+"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was gone.
+
+Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."
+
+"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"
+
+"No, sir; I suppose not."
+
+"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and that I
+begin work at once."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and rode toward
+the east.
+
+My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to communicate
+with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought to have landed
+on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House for the purpose of
+cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The earliest possible delivery of
+my message was strenuously required, my orders even going so far as to
+include reasons for despatch. The retreating enemy were almost between
+us and Franklin, and he must be notified to attack and delay them at
+every hazard, and must be informed if possible by what road he should
+advance in order to cut off their retreat; it was added that, upon
+landing, General Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel
+army, and would depend upon information being brought to him by some one
+of the messengers sent him on this night.
+
+My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging from the
+map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the six miles in
+less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts I had no trouble.
+
+"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.
+
+"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+"Don't know. Horse black."
+
+"Going fast?"
+
+"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' _to_ hell, too, if he
+don't mind how he rides."
+
+It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty miles ahead
+of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that circumspection was worth
+more than haste--let the black horse go on.
+
+"Where are the rebels?"
+
+"A mile in front when dark came."
+
+"Infantry?"
+
+"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't know
+which."
+
+"Please describe their position."
+
+"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up across the
+road--a mile out there," pointing.
+
+"In the woods?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Captain--"
+
+"No, only lieutenant."
+
+"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me to the
+point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"
+
+"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"
+
+As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but he knew
+nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or infantry,
+whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how many they were.
+The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road muffled the sounds of the
+horses' hoofs; no noise came from front or rear. The way was through the
+woods; in little more than half a mile open ground was seen ahead.
+Johnson stopped; so did I.
+
+"They are on the other side of the field," said he,
+
+"How wide is the field?"
+
+"A quarter, I guess."
+
+"What was planted in the field last year?"
+
+"Corn."
+
+"Stalks still standing?"
+
+"Yes, but they are very small."
+
+"Does the road run between fences?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How far does the field extend to our right?"
+
+"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."
+
+"And to our left?"
+
+"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."
+
+"Any houses?"
+
+"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."
+
+"A farmhouse?"
+
+"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."
+
+"Which side of the road?"
+
+"The left."
+
+Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.
+
+How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival at
+Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it might mean
+success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at nightfall, I
+should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if they were yet
+yonder in the woods on the other side of the field, they would capture
+me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the safe course, or the
+possible speedy course? I took the safe course. Dismounting I tied my
+horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward on the right of the
+right-hand fence, until I reached the woods beyond the field. I looked
+over the fence into the road. There was no enemy visible. The house at
+the west was without lights, and there was no noise of barking dogs or
+of anything else; clearly the rebels had moved, and by my prudence the
+black horse had gained further upon me. I got into the road and ran back
+to my horse, mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a
+mile; then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not
+expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first disappointment
+control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat of the rebels was
+necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains to protect. The road
+must be forsaken at the first path that would lead me to the right; any
+bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The night was clear, and the stars
+would guide me until I should reach some better ground. The sketch
+furnished me gave me only the main road, with the branch roads marked
+down for very short distances. I would take one of the branch roads
+leading to the right; there must be roads leading up the York; all the
+country is interlaced with roads small and large. I would risk it;
+better do that than risk falling into the enemy's hands.
+
+I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could
+distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was louder--coming
+and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into the woods a few
+yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still the sounds reached
+me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse, yet coming from far. Who
+could be riding fast this night? Who could be riding south this night?
+The rebels were going north; no rebel horseman would ride
+south to-night.
+
+The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed by; I
+could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I saw a black
+horse going south.
+
+Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I could not
+know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I be sure that
+in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or black from bay? I
+could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my first impression. The
+lieutenant had said the man's horse was black. How did the lieutenant
+know? Had he seen the horse by day? Had he brought a light? The horse
+must be very black. To satisfy my mind I led my horse into the road and
+slipped the bridle round his foreleg; then retired a few yards and
+looked at him--he had not the colour of the black horse; he was a
+deep bay.
+
+Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been found
+far up the road, and the messenger could not get through them. Who else
+would be riding fast down this road? If the rider were a rebel, he would
+ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward our own lines; this rider was
+one of ours. Who was he? He was the messenger on the black horse. Why
+should he ride so fast to the rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps
+he knew of another road, and was hurrying now because he had already
+lost time and his new road would be longer and would make him lose more.
+
+Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the black horse
+far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before I should
+encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.
+
+After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on the
+right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and considered.
+The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were occupied, what should
+I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one was now in the cabin, I
+might get information; if it was deserted, I could explore the ground
+about it, for I hoped that some path connected this place with other
+fields and perhaps other roads to the north. I dismounted and approached
+the door and knocked. There was no response. I pushed the door, and it
+opened; the place had been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a
+well in the back yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path
+leading to a spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully
+continued my search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the
+back fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to
+the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached the
+woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the trees
+overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my horse, I
+continued on and came to a larger field where, at the fence, the path
+connected with, a narrow plantation road which I knew, from the ruts,
+wagons had used. I went to the right, no longer dismounted, and going at
+a fast trot. My road was running in a northeast course, but soon the
+corner of the field was reached, and then it branched, one branch going
+to the north, the other continuing northeast Which should I take? I
+could not hesitate; I rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road
+for nearly a mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt
+sure that I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I
+considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road again,
+but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was stretched
+along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the rear-guard
+picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had preceded me. I
+would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost lost sometimes, passing
+farms and woods and streams, forsaking one path for a worse one, if the
+latter favoured my course, until at last, after great anxiety, and
+fatigue of body and mind, I reached a wide road running northwest. I had
+come, I supposed, four or five miles from the stile.
+
+Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in the road
+to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map was worthless
+now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying parties; those
+people I must watch for.
+
+I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles to go,
+for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but I counted
+that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative safety, and had five
+hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing about, but it was running in
+the correct course for Eltham's Landing high up on the river.
+
+Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should take the
+right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight off to the
+York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take the left, it was
+chance for chance that I should ride straight to the enemy on the
+Richmond road.
+
+I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of hope
+thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance, but would
+take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or bridle-path
+branching out of this, and running up the river. But my progress became
+exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss seeing some blind road
+leading to the right, and my carefulness again cost me a little time,
+perhaps, for I found a path, and took it, going with great caution for a
+furlong, to find that it entered a larger road. If I had not taken this
+path, I should have soon reached this good road at its junction, and
+time would have been saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame
+myself, and went on with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon
+was getting far down the sky, my road was good and was running straight
+toward my end.
+
+But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard hoof-beats
+behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some night rider was
+following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal? Loud ring the strokes
+of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I must run or I must
+slip aside.
+
+I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw up the
+game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid in the
+shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering hoofs hit the
+road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the black horse belly to
+the ground in the moonlight.
+
+Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man before me; if
+he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me; so long as he
+should be in my front, safety for me was at the front and danger
+elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the road stretches were
+long, going slowly where the ground was hard, lest the noise of my
+approach should be heard. Yet I had no difficulty; the courier was
+straining every nerve to reach his destination, and regarded not his
+rear. He crossed roads in haste, and by this I knew that the road was to
+him familiar; he paused never, but kept his horse at an even gallop
+through forest and through field, while I followed by jerks, making my
+horse run at times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back
+to slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.
+
+But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had supposed;
+light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the west. How far to
+the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he has gone many weary
+miles more than mine has gone; his rider is urging him to the utmost; I
+can see him dig his spurs again and again into the sides of the noble
+beast, and see him strike, and I see him turn where the road turns ahead
+of me, and I ride faster to recover him; and now I see black smoke
+rising at my right hand, and I hear the whistle of the Union steam
+vessels, and I almost cry for joy, and at the turning of the road my
+horse rears and almost throws me to the ground, and I see the black
+horse lying dead, and I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror
+as a man springs from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts,
+"Your horse! your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your
+brains out!"
+
+For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!
+
+Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I write
+the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the past:--the
+daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two horses, each pair
+as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was dead and the other man
+was about to die. Had I been so utterly foolish! Why had I conceived
+absolutely that this rider was a Federal? How could a Federal know the
+road so well that he had gone over it at full speed, never hesitating,
+never deflecting into a wrong course? The instant before, I had been in
+heaven, for I had known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt
+that my end had come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a
+lost mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time
+any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and reaching
+our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.
+
+In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world _was_
+changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I saw his hands go
+up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed sight--were two
+Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the man in gray.
+
+"Take me at once to General Franklin."
+
+Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same words!
+
+The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black horse was a
+Federal in disguise!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no error on
+my part, my mission was a failure.
+
+"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of it?" I
+asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.
+
+"That horse was going home!"
+
+"A horse captured from the rebels?"
+
+"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing. You see he
+had already made that road and was not in the best condition to make it
+again so soon; then I had to turn about more than once. I suppose that
+horse must have made nearly a hundred miles in twenty-four hours."
+
+Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as General
+Porter's messenger.
+
+On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+OUT OF SORTS
+
+      "Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
+      Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
+      A party in this alteration, finding
+      Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling for Dr.
+Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was sure that no
+other man was received as his companion--not that he was distant, but
+that he was not approached. By nature I am affectionate, but at that
+time my emotions were severely and almost continually repressed by my
+will, because of a condition of nervous sensitiveness in regard to the
+possibility of an exposure of my peculiarity, so that I often wondered
+whether the Doctor fully understood the love and reverence I bore him.
+
+On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say, on the
+morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William and Mary
+College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices, as he said,
+for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the open air, busily
+engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when I saw a man coming
+toward me. It was Willis.
+
+"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.
+
+"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"
+
+"That depends."
+
+"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought out a
+camp-stool; Willis remained standing.
+
+"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear about
+your being detailed for special work?"
+
+"So," said I.
+
+"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"
+
+Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be; besides, I
+had observed that he called me Berwick rather than Jones. His attitude
+chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about myself. We talk about
+personal matters to personal friends. I suppose, too, that I am peculiar
+in such things; at any rate, so great was my distaste to talking now
+with Willis on the subject in question that I did not succeed in hiding
+my feeling.
+
+"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."
+
+"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal matters,
+perhaps too personal."
+
+"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then he asked,
+"How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"
+
+It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not of the
+little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to Lydia, and
+I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my being or becoming
+his rival. Yet I did not see how I could introduce a subject so
+delicate. In order to gain time, I replied: "Well, I don't know exactly;
+I am subject to orders from brigade headquarters. If no orders come, I
+shall stay here a day or two; if we march, I suppose I shall march with
+the company, unless the division is in the rear."
+
+"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will you do?"
+he asked.
+
+This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I asked,
+"Why do you wish to know?"
+
+"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to show
+your hand."
+
+"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.
+
+"You know very well what I mean," he replied.
+
+"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say anything, this
+is a good time for saying it."
+
+"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss Lydia."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"And I thought you were my friend."
+
+"I am your friend."
+
+"Then why do you get into my way?"
+
+"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what would you
+have me to do?"
+
+"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."
+
+"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"
+
+"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why you
+visit him."
+
+"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him. I have
+no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."
+
+"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."
+
+"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to favour
+your hopes?"
+
+"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's company;
+but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that you want
+Miss Lydia."
+
+"Shall I tell him that you say that?"
+
+"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he replied
+angrily.
+
+"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss Lydia?"
+
+"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've got to say
+is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my way."
+
+"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me into a very
+delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and explain to him that my
+attachment to him is not a piece of hypocrisy played by me in order to
+win his daughter, would not be satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or
+even to Miss Khayme."
+
+"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.
+
+"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my assumption that
+she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my saying, 'I don't want
+you,' and more than that, as you can easily see. I decline to put myself
+into such a position. I prefer to assume that she does not regard me as
+a suitor, and that the Doctor receives me only as an old pupil. I beg
+you to stay here until the Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can
+promise you one thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a
+clear field."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with Miss
+Lydia?"
+
+"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect me to
+say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it would be
+silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have not. I can
+tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia that I would not
+speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter, and I can say that I
+have not one degree of claim upon her."
+
+"Then you will keep out of my way?"
+
+"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will keep
+out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young lady is
+absolutely free so far as I am concerned."
+
+At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and went
+into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I offered to
+lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so greatly
+interested, but he would not consent.
+
+The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he said.
+
+"You surprise me, Doctor."
+
+"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week to
+come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division moves.
+Lydia will find enough to do here."
+
+Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short distance; on
+parting with him I told him that he might expect to see me again
+at night.
+
+"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"
+
+"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."
+
+Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said nothing.
+
+When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He looked
+up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing to write, he
+said, "So Willis is angry."
+
+"Why do you say so, Doctor?"
+
+"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.
+
+I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.
+
+"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before I could
+reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that expression; it is a
+good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed, mentally unwell, physically
+ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of sorts. Out of sorts means mixed,
+unclassified, unassorted, having one's functions disordered. One who
+cannot separate his functions distinctly is unwell and, necessarily,
+miserable. Willis showed signs of dementia; his brain is not acting
+right. I think I can cure him."
+
+I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of sarcasm.
+
+He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate of any
+individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that is, sane at
+times, but to find them would be like finding the traditional needle. I
+suppose our good friend Willis would rank higher than the average, after
+all is said."
+
+"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."
+
+"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man for a
+soldier and a sergeant, and be content."
+
+Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge of
+nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this time I
+had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had alarmed or
+offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round the subject.
+
+"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a commission. If
+the war continues, there will be many chances for promotion."
+
+"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a commission. The
+difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is greater in pay than in
+qualification; in fact, a good orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a
+good captain. Let Willis have his commission. Let that be his ambition,
+if he persists in murdering people."
+
+The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words were
+intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I could do
+nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was very delicate.
+Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he was very much afraid
+of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw more than I could see? No,
+that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's
+well-known partiality for me; he feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was
+uneasy. I examined myself; I thought of my past conduct in regard to
+Lydia, and found nothing to condemn. I had been rather more distant, I
+thought, than was necessary. I must preserve this distance.
+
+"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the company
+to-night."
+
+He looked up. "You will see Willis?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I suppose so."
+
+"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left us
+rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very well."
+
+"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."
+
+"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me here by ten
+o'clock."
+
+When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on duty
+somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and everything
+passed in the friendliest way possible, at first. Evidently he was
+pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia. But he soon learned
+that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and his countenance
+changed at once.
+
+"What am I to think of you?" he asked.
+
+"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you no
+wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."
+
+"He said that I was not well?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my life."
+
+"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."
+
+"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain longer."
+
+"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak to Miss
+Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or the other?"
+
+"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said he; "how
+can I speak to her?"
+
+"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."
+
+"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the one to
+speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it. It's got to
+be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's what's hurting me."
+
+"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.
+
+"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over; it's doing
+me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."
+
+"Why don't you write?"
+
+"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked cowardly
+not to face the music."
+
+"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all. You ought
+to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't suppose you can
+do that."
+
+"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall write."
+
+I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said, coupled with
+my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not think his chance
+worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best thing for him to do was
+to bring matters to a conclusion. He would recover sooner.
+
+At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had arrived
+in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the hospital.
+
+"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little less
+out of sorts?"
+
+"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."
+
+"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work, Jones. I
+have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate uniform, while
+scouting."
+
+"And you do not oppose it?"
+
+"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war; all I
+can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it to good."
+
+The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended by
+saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some wounded
+prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles which the
+respective sections were fighting for.
+
+"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout would be
+of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself, as my friend
+Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the best thing for the
+rebels was their quick defeat."
+
+"I remember it."
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind."
+
+"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed. I
+believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe in the
+Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe and you do
+believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to war. But war has
+come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see that an easy defeat of
+the Southern armies will not bring about a wholesome reunion. For the
+people of the two sections to live in harmony, there must be mutual
+respect, and there must be self-respect. An easy triumph over the South
+would cause the North great vainglory and the South great humiliation.
+Granting war, it should be such as to effect as much good and as little
+harm as possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union
+respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to know
+that she did all she could, and the North must know that the South
+proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and
+respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded upon an
+easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not friends."
+
+
+
+XV
+
+WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT
+
+     "The respects thereof are nice and trivial,
+     All circumstances well considered."
+                                      --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned that a
+part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was encamped near
+White House, and that General McClellan's headquarters were at or near
+that place.
+
+Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard that
+the rebels had destroyed the _Merrimac_. Heavy rains fell. Hooker's
+division was still in reserve, and had little to do except to mount camp
+guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr. Khayme in his camp near
+Williamsburg.
+
+I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness to
+melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written to Miss
+Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard time of it, but
+he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a little by taking him
+into my confidence in regard to my own troubles. I was moved to do this
+by the belief that, if I should tell Willis about my peculiarities,
+which in my opinion would make marriage a crime for me, he would find
+companionship in sorrow where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease
+to think entirely of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to
+appreciate my intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir
+up his ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him
+begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.
+
+From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the other
+divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the
+Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the
+Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went
+at once.
+
+"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"
+
+"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.
+
+"Your regiment has had a good rest."
+
+"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."
+
+"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I am
+authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I shall
+be in greater demand there."
+
+"I wish I could go with you," said I.
+
+"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your orders?"
+
+"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to keep the
+adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my whereabouts."
+
+"How frequently must you report in person?"
+
+"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do," said I.
+
+"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I cannot
+think it will be brought into action soon unless there should be a
+general engagement. If you can report in writing every two or three
+days, you need not limit your work or your presence to any particular
+part of the line."
+
+"But the right must be many miles from our division."
+
+"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present right is
+not more than five miles; the distance will be greater, though, in a
+few days."
+
+"What is going on, Doctor?"
+
+"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force in his
+front, and--but let me get a map and show you the situation."
+
+He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread on a
+camp-bed.
+
+"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it. Here, about
+this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division under General
+Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to reenforce his right by
+ordering McDowell to march, thus," describing almost a semicircle which
+began by going south, then southeast, then southwest; "that would place
+McDowell on McClellan's right flank, here. Now, if McDowell reenforces
+McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the Chickahominy, and if
+McDowell does not reenforce McClellan, this entire army cannot cross the
+Chickahominy."
+
+"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.
+
+"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten days;
+afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell comes, it will
+take ten days for his movement to be completed, and your right wing
+would move to meet him if need be, rather than move forward and leave
+him. To move forward would expose McDowell's flank to the Confederates
+near Guiney's, and it is feared that Jackson is not far from them. Am
+I clear?"
+
+"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose McDowell
+does not come."
+
+"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross the
+Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate force,
+supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached Hanover
+Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you advance; besides,
+to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army would endanger your
+supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is an awkward thing to cross;
+if it should rise suddenly, the army on the south side might starve
+before the men could get rations; all that the Confederates would have
+to do would be to prevent wagon trains from crossing the bridges. And
+another thing--defeat, with the river behind the army, would mean
+destruction. McClellan will not cross his army; he will throw only his
+left across."
+
+"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that with a
+wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of being beaten
+in detail."
+
+"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something; he makes
+a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the war department
+already thinks he has lost too much time and has shown too little
+aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring the James River as a
+base, for he could there have a river on either flank, and his base
+would be protected by the fleet; but this theory was overthrown at first
+by the _Merrimac_, and now that she is out of the way the clamour of the
+war department against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan
+accepts the York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to
+prepare, for a change to the James, by throwing forward his left."
+
+"But the left has not been thrown forward."
+
+"It will be done shortly."
+
+"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to reenforce us?"
+
+"McDowell has already been ordered to reenforce McClellan, and the order
+has been countermanded. The Washington authorities fear to uncover
+Washington on account of Jackson's presence in the Shenandoah Valley. If
+McDowell remains near Fredericksburg 'for good,' as we used to say in
+South Carolina, McClellan will be likely to get everything in readiness,
+then wait for his opportunity, and throw his right wing also across the
+Chickahominy, with the purpose of ending the campaign in a general
+engagement before his supplies are endangered. But this will take time.
+So I say that no matter what happens, except one thing, there will be
+nothing done by Hooker for ten days; he will stay in reserve."
+
+"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"
+
+"A general attack by the Confederates."
+
+"And you think that is possible?"
+
+"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And you think
+they are ready to attack?"
+
+"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any rate a
+general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over the
+Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."
+
+"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.
+
+"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or unless
+somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged unless your
+whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There is no possibility
+of an action for a week to come, and unless the Confederates attack,
+there will be no action for a month."
+
+"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates intend to
+attack," said I.
+
+"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you can
+serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You are free
+to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the place
+for you."
+
+"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"
+
+"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one to see
+that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging every day
+for reenforcements; the Confederates are waiting and are being
+reenforced."
+
+"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by going
+with you?"
+
+"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from your
+regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your opportunities for
+service will be better."
+
+"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of reporting to
+the adjutant almost daily."
+
+"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a man."
+
+It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr. Khayme, who,
+on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear of General Porter's
+command, which we found supporting Franklin, whose troops were nearer
+the Chickahominy and behind New Bridge.
+
+Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling him
+where I could be found at need, and promising to send in further reports
+if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this period of the campaign
+there was but little activity anywhere along our lines; in fact, the
+lines had not been fully developed, and, as there was a difficult stream
+between us and the enemy, there was no room for enterprise. Here and
+there a reconnaissance would be made in order to learn something of the
+position of the rebels on the south side of the river, but such
+reconnaissances consisted mostly in merely moving small bodies of our
+troops up to the swamp and getting them fired upon by the Confederate
+artillery posted on the hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the
+22d, while Dr. Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of
+guns in two places, but only a few shots.
+
+"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.
+
+"From a wounded prisoner?"
+
+"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I have
+had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform, perhaps,
+since it has the South Carolina State button, but in everything else it
+is the correct thing."
+
+"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.
+
+"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as quickly as
+possible?"
+
+"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as I can
+do as well with my own,"
+
+"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or somewhere on
+your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor. "General Butterfield has
+given stringent orders for no man to leave camp for an hour."
+
+"Who is General Butterfield?"
+
+"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of his
+camp--Morell's division."
+
+"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation here?"
+
+"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost sorry that
+I have sent for Lydia to come."
+
+"And they will move to the right?"
+
+"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right flank is
+threatened."
+
+"Then why not fall back to the left?"
+
+"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that would look
+like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right will hold; it
+may attack."
+
+"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"
+
+"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.
+
+"But your sympathies are with us."
+
+"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but strong in
+many other points. I think we have discussed this before."
+
+That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again. The
+Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the complete
+abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind allowed him to
+sympathize keenly with the political contention of the South.
+
+We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some one
+approaching.
+
+The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was presented
+to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.
+
+"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he said.
+"General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and proposes to
+borrow him, if possible."
+
+The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the Doctor
+looked at me; I looked at the ground.
+
+The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands that he is
+asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he knows the
+circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere you may
+be needed."
+
+"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is required
+of me?"
+
+"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain Auchmuty.
+"General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as to accompany me
+to his tent, you shall have the matter explained."
+
+The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he could
+just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think myself
+his debtor.
+
+"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."
+
+"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I promise
+that you may return in an hour."
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+BETWEEN THE LINES
+
+     "Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,
+     To know the number of our enemies."
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to me as
+Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite dark.
+
+The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General Morell. In the
+conversation which followed, General Butterfield seemed greatly
+interested, but took no part at all.
+
+General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he said,
+"because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are prudent as
+well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you will get it
+for us."
+
+"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my absence
+is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."
+
+"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he is
+willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is likely to
+remain inactive. I will show you his note."
+
+Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General Grover the
+expression used by General Morell.
+
+"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my best
+for you."
+
+"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you will
+take with you if you wish."
+
+The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread the map.
+I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.
+
+"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you are to
+do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting the point
+of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up here is Hanover
+Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles this side--about this
+spot. You are to get to both places and find out if the enemy is at
+either, or both, and in what force. If he is not at either place, you
+are to move along the railroad in the direction of Richmond, until you
+find the enemy."
+
+"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"
+
+"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg; they
+cross at the Junction."
+
+"Which railroad shall I follow?"
+
+"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn something
+of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if you are
+compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction, you
+need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say less than
+eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get all the knowledge
+you can of his position, his force in all arms, and, if possible, his
+purposes."
+
+"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body, not a mere
+scouting party."
+
+"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or
+foragers."
+
+"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey River," said
+I.
+
+"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which form the
+Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."
+
+"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover Court-House,
+would there be any need for me to go on to the Junction?"
+
+"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time; in
+case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and inform us
+just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if you find no enemy
+at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if you find a small force,
+such as a party of cavalry, you should try to get to the Junction."
+
+"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"
+
+"I can give you four days at the outside."
+
+"Counting to-night?"
+
+"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of the 27th,
+and shall hope to see you earlier."
+
+"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.
+
+"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.
+
+"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to meet?" I
+asked.
+
+"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in that
+case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force of ours
+run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal, better reserve
+your report for me."
+
+"And shall I find you here, sir?"
+
+"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if this
+command moves, I will leave orders for you."
+
+"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"
+
+"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel cavalry from
+the moment when you reach this point," putting his pencil on a spot
+marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in getting around them
+perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover Court-House, and another day to
+the Junction, if you find that you must go there; that gives you two
+days more; but if you find the enemy at the Court-House, you may get
+back in three days."
+
+"Why should I go by Old Church?"
+
+"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end; the
+country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral ground, and you
+would be delayed in going through it."
+
+[Illustration: Map]
+
+"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover
+Court-House?"
+
+"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads and the
+profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to military
+obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force, I mean--look
+into them."
+
+"Well, sir, I am ready."
+
+"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want, mounted or
+afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please have a
+good man to report to me two hours before day."
+
+"Mounted?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations and
+corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."
+
+"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"
+
+"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the road to
+Old Church."
+
+"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night, and good
+luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your success will
+justify it."
+
+"Good night, General. I will do my best."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in disguise, and I
+had great doubt what to do; however, I at last compromised matters by
+deciding to take the Confederate uniform to be used in case I should
+need it. A thought occurred to me: "Doctor," said I, "these palmetto
+buttons might prove a bad thing. Suppose I should get into a brigade of
+Georgians occupying some position where there are no other troops; what
+would a Carolinian be doing amongst them?"
+
+"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these buttons
+are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth: all you have
+to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few moments. However,
+nobody would notice your buttons unless you should be within six feet
+of him and in broad daylight."
+
+"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there are more
+Confederates than Carolinians."
+
+The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto buttons
+into my haversack.
+
+Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I studied
+the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray clothing was
+wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the saddle. My escort was
+expected to provide for everything else. I decided to wear a black soft
+hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as big as mine, although he weighed
+about half as much as I did. My own shoes were coarse enough, and of no
+peculiar make. In my pockets I put nothing except a knife, some
+Confederate money, some silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank
+of Hamburg, South Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which
+he insisted on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I
+was a Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.
+
+Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside the
+tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but he was
+already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.
+
+The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.
+
+"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir," said he.
+
+"What is your name?"
+
+"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"
+
+"What? My friend of the black horse?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"But I believe you are in blue this time."
+
+"Yes; I got no orders."
+
+I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had already had
+occasion to know.
+
+We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine. The
+morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered overhead, and
+Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the handle of the
+Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure that I looked for the
+Pleiades, to count them; they had not risen.
+
+We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops lay in
+bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer; then parks
+of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of wagons, with
+horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met a horseman, but
+nothing was said to him or by him.
+
+Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where nothing
+was seen except fields and woods.
+
+"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"
+
+"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I can
+satisfy them."
+
+At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then returned and
+explained that our post would admit us. We passed a mounted vedette, and
+then went on for a few hundred yards until we came to a crossroad.
+
+"We are at Old Church," said Jones.
+
+"And we have nobody here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take the left
+here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the road."
+
+"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to the
+left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a
+blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had
+nearly risen.
+
+The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant Russell. He
+gave me all the information he could. The right-hand road, by the
+blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek near its mouth, he
+said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River, and at the place where it
+crossed the Pamunkey another road came in, running down the river from
+Hanover Court-House. He was sure that the road which came in was the
+road from Hanover to the ferry at Hanover Old Town; he believed the
+ferry had not yet been destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him
+where the left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road
+to Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a
+considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road. This
+also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my hat the
+several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church to Hanover
+Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I could have some
+resource, but I found that I could remember without uncovering.
+
+The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what he knew
+did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if he knew where
+the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are coming and going," said
+he; "one day they will be moving, and then a day will pass without our
+hearing of them. If they have a post anywhere, I don't know it."
+
+"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"
+
+"No--nobody at all," said he.
+
+Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had swallowed our
+breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee. For several reasons I
+thought it best to take the road to the left: first, it was away from
+the river, which the rebels were supposed to be watching closely;
+second, the distance seemed not so great; and, third, it was said to
+traverse a less populous region.
+
+I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided that we
+should ride forward alternately, at least until we should strike the
+crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones, rode forward for
+fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to him to come on. As he
+went by me I told him to continue to advance until he should reach, a
+turn in the road; then he should halt and let me pass him. At the first
+stop he made I saw with pleasure that he had the good judgment to halt
+on the side of the road amongst the bushes. I now rode up to him in
+turn, and paused before passing.
+
+"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And have seen nothing?"
+
+"No, sir; not a thing."
+
+"You understand why we advance in this manner?"
+
+"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both can watch
+for both."
+
+"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the same time;
+one of us might be left to tell the tale."
+
+I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a field was
+seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and I changed
+tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together through the field,
+went on quickly past the house, and on to another thicket, in the edge
+of which we found a school-house; but just before reaching the thicket I
+made Jones follow me at the distance of some forty yards. I had made
+this change of procedure because I had been able to see that there was
+nobody in the stretch of road passing the house, and I thought it better
+for two at once to be exposed to possible view from the house for a
+minute than one each for a minute.
+
+We had not seen a soul.
+
+We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding forward
+for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and alternately thus until
+we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into ours from the southwest. On
+the north of our road, and about two hundred and fifty yards from the
+spot where we had halted, was a farmhouse, which I supposed was the
+Linney house marked on the map. The road at the left, I knew from the
+map, went straight to Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I
+suspected that it was frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We
+remained in hiding at a short distance from the house, and consulted. I
+feared to pass openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the
+house, for discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion
+of the whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably
+be supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and,
+if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great
+probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the nearest
+rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning back. We rode
+down toward Old Church until we came to a forest stretching north of the
+road, which we now left, and made through the woods a circuit of the
+Linney house, and reached the Hanover road again in the low grounds of
+Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no one. The creek bottom was covered with
+forest and dense undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below
+the road, and kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture
+into the open.
+
+It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three miles since
+we had left Old Church.
+
+In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that we must
+run some risk of being seen from four directions at once, or else we
+must flank the crossing.
+
+By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the way
+until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and bidding Jones
+remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up and down, on the
+road. There were houses at my left--some two hundred yards off, and but
+indistinctly seen through the trees--on both sides of the road, but no
+person was visible. Just at my right the road sank between two
+elevations. I went to the hollow and found that from this position the
+houses could not be seen. I went back to Jones, and together we led our
+horses across the road through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly
+away through the woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two
+miles or more beyond the Linney house.
+
+We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts it would
+be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a mile at our
+left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the left and made
+for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we soon reached the
+Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought, of Hanover
+Court-House.
+
+And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear
+oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover
+Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by the
+enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently operated.
+If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction, were seeking to
+get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this would be the road by
+which it would march; this road then, beyond all question, was
+constantly watched, and there was strong probability that rebels were
+kept posted in good positions upon it. But for the fact that I might
+find it necessary to reach the Junction, I should now have gone
+forward afoot.
+
+I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther forward,
+and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to be one, at
+the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from ten o'clock
+until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our gradual approach.
+
+The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we found it
+always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight of the road,
+Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours we went around
+every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we had plenty of time.
+We avoided every habitation, and chose the thickest of the woods and the
+deepest of the hollows, and so conducted our advance that, remarkable as
+it may seem, from the time we left our outposts at Old Church until we
+came in sight of the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a
+human being, though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve
+miles. Of course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had
+been seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to
+keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there
+could tell whether we were friend or enemy.
+
+At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket. While
+we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that resembled
+the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the sound came
+from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of
+McClellan's right.
+
+About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which we
+could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in front of
+us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the open space.
+Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was determined to be prudent.
+The only question was whether we should flank the field at the right or
+at the left. From our point of observation, it seemed to me that the
+field in front stretched sufficiently far in the north to reach the
+Hanover road; if this were true our only course was by the left. To be
+as nearly sure as possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very
+much that I had not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General
+Morrell had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I
+had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should reach the
+ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that the road did go
+through the field and that there were men in the road.
+
+I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not more
+than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They seemed to
+be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking they began to
+move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There were bushes on the
+sides of the road where they were; soon they passed beyond the bushes,
+and I could see that the men were mounted. I watched them until they
+were lost to sight where the road entered the woods beyond. I had
+counted eleven; I supposed there were ten men under command of
+an officer.
+
+It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left. We acted
+with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the corner of the
+field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then put up the gap,
+and rode into the woods on the edge of the field. In some places the
+undergrowth was low, and we feared that our heads might be seen above
+our horses; in such places we dismounted. We passed at a distance one or
+two small houses--not dwellings, we thought, but field barns or cribs.
+At length we reached the western side of the field; we had gained
+greatly in position, though we were but little nearer to Hanover.
+
+We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and that we
+were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a quarter of a
+mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the horses, I crept
+through the woods until I could see the road. It was deserted. I crept
+nearer and nearer until I was almost on its edge; sheltered by the
+bushes I could see a long distance either way. At my left was a house,
+some two hundred yards away and on the far side of the road. I watched
+the house. The men I had seen in the road might have stopped in the
+house; there might be--indeed, there ought to be--an outpost near me,
+and this house would naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing,
+and at last crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced
+again parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the
+house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard in
+front of the house, and even through the house from front to back door;
+it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to seem as though
+the house was an abandoned one, in which case the rebels would likely
+never stop there, unless for water. I saw no well in the yard. There was
+no sign of life.
+
+I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel with
+the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a field in my
+front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the road there was
+another field, the road running between rail fences. I returned to
+Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence of my long absence,
+and we brought the horses up to the spot to which I had advanced. It
+was now about four o'clock, and we had yet three hours of daylight.
+Hanover could not be much more than two miles from us.
+
+The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily wooded
+hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet quite
+unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I asked Jones to
+creep back and observe the place thoroughly.
+
+He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing now," he
+said.
+
+No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into the
+woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in two
+squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward Hanover.
+
+"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went through
+the field?" I asked.
+
+"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would not show
+above the fence," he said.
+
+I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these small
+bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the
+supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had
+passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several attempts
+made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.
+
+No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went to the
+left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the foot of a
+hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I must go
+forward alone.
+
+To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in the creek
+swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a signal.
+
+I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I crossed
+the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the road; it ran
+up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men. Here, I was
+convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there was a line.
+
+A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge of the
+road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east, nearer to me
+than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone on sabres and
+carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry picket-line. I came down
+from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones, and got ready. I told him to
+make himself comfortable for the night, and to wait for me no longer
+than two o'clock the next day. The package containing the gray clothing
+I took with me. I would not put it on until I should see that nothing
+else would do.
+
+And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went forward. I
+had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I should find it to
+be a very long line; if it proved to be a line that I could turn, I
+would go round it, and when on its flank I would act as opportunity
+should offer. If the enemy's force were small, I might see it all from
+the outside; but if it consisted of brigades and divisions, I would put
+on the disguise and throw away my own uniform.
+
+Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were beginning to
+show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had seen the rebel
+picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed, carrying nothing but
+the gray clothes wrapped in the gum-blanket.
+
+The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were no trees.
+At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could hear voices far
+away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices were nearer--or
+louder, possibly.
+
+I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved off at a
+right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line parallel with the
+supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A rabbit sprang up from almost
+under my feet. I was glad that it did not run up the hill. Voices
+continued to come to my ears, but from far away. I supposed that the
+line was more than three hundred yards from me, and that vedettes were
+between us; but for the vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew
+that I was in no great danger so long as the pickets would talk. The
+voices made me sure that these pickets did not feel themselves in the
+presence of an enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of
+cavalry on all the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were
+prepared for attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared
+against observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for
+that. So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively
+safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from
+them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be in
+their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should think of
+him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he should be
+alarmed, I could get away.
+
+So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I struck woods,
+where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on level ground, and I
+could see in the distance the light of camp-fires, between which and me
+I could not doubt were the pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of
+the enemy.
+
+I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on the fires.
+I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it certainly covered
+more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that I were on the north
+side of the road.
+
+The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right. I was
+beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had reached the point
+where the picket-line bent back. I felt encouraged.
+
+I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still
+pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line fronting
+east. Soon I reached another road.
+
+Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could see, into
+the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt one of the main
+roads leading to Hanover Court-House.
+
+I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no camp-fires.
+
+I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.
+
+A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.
+
+I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star through
+the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north and south.
+The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near it, and bent
+back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon cavalry for their
+flank,--and this flank was toward their main army at Richmond,--my work
+would be easy.
+
+I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More cavalry rode
+by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of any
+infantry pickets.
+
+An ambulance went by, going north into camp.
+
+I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out of my
+pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves as well as
+I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes and twisted the
+gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had resolved to accompany
+any ambulance or wagon that should come into the rebel camp.
+
+Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and waited.
+
+Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was now
+convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was protected
+by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left flank of the
+rebel line.
+
+I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I could
+hear the engines puffing.
+
+From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I saw a
+team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the night.
+
+A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and get
+behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another came. As the
+last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent under the feed-box
+which, was slung behind it.
+
+I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+THE LINES OF HANOVER
+
+     "Our scouts have found the adventure very easy."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I thought, a new
+road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen again, and near by.
+
+The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted. I
+supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere form's
+sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept entirely under
+the body of the wagon.
+
+We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back and was
+walking toward the other end of his beat.
+
+The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an
+encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed clearly
+upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many groups of men;
+some of them were talking noisily; some were singing. It was easy to see
+that these men were in good spirits; they surely had not had a hard
+march that day. For my part, I was beginning to feel very tired; still,
+I knew that excitement would keep me going for this night, and for the
+next day, if need be.
+
+The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to go on
+until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was alone again,
+and with the Confederate forces between Jones and me.
+
+I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that the worst
+was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago, while following
+up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been at any time that
+day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who wore the Southern
+uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part could lose me. I must
+still act cautiously--yet without the appearance of caution; that was a
+more difficult matter.
+
+What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work of
+walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get out of
+these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for any
+other rebel.
+
+But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be accosted
+by some one?
+
+Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be satisfied.
+
+But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what can you
+say?
+
+Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all Georgians,
+and I am a South Carolinian.
+
+The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed my
+imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the place of
+a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier again was
+sudden, violent. I must guard against such transitions.
+
+Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without the
+appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires, by a great
+effort of will dominating my discomposure, and determining to play the
+Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I would go to the men; would
+talk to them when necessary; would count their tents and their stacks of
+arms if possible; would learn, as soon as I could, the name of some
+regiment, so that if I were questioned I could answer.
+
+But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate answer,
+and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you say?
+
+I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could prompt
+such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to suspect my
+being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect that one of these
+men was a Union soldier.
+
+I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook me,
+each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me without
+speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near them--and
+went with them to their company. I stood by in the light of the fires
+while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while they put the
+canteens on the ground, and their respective owners came and got them.
+The men did not speak to me.
+
+I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they certainly
+ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready for action, but,
+instead, they were here in tents and without any preparation against
+surprise, so far as I could see, except the cavalry pickets thrown out
+on the roads. If they had been in line, it would have been easy for me
+to estimate the number of bayonets in the line of stacked arms; I was
+greatly disappointed. The tents seemed to me too few for the numbers of
+men who were at the camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on
+their blankets in the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild
+weather, preferred to sleep outside of the crowded tents.
+
+Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to know, I
+sat down.
+
+One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.
+
+"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should carry
+some tobacco.
+
+"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.
+
+The petitioner refused to reply.
+
+A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a square of
+tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off a very small
+portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in silence at this act,
+which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One of them winked at me. I
+inferred that the large man intended a rebuke to his comrade for
+begging from a stranger. The large man went back and sat down.
+
+"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"
+
+"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.
+
+There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of all were
+upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of character and
+influence, though but a private. He turned to me.
+
+"You are tired," he said.
+
+I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted me, so
+that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had returned. The
+look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it was sympathetic. He
+was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me might shield me from the
+curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they were feeling interest of any
+sort in me. I had been fearing that some one would ask me my regiment.
+
+"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next fire.
+
+Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common saying
+with homesick soldiers.
+
+I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me. Perhaps I was
+thought a friend of one of the men who had brought the water; perhaps
+nobody thought anything, or cared anything, about me. Although I felt
+helpless, I would remain.
+
+A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of my hand.
+The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled; accident had
+helped me--had given me a plan.
+
+I turned the letter over. The address was:--
+
+     PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,
+       _Co. G, 7th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Gordonsville, Va._
+
+I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the street. The
+act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me entirely natural, but
+it was the best I could do; these men, I hoped, would merely think me
+an oddity.
+
+In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I saw.
+
+"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.
+
+"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.
+
+"What regiment is this?"
+
+"Our'n," said he.
+
+"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.
+
+"This is the Thirty-third," said another.
+
+I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached another
+group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward the left. I
+followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, "Hello, Jim! where
+are you going?"
+
+He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to hello; but
+my name's not Jim."
+
+"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what regiment
+is this?"
+
+"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another word.
+
+The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the Thirty-third and
+Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all of Branch's regiments
+were from one State. I was supposed to belong to the brigade; it was
+needless to tell me the name of the State from which my regiment--from
+which all the regiments--came. Had the brigade been a mixed one, the men
+would have said, "Thirty-third North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North
+Carolina"; that they did not trouble themselves with giving the name of
+their State was strong reason for believing that all the regiments, as I
+knew the Seventh to be, were from North Carolina.
+
+I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes, which I
+thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten o'clock. The men
+had become silent; but few were sitting at the fires. I believed I had
+sufficient information as to the composition of the brigade, but I had
+learned little as to its strength. I knew that there were five streets
+in the encampment, and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how
+many men were in the brigade?
+
+Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents, which I took
+for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street was a wall-tent,
+which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of the encampment of
+tents, and separated from the encampment by a space of a hundred yards,
+perhaps, was a line of brighter fires than now showed in the streets.
+The dying out of the fires in the streets was what called my attention,
+by contrast, to these brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires;
+to my surprise I found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the
+nearest fire, and found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.
+
+"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said one.
+
+"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.
+
+"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.
+
+"No; do you?"
+
+"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's down
+that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with canteens.
+You are mighty late getting supper."
+
+"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin', an'
+they jest now got back an' let us loose."
+
+"What duty were you on?"
+
+"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time, but we
+went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that water o'
+yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a mile."
+
+"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you how to
+find it."
+
+"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git started
+right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."
+
+"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past General
+Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old field,
+and--let me see; what regiment is this?"
+
+"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no
+tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no
+tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."
+
+"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I rather
+like it."
+
+"Well, wher's your water?"
+
+"You know where the old field is?"
+
+"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know anything."
+
+"You know headquarters?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the old
+field"
+
+The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with his
+messmate.
+
+"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a battery
+with the brigade in a week."
+
+"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.
+
+"Off on duty," said I.
+
+"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed with your
+comp'ny an' not ha' seed it _then_; you hain't seed it becaze it ain't
+for to be saw. They're put it away back yander."
+
+"How many guns?"
+
+"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em, myself."
+
+"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were guarding
+the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do its own
+guard duty."
+
+"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house down _by_
+the battery."
+
+"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."
+
+"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."
+
+"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"
+
+"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it Branch's
+battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's regiment
+Branch's, too."
+
+"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"
+
+"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's regiment,
+by a long shot."
+
+"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a venture.
+
+"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the Junction
+now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say so
+this mornin'."
+
+"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference between the
+Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North Carolina.
+
+The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk almost
+ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began tearing it into
+little bits, which I threw into the fire one by one, pretending mere
+abstraction.
+
+The envelope had borne the address:--
+
+     CAPTAIN GEORGE B. JOHNSTON,
+       _Co. G, 28th N.C. Reg't,
+         Branch's Brigade,
+           Hanover C.H., Va_.
+
+I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G. Morrow, of
+the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A third bore the
+address:--
+
+      CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE,
+      _Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,_
+      _Gordonsville, Va._
+
+More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of privates,
+corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth, others of the
+Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One envelope had no address.
+Another gave me the name of Col. James H. Lane, but no regiment.
+
+"Time your friend was getting back," said I.
+
+"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd ahead of
+him."
+
+"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven or eight
+hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"
+
+"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"
+
+"Eighty-two," he said.
+
+The other man returned from the spring.
+
+"Know what I heerd?" he asked.
+
+"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.
+
+"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina was here
+summers."
+
+"Well, maybe it is."
+
+"I got it mighty straight."
+
+"How did you hear it?" I asked.
+
+"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had jest
+come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from here"
+
+"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.
+
+"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,
+
+"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.
+
+"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."
+
+My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was Branch's
+command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one from Georgia,
+and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed to be near by. What
+more need I know? I must learn the strength of the force; I must get
+corroboration. The man with whom I had talked might be wrong on some
+point. I considered my friend's opinion correct concerning Branch's
+purpose. The Confederate force was put here to protect the railroad.
+From the envelopes I had learned that Branch's brigade had recently been
+at Gordonsville; it was clear that it had left Gordonsville in order to
+place itself between Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's
+army at Richmond, and thus preserve communications. Branch had been
+reenforced by the Forty-fifth Georgia on the preceding day, and
+seemingly on this day by the Twelfth North Carolina. I supposed that
+General Morell could easily get knowledge from army headquarters of the
+last positions occupied by these two regiments, and I did not trouble
+myself to ask questions on this point. All I wanted now was
+corroboration and knowledge of numbers.
+
+The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight formality
+to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek the path to the
+spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be going for water all night
+long, especially as there seemed little of it near by. By getting near
+the spring I should also be able, perhaps, to determine the position of
+the wagons; I had decided to attempt going out of these lines in the
+manner of my entering them, if I could but find a wagon going
+before daylight.
+
+It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a spring
+after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself by the side
+of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of empty canteens and
+the footsteps of a man; I started to meet him.
+
+"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"
+
+"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."
+
+"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."
+
+"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."
+
+"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if I did;
+you've hit it!"
+
+"What regiment do you belong to?"
+
+"Thirty-seventh."
+
+"Is that Colonel Lane's?"
+
+"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our colonel."
+
+"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."
+
+"What regiment is your'n?"
+
+"'Eventh,"
+
+"That's Campbell's," said he.
+
+"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I, sitting
+down while the man should fill his canteens.
+
+"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.
+
+"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more are
+coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and is
+under Branch."
+
+"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.
+
+"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.
+
+"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"
+
+"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."
+
+"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old Twenty-eighth
+is a whopper--a thousand men."
+
+I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran down
+the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade ort to have
+a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with himself for
+discovering something like a pun or two.
+
+For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, with
+this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I should linger
+at the water, he might think my conduct strange.
+
+Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, venturing the
+remark that these two new regiments made Branch's brigade a very
+big one.
+
+"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us forever."
+
+"Wonder where they came from," said I.
+
+"Too hard for _me_," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; the
+Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."
+
+We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop here,"
+said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that
+branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went
+his way.
+
+And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to stay at
+one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I should be
+stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the fires of the
+Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and lay down. But I
+found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the experience and the
+danger of the situation drove sleep as far from me as the east is from
+the west. I believe that in romances it is the proper thing to say that
+a man in trying situations sleeps the sleep of the infant; but this is
+not romance. I could not sleep.
+
+Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself and sat
+up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no conversation
+with him; I was afraid he might question me too closely, and that my
+replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I kept quiet; I knew
+enough--too much to risk losing.
+
+Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become aware of a
+foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears were confirmed. He
+opened his mouth and said, "Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance
+was an assertion rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He
+continued to look at me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and
+went to sleep.
+
+To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and made my
+way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear. It must have
+been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished feeding their
+mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their teams; then, with much
+shouting and rattling of harness, they moved off. I stole along beside
+the second wagon for some distance, and had almost decided to climb into
+it from behind when I thought that possibly some one was in it. There
+seemed little danger in going out behind the wagons, especially as there
+was no light of day as yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets
+on the road would be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and
+although, too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by
+cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my plan
+was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.
+
+When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about the spot,
+as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other wagons on the
+preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on the left of
+the road.
+
+The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at twenty
+paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution must be more
+than ever my guide; now that I had information of great value, it would
+not do to risk capture.
+
+For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, intently
+listening for the least sound which might convince me whether I was on
+the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that I was yet in rear of
+the Confederate pickets. The east was now clearly defined, so that my
+course was easy to choose--a northeasterly course, which I knew was very
+nearly the exact direction to the spot where I had left Jones.
+
+At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every yard was
+increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and rendering
+probability greater in my favour; I surely must be already in front of
+any possible picket-line.
+
+The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going a
+hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I examined
+the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I saw before me a
+fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal some vedette. Yet, if
+it did, the sentinel should be on my side of the tree. I stood for a few
+moments, intently searching it with my eyes. It was not more than
+fifteen yards from me, and directly in my course. At last, seeing
+nothing, I sprang quickly and was just about to lie down behind it, when
+a man rose from its other side. I did not lie down. He looked at me; I
+looked at him. He was unarmed. We were about eight feet apart. He began
+to recoil. There was light sufficient to enable me to tell from his
+dress that he was a rebel. Of course he would think me a Confederate. I
+stepped over the log.
+
+"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; "why are
+you not with your regiment?"
+
+He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the ground.
+
+"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.
+
+He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."
+
+"What do you mean by being here at all?"
+
+"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to sleep here,
+waiting for day."
+
+"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your
+regiment?"
+
+"The Seventh," he replied.
+
+"And your brigade?"
+
+He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made an
+unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure another
+corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought I could
+perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you know that
+troops have come up in the night? What brigade is yours?"
+
+"Branch's," he said.
+
+"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I, pointing
+to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well pleased to be quit
+at so cheap a cost.
+
+Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged through
+the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute without
+pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face; again I had
+felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too violent transition
+of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar condition which pressed me
+to prolonged and unguarded energy. I went through thicket and brier
+patch, over logs and gullies, and when I paused I knew not where I was.
+
+After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly direction
+so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more to the north; I
+changed my course then, bending toward the north, and before sunrise
+reached the creek which, on the preceding night, I had crossed after
+leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was above me or below, so I
+crossed the stream at the place where I struck it, and went straight
+away from it through the swamp.
+
+After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing my
+course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there was
+no response.
+
+No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My present
+course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I should get
+farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume any direction as
+the right one, I should be likely to have guessed wrong. I spent an hour
+working my way laboriously through the swamp, making wide and wider
+sweeps to reach some opening or some tree on higher ground. At last I
+saw open ground on my left. I went rapidly to it, and found a field,
+with a fence separating it from the woods,--the fence running east and
+west,--and saw, several hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the
+field at which I had stationed Jones.
+
+At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As I came
+near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting on the
+ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I was in his
+rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses; he sprang
+quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the muzzle of his
+gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and Jones advanced,
+frightened.
+
+"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why didn't you
+signal sooner?"
+
+"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I am glad
+to see you so watchful."
+
+"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he; "what have
+you done with your other clothes?"
+
+"Had to throw them away."
+
+"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you are--and
+from that direction."
+
+This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate standing with
+a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels, I had felt no
+visible contrast with them. Since I had left the wagon I had had no time
+for thought of personal appearance. Now I looked at myself. My hands
+were scratched with briers; my hat was torn; a great hole was over one
+knee, which I had used most in crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having
+been more rapid than cautious in crossing the creek. For more than
+twenty-four hours my mind had been on too great a strain to think of the
+body. By the side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general
+questioning an uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.
+
+"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The horses
+have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I need one, but
+it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to know."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route which we had
+followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones the position and
+force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken and he left, he could
+report to General Morell. We avoided the fields and roads, and stuck to
+the woods, keeping a sharp lookout ahead, but going rapidly. At the
+first water which we saw I took time to give my head a good souse.
+
+Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above Crump's
+Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at our left,
+seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I crept toward the
+road until I could see part of it winding over the hill. About
+twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they numbered just
+twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going at a gallop up the
+hill, and apparently excited--running from danger, I thought. They
+disappeared over the hill. I thought it quite likely that some of our
+cavalry were advancing on the road, and that it would be well for me to
+wait where I was; if I should go back and call Jones to come, our men
+might pass while I was gone.
+
+In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow walk,
+another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were armed with
+lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I remembered much talk in
+the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment of lancers.
+
+As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I boldly
+left my place of concealment and walked out into the road. The cavalry
+halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I shall here call
+Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode out a little to the
+front of his men, and said, "So you have given it up?"
+
+"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of it."
+
+"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up behind one
+of my men. We want you."
+
+For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road before their
+eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain cried out, "Here,
+Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the rear!"
+
+"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades is near
+by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he interrupted me,
+crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your comrades. No more
+from you, sir!"
+
+As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant and
+detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the sergeant,
+but he refused to hear me.
+
+This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a short
+while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not understood
+from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct duty that I had
+not once thought of my pretended character. For his part, the captain
+had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter coming into the Union
+lines. This was now simple enough, but why, under such circumstances, he
+had not questioned me in regard to what was in his front, I could not at
+all understand. I tried again to speak, but was commanded to be silent.
+
+This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only serious
+consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he would wait for me
+indefinitely, and would be captured. Although such a result could bring
+no blame to me, yet I was very anxious about him. Concerning myself, I
+knew that I could suffer restraint but a very short time; just so soon
+as I could get speech with any officer willing to listen, I should be
+set right.
+
+The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's shop,
+some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought before Colonel
+Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry regiments which had
+advanced from Old Church on that morning.
+
+Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the regiments were
+under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported that I was a
+Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry had found in the
+woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded, and began to
+question me.
+
+"When did you leave your regiment?"
+
+"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.
+
+"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be sure
+that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"
+
+"The 24th, I think, sir."
+
+"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"
+
+"From what place, Colonel?"
+
+"Why, from Hanover."
+
+"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."
+
+"What is your regiment?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."
+
+The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his
+countenance.
+
+"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man, Sergeant?"
+
+The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, Colonel. I
+only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried to talk to
+Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send him back
+at once."
+
+"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"
+
+"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a smile.
+
+"Then what are you doing here?"
+
+"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."
+
+"But what were you doing when you were captured?"
+
+"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the lancers, I
+was returning from a scout."
+
+"What brigade do you belong to?"
+
+"General Grover's."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"General Hooker's."
+
+"Where is your regiment now?"
+
+"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was there on
+the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."
+
+The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate deserter; he
+was beginning to believe my story; his tone altered.
+
+"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"
+
+"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was just
+returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but they would
+not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would not let me speak."
+
+The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you are a
+Union soldier?"
+
+"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to carry
+anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to General Morell."
+
+"Where is General Morell?"
+
+"On the reserve line near New Bridge."
+
+"Why send you to General Morell?"
+
+"Because I must make my report to him."
+
+"Did he send you out?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to General
+Morell?"
+
+"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about, but it is
+perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to General Morell,
+the whole matter will be cleared up to your satisfaction. I beg you to
+do so at once. I know that General Morell will consider my report
+important, and will be disappointed if it should be delayed, sir."
+
+"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your person. I
+shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim you and
+justify your claims."
+
+"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and what would
+you do with me?"
+
+"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say you are
+not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not need you."
+
+"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come
+voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"
+
+"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union man, but
+you cannot prove it."
+
+"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General Morell, I
+beg that you at once send back for my companion."
+
+"What companion?"
+
+"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany me. He
+is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our horses, and
+I fear he will wait too long for me, and be captured."
+
+"By the lancers?"
+
+"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."
+
+"But why did you not tell me this before?"
+
+"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General Morell; you
+refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify me to you; but
+time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."
+
+Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who at once
+went off, accompanied by his two men.
+
+"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the colonel.
+
+"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."
+
+"But if I order you to report to me?"
+
+"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"
+
+"What has that got to do with it?"
+
+"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to betray his
+cause," said I.
+
+"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.
+
+"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one, after
+having reached safety?"
+
+"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been lost, and
+if so you are properly a prisoner of war."
+
+"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition of the
+Union army?"
+
+"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the benefit
+of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the presence of
+the enemy."
+
+"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our advanced
+troops should be in any danger."
+
+"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking a small
+force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's nest."
+
+"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."
+
+"What force is in our front?"
+
+"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery. There are
+cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."
+
+"And where are they?"
+
+"The cavalry?"
+
+"The whole force of which you speak."
+
+"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day this
+morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."
+
+"Do you know who commands them?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"General Branch."
+
+"Did you see him?"
+
+"No, sir."
+
+"How then do you know that he is in command?"
+
+"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not know that
+General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know that the
+troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."
+
+"How did you learn it? A man told you?"
+
+"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."
+
+"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.
+
+I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers. It was
+easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I was telling
+the truth.
+
+In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and
+accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once handed
+the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in little more than
+two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and made my report.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with valuable
+results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not moved, and
+that he would gladly send a statement of my work to General Grover, and
+would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme until actually ordered
+back to the left. He then told me to go back to my quarters and rest;
+that I must get all the rest I could, and as quickly as possible.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me, to shield
+my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon at Dr. Khayme's
+tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing off the hot blanket.
+Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised her hands; in an instant
+she sat again, trembling. She was very white.
+
+"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you: Father
+prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at the
+earliest." She was still all a-tremble.
+
+"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide from all
+eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the Doctor?"
+
+"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is; he said
+he should be back to supper."
+
+Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have had hard
+work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to know what
+success you have had."
+
+"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.
+
+"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.
+
+"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all night
+with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to learn."
+
+"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest till he
+comes, although I should like to hear all about it."
+
+"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be plain
+with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with all the
+clothes I've got."
+
+She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You need rest,
+though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get some sleep."
+
+When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would not
+come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand open the
+tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and saw my name on
+the package, which proved to contain a new uniform. I dressed and went
+out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking supper. I asked him who gave
+him the package he had put into the tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done
+sont me wid a note to de ginnle en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en'
+dat man he gimme de bunnle."
+
+The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a detailed
+account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with interest as I talked,
+and Lydia saying not a word.
+
+When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for her
+interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I was trying
+to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new
+uniform, Doctor?"
+
+"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her father.
+
+Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and torn--that I
+pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not knowing what else
+to do."
+
+"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the
+conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack Built."
+
+"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the note. I am
+thinking that I'll become a collector of autographs."
+
+"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the log,
+come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he was trying
+to desert?"
+
+"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered with him.
+Speed was what I wanted just then."
+
+"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he can come."
+
+"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said Lydia;
+"if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray us?"
+
+"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the simple
+truth," said the Doctor.
+
+"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had accepted
+his company."
+
+"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain Lewis,"--the
+Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by his name,--"in
+talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your voice loud enough
+for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved you at once."
+
+"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at all.
+Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones would have
+settled matters."
+
+"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you were
+Roderick Dhu."
+
+"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact, all
+those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect that the
+captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command in front of
+Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and that he blustered to
+hide his scare."
+
+It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The Doctor had
+smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not fill it again.
+He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have done a good day's
+work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched between two days. General
+Morell ought to reward you."
+
+"I do not want any reward," said I.
+
+"You would not like a commission?" he asked.
+
+"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.
+
+"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to you in
+many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be really
+lighter, but you would command more respect from others. That captain of
+the lancers will not think of apologizing to you; but if he knew you as
+Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to write you a note. If promotion
+is offered you,--and it ought to be offered,--you ought not to
+refuse it."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that way."
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE BATTLE OF HANOVER
+
+     "The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.
+     Here is the guess of their true strength and forces
+     By diligent discovery; but your haste
+     Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General Morell.
+
+"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard work.
+Have you had a good rest?"
+
+I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I had
+suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.
+
+"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you must help
+me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn will come,
+too, some day."
+
+"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"
+
+"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been fully
+corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some six to ten
+regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or was there last
+night, and is supposed to be there now. A division of this army will
+march against Branch. Now I will show you what you must do for us.
+Here," pointing on the map to a road running south, along the railroad
+from Hanover Court-House, "here you see the road you were on with the
+wagons. At this point--a mile and a half or two miles southeast of
+Hanover--is the road running down the river--the road you followed after
+crossing Crump's Creek. The force which will march against Branch will
+be sufficient to crush him, and we must prevent him from escaping in
+the direction of Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on
+his right. Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--_his_
+right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into the
+Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should simply drive
+him toward Richmond."
+
+"Yes, sir; I see," said I.
+
+"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and nearer
+Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a considerable
+distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he has been put where
+he is for the purpose of observing our right and rear until he is
+reenforced. On the 23d, we occupied Mechanicsville, and our possession
+of that place may have so interfered with or so threatened Branch's
+plans that he will make some movement. The truth is, to be frank with
+you, he is in a false position, and ought to return to Hanover Junction
+at once and unite there with Anderson's force, which has begun its march
+from Fredericksburg to Richmond, or else he ought to join Johnston's
+army without delay. I am telling you these things because I want you to
+understand the situation thoroughly, in order to help you, and because I
+think I can trust you."
+
+"Well, General?"
+
+"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do in a
+critical moment."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our attack
+should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover Court-House, and
+find that the rebels have left that place and have moved further south,
+we shall be attacking their left instead of their right, and they can
+retreat toward Richmond. In case they have moved south, we must not
+march on the Court-House; we must attack their right, wherever that may
+be. Now, that is what you must do for us: find out where Branch's right
+flank rests before we make the attack."
+
+"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."
+
+"Exactly."
+
+"When do you march, General?"
+
+"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You will have
+to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next day."
+
+"I can see one thing, General."
+
+"What is that?"
+
+"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of its moving
+after I report."
+
+"Very well; hang to it."
+
+"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I do hang
+to it."
+
+"As much help as you want."
+
+"Have you another man as good as Jones?"
+
+"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"
+
+"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be thoroughly
+depended upon."
+
+"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you want, and
+anything else that you want--speak out."
+
+"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for you,
+General?"
+
+"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of Branch!"
+
+"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is Jones
+and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be found, I want
+only Jones."
+
+"What would be your plans?"
+
+"I should report by the third man the first information of importance;
+then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang to it myself, and
+report if it moves. You will need to know where Branch's right is at the
+moment when you are ready to strike--not where it was an hour before."
+
+"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be found."
+
+"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such a man.
+He might get himself caught and endanger your whole plan."
+
+"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I must tell
+you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the movement. Warren is
+now at Old Church; he will march by the road that you were on yesterday,
+while we march upon roads at his left. You understand?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"Then that is all."
+
+"May I say a word, General?"
+
+"Yes; certainly."
+
+"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a shorter
+distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement before they
+know of yours, they will almost be sure to change position."
+
+"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed not to
+attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to General
+Porter again about this."
+
+"Can I see Jones, General?"
+
+"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"
+
+"To-morrow morning, sir."
+
+"At what hour?"
+
+"After breakfast."
+
+"Can you think of nothing else you need?"
+
+"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."
+
+"Nothing else?"
+
+"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about that, but
+I know that Dr. Khayme has none."
+
+"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.
+
+"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I could not
+help him."
+
+"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet laughing.
+
+"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for it."
+
+"Well, I'll send it through Jones."
+
+"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."
+
+"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own, or
+rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."
+
+"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there anything
+about it to betray me?"
+
+"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you have
+thought of everything?"
+
+"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind before we
+start, I'll let you know."
+
+"Be sure to do it."
+
+Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man named Frank
+were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I learned, was
+chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones what we should
+need, and he promised to be ready.
+
+In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia sat
+silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left wing had
+crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried to start an
+argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by war, but meeting no
+encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is that I needed rest and
+sleep. When the Doctor had had his first smoke, Lydia rose and took his
+pipe from him. "We must tell Mr. Berwick good night, Father. He has work
+to do to-morrow."
+
+The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia was
+right. Lydia did not laugh.
+
+Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly refreshed.
+While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in with me, Jones and
+Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and we soon were off.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across the
+Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and work our
+way toward the Confederate right and rear.
+
+We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far above the
+place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and then took to the
+woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had ascertained from the
+map, was at the west of the railroad. We were now on neutral ground. The
+usual order of our advance was Jones in the lead, I following him at not
+more than forty yards, and Frank coming behind me at more than twice
+that distance. Jones was directed to halt and ride back every time that
+he should see anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have
+occasion to observe this order. It was when we were approaching the
+Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in
+order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about
+fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he waved
+his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I had pulled
+up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke in front."
+
+I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no noise,
+but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees, which, he
+said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was directed to
+dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn what caused it.
+He returned very soon, and said there was a house in a small field just
+before us, and that a wide road ran in front of the house. We made a
+detour and passed on.
+
+About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the road, as
+I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about halfway between
+Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across the Chickahominy, and
+still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of one of its branches. We
+crossed the road, selecting a place where there were two sudden bends,
+and looking well both ways before venturing. After crossing, I directed
+Jones to take his stand near the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road
+from the upper bend, while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had
+made in crossing the road. We were now within less than a mile of the
+Virginia Central railroad.
+
+I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went with Jones
+toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or rather as far from it
+as he could be and yet see it. Then I returned to Frank and took his
+place, directing him to find Jones and then occupy a position as nearly
+as possible halfway between Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect
+me with Jones and to care for the three horses, which were brought
+together in the centre lest they should be heard. We were now in
+position to observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and
+Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of
+the night.
+
+From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for half
+the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of course, that I
+could hear the trains. Rain had set in at nightfall.
+
+About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up the road.
+I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, I could make
+out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a company. I concluded
+that the rebels were to the north of us, that is to say, that if they
+had moved at all, they were yet between us and Hanover Court-House.
+
+After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much more
+definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones. The three
+of us then made north, through the woods, leading our horses. We had a
+hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the trees struck our
+faces. There was hardly enough light to see the trunks of the trees. At
+last we reached an opening through which I feared to advance.
+
+We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The rebels were
+yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might be anywhere--might
+be upon us at any moment.
+
+Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to find
+that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the north. I
+returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road and continued
+north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half a mile. It was now
+nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods on this dark night there
+was little fear of encountering any enemy; their cavalry pickets would
+be in the roads.
+
+I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles from us,
+and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we ought soon to see
+the light of his camp-fires.
+
+Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of us. I
+directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should halt, with his
+horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I went forward on foot,
+Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At the bottom of the hill I
+found a small stream. Bidding Jones return to Frank and bring him and
+all the horses up to the branch, I went up the next hill, still in the
+open. At the top of the hill I found a straggling thicket of small
+pines, not more than a hundred feet in width; from the far side of this
+thicket I saw more open ground before me. I went back, hoping to find my
+comrades at the branch. As I went down the hill I heard them coming down
+the opposite slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the
+horses struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed,
+and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until daylight.
+
+The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep them
+from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left as far as
+the road, and to return and examine the ground to our right for a few
+hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I went forward nearly
+half a mile, going first over open ground, then through a thick but
+narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a hill from which I could
+see through the rain a dim light which I supposed was caused by
+camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my left, at a considerable
+distance--perhaps more than a mile away.
+
+Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the road was
+only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with woods on the
+other side of it, and that on our right there was nothing but a wood
+which extended to a swamp.
+
+Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they rolled
+themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine bush. The
+rain was pouring down.
+
+At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our way across
+the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would soon, wash out
+all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved southward some
+miles, increasing his distance from the Pamunkey.
+
+We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our forces again.
+Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and Frank in the centre.
+We moved northward, stopping every hundred yards or so, to be certain
+that our communications were intact. Jones was so near the railroad that
+I began to think the train of cars I had heard running had not been on
+the Central, but farther away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in
+this place runs almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the
+westward. In the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a
+greater distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me
+suspect that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for
+we should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I
+decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way
+toward the rear of the enemy's camp.
+
+It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the railroad. We
+still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad at our right at
+distances varying from one hundred to three hundred yards. We ascended a
+low hill, from which there might have been a good lookout but for the
+rain. I used General Morell's glass, but could not make out anything
+in front.
+
+Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than half a
+mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets must be very
+near to us.
+
+Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men keep a
+close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness to bring me
+my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the possibility of detection
+and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I found at the bottom of it a small
+brook flowing northeastward, and changed my course at once to suit the
+stream. I went slowly and cautiously on through weeds and bushes,
+sometimes wading down the stream itself, the water being already very
+muddy from the rains, and at last, while bending to right and left and
+up and down seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an
+infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing south,
+and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west side of the
+railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved from Hanover
+Court-House, or else that here was another body of men who had taken
+position on his right.
+
+Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the hill, and
+directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to General Morell or
+General Porter, who would no doubt be met advancing on the road, and
+report that the enemy had taken such a position that in order to reach
+his right flank it would be necessary for the Union troops to cross to
+the west side of the Central railroad some miles south of Hanover
+Court-House. I directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch
+had really moved or had been reenforced, and to say that I should
+endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again
+through Jones.
+
+Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.
+
+I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw that
+all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to sentiment.
+
+My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket, with which
+I had been covered all night as a protection from the rain. I took
+nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed Jones to remain where
+he was, and if I should not return in one hour, to conclude that I was
+entangled with the enemy, and that I could not get away in time; that he
+must assume from my absence that the rebel right extended far, because
+if it did not I should return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must
+start to meet our advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber
+himself with my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in
+the day. I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before
+the advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed
+upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell before
+dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended the situation,
+and promised to follow my instructions.
+
+Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette; he was
+yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore, stretched across the
+branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a gully which favoured me,
+and crept to my left up the hill. At the top of the hill I entered
+thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and looked and listened. Drums
+could be heard toward the north, and seemingly nearer than before; I
+thought I could hear the long roll, and feared that the Union advance
+was already known by the Confederates.
+
+Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very slowly.
+My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in it, folded
+and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was already wet. Again I
+went forward slowly. Soon I saw another vedette, facing south. I
+retired, and made progress rapidly through the woods to my left; then I
+crawled up a long distance. I had hoped to be able to determine the
+right of the enemy's pickets and then return to Jones and send him with
+my report, while I should remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops
+when Jones should have succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found
+the pickets posted in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a
+very difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left
+Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a prudent
+approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I would retreat
+through the woods until I was out of danger; then I would go fifty or a
+hundred yards to my left, and approach, again on my hands and knees
+until I discovered a man, when I would retreat again, and so on
+alternately. At one place I saw the picket-line itself stretching across
+the top of an open hill, with the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the
+hollow in front. I was compelled to go almost entirely around a field,
+taking a back track for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward
+again on the west side of the field.
+
+About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped in one
+respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more alert, and I
+felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the line. I made
+another advance, and this time continued advancing, for to my
+gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in front of me. I
+thought at first that it had been thrown back here, and that I was now
+going along the western front.
+
+To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went perhaps three
+hundred yards without finding anything, and felt convinced that there
+was no western front to the rebel line. I continued to advance eastward,
+going straight toward the railroad. At length I had gone a quarter of a
+mile, and had found nothing.
+
+Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been withdrawn
+while I was going around the field, and I conjectured that the
+Confederates had become aware of the approach of our column, and had
+retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our advancing troops.
+
+Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a
+southeasterly direction.
+
+For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be well to
+state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the cavalry under
+General Emory, at the head of our column, and had reported to him as
+well as to General Morell; and that our column had advanced by the road
+we had left, had thrown out a skirmish-line which extended beyond the
+railroad, but not far enough, and had continued to advance until the
+enemy were felt.
+
+The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were of
+Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning of the
+battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.
+
+At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North Carolina
+under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head of Crump's
+Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column, which had thus
+interposed, without knowing it, between the two bodies of Confederates.
+At the first warning of the Union advance, General Branch had formed his
+troops facing the east and southeast, and covering the Ashcake road,
+which runs in a sort of semicircle from the Hanover road to Ashland on
+the west, so that the attack of the Union forces against the main body
+of rebels merely forced them to give ground in the direction of Ashland.
+Lane, at Taliaferro's Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did
+later in the afternoon with considerable loss.
+
+Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having moved
+somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our troops. I soon
+became aware of this fact by seeing straggling Confederate soldiers in
+the woods in several directions; some of them seemed to be wounded.
+
+Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this time it
+was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of battle were
+advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me, giving me no
+attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining still, however,
+but walking about in the woods in order to prevent the possibility of
+being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited the issue.
+
+Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I began to
+fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.
+
+An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a southeasterly
+direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring to throw a force in
+the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on nearly to Hanover
+Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment, leaving Branch on their left
+flank and in position to do great damage[2]. Branch attacked vigorously,
+but was eventually forced back. Again men began to rush by me, and this
+time some of them were in actual flight. There were many wounded;
+gradually the woods were scattered over with a regiment or two, the
+troops showing various degrees of disorganization, some of the companies
+holding together and retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups,
+were making their way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet
+all in the same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a
+rallying-place.
+
+[2] On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's brigade.
+The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the Pamunkey, no
+doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating northward. Lane
+was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch for some days; the
+story of his retreat and return to Branch is very interesting. [ED.]
+
+Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I decided
+quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for me to remain
+an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I thought, too, that
+it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out of this mass of men by
+going in a northerly or southerly direction, either of which would be
+taking them in line, if they could be said to have a line. I saw, of
+course, that if I should simply stop--it would have been easy to play
+the wounded Confederate--the Union troops would soon pick me up; but I
+wanted to see where the defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly
+wounded, I suppose, threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up
+the gun--an Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to
+me, the disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the
+stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw away. I
+soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my own
+canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the rebels--I
+became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.
+
+No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen. The
+Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon make a
+stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the contagion and
+ran along with running men, although I was sure that organised bodies
+were now covering our rear. I had no distinct purpose except to
+determine the new line.
+
+After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of the
+scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding about and
+trying to make the men get into some sort of formation. Evening was
+near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me the brigade would
+be formed again and would make a new stand, or else retreat in better
+order in the night.
+
+I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but felt
+confident that Jones would recover him.
+
+As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at last
+ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line across a
+road running to the westward, which I believed, from my knowledge of the
+map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this forming line I
+hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make no pretence of
+joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far from it. Then the
+thought came to me that these disorganized battalions ware forming in
+any shape they could now take--men belonging to different companies,
+and even to different regiments, being side by side; so I got into line
+with them.
+
+I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a spy
+might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.
+
+The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the soldier, but
+they were very bitter against some general or other unknown to me, and
+equally so to them, as it appeared; he had allowed them to be defeated
+when they could easily have been reenforced. From the talk which I heard
+I drew the inference that there was a large force of Confederates within
+supporting distance, and this new knowledge or suspicion interested me
+so greatly that I determined to remain longer with these troops--perhaps
+even until the next day.
+
+It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I could
+see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road to
+Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not see it;
+but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still unbroken,
+under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It would have been
+very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time, either to the right
+or to the left, into the woods--or into open ground for that matter--and
+get away, but such was not now my intention.
+
+The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while on the
+march to find their respective regiments and companies. Mounted
+men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying out: "Flag of
+Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is behind you," and so
+on, thus telling the men where to find their commands. It was really
+good work, I thought. A little before midnight--or it may have been much
+earlier, for I was well-nigh worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads
+which I afterward knew to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond
+roads about a mile and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men
+could easily find their commands, and I knew that perfect organization
+would be effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely
+formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.
+
+By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east for
+perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first spreading
+my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted almost to
+exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my predecessor's
+haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food, and slept soundly the
+remainder of the night.
+
+At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I found in
+the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my gun and
+accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three bands; the
+cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single waist-belt, the
+scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no bayonet. The brass plate
+on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S. plate; the belt-buckle also
+was Federal; both plate and buckle had been turned upside down, so that
+each bore the inverted letters S U. There were a few cartridges in the
+box--such cartridges as I had not seen before. I found that the rifle
+was not loaded, and I allowed it to remain empty.
+
+After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had gone. I
+examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud were pointing
+toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time openly in the road,
+for I was as good a Confederate as need be unless I should be overtaken
+by any of our own men. I considered now that this force of the enemy was
+likely to establish connection at once with the main Confederate lines
+near Richmond, if indeed it had not already done so, and that if I
+should turn southward I should be in danger of being forced into the
+ranks and questioned, so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine
+if possible the left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme
+left of the whole Confederate army.
+
+In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of the
+village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an hour after
+sunrise placed myself in observation between the Fredericksburg railroad
+and the Richmond road, which here run parallel due north and about half
+a mile apart. I was facing south.
+
+About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the rear of
+my left the Richmond road full of troops marching southward. I crawled
+up as near to the road as I dared, and watched them. There seemed to be
+but one regiment, which was a large one. Three or four officers rode at
+the head of the regiment; one, who I supposed was the colonel, was a
+large, heavy-built man who sat his horse proudly[3]. The men marched at
+the route step; the regiment was in fine order. In the centre were two
+flags: one an ordinary Confederate battle-flag; the other an immense
+blue banner, emblazoned with the silver palmetto tree. I could not tell
+the number of the regiment, although by this time I had my glass fixed
+on the flag. The Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed,
+entered Ashland.
+
+[3] Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from
+Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina. [Ed.]
+
+I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained in this
+position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement. At nightfall I
+crept up nearer to the village and found a comfortable resting-place in
+an old haystack, east of the place.
+
+The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad, with the
+purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied by the
+rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw three Union
+soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at the same time.
+One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw up my hands. They
+belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry. I easily succeeded in
+proving to the lieutenant in command, who soon rode up at the head of
+the company, and whose name I learned was Watkins, that I was a Union
+scout. The sight of General Morell's glass had its effect.
+
+I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong force in
+Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town. The
+lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash into the
+place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in our hands. In
+the village were some stragglers who also were made prisoners. We
+remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry securing much
+property. There were a good many horses taken, one of which the
+lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.
+
+The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all the
+country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was nothing to
+hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The general told me
+that they had given me up for lost, and asked what had become of me
+after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my work, and he was
+pleased to say that he approved of what I had done. He told me that
+Jones had recovered the horse that I had abandoned.
+
+As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering it; the
+tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle; then I called
+him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few words I told him of
+my work, and why I had been away so long.
+
+"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to Lydia, too,
+who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded from
+your battle."
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+THE ACCURSED NIGHT
+
+     "If ever I were traitor,
+     My name be blotted from the book of life,
+     And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very tired,
+although I had had a good rest the night before, and alternations of
+walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon despatched, and the
+Doctor got his pipe.
+
+"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on your own
+dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake brought it."
+
+"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can content
+myself till bedtime as I am."
+
+"How long have you had it on?"
+
+"Almost two days."
+
+"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"
+
+"Not just at this moment, Doctor."
+
+"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians again?"
+
+"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."
+
+"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"
+
+"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."
+
+"It was the First, very likely," said he.
+
+This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many times
+before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr. Khayme. I
+thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was that he
+obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.
+
+"Why should you think so, Doctor?"
+
+"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications with our
+Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with Charleston. I know
+that the First South Carolina regiment was on Sullivan's Island early in
+1861, some months before the bombardment of Fort Sumter, and I remember
+reading in the _Mercury_ that the ladies of Charleston had presented the
+First with a very heavy blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver
+palmetto and crescent."
+
+"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto and the
+crescent."
+
+"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one of the
+regiments which were lately under Anderson near Fredericksburg, and we
+know that Anderson's force has fallen back on Richmond. It must have
+passed through Ashland very recently."
+
+"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to know,"
+said I, musingly.
+
+"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."
+
+"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and somebody had
+recognized me?"
+
+"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might have
+recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet might have
+sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to everybody at school
+that you were from the North?"
+
+"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of course,
+some of the boys knew it."
+
+"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man in the
+Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."
+
+"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."
+
+"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their homes; that
+is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who reason, and the
+others don't count."
+
+"They might at least be neutral," I said.
+
+"How could they think that being neutral would defend their homes?"
+
+"And you think that the Southern people really believe their homes in
+danger?"
+
+"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen more than
+one Southern home destroyed?"
+
+"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South, far away
+from the armies."
+
+"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from armies;
+to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."
+
+"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also. I wonder
+what's the matter with us."
+
+"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true, I have
+been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you. Our trades,
+however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this time, if ever."
+
+"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't wish
+to," said I.
+
+"You need never fight another battle," said he.
+
+"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.
+
+"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day; you
+ought not to fight at all."
+
+"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"
+
+"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."
+
+"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall likely
+be required to do both."
+
+"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the
+Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is not
+very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of course, you
+can do so if you insist upon it."
+
+"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"
+
+"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."
+
+"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh unless I
+had other work at the time."
+
+"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your cause, or
+your poorest?"
+
+"Can I not do both?"
+
+"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and make an
+art of it."
+
+"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a terrible
+thought to me."
+
+"Why so?"
+
+"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."
+
+"You allude to your memory?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What effect does spying have upon you?"
+
+"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted in my
+life as when I came back on the 24th."
+
+"You had had a hard time, no doubt."
+
+"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I believe
+that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was a
+Union soldier."
+
+"That only shows that you acted your part."
+
+"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a
+Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the next
+moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."
+
+"Very likely."
+
+"I'd prefer being in the ranks."
+
+"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your
+sufferings?"
+
+"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly contrasted
+with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I become another,
+and I can see two of me at once."
+
+"And that proves painful?"
+
+"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order to
+succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."
+
+"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones; the
+relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But for your
+recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent real and
+practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could not become,
+in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends largely on memory.
+The extraordinary vividness of your memory produces a corresponding
+vividness in imagining. You see how valuable are your peculiar powers. I
+have no doubt that with a little data concerning some narrow section of
+the South, such as knowledge of family names and family history, you
+could join the Confederate army and play a most important role, giving
+to your generals information of contemplated movements as well as of
+movements, in actual progress."
+
+"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a life."
+
+"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my emotion;
+"I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more likely to confirm
+your intermittent states. What you need is to get rid entirely of any
+necessity for the exercise of either memory or imagination for a time.
+To cherish either is to cherish both. On the contrary, any great and
+long-continued interest, which would dissociate you from your past,
+would, in my judgment, prove the end of your peculiar states."
+
+I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time. When he
+spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and hope for the
+best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the total. Keep up your
+spirits. War has many startling opportunities as well as disasters."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were heard miles
+away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the whole of
+McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company was actually
+in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report for me to our
+adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the Doctor's solicitation, a
+few words to General Grover.
+
+This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it, raged
+during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June 1st, and
+did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of McClellan's
+left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in reserve, and did not
+become engaged. While the battle was in progress, intense but subdued
+excitement was shown by the men in General Morell's command, and by the
+other troops on the right. On the part of all, there was constant
+expectation of orders to march to the help of the Union forces on the
+further side of the Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle
+came, in which our men had more than held their own, disappointment at
+not being chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed
+to feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his tent, he
+busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order came from
+General Morell for me to report to him at once.
+
+Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two officers
+unknown to me. The one who most attracted my attention--though I was
+careful not to show any curiosity--was a man of nearly forty years, of
+medium height and muscular frame. His hair was dark; his mustache very
+slightly tinged with gray. His manner indicated an extremely nervous
+sense of responsibility, and the attitude of deference, which the others
+observed in his regard, was very noticeable. His face reminded me
+vaguely of some portrait--I knew not whose.
+
+The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and of a more
+cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single opportunity. He seemed
+to be on a very familiar footing with the officer whom I have first
+mentioned.
+
+General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers. In the
+middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was spread, and
+around which the three officers were sitting. General Morell allowed me
+to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some words of a conversation
+which I supposed had been practically finished before I entered.
+
+"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the smaller
+officer.
+
+"Perfectly," said General Morell.
+
+The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.
+
+"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know certainly
+whether we have the means in hand."
+
+The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one way, then
+in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty our present
+purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single man?"
+
+"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not divulge our
+intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a reconnaissance."
+
+"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is serious."
+
+"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell has
+confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own way."
+
+"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any plan
+might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I should
+say that we have nine chances out of ten."
+
+"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the others
+rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."
+
+The three now left the tent, while I remained.
+
+I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any title
+given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles had been
+suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not know, but that
+they were in great authority was not to be doubted; I made a wild guess
+that one was General Porter and the smaller man some trusted
+staff-officer from army headquarters[4].
+
+[4] Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick
+describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts in the
+newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression. It is not a
+matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before been in the presence
+of the great general. [ED.]
+
+General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the table,
+then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At length he
+looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick, it is absolutely
+necessary for us here on this flank to get accurate information of the
+enemy's strength, and as soon as possible."
+
+"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.
+
+"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his left
+wing."
+
+"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.
+
+"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or not, it
+must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the country, with
+the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can be plainly seen
+from our lines. We do not know how well fortified, or how many, are the
+troops opposed to us. We have information, but we fear that it is not
+reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in some of the most essential
+points. We do not know the length of the enemy's line; we suppose it
+rests on the James River above Richmond as well as below Richmond. That
+makes too long a line to be very strong in all its parts. Their left may
+be a mere skirmish-line; their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some
+parts of their line must be very thin, and it is suspected that their
+left is the thinnest part."
+
+To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force under
+Anderson from Fredericksburg has reenforced the army now under Lee, and
+we are not sure what position it holds. The force under Jackson causes
+great apprehension. From several quarters we get rumours of an intention
+or supposed intention of Lee to march Jackson against our right. If
+there is such a purpose, we ought, by all means, to anticipate the
+movement. If we are ever to attack, it ought not to be after Jackson
+reenforces Lee."
+
+While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon myself
+than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were readily
+understood: their implications in regard to myself were equally clear;
+he wanted me to serve again as a getter of information. My stomach rose
+against my trade; I had become nauseated--I don't know a better word
+--with this spying business. The strain upon me had been too great; the
+23d and 24th of May had brought to my mental nature transitions too
+sudden and entire to be wholesome; I felt that only a positive command
+to enter the rebel lines would justify me in doing myself such violence
+again; I had begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.
+
+"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the man for
+our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"
+
+"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more with the
+view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any intention of
+heeding his wishes.
+
+"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his left," said
+he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on our extreme
+right; we want you to find out what is opposite our right and what force
+extends beyond our front. The enemy's line curves or else has a salient
+somewhere beyond this point; his line turns somewhere and extends in
+some form to the James River. Find that salient or curve; ascertain its
+strength and the strength of their left, or western face."
+
+"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked, somewhat
+hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how impossible would
+be my suggestion.
+
+"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's lines,"
+said the general.
+
+It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice in the
+matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered me; but I
+was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to explain my
+reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity I should suffer
+the loss of his respect--something I did not wish to forfeit.
+
+"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night; remain a
+day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night. The distance is
+not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few miles within
+their lines."
+
+Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no doubt that
+he honestly believed the reputed charm of such adventures fascinated me
+as well as others. But if that man on that accursed night of June had
+seen what was going on in me, he would have been far from choosing Jones
+Berwick as the man to send upon an enterprise that demanded a fixed
+purpose and an undisturbed mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme
+to see to it that I had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should
+follow worse.
+
+But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how could I
+presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general of a
+division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable, and who,
+as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments only, in order
+that he might accomplish a purpose.
+
+I must decline or accept without explaining.
+
+"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is wrong?"
+
+Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no longer; "I
+should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I said.
+
+He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he asked;
+then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection, however; Dr.
+Khayme will help rather than hinder."
+
+"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser than I am;
+if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as you say,
+General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great help."
+
+"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want with Dr.
+Khayme?"
+
+"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"
+
+"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."
+
+"And what is the time now?"
+
+"Ten o'clock."
+
+"Can you wait my answer an hour?"
+
+"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.
+
+The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being treated
+as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if not--if the
+general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and good--I would
+obey without further delay or hesitation.
+
+I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go into the
+enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into the enemy's
+lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my answer an hour."
+
+"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.
+
+I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no unpleasantness.
+Though scouts are under orders just as other men are, it is not hard to
+understand that generals feel it necessary to be somewhat delicate in
+their treatment of such peculiar servants. I suppose that, in the mind
+of a general, there always exists some fear that his spies will not
+prove as diligent and self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in
+my treatment of General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear:
+such a course would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the
+effect of my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.
+
+"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much upon the
+apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to apologize. Give
+me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it, and without mental
+reservation."
+
+"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any order
+to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you know, too,
+that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."
+
+"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer that you
+send some other man on this expedition."
+
+"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this present
+work."
+
+"Then order me to go, General."
+
+"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in one hour
+if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me his hand.
+
+As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the work
+offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some effect on
+me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me; perhaps the
+mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak, had exaggerated my
+fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at any rate, before I had
+reached the Doctor I was beginning to sympathize with General Morell,
+whose responsibility was so great, and whose evident desire to
+conciliate had touched me, and was wishing that I could have served him.
+Then, too, the question came to me what would General Morell do in case
+my refusal was final? And I had little doubt that the correct reply was:
+He will command me. And, in that case, our relationship would be
+weakened unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly.
+Yet, with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this
+frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute could
+occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter extreme of
+mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of mental danger,
+could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.
+
+To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no embarrassment;
+I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered by a doubt as to how
+much I should tell him of the necessity which prompted the demand for my
+work. The three generals had spoken of important matters before me, or
+at least hinted at them, and General Morell had been still more
+communicative. I made up my mind to say nothing of these matters to
+the Doctor.
+
+When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his writing.
+As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from his seat.
+
+"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."
+
+He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it is only a
+momentary unsteadiness."
+
+Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was then in Dr.
+Khayme's.
+
+I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor placed a
+finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking for both
+of us."
+
+He rose and brought me water, and I drank.
+
+Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must make with
+his will against impulse is not easy, especially with some natures; and
+a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield once is to become
+weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"
+
+I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew I could
+not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew the mind if
+ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was going on in the mind
+by the language of the features and the body. Especially did he know me.
+But possibly his knowledge was only general; he might infer, from
+apparent symptoms, that some mental trouble was now pressing hard upon
+me, and, without knowing the special nature of the trouble, might be
+prescribing the exercise of the will as a general remedy. Yet it
+mattered nothing to me, at the moment, I thought, how he knew.
+
+"You will not yield," said he.
+
+I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of
+Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.
+
+"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to the
+little cottage in Charleston?"
+
+I nodded.
+
+"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to will.
+Do you remember it?"
+
+Again I nodded assent.
+
+"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free. If I
+should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no good. All that
+I can do is to say that the will is free."
+
+His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he said,
+although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I should
+surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former ground. Yet I
+doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I wished that he
+would speak again.
+
+"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be unobserved, or
+dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man accustomed to keep himself
+in subjection can fail to distinguish temptation from surrender."
+
+How well he could read me!
+
+"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily weakness, or
+through fear--which is the same thing. But he who can will when he
+desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."
+
+I put his hand away and rose.
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.
+
+"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.
+
+"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.
+
+"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies you?"
+
+"I go alone."
+
+He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He understood.
+
+"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen your
+body."
+
+He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured a
+spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.
+
+"It will be slow and last long," said he.
+
+He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he turned the
+pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I needed.
+
+"Do you go armed?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."
+
+He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the haversack,
+and put food in it.
+
+Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."
+
+"Anything you wish, Doctor."
+
+"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."
+
+It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.
+
+"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this book. Turn
+to May 23d. I will dictate."
+
+It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages divided into
+sections, which were headed with dates for the year 1862.
+
+"Turn to May 23d," he had said.
+
+"I have it," said I.
+
+"Read the date," said he.
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."
+
+"Now write."
+
+The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers.
+Marched at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+"Marched but a few miles. Day very hot. Weather
+bad. Heavy rain at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past--"
+
+"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the Doctor
+asked.
+
+"Branch's."
+
+"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been
+fighting.'"
+
+Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and
+write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the book
+lengthwise, and write Jones."
+
+I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.
+
+"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."
+
+I put a capital B after Jones.
+
+"Let me see," said he.
+
+I showed him the book.
+
+"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before Jones."
+
+"Have you an eraser?"
+
+"I'll get one."
+
+The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B. before
+Jones.
+
+"We must get that dark spot out," said he.
+
+He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf, so that
+there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf above
+the writing.
+
+"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."
+
+"What is all this for, Doctor?"
+
+"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect you."
+
+"What time is it, Doctor?"
+
+"Ten minutes to eleven."
+
+"I must go."
+
+He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me bend to
+him, and kissed me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me through
+our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.
+
+The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My mind
+was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life; but the
+lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly understood, and I had
+voluntarily turned the die for duty after it had been cast for ease. All
+my hesitation had gone, leaving in its place disgust kept down by
+effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing;
+I had desire, but knew it unattainable, and renounced its object. I
+would not hope for a happiness that might bring ruin on another.
+
+To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate; life at
+the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not yielded to this
+feeling even; I would be prudent and would accomplish what was hoped
+for, if my strength should serve.
+
+In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's
+commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had rejected
+it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to first perform a
+duty for which the honour had been soothingly offered.
+
+My plans--I had no plans. I had started.
+
+What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I was
+making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for an
+opportunity--that was all.
+
+The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and bush, and
+many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To follow every crook
+of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of the swamp and began to
+skirt its edge. I looked toward my right--the northeast; the sky
+reflected a dim glow from many dying camp-fires. I could see how the low
+swamp's edge bent in and out, and how I could make a straighter course
+than the river. In some places a path was found. Our pickets were
+supposed to be on the edge of the hills behind me.
+
+My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at right
+angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of them
+successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which I knew it
+would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by the
+Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at times to see
+if it had narrowed.
+
+About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I crossed a
+railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The ground was covered
+with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and was soft and slippery from
+recent high water. My progress was soon interrupted by a stream, flowing
+sluggishly to my left. I sought a crossing. The stream was not deep, but
+the slippery banks gave me great difficulty in the darkness. The water
+came to my waist; on the further side were hollows filled with standing
+water left by the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the
+Chickahominy.
+
+Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was supposed
+the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise the greatest
+care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid stumbling on one of
+them in the darkness, was a problem. Very likely they were placed from a
+hundred to two hundred yards apart, and near the bank of the stream, if
+practicable, especially at night, for the stream itself would not only
+be their protection, but also, by its difficulty and its splashing,
+would betray any force which should attempt to cross to the south side.
+
+But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line of
+vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream, would
+require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line, and such a
+line of vedettes could not well be maintained constantly--never is
+maintained, I think, unless an enemy's approach is momentarily feared,
+in which case you frequently have no vedettes at all. Following up this
+thought I concluded that the vedettes were, most likely, watching their
+front from the inner bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had
+its convex side toward the north, was my opportunity.
+
+I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became very
+great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was almost
+completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge of
+the water.
+
+Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved it up and
+down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the ground. To make
+no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of an inch might have
+caused a loud splash.
+
+Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in it to my
+knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward, raising my foot
+not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye and ear to note the
+slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to my middle.
+
+I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I crawled
+forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than believing, that I
+was keeping halfway between the sides of the bend.
+
+I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute had passed
+I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other at my left. The
+sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the vedette on either side
+of me was being relieved. My course had been right--I was midway between
+two sentinels.
+
+How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that the
+pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills. Lying there
+between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that a picket-line is
+relieved early in the day when troops are in position, as the armies
+were now. If I could see the relief coming, I would show myself just at
+the time it arrived, hoping that each party would take me to belong to
+the other.
+
+But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose any one
+of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan
+impracticable, what then?
+
+I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would make
+some other plan as I crawled forward.
+
+At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets? That the
+country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew, and I hoped that
+for this reason their infantry would be less watchful; but this thought
+did not make me any the less prudent and slow in my advance. I had
+easily succeeded in passing the vedettes; to avoid the vedette reliefs
+might not be easy.
+
+When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just beginning to
+show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and pickets?
+Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought. Why not climb?
+Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the thick boughs of a
+cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at least, it could do no
+good unless in case of sudden necessity. I must get through the
+picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once in rear of the Confederate
+pickets, I should have little or no trouble in remaining for days in the
+camps and in the main lines; getting through was the difficulty.
+Daylight was increasing.
+
+Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to this
+edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a relief
+come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a non-commissioned
+officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty yards of me. I let
+them pass. They went into the swamp. Five minutes later two men returned
+by the same route, or almost so, but came a little nearer to me; I saw
+them coming and felt for my glass, but did not find it. I supposed that
+Dr. Khayme had forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no
+doubt the same non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just
+relieved from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could
+distinctly see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled
+appearance. These men had seen hard service, evidently.
+
+Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men at my
+left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the swamp. These
+men wore uniforms fresh and clean.
+
+The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two vedettes
+belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some way to take
+advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to no purpose.
+Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go back to the
+vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man of the connecting
+line? He would probably think that I belonged to the command joining
+his. No doubt I could do this; but what should I gain? I should merely
+be losing time.
+
+Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate vedette
+between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could do so there
+was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.
+
+Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going forward
+boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the hill. The
+pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could strike between
+the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing might be done. Yet I
+wanted a better way.
+
+Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs of a
+tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come. They were
+talking, but I could not hear what they said.
+
+I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a large gully,
+only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to be on their route.
+The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw them no more. My interest
+was excited. Why had the men gone into this gully? There was smoother
+ground outside. They had a purpose; I must find it out.
+
+Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I was on
+neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least. I could not
+know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every two hours. There
+would probably be nobody passing between vedettes and pickets--unless,
+indeed, some officer should go the rounds of the sentinels; that was
+something I must risk.
+
+I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of the
+gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view. I could
+now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I suspected that
+the picket-line stretched across it; but there was no indication of the
+purpose which had caused the men to go into the gully. My position was a
+good one, and I waited. I could see a part of the picket-line--that is,
+not the men, but the rifle-pits.
+
+Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an oblique
+direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He disappeared. He
+had gone down into this gully, which, I was now confident, separated by
+its width the pickets of different commands. What could this unarmed man
+be doing in the gully? Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping
+that an opportunity had been found.
+
+Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was coming from
+the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the same instant the
+unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he held his canteen in
+his hand. The situation was clear; there was water in the gully; my
+opportunity had come.
+
+I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before the
+vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth of the
+gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side of the gully;
+he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the man I had seen a
+moment before. I went into the gully. I must get to that spring or pool,
+or whatever it was, before another man should come.
+
+Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the spring--and it
+was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little hollow had been made
+by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the hands, on one side of the
+gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen earth would protect the hole
+from the midday sun, the only sun which could reach the bottom of this
+ravine, defended by its wall on either hand. The hole was so small that
+only one canteen could be filled at a time; but the water was good
+compared with that of the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty
+of getting pure water that justified the relaxation of discipline which
+permitted the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their
+vedette lines.
+
+Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I sat and
+waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and began scraping
+the mud from my shoes and clothing.
+
+I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down with
+one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.
+
+"Fill mine, too," said a voice.
+
+I did not look up.
+
+"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o'
+mosquitoes?"
+
+"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was on
+vydette."
+
+He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't git that
+mud off that-away; let it dry."
+
+I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of shelf in
+the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water for more
+than one man.
+
+"Gimme your canteen," said I.
+
+He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap
+Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged to
+the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied themselves, from
+battlefields and prisoners, and the greater capture of stores, with good
+Union canteens. Even while I was thinking this, he said, "What'll you
+take to boot 'twixt your canteen and mine?"
+
+"Don't want to swap," said I.
+
+I filled his canteen.
+
+"Now, gimme your hand," said I.
+
+He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it took two
+pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but knew that he
+was a small man.
+
+He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was new. We
+reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.
+
+Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill. There was a
+pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty feet wide. Had I
+known of the existence of that gully, I could have stolen through the
+picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had it guarded at night.
+
+"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own side?"
+
+"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.
+
+He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes and his
+clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He walked slowly
+up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be within the picket-line;
+it took all my will to preserve composure; I was glad the man was in
+front of me. We stepped slowly up the hill.
+
+I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down, probably,
+half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I was wishing my
+leader would speak again. The nervous tension was hard. What should I do
+when we reached the line? I had no plan, except to walk on. I wished my
+leader would continue to march, and go past the pits--then I could
+follow him; the trivial suggestion aroused self-contempt; I was thinking
+of straws to catch at. I must strengthen my will.
+
+He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."
+
+This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't see it,
+myself."
+
+"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.
+
+"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."
+
+"What for?"
+
+"So I could get some sleep."
+
+"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's shore."
+
+"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take care of
+myself."
+
+"Ben sick?"
+
+"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."
+
+"Bilious, I reckon," said he.
+
+"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."
+
+"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.
+
+"Wish I _could_ see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the word, mentally,
+with a capital.
+
+"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"
+
+"You don't know my captain," said I.
+
+"Hard on you, is he?"
+
+"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out here."
+
+"Bet _I'd_ go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.
+
+"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"
+
+"What?"
+
+"Send a man after me."
+
+"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet _our_ men won't stop you; you
+don't belong to _them_."
+
+This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any eagerness. We
+were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt that my friend was
+marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he was surely on the left of
+his company--he was such a small man.
+
+"Stop," said I.
+
+He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow. He had
+the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.
+
+"You won't give me away?" I said.
+
+"What do you take me for?" he asked.
+
+"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything to
+anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men, I'll go."
+
+"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I don't
+know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want to know
+it; come on."
+
+He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I saw men
+lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at some of the
+other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where my friend had
+halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to cause them to speak. He
+handed his canteen to one of the men; even this man did not speak;
+he drank.
+
+I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The sun itself
+could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken five minutes, for
+the pits were not more than a hundred yards from the edge of the swamp.
+
+Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe. How far
+in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could not yet
+tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when I
+reached them.
+
+As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the pits I
+went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by bushes, and I
+went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast direction for nearly an
+hour. I passed in full sight of the picket-line in many places, and
+fortifications far to my right could be seen upon the hills. My purpose
+was to enter the main Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible
+opposite New Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on
+the night before.
+
+The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I sat in a
+shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best. I believed I
+had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go forward. I could see
+parts of fortifications. No one would think of hindering my entrance. I
+would go into the lines; then I would turn to the right and follow out
+my instructions.
+
+Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was entirely bare
+of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were lines of earthworks.
+I did not pause; I went straight ahead.
+
+A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I
+thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would bring
+them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was some
+regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were going to
+relieve the last night's pickets.
+
+The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I heard a
+cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost directly in my
+rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far above my head.
+
+At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in any
+danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain their
+object on the other side of the Chickahominy.
+
+The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind the
+line of earthworks.
+
+I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although the shells
+went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into the place of
+danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no tree, no fence,
+nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and bare. I was on this
+bare hill.
+
+A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like myself, had
+no doubt come from the picket-line.
+
+"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for the
+breastworks.
+
+The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less height.
+
+One of the shells burst over my head.
+
+Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left hand--with great
+violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious that I saw him fall; at
+the instant there was a deafening noise, and I was conscious of nothing.
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE MASK OF IGNORANCE
+
+                           "I am mainly ignorant
+     What place this is; and all the skill I have
+     Remembers not these garments; nor I know not
+     Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+"Who is it?"
+
+"Don't know."
+
+My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me now. A
+gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.
+
+"Hurt bad?"
+
+"Head mashed."
+
+"Anybody else?"
+
+"One more, and _he's gone_!"
+
+I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but could not.
+
+I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my eyes
+threatened to break something in my head.
+
+I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly, and to
+become larger and smaller.
+
+Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.
+
+The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went by. The
+blue sky was over me. I did not stir.
+
+How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that I was
+conscious.
+
+I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait a
+second!"
+
+A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines ...
+these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night sky had
+been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over my head, and
+the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear of insanity. I
+have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot recollect what
+hurt me....
+
+But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were returning. I
+could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to me, by some
+unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear them
+step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and I could
+hear them speak, and breathe heavily.
+
+Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.
+
+We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a field,
+or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or thought I
+heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"--and again,
+"Hep! Hep! Hep!"
+
+Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is vivid while
+it lasts.
+
+Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I dreamed
+that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the ground.
+
+I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were strange.
+They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my eyes. I tried
+to think.
+
+"There he goes again," said a voice.
+
+I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face bending over
+me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head was bare. He had
+spectacles. He was not dirty.
+
+"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.
+
+I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a tent. There
+were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There were forms
+on the beds.
+
+The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one of them
+raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I supposed so,
+though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.
+
+I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man with the
+spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your head. You are
+not hurt badly."
+
+My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that must be
+true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not unreasonable. The man
+went away.
+
+But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that people
+awoke before they were hurt.
+
+The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He raised my
+head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to open my mouth,
+but could not.
+
+He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head in his
+hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put water into
+it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I drank. Both
+went away.
+
+The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in his
+hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt me;
+I groaned.
+
+"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your hair a
+little, so that I can get at you."
+
+Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my head
+get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.
+
+"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll promise to
+go to sleep."
+
+I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go to
+sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed inwardly
+at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.
+
+The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank. The water
+did not taste so good as the first draught did.
+
+I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would soon be
+over.
+
+When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was near
+me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned, while
+asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another man on
+another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat rolled down
+my face.... Where was I? What was I?
+
+My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to remember how
+I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the place of ... had I
+dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk much water; my throat
+was parched.
+
+A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my dream ...
+then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I was awake,
+maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and this tent and
+this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I awake I shall laugh at
+this dream; I shall write it out, because it is so complex and strange.
+
+The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"
+
+I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The man
+brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers on
+my wrist.
+
+"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his words
+would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could hope for a
+dream to end. He went away.
+
+I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my head. I
+felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I tried to turn,
+but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.
+
+The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and raised my
+head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and then went away,
+leaving me propped up.
+
+Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but feebly
+against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was a man. There
+were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five; five sick men. I
+wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they were all sick in the
+head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more strongly that all this
+horrible thing is unreal.
+
+I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, _six_; how is that?
+
+Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.
+
+Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they? Who am
+I? I know nothing--nothing.
+
+The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said, "Are you
+easier?"
+
+I could not reply. He went away.
+
+I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort brought
+increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I tried to
+sleep. I tried to quit thinking.
+
+When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent was
+very bright.
+
+A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He brought a
+basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face and hands, and
+dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you eat some breakfast?" I
+could not reply.
+
+The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The doctor
+was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The man on the
+pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I could not tell what
+the doctor said. The man groaned.
+
+Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to feel
+hungry.
+
+William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating in it.
+He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank. William
+went away.
+
+The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from outside.
+What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough to the railroad
+to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not from cars. I could hear
+shouting, as if of wagoners.
+
+All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the sun was
+shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be coming.
+
+I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would not do
+for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for a sick man
+in a storm.
+
+But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the reality.
+I know nothing.
+
+The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile in
+return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.
+
+The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who had
+groaned. The man was not groaning now.
+
+The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The doctor
+drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went out of the
+tent. A cold sweat was on me.
+
+Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a corner. They
+took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come back.
+
+Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was
+great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I had
+never before known it so warm.
+
+Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be with
+them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many days; I
+thought that I had been unconscious.
+
+The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in his
+hand--a book and a pencil.
+
+Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his arms
+were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the other man
+also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps officers of the
+Citadel battalion[5]. I wondered what I should be doing in their world.
+Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and for how
+long I did not know.
+
+[5] "The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in
+Charleston. [ED.]
+
+But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!
+
+The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the book to
+the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in the book, and
+gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man with the book went
+out of the tent.
+
+The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his shoulder.
+The first finger and the middle finger were stretched out; the other
+fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his hand and at his
+face, and wondered.
+
+He said, "Look! How many?"
+
+I said, "Two."
+
+He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing
+famously."
+
+He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding stools.
+He began to dress my head.
+
+"Your name is Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of good-will
+shown by his calling me by my first name.
+
+"What edge are you?"
+
+I was silent. I did not understand the question.
+
+"What edge are you?" he repeated.
+
+I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he had
+used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said, "What
+edge are you?"
+
+I thought he was meaning to ask my age.
+
+I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.
+
+"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.
+
+"I am in my twenty-second," I said.
+
+"The twenty-second what?" said he.
+
+"Year," said I, greatly astonished.
+
+He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.
+
+After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he inquired.
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"
+
+"That is my age," said I.
+
+"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not hear?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.
+
+Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a man in
+real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt relieved of
+many fears.
+
+"What are you smiling at?" he asked.
+
+"I've been dreaming," I said.
+
+"And your dream was pleasant?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You smile then at unpleasant things?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"I don't understand you," said he.
+
+"Neither do I," said I.
+
+"What is your regiment?" he asked.
+
+"Why do you ask such a question?"
+
+"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an
+answer," said he.
+
+"I have no regiment," I said.
+
+"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been unconscious?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I shall have
+to send you back to your regiment."
+
+"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.
+
+At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and gave me
+a bitter draught.
+
+I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was neither
+asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in my head was
+less violent.
+
+After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The doctor was
+standing by me.
+
+"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.
+
+The question came with something like a shock. I did not know how to
+reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I had not
+thought of home, than to find that I did not know a home,
+
+"Where is your home?" he repeated.
+
+"I do not remember," I said.
+
+"Where were you yesterday?"
+
+"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.
+
+He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are in South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I replied.
+
+"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"
+
+"Soldiers, you mean?"
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.
+
+"Yes," he replied.
+
+"I am not one of them," I said.
+
+"Try to remember," he said, and went away.
+
+The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the more did
+I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a wagoners'
+camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be soldiers here was too
+hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes must be a surgeon.
+
+The doctor came again.
+
+"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.
+
+"Better, I trust," said I.
+
+"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.
+
+"Fit for duty?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What duty?"
+
+"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"
+
+"I am not a soldier," I said.
+
+"Then why do you wear a uniform?"
+
+"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are taking
+me for another man."
+
+"You have on the uniform now," said he.
+
+He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.
+
+"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."
+
+"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.
+
+"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"
+
+"Yes. What district?"
+
+"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."
+
+"Who is your captain?"
+
+"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said, "I don't
+understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains. Do you belong
+to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Did you go to the Citadel?"
+
+"No; I think not," said I.
+
+"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"
+
+"They are soldiers," I replied.
+
+"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"
+
+"No," said I.
+
+"You know something of Charleston?"
+
+"I've been there, I think."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Well; not very long ago."
+
+"How long? Try to think."
+
+"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am awake or
+dreaming."
+
+"Ask me questions," said the doctor.
+
+"Where am I?"
+
+"In the field hospital."
+
+"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know there
+was a hospital here."
+
+"Where do you think you are?"
+
+"In Aiken," I said.
+
+"Do you live in Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"
+
+"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more questions."
+
+"Give me some water," said I.
+
+He brought the water, and I drank.
+
+"Am I not in Aiken?"
+
+"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember whether
+your home is in Aiken."
+
+"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.
+
+"Where is your home?"
+
+"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.
+
+"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get you out of
+this."
+
+"Out of this what?"
+
+"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things together
+yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get irritable."
+
+"I hope so," said I.
+
+"Ask more questions," said he.
+
+"How did I get here?"
+
+"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my infirmary men."
+
+"What men?"
+
+"Infirmary men."
+
+"What are they?"
+
+"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."
+
+"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"
+
+"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"
+
+"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days; but from
+what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."
+
+"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"
+
+"I don't know."
+
+"Were you not in Charleston?"
+
+"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in Aiken."
+
+His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said was
+puzzling to myself.
+
+"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's regiment.
+I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need something first."
+
+He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went out of
+the tent.
+
+To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything and
+nothing.
+
+Again that thunder.
+
+The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I believed
+he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain was confused I
+could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that was my comfort. He
+had given me medicine every time I felt worse; he was certainly a good
+doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the medicine was helping me.
+
+When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.
+
+"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.
+
+"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.
+
+"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several persons--you
+said something about Butler, and something also about Brooks
+and Sumner."
+
+"Was Brooks from Aiken?"
+
+"What Brooks?"
+
+"I don't remember," I said.
+
+"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't understand your
+talk about regiments. Why should there be regiments?"
+
+"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the pallets; "they
+have been wounded in battle."
+
+I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his words
+were wild.
+
+"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly, "tell me
+what day of the month this is."
+
+"The nineteenth," said I.
+
+"How do you know?"
+
+"Because I read yesterday the Augusta _Constitutionalist_ of the
+eighteenth," said I.
+
+"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is getting
+well. Eighteenth of what?"
+
+"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said I.
+
+"It is indeed," said he.
+
+"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard thunder."
+
+"I did not hear any thunder," said he.
+
+"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.
+
+"What else did you dream?"
+
+"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."
+
+"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"How old did you say you are?"
+
+"Twenty-one."
+
+"Do you know in what year you were born?"
+
+"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."
+
+"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"
+
+"Fifty-nine," said I.
+
+"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.
+
+I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel strangely
+calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my side.
+
+"You can trust me?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.
+
+I looked at him, and said nothing.
+
+"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are thinking
+that one of us two is crazy."
+
+"Yes," said I.
+
+"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are suffering a
+little in the head, but there is no longer any danger to your brain
+at all."
+
+"I think I am dreaming," said I.
+
+"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no harm."
+
+He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong in that.
+
+"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what have you
+dreamed while I wan gone?"
+
+"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."
+
+"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"
+
+"I suppose so."
+
+"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.
+
+I shrank, and he laughed.
+
+"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened since
+you were in Aiken?"
+
+I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.
+
+"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said, "but it
+may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I thought."
+
+"How did I get hurt?" I asked.
+
+"You were knocked down," said he.
+
+"Who did it?" I asked.
+
+"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference which one
+did it; we all know that you were in the right."
+
+"There was a quarrel?" I asked.
+
+"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity at once
+by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did not, you would
+make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you would become more and
+more bewildered. I can put you right. But can you make up your mind to
+accept the situation as it is, and bear up in the hope that you will
+come right in the end?"
+
+I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my mind. It
+was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank. It was not
+fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition was more
+favourable.
+
+"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the whole
+truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist. After all,
+there is nothing in it but what you might have reasonably expected when
+you were in Aiken in eighteen fifty-nine."
+
+"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.
+
+"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."
+
+"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"
+
+"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or at
+least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience from
+October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."
+
+"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all gone?"
+
+"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."
+
+I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it was hard
+for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six months--but, no;
+he was not saying I had been unconscious for six months--nobody could
+live through such a state--he was telling me that I could not remember
+what I had known six months ago.
+
+"What month is this?" I asked.
+
+"June," said he; "June 4th."
+
+"From October to June is a long time," I said.
+
+"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen fifty-nine,"
+said he.
+
+"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.
+
+"On my honour," said he.
+
+"And I have lost eight months of my life?"
+
+"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but temporary.
+You will get right after a while."
+
+"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"
+
+"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am trying now
+to find your regiment."
+
+"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to accept that?"
+
+"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive you?
+Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."
+
+"Because--" said I.
+
+"Because what?"
+
+"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me good."
+
+"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These hills
+around you are covered by an army."
+
+"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.
+
+"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."
+
+"What Richmond?"
+
+"In Virginia."
+
+"And what brought _me_ here? Why should I be here?"
+
+"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no doubt, and
+while your mind acted perfectly."
+
+"But why should I have come?"
+
+"Because your regiment was ordered to come."
+
+"And why should there be an army?"
+
+"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend your
+country, and your regiment was ordered here."
+
+"Country invaded? Volunteered?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then we are at war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"With England?"
+
+"No; not with England, with the United States."
+
+I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.
+
+"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.
+
+"Why?"
+
+"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I laughed
+again.
+
+"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a few
+minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you remember
+how many states compose the United States?"
+
+"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.
+
+"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine," said he;
+"but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the most of the
+Southern states--have seceded and have set up a government of their own.
+We call ourselves the Confederate States of America. Our capital is
+Richmond. The Northern states are at war with us, trying to force us
+back into the Union, as they call it. War has been going on for more
+than a year."
+
+"What!"
+
+"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight
+months."
+
+"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"
+
+"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."
+
+He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The written page
+was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written some eight or ten
+names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B, such a regiment;
+Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on. Upon one line there
+was nothing written except _B. Jones_.
+
+Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date. The
+paper was the Richmond _Examiner_; the date, Wednesday, June 4, 1862.
+
+"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.
+
+I laughed.
+
+He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year. The
+great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and the
+Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he added, "I
+will show you."
+
+He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both sides.
+
+"Look!"
+
+I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow latitude. I
+could see tents, their numbers increasing as perspective broadened the
+view. I could see many men passing to and fro.
+
+"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for miles."
+
+I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face; I
+wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too false;
+at once my hands fell back.
+
+I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none before.
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+ONE MORE CONFEDERATE
+
+     "Thy mind and body are alike unfit
+     To trust each other, for some hours, at least;
+     When thou art better, I will be thy guide--
+          But whither?"--BYRON.
+
+I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the surgeon's
+repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the pain had almost
+gone. My stomach was craving food.
+
+It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle of the
+tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my dream had
+changed; the tent seemed larger.
+
+The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had heard
+them talking before I opened my eyes.
+
+"I should like to have him, Frank."
+
+Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every adjutant in
+the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But he knows that he
+is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are sufficient proof of
+that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows the movements of no other
+brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your company, Captain."
+
+"Can I do that without some authority?"
+
+"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be called
+for, and you can return him to his company."
+
+"What do you think of it, Aleck?"
+
+"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say exceptional,"
+said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide for miraculous
+contingencies."
+
+"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible to
+make it regular until his company is found. What else can you suggest?"
+
+"I don't know. Can't we wait?"
+
+"Wait for what?"
+
+"Wait till we find his people."
+
+"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him then?--turn
+him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I tell you we can't
+find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found it, and that he is fit
+for duty, or will be in a few days; he is not a fit subject for the
+general hospital, and I wouldn't risk sending him there; Powell would
+wonder at me."
+
+"Can't you keep him a while longer?"
+
+"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the matter
+with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to be
+attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It will all
+necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of _some_ company,
+and I want to see him placed right."
+
+"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."
+
+"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before he has a
+place to go to. I think I have the right, in this miraculous
+contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you, at least
+temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner or later we'll
+hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man. His memory will return
+to him, so that he'll know where he belongs."
+
+"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his company is
+found, of course I shall be compelled to let him go."
+
+"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear for him
+unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am I not
+right, Aleck?"
+
+"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"
+
+"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be nothing here
+for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and I'm going to treat
+him better than that. By the way, I believe he is awake."
+
+My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How do you
+feel now, Jones?"
+
+"Am I here yet?" I muttered.
+
+"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"
+
+"Where are the others?"
+
+"What others?"
+
+"The five men."
+
+"What five men?"
+
+"The five men on the pallets."
+
+"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."
+
+"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes again."
+
+"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well. Don't
+bother your head about what happened last century or last year."
+
+He went to the door and called William.
+
+The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.
+
+The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's friends
+sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take the soup
+somewhat greedily.
+
+"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.
+
+"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know where you
+are."
+
+"I know what I've been told," said I.
+
+"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe it or you
+doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"
+
+"Yes," I said boldly.
+
+"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a gentleman's
+voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I thought, vaguely,
+I had heard before.
+
+"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory of your
+own; what is it, please?"
+
+He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that I had
+got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any interest.
+
+"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"
+
+"Be good enough to tell me another."
+
+He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.
+
+"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse by
+inventing a war with all its _et ceteras_. His supposition does me
+credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury. Although I
+have given him my word of honour that I am concealing nothing, he still
+hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in order to keep from him a
+truth that might be dangerous to his health. I shall be compelled to
+call him out when he gets well. Will you act for me, Aleck?"
+
+"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your friend
+will make the _amende_ when he knows the injustice of his suspicions."
+
+"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the war?"
+asked the doctor.
+
+"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the Captain.
+The other man shook his head.
+
+"Then tell Jones the conditions here."
+
+"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say, although it
+is accepting impossibilities."
+
+"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you object to
+my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and so long?"
+
+"Not that I know of," said I.
+
+"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere creatures of
+your fancy?"
+
+The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see his
+features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head was below
+him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young man. His face
+was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.
+
+"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the
+wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present
+experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you
+have had."
+
+Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight tinge of
+irony in this excessively polite speech.
+
+"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any other
+dream."
+
+"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious of is not
+a dream?"
+
+"That contradicts itself," said I.
+
+"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men that you
+are not dreaming?"
+
+"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.
+
+"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me your
+notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent throughout, or
+should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own unrealness?"
+
+"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my own
+existence."
+
+"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore you
+exist. Are you not sure that you think?"
+
+"I think, or I dream that I think."
+
+"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But suppose you
+dream on; what will be the result?"
+
+"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.
+
+"May I ask where you will awake?"
+
+"In Aiken."
+
+"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a year
+ago."
+
+Naturally the remark was of interest to me.
+
+"When was it?" I asked.
+
+"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was recruiting
+for the reorganized First."
+
+"August of what year?" I asked.
+
+"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself. I am
+going through deep waters, I know nothing."
+
+"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you through." Then
+he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He has men in his
+company from several of the districts; possibly some of them would know
+you, and you might know them."
+
+I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's suggestion was
+not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What, to me, was this
+captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had no interest in this
+war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes did not seem to set
+strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those men could get along
+without my help. Why could I not find a different occupation? Anything
+would be better than getting killed in a cause I did not understand.
+Then, too, I was threatened with the wretched condition of an object of
+common curiosity. If I was going to be gazed at by this officer and his
+men,--if I was to be regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie
+with theirs.
+
+"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go out of
+the tent for a moment?"
+
+"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."
+
+"Why should I go out?" I asked.
+
+"Only to look about you," he replied.
+
+The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself so
+strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.
+
+I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few fires on
+the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the whole world was
+shining with fires; long lines of them to the right and the left.
+
+We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.
+
+Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you. Command
+me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me too bold in
+advising you to make no hasty decision which you might regret
+afterward; good-by."
+
+"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."
+
+The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for a while,
+over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making a report. When
+this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This officer also is a
+Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general of Gregg's brigade,
+and is a brother of Captain William Haskell."
+
+The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but I was
+in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to help you if
+we can."
+
+"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it the
+more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."
+
+"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially to Dr.
+Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in Company H
+himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our attention to
+your case in order that we might try to help you, and we should be
+glad to help."
+
+"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any day or
+any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital, because you are
+almost well. Something must be done with you. What would you have
+us do?"
+
+"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to have any
+plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit myself to something
+I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I enlist as a soldier. I
+feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as a soldier in any way.
+Possibly I should think differently if I knew anything about the war and
+its causes."
+
+"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I think,
+Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the war were
+explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to agree to your
+wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him light; I know he
+must be full of curiosity."
+
+"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is going on.
+Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do, though, in
+the end."
+
+"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful; at any
+rate, it can do no harm."
+
+"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that you are
+already a soldier," said the doctor.
+
+"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.
+
+"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we propose is
+to give you a home until you find where you belong; and the place we
+propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know of. Company H is a
+fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I may say that they are
+picked men; the most of them are gentlemen. Let me mention some good old
+Carolina names--you will remember them, I think. Did you never hear the
+name of Barnwell?"
+
+"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I believe
+this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."
+
+"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do you
+know of the Rhetts?"
+
+"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."
+
+"Grimke Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there are the Seabrooks
+and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the Bellots[6], and Stewart, and Bee,
+and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent good old families. You
+would speedily feel at home."
+
+[6] The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in
+Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be pronounced
+_Bellotte_. [ED.]
+
+"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know. I am a
+soldier in a cause that I do not understand."
+
+"And you have done many other things that you could not now understand
+if you were told of them," said the doctor.
+
+"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been wounded in
+the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"
+
+"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.
+
+"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm done. Tell
+him how he was hurt, Aleck."
+
+"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the adjutant.
+
+"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I, with
+nervous curiosity.
+
+"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the doctor.
+
+"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the enemy's
+cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit that you are
+a soldier!"
+
+To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the two
+men.
+
+"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks; you are
+under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may come, and does
+come; you are wounded; you are brought to your hospital for treatment.
+And yet you doubt that you are a soldier! You must be merely dreaming
+that you doubt!"
+
+While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was getting
+angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones, good-by," he
+said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't let it fall into
+obstinacy."
+
+The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought," said he.
+
+"Yes, I am. I was surprised."
+
+"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts; they lie
+there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all. I suppose
+they think that they are dreaming."
+
+At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it was that
+my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then, too, it was
+pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.
+
+"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three days will
+set you up."
+
+"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies, and war,
+and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"
+
+"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are now
+convinced that there is a war?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it ought to
+be enough for you to know that your country is in danger. Are you
+a patriot?"
+
+"I trust so."
+
+"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have talked long
+enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a night-cap."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my
+progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my
+curiosity.
+
+"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot," said he.
+
+"I trust I am," said I.
+
+"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are insulted. Our
+men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and hopes to conquer. Can
+you hesitate?"
+
+"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But how can
+you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits of the cause
+for which I am told to fight?"
+
+"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government is
+concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a
+Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep from
+serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I will not
+suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to answer any
+question you may ask about the causes of the war. You ought to have your
+mind satisfied, if it be possible."
+
+"What are they fighting about?"
+
+"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into
+existence?"
+
+"Yes, I think so," said I.
+
+"Tell me."
+
+"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their independence
+in war," said I.
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates framed a
+constitution."
+
+"Well; what then?"
+
+"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."
+
+"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of the
+constitutional convention?" he asked.
+
+"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.
+
+"Then do you think the States created the general government? Think a
+little before you answer."
+
+"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."
+
+"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the Federal
+government, or did the people of the whole United States, acting as a
+body-politic, create it?"
+
+"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.
+
+"In what respect?"
+
+"It makes the United States exist before the United States came into
+existence," said I.
+
+"Then what would your answer be?"
+
+"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent delegates. The
+delegates, representing the respective States, framed the constitution.
+The people, if I mistake not, ratified the constitution, each State
+voting separately. Therefore I think that the United States government
+is a creature of the States and not of the people as a body-politic; for
+there could have been no such body-politic."
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you ought never
+to have entered military service."
+
+"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for a time
+to enter into the agreement."
+
+"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States have
+compelled them to come in?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot say as to that," said I.
+
+"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce them?"
+
+"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot very well
+see what ought to have been done."
+
+"The two States would have had some rights?"
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"What rights would the United States have had over the two States?"
+
+"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but the
+people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not think
+that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new republic by
+refusing to enter it. But there may have been something peculiar in
+Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should say that the
+question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode Island's
+objections should have been considered and removed. A forced agreement
+would be no agreement."
+
+"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all their
+rights?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"What rights did they retain?"
+
+"They retained everything they did not surrender."
+
+"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces? Did
+they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"
+
+"I think not."
+
+"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for the
+general good of all?"
+
+"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word 'partnership'
+is the correct term."
+
+"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A confederacy?"
+
+"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The title
+of the republic means a union."
+
+"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"
+
+"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word 'union'
+seems to me to imply greater permanence."
+
+"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"
+
+"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all
+time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were
+differences, even among the framers of the constitution."
+
+"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should believe that
+their interests were being destroyed and that injustice was being done."
+
+"The several branches of government should prevent that," said I.
+
+"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government were
+united in perpetrating this injustice."
+
+"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.
+
+"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in Congress had
+been elected by their opponents; that the President and the judges were
+all against them."
+
+"The will of the majority should rule," said I.
+
+"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself must be
+given up or defended?"
+
+"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.
+
+"Ought they to endure tamely?"
+
+"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it seems
+that the constitution should have provided some remedy."
+
+"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours, should
+conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except in
+withdrawing from the partnership, or union."
+
+"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps a
+dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge of
+such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank concerning
+politics."
+
+"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that step, in
+the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace; would her
+citizens be bound by her action?"
+
+"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being the case,
+every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long as he remains
+a citizen."
+
+"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable withdrawal
+is met by United States armies trying to force her back into the Union.
+Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a citizen of South
+Carolina?"
+
+"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State, he must
+obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of it."
+
+"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are invading his
+State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"
+
+"I think no man would do that."
+
+"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of his
+State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his help, and
+influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that South Carolina
+should allow any of her citizens to leave her in this crisis?"
+
+"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms would thus
+be allowed to go."
+
+"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"
+
+"In a certain sense--yes."
+
+"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"
+
+"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to reply, I
+should say no."
+
+"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military service,
+is it not your duty to serve?"
+
+"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me serve?"
+
+"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to serve his
+country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that a man should
+obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."
+
+"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."
+
+"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the country?"
+
+"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no exception to
+rules?"
+
+"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not exist
+in time of war. The Confederate States have called into military service
+all males between eighteen and forty-five. You could not leave the
+country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an impersonal sense--even
+if you should wish to leave it. Every man is held subject to military
+service; as you have already said, the State would commit suicide if she
+renounced the population from which she gets her soldiers. But, in any
+case, what would you do if you were not forced into service?"
+
+"I am helpless," I said gloomily.
+
+"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not helpless.
+What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can attach, you to
+any company that you may choose, with the condition that as soon as your
+friends are found you are to be handed over to them--I mean, of course,
+handed over to your original company. It seems to me that such a course
+is not merely the best thing to do, but the only thing to do."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under very heavy
+obligations. You have done much yourself, and your friends show me
+kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask you to act for me. I
+know the delicacy of your offer. Another man might have refused to
+discuss or explain; he had the power to simply order me back into
+the ranks."
+
+"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have been
+exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's duty to
+his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army regulations
+applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept here without
+authority, except the general authority which empowers the surgeon to
+help the wounded. But I have no control over you whatever. If you
+choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this hospital. I cannot
+make a report of your case on any form furnished me. It was this
+difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the brigade adjutant to visit
+you; while the matter is irregular, it is, however, known at brigade
+headquarters, so that it is in as good a shape as we know how to put it.
+I cannot order you back into the ranks; you would not know what to do
+with yourself; what I suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter
+of being supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that
+you are still in the service and are obeying authority."
+
+"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the possibility of
+being charged with desertion."
+
+"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must get
+authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect you
+fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and the
+adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without leave. I must
+quit you for a while."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my part, to
+find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the proposition
+to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard to my original
+company, and had at last confessed to myself that it was due to
+exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my company? should I
+recognize them? No; they would know me, but I should not know them. This
+thought had been strong in holding me back from yielding to the doctor's
+views; I had an almost morbid dread of being considered a curiosity. So,
+I did not want to go back to my company; and as for going into Captain
+Haskell's company, I considered that project but a temporary
+expedient--my people would soon be found and I should be forced back
+where I belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to
+keep out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go
+away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only keep
+me from being advertised and gazed upon.
+
+Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought before me
+the probability of my being already reported absent without leave, and
+the consequent possibility of being charged with desertion, I decided at
+once that I should go with Captain Haskell. Whatever I might once have
+been, and whatever I might yet become, I was not and never should be
+a deserter.
+
+When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong enough for
+duty.
+
+"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong enough to
+march in case the army should move. I do not intend, however, to let you
+go at once, unless there should be a movement; in that case I could not
+well keep you any longer."
+
+I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish to
+delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to enroll
+me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick list for a few
+days, in order that I might accustom myself gradually to new conditions.
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+COMPANY H
+
+                              "In strange eyes
+     Have made me not a stranger; to the mind
+     Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;
+     Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find
+     A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.
+
+In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation recounted
+above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short walk.
+
+From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see northward and
+toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents and cannon, and rows
+of stacked muskets and all the appliances of war. The sight was new and
+strange. I had never before seen at one time more than a battalion of
+soldiers; now here was an army into which I had been suddenly thrust as
+a part of it, without experience of any sort and without knowledge of
+anybody in it except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had
+never heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army
+had been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true that
+I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my misfortune had
+deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had decided my duty as to
+that cause; yet it now appealed to me so little, that I was conscious of
+struggling to rise above indifference. I reproached myself for lack of
+patriotism. I had read the morning's _Dispatch_ and had been shocked at
+the relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the
+part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against the
+wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me that my
+passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this peculiarity seemed so
+unimportant in comparison with the greater one which marked me, that it
+gave me no concern.
+
+In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum and the
+fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming and going. A
+line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched by, going somewhere.
+They had no uniform; I supposed they were recruits. A group of mounted
+men attracted me; I had little doubt that here was some general with his
+staff. Flags were everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked
+by stars.
+
+A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I started
+to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"
+
+He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.
+
+When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade is?"
+
+"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the hospital
+tents, I suppose."
+
+"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about here," said
+he.
+
+"I will go with you to the tent," said I.
+
+"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some days on
+duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in charge of the
+hospital?"
+
+"Dr. Frost," said I.
+
+"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our
+orderly-sergeant."
+
+By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men, and I
+looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I wanted to ask
+him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest he should
+afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be curious.
+However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was, would hardly
+become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked saying that I
+understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant in some company
+or other.
+
+"Yes; Company H," said he.
+
+"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."
+
+"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said he.
+
+"You like your company?"
+
+"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own company;
+I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better now."
+
+"You couldn't be under better care," said he.
+
+When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.
+
+"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I reckon, and
+I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment do you
+belong to?"
+
+The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know; to my
+intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he cried,
+"There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook hands. I
+besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he understood,
+and nodded.
+
+The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the
+regiment?"
+
+"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and Bellot soon
+went off.
+
+"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you and he
+are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you here to-day,
+he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but we'll hope for
+the best."
+
+"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees me
+again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very ragged,
+and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking of my
+strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become indebted to you
+for something besides your professional skill, Doctor."
+
+"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want, if I
+can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he will not
+come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your first service as
+light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if you have forgotten
+your drill!"
+
+"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did know
+anything about it."
+
+"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you may have
+lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In three days
+under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every manoeuvre. Just
+get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and you'll do eight of 'em
+without reflection."
+
+"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said I.
+
+"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I did not budge, but stood stiff.
+
+"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do _so_," said he.
+
+"_Right_--FACE!"
+
+I imitated the surgeon.
+
+"FRONT!--that's right--_Left_--FACE! That's good--FRONT!--all right; now
+again--_Right_--FACE!--FRONT!--_Left_--FACE!--FRONT!--_About_--put your
+right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind; it will all
+come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H many a day."
+
+I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection for me,
+though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of proprietorship
+acquired through discovery, so to speak.
+
+After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to Company H.
+W'ell drive over in an ambulance."
+
+From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the crest
+of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds were aglow
+with light. "McClellan's army," said he.
+
+"Whose army?" I asked.
+
+"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."
+
+"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.
+
+"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.
+
+"And their camp-fires make all that light?"
+
+"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."
+
+Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as the men
+had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be seen a
+blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and, underneath, a bed
+of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours abounded. The Captain
+himself had no tent; we found him sitting with his back to a tree near
+which was his little fly stretched over his sleeping-place. Several
+officers were around him. He shook the doctor's hand, but said nothing
+to me. The officers left us.
+
+"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that you may
+tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to his first
+service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."
+
+"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.
+
+"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got the cart
+before the horse."
+
+"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones Berwick."
+
+"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it is
+written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick instead of
+Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."
+
+"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of Private
+Berwick," said I.
+
+"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name reversed, that
+is a small matter which will straighten itself out when you recover your
+memory. What I was going to say is, that you may be received into my
+company as a recruit, as it were, but to be returned to your original
+company whenever we learn what company that is. We will continue,
+through brigade headquarters, to try to find out what regiment you are
+from--and under both of your names. While you are with me I shall
+cheerfully do for you all that I can to favour your condition. You will
+be expected, however, to do a man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."
+
+The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used toward me in
+the tent; his voice was stern and his manner frigid.
+
+"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued, "and will
+keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your case; for I can
+well understand, although you have said nothing about it, sir, that you
+do not wish confidences."
+
+His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."
+
+"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his official
+voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an ordinary recruit;
+we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I shall at once make a
+requisition for your arms and accoutrements, your knapsack, uniform, and
+everything else necessary for you. You may remain in the hospital until
+your equipment is ready for you. Report to me day after to-morrow at
+noon, and I will receive you into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it
+is time for prayers."
+
+The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book in his
+hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the doctor told
+me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch. Some of the men
+heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed heads.
+
+The Captain began to read:--
+
+"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all just
+works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the world
+cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy commandments, and
+also that by Thee, we, being defended from the fear of our enemies, may
+pass our time in rest and quietness, through the merits of Jesus Christ
+our Saviour.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have been
+preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all perils and
+dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our Saviour,
+Jesus Christ.
+
+"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the Universe,
+who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon earth, most
+heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and bless Thy servant
+the President of the Confederate States, and all others in authority;
+and so replenish them with the grace of Thy Holy Spirit that they may
+always incline to Thy will, and walk in Thy way. Endue them plenteously
+with heavenly gifts, grant them in health, and prosperity long to live;
+and finally, after this life, to attain everlasting joy and felicity,
+through Jesus Christ our Lord.
+
+"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly beseech Thee
+for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst be pleased to
+make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to all nations. More
+especially we pray for Thy holy church universal, that it may be so
+guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all who profess and call
+themselves Christians may be led into the way of truth, and hold the
+faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of peace, and in righteousness of
+life. Finally, we commend to Thy fatherly goodness all who are in any
+ways afflicted or distressed in mind, body, or estate, that it may
+please Thee to comfort and relieve them, according to their several
+necessities, giving them patience under their sufferings, and a happy
+issue out of all their afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's
+sake. Amen."
+
+While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness outside
+of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.
+
+Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he was
+good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead of
+another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I should be
+without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have sent me to the
+general hospital, whence I should have been remanded to duty; and
+failing to know my regiment, I should have been apprehended as a
+deserter. At the best, even if other people had recognized the nature of
+my trouble, I should have been subjected then and always to the vulgar
+curiosity which I so greatly dreaded. Here in Company H nobody would
+know me except as an ordinary recruit.
+
+The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and said,
+"Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."
+
+"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr. Frost
+sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own company at
+any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if you do not find
+it. You are not under my orders until you come to me."
+
+As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me seriously,
+"You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones. How did
+you get my name reversed?"
+
+"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B. Jones,'"
+he said.
+
+"Will you let me see the diary?"
+
+"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to have
+done so before."
+
+The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small blank book
+for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862. Only a very few
+dates in this book are filled with writing. On the fly-leaf is "B.
+Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name having been all torn
+away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends with May 27th. The writing
+has been done with a pencil. I copy below all that the book contains:--
+
+"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.
+
+"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather clear."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.
+
+"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at night."
+
+"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.
+
+"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.
+
+"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain at
+night."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.
+
+"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had
+been fighting."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Each page in the book is divided into three sections.
+
+After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said to the
+surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe that I ever
+wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain that I could not
+have written B. Jones as my name."
+
+The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take this
+paper and write at my dictation."
+
+He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a battle
+ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been fighting."
+
+"Now let us compare them," said he.
+
+The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the paper.
+
+"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones Berwick?"
+
+"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do know."
+
+"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book, what would
+you have said?"
+
+"That the book was never mine, of course."
+
+"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor. "Many cases
+have been known of patients whose handwriting had changed completely.
+The truth is, that I did not expect to see you write as you did
+just now."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.
+
+"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name is
+Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at all--any part
+of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do this and do that;
+there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the mind. I'd rather risk
+that signature which you made before you were hurt."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be trusted. It
+is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower part of the leaf
+has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why, of course, to destroy
+the name of the regiment to which the owner belonged! B. Jones is common
+enough; Jones Berwick is not so common. I found it, or else it got into
+my pocket by mistake. No wonder that a man named Jones is not
+called for."
+
+"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is identical?
+Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we cannot account for
+the rest unless you wrote it. It is very romantic, and all that, to say
+that somebody imitated your handwriting in the body of the book, but it
+is very far-fetched. Find some other theory."
+
+"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.
+
+"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third you
+began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where you had
+been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had kept one, at
+home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days ago."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.
+
+"By the by, let me see that book a moment."
+
+I handed it to him.
+
+"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I wanted to
+see who printed it."
+
+"What would that have shown?"
+
+"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or perhaps
+Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."
+
+"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."
+
+"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make inquiries for
+the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is missing. Now do you
+go to bed and go to sleep."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.
+
+The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face I saw in
+the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at least ten years
+older. Needless to describe it, if I could.
+
+After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful duty,--I made
+a different appearance, and felt better, not only on account of the
+physical change, but also, I suppose, because my mind was now settled
+upon myself as a volunteer soldier.
+
+Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see me;
+Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a man who
+would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to give them no
+hint of the truth. He replied that it would be difficult to keep them in
+the dark, for they wouldn't see why a man, already wearing uniform,
+should offer himself as a member of Company H.
+
+"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said he.
+
+To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If I had
+any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other clothing."
+
+"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots of it."
+
+"Where?"
+
+"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me; besides,
+the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every volunteer. Your
+bounty will purchase clothing, if you are determined to squander your
+estate. Captain Haskell would be able to secure you what you want; your
+bounty is good for it."
+
+"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.
+
+"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was thinking, for
+the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the tables on me. Yes;
+you have already received the bounty; maybe you haven't yet spent it,
+though. I'll look up the contents of your pockets; I hope nothing's
+been lost."
+
+He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as well as
+a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in Confederate
+notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South Carolina, and
+more than four dollars in silver.
+
+"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do you want
+to do with all that?"
+
+"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.
+
+"Why old?"
+
+"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."
+
+"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we march, it
+will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer stuff; I know what
+to do. How you held on to that silver so long is a mystery."
+
+The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the Bellots
+came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The elder Bellot had
+already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did not seem to recognize
+me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man, fully six feet, with a slight
+stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes or a better face; he, too, wore a
+full beard. His name was Louis, yet his brother called him Joe. I took a
+liking to both Dave and Joe.
+
+The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the regiment
+was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a State regiment
+before the Confederate States had existed--that is to say, it had been
+organized by South Carolina alone, before any other State had seceded;
+it had seen service on the islands near Charleston.
+
+A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave Bellot,
+especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of which I was
+utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.
+
+"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."
+
+"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but I am
+not familiar with the city."
+
+"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."
+
+Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie, and I
+nodded assent.
+
+"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns of
+Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the Cadets
+had fired on the _Star of the West_; we thought Sumter would sink us,
+but she didn't say a word."
+
+I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that these men
+had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me. Momentarily I expected
+either of them to blurt out, "Where are you from?" and I had no answer
+ready. Afterward I learned that I was already known as an Aiken man, in
+default of better,--the doctor having considerately relieved me from
+anticipated danger.
+
+"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the Confederate
+service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time expired in June.
+It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and discharged, and at once
+reorganized under the same field-officers."
+
+I did not very well know what a field-officer is.
+
+"Who is the colonel?" I asked.
+
+"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called him once
+in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters, and it was
+the day for general inspection of the camp. We had scoured our tin
+plates and had made up our bunks and washed up generally, and every man
+was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I had my back to the door, and
+I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder when Old Headquarters will be
+here.' You never were so scared in your life as I was when I heard a
+loud voice at the door say, 'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the
+colonel walked in."
+
+I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is Suffolk?"
+
+"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was in the
+Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post, though. He
+commands our brigade now."
+
+"Where did you go from Suffolk?"
+
+"To Goldsborough."
+
+"Where is that?" I asked.
+
+"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island it was
+thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and Wilmington
+railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were brigaded with some
+tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson and the lot of us were
+sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put under Gregg again until we
+reached Richmond."
+
+"How many regiments are in the brigade?"
+
+"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's Rifles."
+
+"All from South Carolina?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.
+
+"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very near
+getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."
+
+"Where is Hanover?" I asked.
+
+"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure to get
+into that fight, but we were too late for it."
+
+The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They
+especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared
+that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some others
+which they could name.
+
+Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I flattered myself
+with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit influenced by some
+acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.
+
+Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his brother, and
+then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know anybody in
+the company?"
+
+"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply relying on
+Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely on his judgment
+more than on my own."
+
+"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you can do
+better."
+
+I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to accept his
+offer.
+
+"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was walking
+a short way with the brothers as they returned to their camp. "No,"
+said I.
+
+"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of warfare."
+
+"What are they doing?" I asked.
+
+"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into regiments
+of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans, has several
+regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of one of our
+brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in that State are
+enticing the negroes away from their owners and putting arms into
+their hands."
+
+"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from saying more.
+The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at the time that New
+Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his saying that Butler had
+regiments of negroes seemed queer.
+
+"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's insurrection,"
+said Bellot.
+
+A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot
+continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading of
+Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!
+
+"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of secession,
+and they have split Virginia into two States. In my opinion, they are
+fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure selfishness: they know
+that they live on the trade of the South, and that they cannot make as
+much money if they let us go to ourselves."
+
+"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of course
+there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good mistakenly,
+but the mass of the people are blindly following the counsels of those
+who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed men, the manufacturers,
+and the great merchants of the North thought for one moment that they
+would lose some of their dollars by the war, the war would end. What
+care they for us? They care only for themselves. They plunge the whole
+country into mourning simply in order to keep control of the trade of
+the South."
+
+Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West Virginia by
+the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent, mentally vowing that
+I should at once read the history of events since 1859. So I sought Dr.
+Frost, and begged him to help me get books or papers which would give me
+the information I needed; for otherwise, I told him, I should be unable
+to talk with any consistency or method.
+
+"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in print that
+would give you just what you want. We might get files of newspapers--but
+that would be too voluminous reading and too redundant. You ought to
+have something concise--some outline; and where to get it I can't tell
+you." Then, as the thought struck him, he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll
+make it! You write while I dictate."
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+A LESSON IN HISTORY
+
+     "So that, from point to point, now have you heard
+     The fundamental reasons of this war;
+     Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
+     And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking that I
+would require many notes.
+
+"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October fifty-nine?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"What date?"
+
+"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's seizure of
+Harper's Ferry."
+
+"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown episode?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.
+
+In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic
+Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building of
+which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and interrupted him
+to tell him so."
+
+"Maybe your home is in Charleston."
+
+"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I don't
+remember my home."
+
+He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important actions
+and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought in them in
+'61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.
+
+"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you something
+about your own command."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in
+progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.
+
+"Well."
+
+"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded at the
+battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You were in
+that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson we call him,
+to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is president of the Tredegar
+Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you were facing McDowell. Now, look
+here at the map. McClellan stretched his right wing as far as
+Mechanicsville--here, almost north of Richmond; and you were between
+McClellan and McDowell. So Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember
+the hot march?"
+
+"Not at all; I don't think I was there."
+
+"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover your
+memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in an
+unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies itself
+against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of weakness that
+things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a dream proves to be
+the beginning. However, some men have such great strength of will that
+they can do almost anything. If ever you get the smallest clew, you
+ought then and there to determine that you will never let it go. Your
+friends may find you any day, but it is strange they have not yet done
+it They surely must be classing you among the killed."
+
+[Illustration: A Lesson In History] [Map of Chesapeake Bay and
+Environs]
+
+"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the past?
+Would my memory return if I should find them?"
+
+"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first find
+one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and then they
+can show you how everything else is to be associated with that. Without
+their help you would have a hard time in collecting things--putting them
+together; they would be separate and distinct in your mind; if you
+remember but one isolated circumstance, it would be next to impossible
+to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and finish; we are nearly at the end,
+or at the beginning, for you. Where was I?
+
+"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"
+
+"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the
+twenty-fourth."
+
+"Well, sir."
+
+"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's brigade. While
+you were retreating, and when you were very near Hanover, McClellan
+threw a column on Branch, and used him very severely. You were not in
+the fight exactly, but were in hearing of it, and saw some of Branch's
+men after the fight. That is how we know what brigade you belong to,
+although it will not claim you. You know that you are from South
+Carolina, and your buttons prove it; and your diary shows that you were
+near Branch's brigade while it was in the fight; and the only South
+Carolina brigade in the whole of Lee's army that had any connection with
+Branch, is Gregg's. Do you see?"
+
+"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"
+
+"May 27th; your diary tells you that."
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The division you
+are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light division. Branch's brigade
+is in it."
+
+"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the army
+down to the company."
+
+"Go ahead."
+
+"Lee's army--"
+
+"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."
+
+"What is General Lee's full name?"
+
+"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse Harry Lee
+of Revolution times."
+
+"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's brigade--what
+is General Gregg's name?"
+
+"Maxcy."
+
+"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"
+
+"How did you know that?"
+
+"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"
+
+"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."
+
+"Company H, Captain Haskell--"
+
+"William Thompson Haskell."
+
+"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"
+
+"No."
+
+"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."
+
+"Now read what you have written," he said.
+
+I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made. My
+interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily have
+called over in chronological order the principal events he had
+just narrated.
+
+"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the details
+from what you can remember of what I said?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."
+
+He asked some questions, and I replied to them.
+
+My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a
+phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he said.
+
+His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.
+
+"What has become of the _Merrimac?_" I asked him.
+
+"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had to
+follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some halfway down
+below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by Lincoln against all the
+ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak on the water."
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+
+     "And so your follies fight against yourself.
+      Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--
+      And fight and die, is death destroying death;
+      Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."
+                                          --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr. Frost had
+offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone, and, as my
+strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all my possessions
+in my pockets.
+
+The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll of
+Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in its
+alphabetical position.
+
+A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having been
+made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots. Besides the
+brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I formed gradually
+some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant Josey, Corporal
+Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box, in this alphabetical
+succession of names my own name being no real exception, although
+Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name written in the diary.
+
+And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's drill in the
+manual and in everything. The company drilled four hours a day, and the
+regiment had one hour's battalion drill, besides dress-parade; there was
+roll-call in the company morning and night.
+
+Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John Wilson, who
+put me singly through the exercises without arms for about four hours
+on my first day's duty, which was the third day of my enlistment, or
+perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant seemed greatly pleased
+with my progress, and told me that he should at once promote me to be
+the right guide of his awkward squad.
+
+On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three other
+recruits who had been members of the company for a week or more. That
+night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have received me into his
+good graces, told me that Wilson had said that that new man Jones beat
+everything that he had seen before; that learning to drill was to Jones
+"as easy as fallin' off a log." I remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.
+
+The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the
+afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour I was
+exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved very
+unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost swore at me.
+He placed my gun at the _carry_, and called repeated attention to the
+exact description of the position, contained in the language of Hardee:
+"The piece in the right hand, the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in
+the hollow of the shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging
+nearly at its full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger
+embracing the guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping
+the swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little
+finger." I simply could not execute the _shoulder_, or _carry_, with any
+precision, although the positions of _support, right-shoulder-shift,
+present,_ and all the rest, gave me no trouble after they were reached;
+reaching them, from the _shoulder_ was the great trouble.
+
+Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the Captain.
+
+Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant Wilson
+gives a bad report of you."
+
+"I do the best I can, Captain."
+
+"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some peculiar
+point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives you great
+praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says you will not
+learn the manual."
+
+"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something wrong
+about it."
+
+"You find the manual difficult?"
+
+"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me nervous."
+
+"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"
+
+"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."
+
+"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I have a
+clew to the situation."
+
+Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made me take
+position. He also took position, with a rifle at his side.
+
+"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be the
+_shoulder_ natural to you."
+
+His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm of his
+left hand under the butt.
+
+"Now," said he, "this is the _shoulder_ of the heavy infantry manual. I
+think you were drilled once in a company which had this _shoulder_. It
+may not have been in your recent regiment that you were so drilled, for
+this _shoulder_ obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before
+the war. Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions
+now--_Support_--ARMS!"
+
+The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the stock;
+his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting on the
+forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.
+
+I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.
+
+"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other
+positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the _shoulder_, or
+_carry_, as we sometimes call it, that has been changed. You will like
+the new drill."
+
+He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had difficulty,
+yet I had some success.
+
+"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.
+
+I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I had
+been confused by the light infantry _carry_, never having seen drill
+except from the heavy infantry _shoulder_. Wilson kept me at work for
+almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with my progress. Under his
+training I was soon able to drill with the company.
+
+Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see Richmond.
+He had got permission to go into town on the next day. The Captain
+readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four hours, and Bellot
+and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We saw the State House,
+and the Confederate Congress in session, and wandered down to the river
+and took a long look at the Libby Prison.
+
+The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's left, but
+now the regiment took position in the front, the lines having been
+extended still farther to the left. A battery at our right--some
+distance away--would throw a few shells over at the Yankees, and their
+guns would reply; beyond this almost daily artillery practice, nothing
+unusual occurred.
+
+One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to get my
+arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front, Corporal
+Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for his sword. He
+led us through our pickets and straight on toward the river. The slope
+of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were clumps of pine bushes
+which hid us from any casual view from either flank; and as for the
+river swamp in our front, unless a man had been on its hither edge, we
+were perfectly screened. I observed that, as we approached the swamp,
+the Captain advanced more stealthily, keeping in the thickest and
+tallest of the bushes. Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending
+over and slipping along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader.
+The river bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a
+dense forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into
+which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following
+Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the purpose
+of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it was not
+merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.
+
+We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the Captain
+signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and stood behind a
+tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body this way and that;
+then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth here was less thick, the
+trees larger. I could see nothing, in any direction, except trees and
+muddy water. The Captain went on again for a few paces, and stopped with
+a jerk. After a little he beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded
+slowly on. Before we reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get
+behind trees.
+
+From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in another.
+There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the Captain was
+still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see that his whole
+attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at my right, was silent
+and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather than saw, that there was
+something in front of us, and I kept my eyes intent upon a narrow aisle
+just beyond me. All at once a man in dark-blue dress passed across the
+opening; I knew instantly that he was a Yankee, although I had never
+seen one in my life, and instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but
+he was gone. Now, looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other
+blue men behind trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were
+about sixty yards from us; I supposed they were part of their
+picket-line. I had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and
+consulted the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.
+
+Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side of the
+Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool stretching in their
+front, and were not very watchful. We remained stiff in our places for
+four or five minutes; then the Captain moved slowly backward and gave us
+a sign to follow.
+
+This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it made me
+feel that the Captain was favourable to me.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three days'
+rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little. Everybody
+said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had occasion to use
+the word, had thought of it as rations. I think I called it rations once
+or twice before I got straight. I remembered Dr. Frost's advice to hold
+fast any slightest clew, and felt that possibly this word might, in the
+future, prove a beginning.
+
+The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle. For a
+day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the part of
+Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody seemed to know
+where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave occasion for the talk.
+From what I could hear, it seemed to be thought generally that Jackson
+was marching on Washington, but some of the most serious of the men
+believed exactly the contrary; they believed that Jackson was very near
+to Lee's army.
+
+The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready for the
+march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe Bellot was
+lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that he, too, was
+awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and sometimes confused,
+thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not that I should soon see
+actual war, and I was far from certain that I could stand it. I had
+never fired a shot at a man; no man had ever fired at me. I fully
+appreciated the fact of the difference between other men and me;
+perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I had heard and had read that most
+men in battle are able from motives of pride to do their duty; but I was
+certainly not like most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had
+homes to fight for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at
+all; but I was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction
+called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown
+somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as theirs; if
+I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight for the homes of
+my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home, vague, it is true, but as
+real as theirs, and Southern homes were in danger from the invaders. I
+_must_ fight for Southern homes--for _my_ home; but could I stand up
+with my comrades in the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I
+not one of a few? perhaps unique even?
+
+Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but retain my
+presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature by the
+resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what is courage
+if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If my mind fail, I
+shall have no courage: this is to think in a circle. I felt that I
+should prefer death to cowardice--the thought gave me momentary comfort.
+
+But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial comes? A
+coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an outcast from men.
+
+And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I doubted it
+and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt comforted me. To be
+killed was no worse than to kill.
+
+Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that sustained
+_him_ at this moment? If not now, at least shortly, he would give orders
+which must result in the death of thousands; it was enough to craze a
+general. How could he, reputed so good, give such orders? Could any
+success atone for so much disaster? What could be in the mind of General
+Lee to make him consent to such sacrifice? It must be that he feels
+forced; he cannot do it willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up
+the contest--to yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two
+nations into despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many
+stricken homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that
+sustains General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and
+simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then President
+Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the burden? No. What
+then? The country.
+
+And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People? What is
+land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know. But, supposing
+that I have people and land--what is the country for which we fight?
+Will the enemy take our people, and take our land, if we do not beat
+them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to subjection. I shall
+become a dependant upon them. I shall be constrained in my liberties;
+part of my labour will go to them against my will. My property, if I
+have any, will be taken from me in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not
+wholly, at least in a measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not
+be free.
+
+But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free? Yes, I
+shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to got aid
+from the country, I shall be part of the country and can enjoy my will,
+because I will to be part of my country and to help build up her
+greatness and sustain and improve her institutions.
+
+Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an
+institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is it,
+then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a growth,
+a development--a development of what? Is it material? No, it is moral;
+it is _soul_--then I thought I could see what is meant by the country
+and by her institutions. The country is the spirit of the nation--and it
+is deathless. It is not doomed to subjection; take the land--enslave the
+people--and yet will that spirit live and act and have a body. Let our
+enemies prevail over our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is
+good in our institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true
+idea is imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.
+
+Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the false. The
+false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in order to
+spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be better or
+stronger by that?
+
+Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by good that
+evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us, must we not
+fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war. Must we submit?
+We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is repugnant to the spirit of
+the nation; death is better than submission. But killing, is it not
+crime? Is crime better than submission? No; submission is better than
+crime But is not submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement
+of the law of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime?
+To avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing? It
+seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is because the
+spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the world. The
+world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and demands life and
+freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not so unselfish; the
+spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism; the world-spirit
+raises high the principle of philanthropy universal. The country has not
+developed the world-idea, and will not, except feebly; but she will at
+last, and will be loyal to the spirit of the world. Then, unless I am
+sustained by a greater power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the
+South. I must kill and must be killed.
+
+But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into a less
+readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to me I know
+not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance incomprehensible and
+unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will not my conscience force
+me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse than death.
+
+I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose, and
+walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the morrow might
+be still more soundly sleeping.
+
+Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet. I
+approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."
+
+"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but cannot."
+
+"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by ourselves."
+
+His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct toward the
+men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning duties, yet he was
+very sympathetic in personal matters, and in private talk was more
+courteous and kind toward a private than toward an equal. I understood
+well enough that it was through sympathy that he had invited me
+to unburden.
+
+"Captain," I said, "I fear."
+
+"May I ask what it is that you fear?"
+
+"I fear that I am a coward."
+
+"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"
+
+"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."
+
+"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close place when
+you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were, if the truth
+has been told."
+
+"That was not I; I am now another man."
+
+"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."
+
+"Proving a coward," I replied.
+
+"You fear that you will fear?" said he.
+
+"That is exactly it."
+
+"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."
+
+"I fear that danger will make me fear."
+
+"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least anybody who
+has something more than the mere fearlessness of the brute that cannot
+realize danger."
+
+"Do you fear, too, Captain?"
+
+The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew that his
+silence was rebuke.
+
+"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak of
+myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not to be
+thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I like the
+thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are very distasteful
+to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing itself to pain; I fear
+pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear. I do not think the fear of
+death is unmanly, for it is human. Those who do not fear death do not
+love life. Please tell me if you love life."
+
+"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."
+
+"Do you fear death?"
+
+"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were indifferent to
+death I should have no fear of being afraid."
+
+"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in the
+swamp," said he.
+
+"I don't think I had great fear."
+
+"Yet you were in danger there."
+
+"Very little, I think, Captain."
+
+"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have ended
+your life."
+
+"I did not realize the situation, then."
+
+"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then," said he.
+
+"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"
+
+"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."
+
+"But you did not fear."
+
+"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a
+knowledge of danger?"
+
+"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that a man
+may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I am afraid
+that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in duty."
+
+"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail in
+duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case. An army
+consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be broken. It is
+those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause disorganization. The
+touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I think, sir; but for the man
+who will do his duty such dependence should not be taught. Good men,
+instructed to depend on comrades will be demoralized when comrades
+forsake them. Our method of battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should
+be more open. Many reasons might be urged for that change, but the one
+we are now considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend
+on weak men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not
+really a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so.
+Every man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless
+of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to fight,
+sir; there are other duties more suited to them."
+
+"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.
+
+"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to test
+you now?"
+
+"To test me?"
+
+"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage." His
+voice had become stern.
+
+I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I felt
+that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position into
+which my fears were working to thrust me.
+
+"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of this
+suspense."
+
+"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense
+concerning danger?"
+
+I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and replied, "Yes,
+Captain, danger is better than fear."
+
+"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"
+
+"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I had the
+right to incur danger uselessly."
+
+"And how did you settle that?"
+
+"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."
+
+He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may depress
+you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a soldier as Company
+H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only yesterday, remarked that
+you were the best-drilled man in the company, and showed astonishment
+that a raw recruit, in less than two weeks, should gain such a standing.
+I thought it advisable to say to him that your education had included
+some military training, and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped
+his official manner. "It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly
+a veteran than any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have
+been wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed
+signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that you
+have already seen battle more than once."
+
+"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at all. I am a
+different man."
+
+"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I
+appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I think
+every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a friend, that you
+feel fear more sensitively because you live in the subjective; you feel
+thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are exclusive."
+
+"I am forced to be so, Captain."
+
+"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."
+
+"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on myself."
+
+"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it
+positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though peculiar; I
+fancy that you heighten them by your self-concentration. The world and
+objects in it divert other men, while your attention is upon your own
+feelings. Pardon me for saying that you think of little except yourself.
+This new old experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution
+to your soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men
+think of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be
+all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will be
+good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."
+
+"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other men and
+other things," I said.
+
+"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give you
+that test?"
+
+"Yes, sir; if you please."
+
+"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do not
+need it," said he.
+
+"How so, Captain?"
+
+"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed to test
+you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to it. Have you
+lost interest in it?"
+
+"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good time."
+
+"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from courage,
+but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at once reject my
+proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it; but, having begun,
+I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will assign you some special duty
+that will keep you out of battle--such as guarding the baggage, or other
+duty in the rear."
+
+I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.
+
+"Why do you hesitate?"
+
+"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.
+
+"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but did you
+not urge me on?"
+
+"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."
+
+"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept my
+offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not see that
+what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You are not
+intimidated at the prospect of battle."
+
+"I fear that I shall be," said I.
+
+"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your indignation
+seems no less natural to yourself than it does to me."
+
+"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my fears?"
+
+"Oblige me by explaining."
+
+"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the purpose
+of concealing my fear?"
+
+"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the possibility--the
+strong possibility--of death," said he, gravely.
+
+"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I shall do
+when it is near is not sure."
+
+"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice, assuming
+again the relation of an officer.
+
+"I do not mean it that way, Captain."
+
+"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least to
+cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch you."
+
+"I wish I could banish fear," said I.
+
+"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to make
+yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."
+
+"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will not weaken
+in the time of trial?"
+
+"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again will and
+will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you are ordered
+to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you not decided that
+you will march with us?"
+
+"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I expect
+to march."
+
+"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not know that
+you will march to the battlefield?"
+
+"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I should
+have no fear of myself."
+
+"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to run away
+when we get into battle?"
+
+"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be able to
+have any intention at all."
+
+"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"
+
+"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and fear
+the test."
+
+"You _can_ determine that you will act the man," said he. Then, kindly:
+"I have no fears that you will do otherwise, but"--and here his voice
+again became stern--"the determination will rid you of your present
+fears. Exert your will, and this nightmare will go."
+
+"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"
+
+"_You_ can. You can drive away your present fear of yourself, at the
+very least."
+
+"How can I do it, Captain?"
+
+"I shall give you one more test."
+
+"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that would
+confirm my fear."
+
+"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your present
+state of mind--"
+
+"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"
+
+"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But allow
+me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you are, or you
+will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect before I begin."
+
+There was a pause.
+
+"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say three,
+you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"
+
+If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all my fears
+were gone.
+
+"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even hesitatingly.
+
+"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my duty."
+
+"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse me for
+employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I may make a
+suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, that you will
+encourage henceforth, the companionship of the men."
+
+"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."
+
+"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I am
+sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented itself to
+your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."
+
+"Good night, Captain," said I.
+
+But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his character
+as my commander.
+
+"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for all your
+physical strength to-morrow--and after."
+
+I was almost happy.
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+IN THE GREAT BATTLE
+
+     "If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,
+     Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."
+                                         --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of itself;
+the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else we were
+creatures dominated by our surroundings.
+
+I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an unknown
+sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I touched a larger
+world, it was only through the medium of the company in its relations to
+that world. I had formed some attachments,--ties which have lasted
+through life thus far, and will always last,--but these attachments were
+immediate only, and, so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not
+directly could I see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside
+the narrow bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for
+that world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I
+called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to every
+other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal world
+rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although the ideal
+after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me must be lacking in
+the varying quality of light, and the delicate degrees of sweetness and
+truth which home and friends and all the material good of earth were
+said to assume for charming their possessors. The day brought me into
+contact with men; the night left me alone with myself. In my presence
+men spoke of homes far away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and
+children. I could see how deep was the interest which moved them to
+speak, and, in a measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was
+mystery rather than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could
+fill these pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps,
+for my memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should
+say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard with
+the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier. Absorbed in
+reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world of which I knew
+so little, it is not to be doubted that I constructed ideals far beyond
+the humdrum reality of home life, impracticable ideals that tended only
+to separate me more from other men. Their world was not my world; this I
+knew full well, and I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude
+treatment marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a
+friend. My weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left
+me more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have
+been hopeless.
+
+Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree,
+everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and although I
+was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my mind and
+hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over myself, and I hoped
+that I should always determine to live the life of a healthy human
+being, that I should be able to accept the relationships which, through
+Company H, bound me to all men and all things, and that my interest
+henceforth would be diversified--touching the world and what is in it
+rather than myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain
+change was in the banishment of my former indifference.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we yet held
+our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was heard in every
+regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored in Richmond.
+
+"_Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"_ shouted
+Orderly-sergeant Mackay.
+
+By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid stride.
+Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.
+
+At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see before us
+and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in motion.
+
+Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding back
+along the line of the Light Division.
+
+Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the roar of
+cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and meadows; the
+passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go through gaps in
+rail fences.
+
+And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising from our
+left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait. The noise of
+battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company on our right is
+passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes the topmost rail at
+the left and hurls it clear over their heads. Then I see men pale, and I
+know that my own face is white.
+
+Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which rises to
+our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No breaking of ranks
+for rest or for water; the long night through we lie on our arms.
+
+Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry. At
+sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and down
+country roads; we go southeast.
+
+The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company C, the
+right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.
+
+Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An orderly
+comes to Captain Haskell.
+
+"_Company H!_ ATTENTION!"
+
+Every man is in his place--alert.
+
+"_Forward_--MARCH!"
+
+"_By the right flank_--MARCH!"
+
+"HALT!--FRONT!"
+
+"_Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take
+intervals--double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the left of
+Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or more, through
+woods and fields, the brigade following in line of battle.
+
+About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open
+land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had
+halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From this
+position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a group of
+horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road, or line, that
+would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at once in place. The
+distance was too great to tell the uniforms of the party of horsemen;
+but, of course, they could be only Yankees.
+
+Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The
+horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen or
+twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the most
+eligible one of the group, and fire.
+
+Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his
+shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to
+fire; they may be our men."
+
+The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put his
+handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A horseman
+advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company H, and said,
+"They are General Jackson and his staff."
+
+Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see tents--a
+camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a few men
+running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been abandoned
+hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly; they were curious
+to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the cracking of rifles was heard,
+and the singing of bullets, and the voice of Captain Haskell commanding,
+"_Lie down!_"
+
+Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent. The Yankee
+skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind trees on the
+opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I could see them looking
+out from behind the trees and firing. I took good aim at one and pulled
+the trigger; his bullet came back at me; I loaded and fired; I saw him
+no more, but I could see the smoke shoot out from the side of the tree
+and hear his bullet sing. I thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw
+him again, and fired, and missed. Then I carefully considered the
+distance, and concluded that it was greater than I had first thought. I
+raised the sliding sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the
+man, whom I could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the
+tree, and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind
+the tree.
+
+We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally; other men
+slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade was behind us,
+waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly I heard Captain
+Haskell's voice ordering us forward at double-quick. We ran down the
+hill into the valley below; there we found a shallow creek with steep
+banks covered with briers. We beat down the briers with our guns, and
+scrambled through to the other side of the creek in time to see the
+Yankees run scattering through the woods and away. We reached their
+position and rested while the brigade found a crossing and formed again
+in our rear. I searched for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but
+found none; yet I felt sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked
+another out from the tree above him.
+
+We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more. At
+length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed the
+withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them again until
+we should strike their main lines.
+
+Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt Jackson's--could
+be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left, marching forward and
+yet at a distance from our own line. We reached an elevated clearing,
+and halted. The brigade came up, and we returned to our position in the
+line of battle--on the left of the First. It was about three o'clock; to
+the right, far away, we could hear the pounding of artillery, while to
+the southeast, somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other
+side of the Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell.
+Shells from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped
+headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began firing.
+The line of infantry hugged the ground.
+
+Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a hollow;
+the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was on the hill
+beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were there and at
+work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were coming into line far
+to our right.
+
+General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the wooded
+slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the wooded
+hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill, still in
+the woods.
+
+The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted and
+re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was distinct;
+shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the trunks of the
+trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick with men firing
+into us in the woods. Those in our front were Zouaves, with big, baggy,
+red breeches. We began to fire kneeling. Leaves fell from branches above
+us, and branches fell, cut down by artillery. Butler, of our company,
+lying at my right hand, gave a howl of pain; his head was bathed in
+blood. Lieutenant Rhett was dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in
+the Yankee camp. He had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long
+aim, and fired; lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the
+effect, and yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot.
+Lieutenant Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker.
+Our colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two
+colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of the
+Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.
+
+A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--
+
+"_Bri-ga-a-a-de_--ATTENTION!"
+
+"_Fi-i-i-x_--BAYONETS!"
+
+"_For-w-a-r-d_--" and the next I knew men were dropping down all around
+me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute did we go forward. From
+front and left came a tempest of lead; again the colours--both--fell,
+and all the colour-guard. The colonel raised the colours. We staggered
+and fell back; the retreat through the woods became disorder.
+
+On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only six, but
+one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced, but shell and
+shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again in full action. We
+hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some regiment--the Thirtieth
+North Carolina--was advancing on our right. Captain Haskell and his six
+men joined this regiment, placing themselves on its left. The Thirtieth
+went forward through the woods--reached the open--and charged.
+
+The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man seeing
+whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his voice at
+its worst.
+
+Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found a sunken
+road, and the temptation was too great--down into the friendly road we
+fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the dust.
+
+The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the men
+calmly looked at their officers.
+
+A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging, gesticulating.
+He got near to Haskell--
+
+"Who _are_ you?" shouted our Captain.
+
+"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."
+
+"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.
+
+Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the
+Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the battle-flag
+high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up the hill.
+
+Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet, and
+followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world hideous
+with yells.
+
+And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great horse was
+lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was gained.
+
+The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North Carolina
+regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six were yet
+unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on its left, and
+charged with it for another position. Believe it or not, the same thing
+recurred; the regiment charged well; from the smoke in front death came
+out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be crossed, and was not crossed;
+down the men all went to save their lives.
+
+And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the road.
+
+Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the regiment;
+he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he looked not
+back, but forward.
+
+The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one of the
+six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that the regiment
+was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his Captain and told him
+that the regiment did not follow.
+
+The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I tell
+you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."
+
+Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag would
+not be taken back to the regiment lying down.
+
+On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The bullets
+and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came on--and the
+others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and tried to load, but
+could not. I felt a great pain strike under my belt and was afraid to
+look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at length I exerted my will,
+and controlled my fear, and saw my trousers torn. My first wound had
+deadened my leg, but I felt no great pain--the leg was numb. The new
+blow was torture. I managed to take down my clothing, and saw a great
+blue-black spot on my groin. I was confused, and wondered where the
+bullet went, and perhaps became unconscious.
+
+Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet lay on
+the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me. Had a tide
+of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly called for help, and
+I crawled to the voice, but could give no help except to cut a shoe from
+a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles could be seen,--the enemy's
+rifles,--they came nearer and nearer, and I felt doomed to capture.
+
+Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom a host
+of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the last charge
+of Gaines's Mill.
+
+"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two replied:--
+
+"Hood's brigade."
+
+"The Hampton Legion."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and moved and
+disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men with torches
+and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into the darkness by
+the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and for others who could
+not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina! First South Carolina!" and
+I gathered up my strength and cried, "Here!" Louis Bellot and two others
+came to me. They carried me tenderly away, but not far; still in the
+field of blood they laid me down on the hillside--and a night of horror
+passed slowly away.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to the
+field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the battlefield. Our
+way was through scattered corpses. We passed by many Zouaves, lying
+stiff and stark; one I shall always call to mind: he was lying flat on
+his back, the soles of his feet firm on the ground, his knees drawn up
+to right angles above, and with his elbows planted on the grass, his
+fingers clinched the air. His open mouth grinned ghastly on us as
+we went by.
+
+At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous that I
+was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that was all. I
+had already found out that the bullet had passed entirely through the
+fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears; but the limb now gave me
+great pain, and I should have been glad to have it dressed. I was laid
+upon the ground under a tree and remained there until night, when I was
+put with others into an ambulance and taken to some station on some
+railroad--I have never known what station or what road. The journey was
+painful. I was in the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough
+roads, halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead.
+The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and begging for
+this or that. I did not know their voices; they were not of our company.
+But some time in the night I learned somehow--I suppose by his companion
+calling his name--that one of the men below me was named Virgil Harley.
+Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley? Why, I knew that name once! Surely I
+knew that name in South Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made
+aware that Virgil Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the
+railroad, I was taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil
+Harley. "He is dead," was the answer.
+
+Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest opportunity,
+now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able to tell me of
+myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had but heard his voice
+in groans that ended in the death-rattle.
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+A BROKEN MUSKET
+
+                                "What seest thou else
+     In the dark backward and abysm of time?
+     If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,
+     How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early morning.
+Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister unto the needs of
+the suffering; delicacies were served bountifully, and hearts as well as
+stomachs were cheered; there were evidences of sympathy and honour on
+every hand.
+
+Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old
+tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My clothing was
+cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of dirt and even
+worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the nurse brought me the
+contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the rest, a marble and a
+flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in the watch-pocket of my
+trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my "taw" in that pocket; the
+bullet had struck the marble, which had saved me from a serious if not
+fatal wound.
+
+The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred wounded
+men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few belonging to my
+regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance was quickly made,
+however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I think, was ever called
+by his name. He was Georgia, or Alabama,--his State, whatever that was.
+My neighbours called me, of course, South Carolina.
+
+Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot. I
+remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in ward
+vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I noticed that
+he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which were amazingly big
+blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why such buttons had been
+used. He replied that, a month before he had been on furlough at his
+home in Alabama, and that his mother had made him two new shirts, and
+had made use of the extraordinary objects which I now saw because they
+were all she had. He had told her jestingly that she was putting that
+big blue button on the middle of his breast to be a target for some
+Yankee; and, sure enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital
+was a rifle shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama
+laughed, too, but not long. He died.
+
+For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life there was
+totally void of incident. After the first week, in which we learned of
+the further successes of the Confederate arms and of our final check at
+Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt concerning Lee's army, now
+doing nothing more than watching McClellan, who had intrenched on the
+river below Richmond, under the protection of the Federal fleet. We
+learned with some degree of interest that another Federal army was
+organizing under General Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern
+hopes were so high in consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign,
+and the manifest safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no
+concern; of course I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I
+found myself.
+
+At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a little, and
+in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on crutches. On the
+first day of August I was surprised to see Joe Bellot enter the ward.
+The brigade had marched into Richmond, and was about to take the cars
+for Gordonsville in order to join Jackson, who was making head against
+Pope. It was only a few minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had
+to hurry back to the command.
+
+Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a
+furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home was
+Company H.
+
+I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong rapidly, when
+the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks at Cedar Run. Then
+my feverish anxiety to see the one or two persons in the world whom I
+loved became intense. I walked into the surgeon's office, keeping myself
+straight, and asked an order remanding me to my company. He flatly
+refused to give it. Said he, "You would never reach your company; where
+is it, by the way?"
+
+"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.
+
+"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."
+
+On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You would
+have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it would
+be insane."
+
+"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."
+
+"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a half by
+getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me again in
+about a week."
+
+I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving me my
+papers, by means of which I got transportation to Gordonsville, where I
+arrived, in company with many soldiers returning to their commands, on
+August 22d. From Gordonsville I took the road north afoot. There was no
+difficulty in knowing the way, for there was no lack of men and wagons
+going and returning. I had filled a haversack with food before I left
+Richmond--enough for two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were
+all my possessions.
+
+At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot dusty
+road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which stopped as I
+approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to him. He said: "Don't
+go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man in the road and he's
+a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go round him." I thanked the
+teamster, who drove on. At the foot of the ascending hill I looked ahead
+to see whether there was a way to get round it, but the road seemed
+better than any other way. Heavy clouds were rolling up from the south,
+with wind and thunder. A farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the
+road; I wanted to get there if possible before the rain. In the road I
+saw nobody. I walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend
+the wagoner was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the
+side of the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into
+the middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun
+at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a word.
+Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an unpleasant
+experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he changed his attitude
+at once, and began the second part of his programme. He dropped his
+piece to the position of ordered arms, kept himself erect as on
+dress-parade, raised his right hand high, and shouted, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip round him,
+keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun might, after all,
+be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his cry, "The cannons!
+the cannons!"
+
+The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him, and
+seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks with
+overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by cattle, I
+was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could hear behind me
+the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had lost his reason
+in battle.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting to
+surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were moving;
+Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General Gregg, riding at
+the head of his brigade; then one regiment after another till the
+last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C leading. I remained
+behind the tree; at last I could see Captain Haskell marching by the
+side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I stepped out and marched by the
+side of the Captain. At first, in the twilight, he did not know me;
+then, with a touch of gladness in his voice, he said: "I did not expect
+you back so soon. Are you fully recovered?"
+
+"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.
+
+He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and had me
+tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He informed me
+briefly of the movements which had taken place recently. The regiment
+had been under fire in the battle with Banks, but had not suffered any
+loss. On this day--the 24th--the regiment had been under fire of the
+Federal artillery on the Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a
+place called Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first
+movements of an active campaign.
+
+The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in the
+battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and hardship
+had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was almost the only
+officer in the company. My mess had broken up. There were but four
+remaining of the original nine, and these four had found it more
+convenient for two men, or even one, to form a mess. I found a companion
+in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been wounded severely at Gaines's Mill.
+Bellot had a big quart cup in which we boiled soup, and coffee when we
+had any, or burnt-bread for coffee when the real stuff was lacking.
+Flour and bacon were issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth,
+or gum-blanket as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by
+spreading it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When
+these boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender
+rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the fire on
+wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food brought from
+Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's ration was issued.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's right. I
+had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed so as to keep
+up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in the ranks or not,
+as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men. The day's march was
+something terrible. We went west, and northwest, and north, fording
+streams, taking short cuts across fields, hurrying on and on. No train
+of wagons delayed our march; our next rations must be won from the
+enemy. Jackson's rule in marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then
+ten minutes rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched,
+and rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at
+once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac near a
+village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles to the west
+of Pope's right flank.
+
+There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A detail from
+each company was ordered to gather the green ears from some fields of
+corn purchased for the use of the government. That night I committed the
+crime of eating eighteen of the ears half roasted.
+
+At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon straggled. I
+was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a place for me in some
+ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick woods and lay down; I
+slept, and when I awoke the sun was in mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps
+was ten miles ahead, but I was no longer ill. The troops had all passed
+me; there were no men on the road except a few stragglers like myself. I
+hurried forward through White Plains--then along a railroad through a
+gap in some mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last,
+about ten o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in
+despair, I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.
+
+Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry toward
+the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at sunrise, and
+soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our troops. Up to this
+time I had been unarmed, and all the men destitute of food; here now was
+an embarrassment of riches. I got a short Enfield rifle, marked for
+eleven hundred yards. Everything was in abundance except good water. The
+troops of Jackson and Ewell and Hill crammed their haversacks, and
+loaded themselves with whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies
+in too many cases. Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of
+smoking tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of
+vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea,
+medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken or
+burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were forced to
+drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its margin, and I know
+not what horrors beneath its green, slimy surface. Before daylight of
+the 28th we marched northward in the glare of the burning cars and
+camps. We crossed Bull Run on a bridge, some of the men fording; here we
+got better water, but not good water.
+
+In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed to know
+the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we making for
+Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain. He told me that
+he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place, but that he had no
+doubt we should be able to hold our own until Longstreet could force his
+way to our help. We were between Pope's army and Washington, and it was
+certain that Pope would make every effort to crush Jackson.
+
+About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west, down the
+Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's division had
+marched to Centreville; the other divisions of Jackson's corps were at
+the west, and beyond Bull Run. After matching a mile or two we could
+see to the eastward and south, great clouds of dust rolling up above the
+woods, evidently made by a column in march upon the road by which, we
+had that morning advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that
+Pope's army--or a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope
+was hot after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and
+halted in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most
+of us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and
+were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty. My
+increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in fact, the
+greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and accoutrements--consisted in
+food which diminished at short intervals. We could not yet
+expect rations.
+
+We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to march, and
+moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed line facing
+south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed the whole of
+Hill's division was there, though I could see only our regiment. Soon
+firing began at our right and right front; it increased in volume, and
+artillery and musketry roared and subsided until dark and after. At
+dark, the brigade again moved to the right, seemingly to support the
+troops that had been engaged, and which we found to be Ewell's division.
+
+We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to preserve
+the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of the enemy was
+passing just beyond the hills in front of us. Suddenly the sound of many
+voices broke out beyond the hills. The Federal column was cheering. Near
+and far the cry rose and fell as one command after another took it from
+the next. What the noise was made for I never knew; probably Pope's
+sanguine order, in which he expressed the certainty of having "the whole
+crowd bagged," had been made known to his troops for the purpose of
+encouraging them. Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what
+good fortune had made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet
+I believe that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night,
+had confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a
+certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one
+more victory.
+
+Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I do not
+know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very far, and that
+when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing northeast. Already the
+sound of musketry and cannon had been heard close in our front. Our
+regiment, left in front, was in the woods. We brought our right in
+front, and then the brigade moved forward down a slope to an
+unfinished railroad.
+
+Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that he would
+not need it.
+
+Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers. The
+regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into the fields
+beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company H. The regiment
+met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments from the brigade were
+hurried to the support of the First, which, by this time, was falling
+back before a full division of the enemy. The brigade retired in good
+order to the railroad, and Company H was ordered back into the battle
+line on the left of the First.
+
+[Illustration: Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"]
+
+It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment, under
+Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods as
+skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We came up
+with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began firing. We
+advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly through the woods.
+After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing that our small force was
+much too far from support, order was given to the skirmishers to retire;
+a heavy line of the enemy had been developed. This order did not reach
+my ears. I suppose that I was in the very act of firing when the order
+was given. While reloading, I became aware that the company had retired,
+as I could see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line
+some thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I
+feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many rifles.
+The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from my tree to
+another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar movement--and again--at
+each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and considering in front. At last
+I was out of sight of the enemy, and also out of sight of Company H.
+
+The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg had not
+regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well as weak. I
+crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for water. Still no
+enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or pool, following the wet
+place down a gentle slope, which inclined to my right oblique as I
+retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank my fill; then I filled my
+canteen and rose to my feet refreshed.
+
+Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar spanning the
+little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there for a second. Here
+was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide, this spot was what I
+should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen tree, mingling with the
+copse, made a complete hiding-place.
+
+The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began to
+wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I crossed
+here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the right. What
+was the secret of the influence which the spot held over me? I had seen
+it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly puzzled.
+
+On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I picked up
+the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up the stock. Why
+should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew not, but I knew that I
+was drawn in some way by it. On the stock were carved the letters J.B.
+Who had owned this gun? John Brown? James Butler? Then the thought came
+suddenly--why not Jones Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd?
+Did I know who I was, or where I had been, or where I had not been?
+
+A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I dropped the
+gun and ran.
+
+I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And now we
+made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our position
+was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade, which was
+posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all around us. Soon the
+blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began firing. The Federals sprang
+at once to trees and began popping away at us. The range was close.
+Grant was mortally hit. My group of four on that day was reduced to one
+man. Goettee fell, and Godley. We kept up the fight. But now a blue line
+of battle could be seen advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept
+coming, reserving their fire until they should pass beyond their
+skirmish-line. We should have withdrawn at once, but waited until the
+line of battle had reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to
+fall back. When we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us,
+and we lost some men.
+
+Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which was now
+the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of the corps.
+Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's line.
+
+General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of Pope's army,
+without severing communication with Longstreet; but the developments of
+the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope and Washington while yet
+the corps of Longstreet was two days' march behind, and beyond the Bull
+Run mountains. Pope had made dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay
+Longstreet he occupied with a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which
+Jackson had marched and I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his
+other divisions had marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to
+retreat toward the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division
+reached Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope
+was marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer
+Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which had
+occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the passage of
+Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was thus forced to
+yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during the night of the
+28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington without a battle, but he
+decided to overwhelm Jackson before Longstreet could reach the field,
+and attacked hotly on the Confederate left.
+
+The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in consequence
+of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of Pope to
+overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope until
+Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within six hours'
+march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying in the woods,
+Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat, were marching with
+rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in their front, where,
+upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing division after division
+into the fight.
+
+Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a rail
+fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far side of
+the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of our line did
+not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in the battle we were
+forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the Federals advancing
+through the field to turn our left.
+
+Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme left before
+the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their coming straight
+through the woods upon us. They reached the undergrowth which bordered
+the farther side of the railroad way. The orders of their officers
+could be heard. We lay in the open woods, each man behind a tree as far
+as was possible; but the trees were too few. The dense bushes, which had
+grown up in the edge of the railroad way, effectually concealed the
+enemy. We were hoping for them to come on and get into view, but they
+remained in the bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We
+returned their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots
+would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at the
+line of smoke in the thick bushes.
+
+Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had retired; but if
+they had done so, it was only to give place to a fresh body of troops,
+which opened upon us a new and terrific fire. We had nothing to do but
+to endure and fire into the bushes. If our line had attempted to cross
+the railroad, not one of us would have reached it; the Federals also
+were afraid to advance.
+
+Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was only
+premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we stood that
+day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal lines gave way,
+or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods were thick with dead.
+Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box were dead. Joe Bellot was
+fearfully wounded. Many had been carried to the rear, and many yet lay
+bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be taken out when the fight ceased.
+Each man lay behind the best tree he could get; the trees had become
+more plentiful. We fired lying, kneeling, standing, sometimes running;
+but the line held. If we had had but the smallest breastwork!--but
+we had none.
+
+In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a force
+around our left--through the open field; but each time they were driven
+back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we could not see,
+somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before this time Longstreet
+had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of great fighting came from
+the east and southeast.
+
+We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although our
+boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up the
+cartridges of our wounded and dead.
+
+Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive with
+Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened ranks,--no
+longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots went high; before
+the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they had not waited
+to reload.
+
+Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near that
+every shot told.
+
+Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected groups; they
+are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a towering man--his
+sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great form and his long red
+hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour of his bearing. He makes
+no pause. He strikes right and left. Men fall away from him. Our group
+is scattering, some to gain time to load, others in flight. The great
+sergeant rushes toward me; his gun rises again in his mighty hands, and
+the blow descends. I slip aside; the force of the blow almost carries
+him to the ground, but he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his
+gun back over his shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will
+strike. I raise my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his
+expression yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed
+determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes through an
+indescribable change as the blood spouts from his forehead and he falls
+lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my rear[7].
+
+[7] The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's
+brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back Gregg's
+worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade of Ewell's
+division. [ED.]
+
+Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to flee from
+either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold fast and
+fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I see our flag,
+and near it a flag of the Federals.
+
+In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is left of
+them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic
+Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's sake,
+stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the flag. Our
+line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling away. Defeat is
+here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will shine the brightest
+over America; but now from our rear a Confederate yell rises high and
+shrill through the bullet-scarred forest, and a fresh brigade advances
+at the charge, relieves the vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far
+back the Federal tide of war. It was none too soon.
+
+On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered
+roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen
+responded; we had lost none as prisoners.
+
+The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in reserve. We
+were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in the rear of our
+position of the 29th, and details were burying our dead, when we were
+ordered to form. We marched some distance to the left. A low
+grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail fence at the woods
+about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came amongst us from the
+fence at the woods, toward which we were marching in column of fours,
+right in front. I heard the order from Major McCrady--"_Battalion--by
+companies_!" and Haskell repeated--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_On
+the right--by file--into line--MARCH_!" This manoeuvre brought the
+regiment into column of companies still marching in its former
+direction, Company H being the rear of all.
+
+Again I heard McCrady--"_Battalion--by companies_!" and Haskell
+again--"_Company H_!"--then McCrady--"_Left--half wheel_!" and
+Haskell--"_Left wheel_!"--then McCrady--"_Forward into line_," and both
+voices--"_Double-quick_--MARCH!"
+
+It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close fire and
+by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective companies executed
+simultaneously their work, and as their graduated distances demanded,
+rushed forward, with a speed constantly increasing toward the left
+company, Company H, which wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence
+from which the enemy fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell
+severely wounded.
+
+For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged. We heard
+the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further part.
+
+On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying under
+fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or Chantilly as the
+Yankees call it. The regiment did not become engaged.
+
+The campaign of eight days was over.
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+CAPTAIN HASKELL
+
+     "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.
+       The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,
+     Hath had elsewhere its setting,
+       And cometh from afar;
+         Not in entire forgetfulness,
+         And not in utter nakedness,
+     But trailing clouds of glory do we come
+     From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.
+
+I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe Bellot
+was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept alone.
+
+For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one of
+these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me to
+accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was being
+done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he ordered in
+clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the duty had ended,
+he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree yonder."
+
+The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left--- that is,
+the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both vedettes and
+pickets, so far as they could be seen for the irregularities of ground.
+Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw off all official reserve.
+
+"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company did its
+full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."
+
+"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when the
+Yankees made that last charge."
+
+"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved earlier,"
+said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a little to the right
+of our position, the men fought the enemy with stones for lack of
+cartridges."
+
+"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next movement?"
+
+"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am convinced
+that we cannot remain where we are."
+
+"Why?" I asked.
+
+"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I am told
+that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville. The bridges
+are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to rebuild them, as they
+would be constantly in danger from the enemy's cavalry. I am informed
+that McClellan's whole army, as well as Burnside's corps from North
+Carolina, has joined Pope; General McClellan is said to be in command.
+If Pope's army, which we have just fought, was larger than ours, then
+McClellan's combined forces must be more than twice as great as
+General Lee's."
+
+"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said I.
+
+"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I speculate also.
+It seems to me that every mile of a further advance would but take from
+our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If we could seize
+Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do that, I think, and as
+for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it. Even to sit down here could
+do us no good, I imagine; our communications would be always
+interrupted."
+
+"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I asked.
+
+"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am puzzled,"
+he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an opportunity to gain time
+for the South to recuperate, if we make prudent demonstrations; but an
+actual advance does not appear possible. General Lee may make a show of
+advancing; I dare say we could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does
+not such manoeuvre meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our
+enemies know it or should know it."
+
+I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an instance
+of his unfailing habit of courtesy.
+
+"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here, and
+ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat, what other
+course is possible?"
+
+"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to the
+belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take Harper's
+Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland people."
+
+"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"
+
+"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a
+considerable garrison."
+
+"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like
+McClellan's?"
+
+"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once, I
+should think that there would then be no good reason for this army's
+crossing the river. But military success is said to be obtained, in the
+majority of cases, from the mistakes of the losers. It might be that we
+could take Harper's Ferry at very little cost; and even if we should
+fail, we should be prolonging the campaign upon ground that we cannot
+hope to occupy permanently, and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What
+I fear, however, is that the movement would bring on another general
+engagement; and I think you will agree with me in believing that we are
+not prepared for that."
+
+"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.
+
+"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"
+
+"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last
+experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday there
+happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of it."
+
+"May I ask what it was?"
+
+"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen before."
+
+"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are typical.
+Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in twenty
+other places."
+
+"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical features
+of the place that awoke recognition."
+
+"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.
+
+"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced as
+skirmishers?"
+
+"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the Captain.
+
+"And you remember the order to fall back?"
+
+"Certainly, since I took the initiative."
+
+"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the very
+moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it. At any
+rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and retreated as
+skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight. I saw some signs
+of water, and soon found a branch, at a place which impressed me so
+strongly that for a moment I forgot even that the battle was going on. I
+am almost certain that I had quenched my thirst at that spot once
+before. Besides, there was an extraordinary--"
+
+"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the first battle
+of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last year's battle,
+you came upon it from the east or the south. The positions of the armies
+the other day were almost opposite their positions last year. In
+sixty-one the Federals had almost our position of last Friday. It will
+be well to find out what South Carolina troops were in the first battle.
+By the way, General Bee, who was killed there, was from South Carolina;
+I will ask Aleck to tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."
+
+"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had been
+there in some former life."
+
+"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a thought or
+have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with such an idea."
+
+"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"
+
+"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question surprises me,
+sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such subjects?"
+
+"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have once been
+familiar to me."
+
+"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is no
+telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine; you may
+have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading would have
+influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to thoughtful
+subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I think it quite
+probable, sir, without flattery, that at college your professor had an
+apt student."
+
+"But you do not believe the doctrine?"
+
+"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that we live
+after death."
+
+"And that I shall be I again and again?"
+
+"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you will be
+you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one death."
+
+"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your former
+experiences?"
+
+"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I might go
+so far as to say that it makes no difference."
+
+"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the past me
+with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought there, Captain.
+It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one before, and another
+now,--and that really I have lived this present time, or these present
+times, in two bodies and with two minds."
+
+"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought as to
+your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that memory is
+necessary to identity?"
+
+"And that is error?" I asked.
+
+"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves it. If
+memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you have a
+personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have you taken?"
+
+"I do remember some things," said I.
+
+"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof that you
+are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any one. Every one
+has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what happened when he was in
+swaddling clothes, though he is the same person now that he was then,
+which proves that although a person loses his memory, he does not on
+that account, sir, lose his identity."
+
+"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"
+
+"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."
+
+"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am, except that I
+am I."
+
+"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.
+
+"And I am distinct? independent?"
+
+"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the world
+who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know that we are
+seriously considering such a question."
+
+This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in some
+inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among fragments of
+thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten past. I felt helpless
+in the presence of the Captain; I could not presume to press his
+good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he added: "A man is
+distinct from other men, but not from himself. He constantly changes,
+and constantly remains the same."
+
+"That is hard to understand, Captain."
+
+"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything means every
+other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing, even the least,--if
+there be a least,--we should necessarily comprehend all things," said
+the Captain.
+
+Then he talked at large of the relations that bind everything--and of
+matter, force, spirit, which he called a trinity.
+
+"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God has the
+properties of matter?"
+
+"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter. Even our
+minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is anything else we
+conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are we bound to matter,
+and our thoughts are limited."
+
+"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"
+
+"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to image
+force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We try to
+image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to how God
+looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our imagination.
+Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot attribute
+extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the infinite mind has
+parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a contradiction."
+
+"Then God has no properties?"
+
+"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them, He has
+all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must attribute
+elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an elastic
+universal."
+
+"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force, and
+spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between God
+and matter?"
+
+"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above force."
+
+"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of it can
+be lost," said I.
+
+"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking at me
+fixedly, almost sternly.
+
+The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where _had_ I heard
+it? My attention had been so fastened on the Captain's philosophy that
+it now seemed to me that I had become unguarded, and that from outside
+of me a thought had been sent into my mind by some unknown power; I
+could not know whence the thought had come. I had suddenly felt that I
+had heard the theory in question. I knew that, the moment before, I
+could not have said what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without
+feeling that I was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain
+Haskell. Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had
+spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I had
+heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken
+differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a
+place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to
+something. But the flash had vanished.
+
+"It is lost," I said.
+
+"I am sorry," said he.
+
+"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.
+
+"I beg your pardon?"
+
+"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot where I got
+water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun with J.B. on
+the stock."
+
+"Are you sure, Jones?"
+
+"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them closely."
+
+"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other
+reflections."
+
+"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."
+
+"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain; "you
+almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your name is
+Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of initials.
+Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."
+
+"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said I.
+
+"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult than
+J.B.?"
+
+"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three initials."
+
+"Yes, you are right in that," he said.
+
+"And I know I am right about my name." said I.
+
+"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We have
+three--or did have three--other men in the company whose initials are
+J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not recognize your own
+work in the lettering?"
+
+"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody might
+imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not another J.B. in
+Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant that he had any
+connection with that gun."
+
+"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"
+
+"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than Berwick.
+Beside, if you should change now, it would cause remark."
+
+"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South Carolina
+regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he. "You may go
+with me to see him to-night if you will."
+
+That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general, was
+able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of troops
+from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from that state.
+After hearing my description of the place which I thought I had
+revisited, he expressed the opinion that no Confederate troops at all
+had reached the spot in the battle of sixty-one. The place, he said,
+was more than a mile from the position of the Confederate army in the
+battle; still, he admitted, many scattered Federals retreated over the
+ground which interested me so greatly, and it was possible that some
+Confederates had been over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but
+as for pursuit, there had been none. I asked if it could have been
+possible for me to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the
+rear of the Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been
+allowed to keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in
+missing too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a
+baker's dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I
+think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there as a
+scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys call
+him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was at Stone
+Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell had turned our
+left and was marching down from Sudley. You might have been sent out to
+watch the enemy; yet I am confident that Evans would have used his
+cavalry for that purpose, for he had a company of cavalry in his
+command. A more plausible guess might be that you were out foraging that
+morning and got cut off. I will look up the Fourth South Carolina for
+you, and try to learn something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and
+I should not advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced
+that you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been
+recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection with
+your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find out who
+you are."
+
+"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose that a
+letter addressed to the manager would answer."
+
+"Certainly."
+
+"But--" I began.
+
+"But what?"
+
+"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an unknown man
+to tell me who I am?"
+
+"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who by this
+speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed on the roll
+of his company.
+
+As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain whether,
+in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged to the
+Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was pleased,
+evidently, by this question, and said that he should certainly try to
+hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should hope to be able to do
+so, as transfers were frequently granted, and as an application from me
+would come with peculiar force when the circumstances should be made
+known at headquarters. Of course, there would be no difficulty unless
+the application should be disapproved by my company commander, that is,
+the commander of my original company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C." inquiring if
+a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his house about October
+17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to learn from the hotel
+register, or from any other known source, the home of said Berwick.
+
+To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+BEYOND THE POTOMAC
+
+     "Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,
+     And we are graced with wreaths of victory;
+     But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,
+     I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,
+     That will encounter with our glorious sun."
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in September, and
+marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th at White's Ford near
+Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in Maryland about midday of
+the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which, for the time, was too hard for
+me. My wound had again given me trouble; while wading the Potomac I
+noticed fresh blood on the scar.
+
+We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning Owens of
+Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly fell back and
+began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to him, but could do
+nothing to help him. He struggled for a few moments and became rigid.
+Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought there was no sense in going for
+help when all was over. The surgeon came and soon got Owens upon his
+feet. This incident made a deep impression on me. It seemed a forcible
+illustration of the trite sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life
+there's hope," and it became to me a source of frequent encouragement.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap of the
+Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful valley,
+dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody seamed
+to know.
+
+We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the Potomac at
+Williamsport, where we learned definitely that Longstreet's wing of the
+army had been held in Maryland. We marched southward to Martinsburg. The
+inhabitants were greatly rejoiced, and were surprised to find
+Confederate troops coming amongst them from the north. At Martinsburg
+were many evidences that we were near the enemy. Captain Haskell said
+that it was now clear that Lee intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that
+Longstreet's retention on the north side of the Potomac was part of the
+plan. We destroyed the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward
+the east. Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's
+Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon from
+our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing shells
+into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were replying.
+
+On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right. We found
+a narrow road running down the river,--the Shenandoah,--and moved on
+cautiously. There were strict orders to preserve silence. The guns were
+uncapped, to prevent an accidental discharge. In the middle of the night
+we moved out of the road and began to climb the hill on our left; it was
+very steep and rough; we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut
+a way for the artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.
+
+When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the enemy. Our
+batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of battle. The enemy
+replies with all his guns, but they were soon silenced. A brigade at our
+left seemed ready to advance; the enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then
+from our left a battery stormed forward to a new position much nearer to
+the enemy. We were ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to
+advance, but was at once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered,
+with eleven thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and
+munitions in great quantity.
+
+We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two, far-off
+sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after the surrender,
+A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only division at Harper's
+Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's corps having marched away,
+some said to the help of Longstreet on the north side of the Potomac;
+then we felt that some great event was near, and we wondered whether it
+should befall us to remain distant from the army during a great
+engagement.
+
+The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard in the
+north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in position
+while our details worked in organizing the captured property. The
+prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that they were to be
+released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered along the roads on the
+15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he rode by, and they seemed to
+admire him no less than his own men did. Late in the afternoon the
+regiment marched out of the lines of Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for
+the night some two miles to the west of the town.
+
+On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up the
+Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle were
+heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was hot, and
+the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick. About one
+o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond the river the
+march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had fallen out before we
+reached the river; now many more began to straggle. All the while the
+roar of a great battle extended across our front, mostly in our left
+front. We passed through a village called Sharpsburg. Its streets were
+encumbered with wagons, ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all
+the horrid results of war that choke the roads in rear of an army
+engaged in a great battle.
+
+Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one side of a
+hill and down the other side. On the slope of the opposite hill we
+halted, some of the troops being protected by a stone fence. The noise
+of battle was everywhere, and increasing at our right, almost on our
+right flank. Wounded men were streaming by; the litter-bearers were
+busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as waiting while in expectation of
+being called on to restore a lost battle from which the wounded and dead
+are being carried. Our time was near.
+
+Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg
+dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the
+colonels and the captains. We were to advance.
+
+While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect the
+capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before McClellan, who
+had collected an immense army and had advanced. The North had risen at
+the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac and McClellan's army,
+vast as it was, yet continued to receive reinforcements almost daily;
+his army was perhaps stronger than it had been before his disastrous
+campaign of the Chickahominy, his troops on James River had marched down
+the Peninsula and had been taken in transports to Fredericksburg and
+Alexandria. Porter's and Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had
+fought under Pope in the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had
+his own army, Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that
+could be got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize
+Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his
+lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in danger
+of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the surrender at
+Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched to reenforce
+Longstreet. Had not time been so pressing, Hill's division would not
+have been ordered to assault the works at Harper's Ferry--an assault
+which was begun and which was made unnecessary by the surrender.
+
+McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the separation
+of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's special order
+outlining his movements had fallen into General McClellan's hands. This
+order was dated September 9th; it gave instructions to Jackson to seize
+Harper's Ferry, and it directed the movements of Longstreet. With this
+information, General McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered
+General Franklin to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of
+Harper's Perry.
+
+On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked D.H. Hill's
+division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro, and Franklin
+carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though both of these
+attacks were successful, the resistance of the Confederates had in each
+case been sufficient to gain time for Jackson. On the 15th Harper's
+Ferry surrendered, and McClellan continued to advance; Longstreet
+prepared for battle.
+
+The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army, the
+Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.
+
+At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced march of
+seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found itself in front of
+the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting of Burnside's
+corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition in its front, and
+was now advancing to seize the ford at Shepherdstown and cut off Lee
+from the Potomac.
+
+A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few brigades
+which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout resistance, but,
+too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our right. Into the gap we
+were ordered. In the edge of the corn a rabbit jumped up and ran along
+in front of the line; a few shots were fired at it by some excited men
+on our left. These shots seemed the signal for the Federals to show
+themselves; they were in the corn, advancing upon us while we were
+moving upon them. There were three lines of them. Our charge broke their
+first line; it fell back on the second and both ran; the third line
+stood. We advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line
+fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of the
+hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also in thick
+corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this next hill a
+Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire only, as the guns and
+men were almost entirely covered. This battery was perhaps four hundred
+yards from us, and almost directly in front of the left wing of the
+First. The corn on our slope and in the hollow was full of Federals
+running in disorder. We loaded and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the
+naked slope opposite was dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired,
+and loaded and fired.
+
+In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet
+glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades of
+corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was afraid
+to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had not thought
+too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the butt on the ground,
+and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could be seen but the bayonet.
+I fired at the ground below the bayonet. The bayonet fell.
+
+An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a gallant
+officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to stop. He
+threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run on as soon as
+his back was turned. They were right to run at this moment, and he was
+wrong in trying to form on the naked slope. Beyond the hilltop was the
+place to rally, and the men knew it, and the gallant officer did not. He
+rode from group to group of fleeing men as they streamed up the hill. He
+was a most conspicuous target. Many shots were fired at him, but he
+continued to ride and to storm at the men and to wave his sword.
+Suddenly his head went down, his body doubled up, and he lay stretched
+on the ground. The riderless horse galloped off a few yards, then
+returned to his master, bent his head to the prostrate man, and fell
+almost upon him.
+
+The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On our left
+they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the sound of
+heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to develop from our
+left until they were uncovered in our front. They advanced, right and
+left; just upon our own position the pressure was not yet great, but we
+felt that the Twelfth regiment, which joined us on our left, must soon
+yield to greatly superior numbers, and would carry our flank with it
+when it went. The fight now raged hotter than before. I saw Captain
+Parker, of Company K, near to us. His face was a mass of blood--his jaw
+broken. The regiment was so small that, although Company H was on its
+left, I saw Sam Wigg, a corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his
+face. Then the Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the
+pressure upon us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and,
+while driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked.
+Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in retiring, it
+caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back. Now the enemy
+moved on the First from the front and the regiment retired hastily
+through the corn, and formed easily again at the stone fence from which
+it had advanced at the beginning of the contest. The battle was over.
+The enemy came no farther, and the fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.
+
+All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in position. A
+few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we were in hourly
+expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the Federals did not
+advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we were once more
+in Virginia.
+
+While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the battle of
+Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been fortunate, it was
+clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely escaped a great disaster. I
+have always thought that McClellan had it in his power on the 18th of
+September to bring the war to an end. Lee had fought the battle with a
+force not exceeding forty thousand men, and had lost nearly a third.
+McClellan, on the 18th, was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he
+waited a full day, and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross,
+almost leisurely, the difficult river in their rear.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of
+Shepherdstown.
+
+On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll called us
+once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the Potomac.
+Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be seen here and
+there. Men said that in the night McClellan had thrown a force to the
+south side of the river, and had surprised and taken some of our
+artillery. As we drew near the river, we could see the smoke of cannon
+in action spouting from the farther side, and from our side came the
+crackling of musketry fire.
+
+The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two lines of
+three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first line. Orr's
+Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and advanced to the
+river bank. The division moved behind the skirmishers. The ground was
+open. We marched down a slope covered with corn in part, and reached a
+bare and undulating field that stretched to the trees bordering the
+river. As soon as the division had passed the corn, the Federal
+batteries north of the Potomac began to work upon our ranks. The first
+shots flew a little above us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping
+well the alignment. The next shots struck the ground in front of us and
+exploded--with what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our
+range and made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards,
+was a depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells
+burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched on
+at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie down. The
+sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the hollow; they hugged
+the earth thick. Shells would burst at the crown of the low hill ten
+steps in front and throw iron everywhere. The aim of the Federal gunners
+was horribly true.
+
+We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water. Behind us
+came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells bursting in the
+ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were coming in their
+turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far above us to strike
+this new and exposed line. Behind us came the brigade; right against
+Company H came the centre of a regiment. The red flag was marching
+straight. The regiment reached our hollow; there was no room; it flanked
+to the left by fours; a shell struck the colour-group; the flag leaped
+in the air and fell amongst four dead men. A little pause, and the flag
+was again alive, and the regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.
+
+For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The fight had
+long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal batteries. To
+rise and march out would be to lose many men uselessly.
+
+A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt my hat
+fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a great pain
+seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was hit, but how
+badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such agony that I feared to
+look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I was the tallest man in Company
+H, and the Captain was lying very near to me. I said to him that I was
+done for. "What!" said he, "again? You must break that habit, Jones." I
+wanted to be taken out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and
+the heat and the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look.
+Perhaps I lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last
+I looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great contusion,
+and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the regiment, for
+the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not lessened their fire,
+and the sun was hot, and the men were suffering.
+
+As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched back to
+bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food and, at
+length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a fearful day.
+
+In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the
+Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded in
+getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who attempted the
+crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but with what truth I
+do not know--that blue corpses floated past Washington.
+
+After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps near
+Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where water was
+plentiful.
+
+From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven days--the
+Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns: first, that of
+the week in front of Richmond; second, that of Manassas; third, that of
+Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The Confederates had been clearly
+victorious in the first two, and had succeeded in the last in
+withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's Ferry, and with the honours of a
+drawn battle against McClellan's mighty army.
+
+
+
+XXIX
+
+FOREBODINGS
+
+     "_King John_. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.
+     _King Philip_. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near Bunker
+Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we learned of
+Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies of it were seen
+in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device of the enemy. Most of
+the officers and men of Company H were not greatly impressed by this
+action on the part of the Northern President. I have reason to know,
+however, that Captain Haskell regarded the proclamation a serious
+matter. One day I had heard two men of our company--Davis and
+Stokes--talking.
+
+"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.
+
+"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.
+
+"Yes; haven't you?"
+
+"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."
+
+"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"
+
+"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for Limus
+and Peagler."
+
+Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was one of
+Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but he could
+not write.
+
+The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain Haskell, and
+unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had undergone a
+modification that was very welcome to me; his previous reserve,
+indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a friendly interest,
+yet he was always courteous.
+
+"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course you do not
+wish me to speak to the men about you."
+
+"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters worse."
+
+"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"
+
+"Not a word, sir."
+
+"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased to
+exist."
+
+"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the Fourth South
+Carolina?"
+
+"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think nothing
+further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such a man as
+Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that regiment. We shall
+know in a few days."
+
+"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.
+
+"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do. McClellan is
+giving us another display of caution, sir."
+
+"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month," said I.
+
+"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."
+
+"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.
+
+"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be said for
+McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has considerable nerve, as
+is shown by his resistance to popular clamour, and even to the urgency
+of the Washington authorities. The last papers that we have got hold of
+show that Lincoln is displeased with his general's inactivity. By the
+way, the war now assumes a new aspect."
+
+"In what respect, Captain?"
+
+"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the North to
+compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir. He burns
+his bridges."
+
+"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth greater
+effort?"
+
+"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel more
+strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men, such as are
+in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe, after a while, that
+the South is at war principally to maintain slavery, and in slavery they
+feel no interest at stake. In such conditions the South can do no more
+than she is now doing. She may continue to hold her present strength for
+a year or two more, but to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our
+ability. The proclamation will effectually prevent any European power
+from recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to
+endure a long war."
+
+"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue a war of
+invasion?"
+
+"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than defence.
+But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a defensive battle.
+Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are just the reverse. The
+way to win this war, allow me to say, is to fight behind trees and rocks
+and hedges and earthworks: never to risk a man in the open except where
+absolutely necessary, and when absolute victory is sure. To husband her
+resources in men and means is the South's first duty, sir. I hope
+General Lee will never fight another offensive battle."
+
+"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank any line
+of intrenchments that we might make?"
+
+"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which skilful
+generalship would know how to seize. If no such opportunities came, I
+would have the army to fall back and dig again."
+
+"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to the last
+ditch," said I.
+
+"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they need. Of
+course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical limit. It might
+be said that we could not fall back and leave our territory, which
+supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy. But to counteract this
+theory we have others. Disease would tell on the enemy more than on
+ourselves. Our interior lines would be shortened, and we could reenforce
+easily. The enemy, in living on our country, would be exposed to our
+enterprises. His lines of communication would always be in danger. And
+he would attack. The public opinion of the North would compel attack,
+and we should defeat attacks and lose but few men."
+
+Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change in the
+conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's Emancipation
+Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an end to hope of aid
+or intervention from Europe. His hope in the success of the South was
+high, however. The North might be strong, but the South had the
+righteous cause. He was saddened by the thought that the war would be a
+long one, and that many men must perish.
+
+I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare time,
+from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led Captain
+Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than he thought.
+
+He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for a long
+war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it mattered
+little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to expect any
+discovery of my former home and friends, and the army seemed a refuge.
+What would become of me if the war should end suddenly? I did not feel
+prepared for any work; I know no business or trade. Even if I had one,
+it would be tame after Lee's campaigns.
+
+
+
+XXX
+
+TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS
+
+     "What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,
+     The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?
+     The varying fortune of each separate field,
+     The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"
+                                               --BYRON.
+
+Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now occupied a
+line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at Bunker Hill. We
+heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan; speculation was rife as to
+the character of the new commander. It was easy to believe that the
+Federal army would soon give us work to do; its change of leaders
+clearly showed aggressive purpose, McClellan being distinguished more
+for caution than for disposition to attack.
+
+On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley. The march
+lasted many days. We passed through Winchester, Strasburg, Woodstock,
+and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap, and marched to Madison
+Court-House. From Madison we marched to Orange, and finally to
+Fredericksburg, where the army was again united by our arrival on
+December 3d. The march had been painful. For part of the time I had been
+barefoot. Many of the men were yet without shoes.
+
+The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the morning
+of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the lines, I awoke
+with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling generally. The
+surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and ordered me to the camp
+hospital, which consisted of two or three Sibley tents in the woods. I
+was laid on a bed of straw and covered with blankets.
+
+I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How far off
+the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of Company H
+came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the 11th two of
+them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to march; the enemy was
+crossing the river and was expected to attack. These men told me
+afterward that when they said good-by they felt they were saying the
+long farewell; I was not expected to recover.
+
+On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of Fredericksburg
+roaring at the front, some two or three miles away, I was too ill to
+feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the morning, I was lifted
+into an open wagon and covered with a single blanket. In this condition
+I was jolted to a place called Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted
+out of the wagon and laid upon the ground. There were others near me,
+all lying on the ground. In many places the ground was white with snow;
+the wind cut like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock
+some men put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat
+and the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started. At
+twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men put me
+into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital, several miles
+out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the morning of the
+15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has always been a wonder,
+
+I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the middle of the
+ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide, was a big stove,
+red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of people--women-nurses and
+stewards, and perhaps some convalescing patients--singing religious
+songs. There was a great open space between the red-hot stove and the
+people around it. I wanted to lie in that open space.
+
+I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor until I
+was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped. "You'll burn to
+death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon fell asleep.
+
+For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an incident
+occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man in the
+company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general affairs. The
+army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known that fact on the
+night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General Gregg had been killed. The
+papers that I saw gave me some of the details of the battle, but told me
+nothing of the position of the army, except that it was yet near
+Fredericksburg. I did not know where Company H was, and I learned
+afterward that nobody in Company H knew what had become of me.
+
+The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery was slow
+and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to return, I
+wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end of February I
+had demanded my papers and had started for the army yet near
+Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a station called
+Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine or ten miles. I found
+Company H below Fredericksburg and back from the river. Captain Haskell
+was not with the company. He had been ordered on some special duty to
+South Carolina, and returned to us a week later than my arrival. Many of
+the men--though all of twenty-six men could hardly be said to be
+many--had thought that I was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since
+the battle of Fredericksburg.
+
+When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness for so
+serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee had fought
+at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind breastworks--and had
+lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole army had been caused by a
+mistake of our own officers, who refused to allow their men to fire upon
+a line of Yankees until almost too late, believing them to be
+Confederates. It was through this error that General Gregg, for whom the
+camp of the army was named, had lost his life.
+
+Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed variously--some
+with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards rudely riven from the
+forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and picket duty occasionally.
+
+The remainder of the winter passed without events of great importance.
+Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from the Fourth South
+Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it had been reorganized as
+a battalion, fitted with my description or with either of my names. I
+spent much time in reading the books which passed from man to man in
+the company.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat more
+cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to show signs
+of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April the weather
+became mild. To say that I was content would be to say what is untrue,
+but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I knew that I had a
+friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired without reservation, and
+whose favours were extended to me freely--I mean to say personal, not
+official, favours. The more I learned of this high-minded man, the more
+did the whole world seem to me brighter and less deserving of disregard.
+He was a patriot. An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for
+a principle of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal
+interest to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle
+he was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me, was
+considered by him as a high, religious service, which he performed
+ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of his demeanour
+when leading his men in fight. His words were few at such times; he was
+the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of rant in action. Others
+would shout and scream and shriek their orders redundant and
+unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle English than all their
+distended throats. He was merciful and he was wise.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days' cooked
+rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a
+moment's notice.
+
+The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell into ranks.
+We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and formed in line of
+battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The enemy was in our front,
+on our side of the Rappahannock, and we learned that he had crossed in
+strong force up the river also. We faced the Yankees here for two days,
+but did not fire a shot.
+
+Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up the
+river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our front. The
+sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they increased in
+volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of the fight began to
+die away. The enemy were retiring before our advanced troops. Night came
+on, and we lay on our arms, expecting the day to bring battle.
+
+The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of Hooker's
+army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of artillery from
+which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the movement was retreat,
+and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so; but suddenly our march broke
+off toward the west, and the men could not conceal their joy over what
+they were now beginning to understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson
+was seen riding past the marching lines to the head of his column, or
+halted with his staff to see his troops hastening on.
+
+Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our backs
+were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of battle in
+our front. We moved along the road at supporting distance.
+
+Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the roar of
+the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous musketry. There
+was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us had swept on. We
+followed, still in column of fours upon the road, which was almost
+blocked by a battery of artillery.
+
+Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right was
+open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a breastwork from
+which the enemy had just been driven, leaving wounded and dead, their
+muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils yet upon the fires, blankets,
+knapsacks--everything.
+
+We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having become
+intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's division now
+formed the first line of battle.
+
+It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the distance
+told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again went forward.
+Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were halted in the
+thick woods.
+
+The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose a moon,
+the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full and in a
+cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two armies yet
+lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here and there a gun
+broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was not peace; now and then
+a film of cannon smoke drifted across the moon, which seemed to become
+piteous then. There was silence in the ranks.
+
+The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about nine
+o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about where
+Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful group of
+men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one whom we knew to
+be some high officer. Jackson had been shot dangerously by one of Lane's
+regiments--the Eighteenth North Carolina.
+
+General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent, and the
+line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once there came the
+noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery, and many batteries,
+and fields and woods were alive with shells and canister. More than
+forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our front. We lay and endured
+the fire. General Hill was wounded, and at midnight General Stuart of
+the cavalry took command of the corps. At last the cannon hushed. The
+terrible night passed away without sleep.
+
+At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under command of
+General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the enemy. Our brigade
+succeeded in getting into the works; but on our right the enemy's line
+still held, and as it curved far to the west it had us in flank and
+rear. A new attack at this moment by the troops on our right would have
+carried the line; the attack was not made. We were compelled to abandon
+the breastworks and run for the woods, where we formed again at once.
+
+And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an enfilade
+fire.
+
+At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole line;
+the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was won.
+
+Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant officer,
+had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our rear.
+
+We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed, and were
+ready to go forward and push the Federals to the Rappahannock, but no
+orders came. General Lee had just received intelligence of the second
+battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy, under Sedgwick, had taken the
+heights above the town, and were now advancing against our right flank.
+Our division, and perhaps others, held the field of Chancellorsville,
+while troops were hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the
+4th the Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the
+north bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of
+Hooker's army had recrossed the river.
+
+Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because of the
+enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his divisions, was not
+at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing the Federals under
+Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and thirty thousand, while
+Lee had less than sixty thousand men.
+
+We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days later we
+learned that the most illustrious man in the South was dead. No longer
+should we follow Stonewall Jackson.
+
+The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's the
+first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our General Gregg
+had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now McGowan's brigade.
+Our General Jackson had fallen at Chancellorsville, and we were now in
+the corps of A.P. Hill, whose promotion placed four brigades of our
+division under General Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks
+before had been addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division,
+Jackson's corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's
+brigade, Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk
+of letters?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General Pender, a
+battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of his division.
+Two or three men were taken from each, company--from the large companies
+three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had five regiments of ten
+companies each, so that McGowan's battalion of sharp-shooters was to be
+composed of about a hundred and twenty men. General McGowan chose
+Captain Haskell as the commander of the battalion. When I heard of this
+appointment, I went to the Captain and begged to go with him. He said,
+"I had already chosen you, Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the
+battalion was drawn up for the first time, orders were read showing the
+organization of the command. There were to be three companies, each
+under a lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the
+First. Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant
+of Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second
+sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then it
+came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.
+
+After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my approach.
+"You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't know the other
+men, and I do know you."
+
+I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me, and
+started to go away.
+
+"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of the
+company?"
+
+"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others and say
+they are good men."
+
+"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but you
+know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do almost all the
+skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four or five men in the
+battalion out of those companies. It is one thing, to be a good soldier
+in the line and another thing to be a good skirmisher."
+
+"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that anybody would
+prefer being in the battalion."
+
+"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence of mind
+to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like the
+battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the future. The men
+get their rations and their pay through their original companies, but
+are no longer attached to them otherwise. On the march and in battle
+they will serve as a distinct command, and will be exposed to many
+dangers that the line of battle will escape, though the danger, on the
+whole, will be lessened, I dare say, especially for alert men who know
+how to seize every advantage. But the most of the men have not been
+trained for such service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We
+must begin at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."
+
+"I will do my best, Captain," said I.
+
+"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some writing
+for me."
+
+That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was
+prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We
+drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill as
+skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of it.
+
+Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at Fredericksburg.
+Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the Shenandoah Valley, and
+onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery Hill. The Federals again
+crossed the Rappahannock, but in small bodies. Their army was on the
+Falmouth Hills beyond the river.
+
+On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our
+places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On either
+side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown up, and
+with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a fine shaded
+avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a Federal
+skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.
+
+Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in the low
+ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods, and broom-sedge
+covered the unwooded space between the opposing lines; rarely could a
+man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch and fired above the bank,
+which formed a natural breastwork. At my place, on the left of Company
+A, a large tree was growing upon the bank. I was standing behind this
+tree; a bullet struck it. The firing was very slow--men trying to pick a
+target. When the bullet struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise
+from behind a bush. I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed
+by me, and I saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the
+tree was struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good
+protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it gave
+me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless; at any
+rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain on my arm.
+I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between my arm and
+body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a scratch; the ball
+had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch below the armpit and had
+drawn some blood.
+
+We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had no
+losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the river. While
+going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of talk concerning
+their first day's experience in the battalion of sharp-shooters. They
+were to undergo other experiences--experiences which would cause them to
+hold their tongues.
+
+
+
+XXXI
+
+GLOOM
+
+     "He was a man, take him all in all,
+     I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We broke camp
+on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper; Chester Gap,
+Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we forded the Potomac
+for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown at the ford by which we
+had advanced nine months before in our hurried march from Harper's Ferry
+to Sharpsburg. We passed once more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a
+village called Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our
+division rested for three days.
+
+On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small
+farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at cheap
+prices. Our Confederate money was received with less unwillingness than
+we might have expected. We got onions, cheese, and bread--rye-bread.
+Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted milk. Coming back toward
+camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine cows--a boy driving them home
+from pasture. We halted. Rhodes ordered the boy to milk the cows; the
+boy replied that he could not milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held
+the sergeant's gun, and he soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was
+talking with the boy.
+
+"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.
+
+"About two months ago," said he.
+
+"Is he the only brother you have?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"How does he like the army?"
+
+"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but he
+couldn't."
+
+"And he doesn't like it now?"
+
+"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had to."
+
+"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the Yankee
+army?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."
+
+I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes had
+intended to pay.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July 1st
+found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was great,
+although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and unobstructed, as
+though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do. Heth's division led the
+corps. We descended from a range of high hills, having in our front an
+extensive region dotted over with farmhouses and with fertile fields
+interspersed with groves. The march continued; steadily eastward went
+the corps.
+
+At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in front. We
+were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right, deployed, and the
+column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving as skirmishers
+parallel with the brigade.
+
+The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the right and
+went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a large low plain
+to the south. We halted in position, occupying a most formidable
+defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the division, and perhaps
+other divisions, went by into battle, and left us on the hill,
+protecting their flank and rear.
+
+Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in many
+small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within range of our
+rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our rear and left. We
+could see the smoke of burning houses and see shells burst in the air,
+and could hear the shouts of our men as they advanced from one position
+to another, driving the enemy.
+
+A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me a folded
+paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this note. I fear
+the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking for orders. Be
+back as quickly as you can."
+
+My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet burning.
+Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and Confederates. In one
+place behind a stone fence there were many blue corpses. The ambulances
+and infirmary men were busy. In a road I saw side by side a Confederate
+and a Federal. The Confederate was on his back; his jacket was open; his
+shirt showed a great red splotch right on his breast. Death must have
+been instantaneous.
+
+At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much farther
+forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender was yet on
+his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said, without looking
+at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."
+
+I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw Lieutenant
+Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer of the
+regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were wounded.
+The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy behind a stone
+fence and routed them, and had pursued them through the streets of the
+town and taken many prisoners. Butler and Williams had gone into a house
+foraging, and in the cellar had taken a whole company commanded by a
+lieutenant. Other tales there were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone
+entirely through the town, followed by straggling men, and had reached
+the top of Cemetery Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter
+disorganization, and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him
+to come on; but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped.
+The flag of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that
+of any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General Reynolds,
+had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had in the early
+hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the brigade had
+been captured.
+
+All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to give. I
+hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost time. It was not
+yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the second time over the bloody
+field. I passed again between the Confederate and the Federal whom I had
+seen lying side by side. Our man was sitting in the road, and
+eating hardtack.
+
+When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I told
+about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating hardtack,
+Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that Yankee's haversack!"
+
+For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At ten
+o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He made me
+sit by him.
+
+"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the other
+companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."
+
+"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.
+
+"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held in
+reserve."
+
+"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"
+
+"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say that it
+was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must be observed.
+Of course, if your company happened to be of average number and either
+of the others was very small, I should take Company A instead. But it
+does not so happen; so the work you have done to-day gives Company A a
+rest--if rest it can be called."
+
+"But why not take the whole battalion?"
+
+"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day have
+been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee attacks
+again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one defensive battle."
+
+"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville was a
+great victory--and to-day's battle also."
+
+"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the enemy
+is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against
+Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have stopped on
+Sunday morning after taking the second line of intrenchments. General
+Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the wrong time I dare say.
+Should he not have pressed Hooker into the river before giving attention
+to Sedgwick[8]?"
+
+[8] Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was impregnable
+to any attack the Confederates were then able to make. Hooker himself,
+as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to attack. Lee's march
+against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the right movement. See the
+Comte de Paris, _in loc_. [ED.]
+
+"Then you believe in attacking," said I.
+
+"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has been that
+we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we refuse to trouble
+them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you say, Chancellorsville
+was a great victory; anything that would have sent Hooker's army back
+over the river, even without a battle, would have been success. But
+speaking from a military view, I dare say it was a false movement to
+divide our forces as we did there. We succeeded because our opponents
+allowed us to succeed. It was in Hooker's power on Saturday to crush
+either Jackson or McLaws. Yet, as you suggest, General Lee was compelled
+to take great risks; no matter what he should do, his position seemed
+well-nigh desperate, and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on
+Sunday morning, before the action began, if General Lee had only known
+the exact condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would
+in the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have
+assaulted Hooker's works."
+
+"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.
+
+"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march against
+Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated. We had
+enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first Manassas, when
+Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won the battle by the
+steady conduct of a few regiments who held the enemy until Johnston's
+men came up. Of course I am not making any comparison between Generals
+Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and Chancellorsville are past, and
+observe, sir, what a loss we have had to-day. I dare say the enemy's
+loss is heavier, but he can stand losses here, and we cannot; another
+day or two like to-day, and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the
+enemy for a mile or so until it occupies a stronger position than
+before, is not--you will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which,
+the Confederacy began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He
+will attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot
+destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get any
+reenforcement. Indeed, Jones, I do not see how we can be reenforced at
+all--so far from our base, and the enemy so powerful to prevent it."
+
+"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"
+
+"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger every day,
+while we should become weaker. The enemy would not attack until we
+should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass our retreat and
+endeavour to bring us to battle."
+
+"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"
+
+"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we shall be
+losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not absurd for a
+small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation in the face of more
+powerful armies? If we had arms which the Federals could not match, we
+should find it easy to conquer a peace on this field. But their
+equipment is superior to ours. The campaign is wrong. If inactivity
+could not have been tolerated, we should have reenforced General Bragg
+and regained our own country instead of running our heads against this
+wall up here. But, do you not agree with, me that inactivity would have
+been best? Hooker's army would not have stirred this summer until too
+late for any important campaign. The year would have closed with
+Virginia secure and with great recuperation to all our eastern states.
+Our army would have been swelled by the return of our wounded and sick,
+without any losses to offset our increase. As it is, our losses are
+going to be difficult if not impossible to make up. I fear that Lee's
+army will never be as strong hereafter as it is to-night."
+
+"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"
+
+"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that. Look at the
+victories of this war. They have been claimed by both aides--many of
+them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort Donelson, where has
+there been a great victory?"
+
+"The Chickahominy," said I.
+
+"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the Federals,
+and McClellan escaped us."
+
+"Second Manassas."
+
+"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped on the
+second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now on
+that hill."
+
+"Fredericksburg."
+
+"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been allowed to
+get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the effect that Jackson
+was strongly in favour of a night attack upon the Federals huddled up
+on our side of the river?"
+
+"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital. You
+know I was not in the battle."
+
+"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished to throw
+his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the men were to
+wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that they might
+recognize each other."
+
+"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"
+
+"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals into the
+river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."
+
+"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's army?"
+
+"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside to get
+away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too merciful, and
+that he is restrained because we are killing our own people. If
+Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee might have
+listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have been balanced
+in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been killing Frenchmen, I
+dare say he would have had more fight in him on the 18th of September.
+After all that we read in the newspapers, Jones, about the vandalism
+practised in this war, yet this war is, I dare say, the least inhumane
+that ever was waged. I don't think our men hate the men on the
+other side."
+
+"I don't," said I.
+
+"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too unfortunate as to
+opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not destroyed; they get
+away; when we gain a field, it is only the moral effect that remains
+with us. War is different from the old wars. The only thorough defeats
+are surrenders. It would take days for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's
+at long range, even if Meade should stand and do nothing. We may defeat
+Meade,--I don't see why we should not,--but in less than a week we
+should be compelled to fight him again, and we should be weaker and he
+would be stronger than before."
+
+"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed whole
+armies."
+
+"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In Caesar's wars,
+for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical strength and endurance
+were the qualities that prevailed. The men became exhausted backing away
+or slinging away at each other. In such a condition a regiment of
+cavalry is turned loose on a broad plain against a division unable to
+flee, and one horseman puts a company to death; all he has to do is to
+cut and thrust."
+
+"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we could
+get reenforcements," I said.
+
+"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get twenty."
+
+"We could retire after victory," I said.
+
+"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know that he
+is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know that he is
+quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to me that his
+reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say his wonderful
+ability as an engineer accounts for it."
+
+"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France recognize
+us?"
+
+"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that? Ever
+since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of European
+recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon gone."
+
+"What was it, Captain?"
+
+"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by
+emancipating the slaves gradually."
+
+"Was that seriously thought of?"
+
+"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the main. We do
+not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked out that there
+was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether any vote was ever had
+I do not know; I dare say those in favour of the measure found they were
+not strong enough, and thought best not to press it."
+
+"What effect would such a course have had?"
+
+"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have
+recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a measure.
+In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would have been laid
+at rest. The North would have been eager to conciliate the South, and it
+would have become possible to reconstruct the Union with clear
+definitions of the sovereignty of the States."
+
+"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a gradual
+emancipation."
+
+"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in fact, there
+is great justification for it. It is too universal, however. It does not
+give enough opportunity for a slave to develop, and to make a future for
+himself. Still, we have some grand men among the slaves. Many of them
+would suffer death for the interest of their masters' families. Then,
+too, we have in the South a type unknown in the rest of the world since
+feudalism: we have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana,
+reproductions of the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The
+general condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an
+inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small share
+in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a slave at
+home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented. Witness his
+docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children while his masters
+are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds. Such conduct deserves
+recognition. I would say that a system of rewards should be planned by
+which a worthy negro, ambitious to become free, could by meritorious
+conduct achieve his freedom. But this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It
+is good for nobody. A race of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of
+infants with the physical force of men. What would become of them?
+Suppose the North should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies
+disbanded, and the States back in the Union or held as territories. Has
+anybody the least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the
+new dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the
+beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and
+would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro
+offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine. The
+result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would be far
+worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies should
+indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that our own
+people should be driven out and our lands given to the slaves--what
+would become of them? We know their character. They look not one day
+ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence, anarchy. And the worst
+men of the race would hold the rest in terror. Immorality would be at a
+premium, sir. The race would lose what it had gained. But, on the other
+hand, put into practice a plan for gradual freedom based on good
+conduct; you would see whites and blacks living in peace. The negro
+would begin to improve, and the white people would help him. It would
+not be long before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom,
+not race freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be
+great striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected
+thereby from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so
+done we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden
+emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout her
+dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she pays the
+owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a mistake for the
+Southern colonies, for South Carolina especially."
+
+"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."
+
+"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts had. Our
+best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied to the best of
+the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our trade with the
+mother country was profitable, and our products were favoured by
+bounties. We had no connection, with the French and Indian wars which
+had given rise to so much trouble between Great Britain and New England.
+But our people thought it would be base to desert the cause of
+Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the main reason that caused
+South Carolina to throw in her lot with that of our Northern colonies.
+See what we get for it. We renounce our profitable commerce with
+England, and we help our sister colonies; just so soon as their
+profitable commerce with us is threatened by our withdrawal, they
+maintain it by putting us to death. It is their nature, sir. They live
+by trade. If they continue to increase in power, they will hold the West
+in commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever
+reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of trade."
+
+"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"
+
+"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New England
+suffered very little. New York suffered; so did Pennsylvania and New
+Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South Carolina, which was in
+reality no more than a conquered province for years, and yet held
+faithful to the cause of the colonies. And it was the eventual success
+of the Southern arms that caused the surrender of Cornwallis. The North
+is very ungrateful to us."
+
+"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should have
+been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.
+
+"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would have been
+freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them. England and
+America could have controlled the world in peace; but here we are,
+diligently engaged in killing one another."
+
+"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever before."
+
+"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I have
+hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."
+
+"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.
+
+"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to
+retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from the
+situation,--- but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be
+disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."
+
+"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"
+
+"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and have
+losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and those of us
+who are able to march shall see Virginia again."
+
+"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded here?"
+
+"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this war is
+truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to the common
+soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in slaves, give their
+lives for independence--- the independence of their States. Yet it is
+useless to grieve in anticipation."
+
+"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said I; "at
+least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in battle to
+death by disease."
+
+"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.
+
+     "'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,
+       The appointed and the unappointed day;
+       On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,
+       Nor thee, on the second, the Universe slay.'"
+
+"Who is that, Captain?"
+
+"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."
+
+"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"
+
+"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."
+
+"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"
+
+"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"
+
+"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems not
+unfamiliar. Is he living?"
+
+"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of your old
+personal friends?"
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back
+somewhere."
+
+"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."
+
+"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name that
+strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."
+
+"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."
+
+"In what sense, Captain?"
+
+"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East is
+fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is inconsistent."
+
+"But you are not a fatalist."
+
+"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the ends that
+we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is blocked out in
+the large for us by powers over which we can have no control, but that
+within certain limits we do the shaping of our own lives."
+
+"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will be
+done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world does
+one battle, more or fewer, have?"
+
+"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the result is
+nothing; but every event is important to some life."
+
+"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over yonder, and
+that we could have occupied it but that our men were recalled."
+
+"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy would only
+have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging at
+this moment."
+
+Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to do your
+full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more we have to do,
+the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must collect all our
+energies, and each man must do the work of two. Impress the men strongly
+with the necessity for courage and endurance."
+
+The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain good night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the brigade, which
+was in line a little to the south of the Seminary. The sun shone hot.
+The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery roared at our left and far
+to our right. At times shells came over us. A caisson near by exploded.
+In the afternoon a great battle was raging some two miles to our right.
+Longstreet's corps had gone in.
+
+At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On the
+litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men gathered around.
+Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of them approached the
+litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men came slowly back--one at a
+time--grim.
+
+I asked who it was that had been killed.
+
+"Captain Haskell," they said.
+
+My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell? Our
+Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I now knew
+that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable. He had passed
+through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to so many deaths that
+had refused to demand him, had so freely offered his life, had been so
+calm and yet so valiant in battle, had been so worshipped by all the
+left wing of the regiment and by the battalion, had been so wise in
+council and so forceful in the field, had, in fine, been one of those we
+instinctively feel are heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could
+not be! There must be some mistake!
+
+But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw Sergeant
+Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke down utterly.
+
+
+
+XXXII
+
+NIGHT
+
+     "From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,
+      The hum of either army stilly sounds,
+      That the fixed sentinels almost receive
+      The secret whispers of each other's watch."
+                                               --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was ordered
+forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down the hill in
+front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with cannon and
+intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was alive with
+skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we advanced. Down our hill
+and into the hollow; there the fire increased and we lay flat on the
+ground. Our skirmish-line was some two or three hundred yards in front
+of us, in the wheat on the slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.
+
+Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the wheat; what
+for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know[9]. It was Ramseur's brigade
+of Rodes's division.
+
+[9] Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at
+the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill. [ED.]
+
+Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the left
+guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought it likely
+that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into its ranks.
+
+Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the wheat. We
+could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing and shouting;
+they charged the Federal army. What was expected of them? It seemed
+absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many rifles could be
+seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down the hill,
+helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us, and went back
+toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.
+
+It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets of the
+next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket in these
+parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had remained and
+must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.
+
+Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a circuit
+to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned and passed
+word down the line to the lieutenant in command of Company A that I
+wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I explained the trouble. The
+lieutenant did not know what to do. This gentleman was a valuable
+officer in the line, but was out of place in the battalion. He asked me
+what ought to be done. I replied that we must not fail to connect, else
+there would be a gap in the line, and how wide a gap nobody could tell.
+If I had known then what I know now, I should have told him to report
+the condition to Colonel Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but
+I did otherwise; I told him that if he would remain on the left, I would
+hunt for the picket-line. He consented.
+
+I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and searched a
+long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of Company A and
+proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for our pickets. The
+lieutenant approved.
+
+The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front. I moved
+slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon, over which
+bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be hidden I went
+forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and looked. Here and there
+in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns, and many signs of battle.
+The wheat had been trodden down.
+
+Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of the
+battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in most places
+untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see our own men. I
+went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right I saw a fence, or
+rather a line of bushes and briers which had grown up where a fence had
+been in years past. This fence-row stretched straight up the hill toward
+the cemetery. I went to it. It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the
+shelter of this friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was
+now in front of Company A's right.
+
+The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards in
+advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and crawled along
+the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant pausing and looking. I
+reached a denser and taller clump of bushes, and raised myself to my
+full height. In front were black spots in the wheat--five paces apart---
+a picket-line--whose?
+
+The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat with
+the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back, lest the
+metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in front of me, and
+on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to stretch across the
+front of the whole battalion. If that was our picket, why should there
+be another in rear of it? They must be Yankees.
+
+I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The line was
+perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men nearer to
+me,--officers, or men going and returning in its rear,--but the line
+seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not seem tall enough for
+standing men. No doubt they were sitting in the wheat with their guns in
+their laps. I heard no word--not a sound except the noises coming from
+the crest of the hill beyond them, where was the Federal line of battle.
+I looked back. Seminary Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun,
+picked it up, rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no
+longer see the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my
+right in order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had
+not budged.
+
+I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt almost
+sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We ought to have
+sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why we did not, I do not
+know, unless it was that we felt it our duty to solve the difficulty
+ourselves. The left of the battalion was unprotected; this would not do.
+Something must be done.
+
+I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals to ten
+paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The left platoon
+extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from centre to left.
+This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap. Still no pickets
+could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left and returned.
+
+Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the left
+until something was found. He would have filled the interval, even had
+it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps apart, at
+least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General Pender.
+Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to the
+right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent word to
+him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was growing. How wide
+was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other side of this gap
+search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a brigade or more might
+creep through the gap; still the lieutenant did not propose anything.
+
+At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked like a
+Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that I thought I
+could get nearer to it than I had been before, and speak to the men
+without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun to fear sarcasm. What
+if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line of gray pickets in our
+front? Should I ever hear the last of it?
+
+Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of anything. He
+was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had proposed an advance
+of Company A up the hill, he would have approved, and would have led
+the advance.
+
+The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the place where
+I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther. Again the thought
+came that there would have been some communicating between that line and
+ours if that were Confederate. If they were our men, we had been in
+their rear for three hours. Impossible to suppose that nobody in that
+time should have come back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line,
+and I was in its front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they
+had a man or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could
+be no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my
+progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not less
+black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre
+night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were, they
+felt strongly the presence of the enemy.
+
+Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a
+gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along which I
+was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed. There had once
+been a gate hanging to that post and closing against another post now
+concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would crawl to that post out
+there, and speak to the men in front. They would suppose that I was in
+the fence-row, and, if they fired, would shoot into the bushes, while I
+should be safe behind the post--such was my thought.
+
+I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak, I
+thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The black
+spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front. The line
+stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the left--through
+the fence-row.
+
+It was not necessary to speak very loud.
+
+I asked, "Whose picket is that?"
+
+My voice sounded strangely tremulous.
+
+There was no answer.
+
+If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would be no
+sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said, "Come up and
+see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see that the black
+spots had become large objects; the moon was shining.
+
+I must ask again.
+
+I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead that day.
+
+I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's brigade?"
+
+No answer.
+
+Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina brigade?"
+
+Not a word.
+
+It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men? Certainly
+Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two or three men
+might rush forward and seize me before I could get to my feet. Yet,
+would not a line of our men out here be silent? They would be very near
+the enemy and would be very silent. But they would send a man back to
+make me stop talking. They were Yankees; but why did they not say
+something? or do something? Perhaps they were in doubt about me. I was
+so near their lines they could hardly believe me a Confederate. I half
+decided to slip away at once.
+
+But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy the
+lieutenant and myself also.
+
+Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that is?"
+
+A voice replied, "Our brigade!"
+
+This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had heard it
+frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for troops to pass,
+you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and some-would-be wag would
+say, "Our regiment."
+
+I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly. Before
+I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees also had
+this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees selected one man
+to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to preserve silence, and
+was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A man perhaps who knew
+something of the sayings in the Southern army?
+
+Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud, "What army
+do you belong to?"
+
+Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"
+
+I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word "you."
+
+Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out in front
+and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did they not bid me
+come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very likely they thought I
+was trying to desert, and feeling my way through fear of falling into
+the hands of the wrong people.
+
+I replied at once, "I am a rebel."
+
+What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know, unless it
+was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe, being in their
+rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at once accept the
+challenge. I wanted to end the matter.
+
+They accepted.
+
+A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen rifles
+cracked.
+
+They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but then, no
+bullet can be heard at such a nearness.
+
+I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to rise and
+run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could manage better. I
+would remain quiet until they should think I had gone. Then I would
+crawl away.
+
+Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start. Suddenly
+a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the fence-row. A Yankee
+had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary pitch, but very gruffly,
+"Who _are_ you, anyhow?"
+
+If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones. It was
+my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to come, but the
+next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how many I was, and I
+stuck fast.
+
+I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back and
+reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate front.
+
+Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking back to
+our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had been warned
+that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from firing on me. They
+had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets had whistled over them,
+and they had thought me a prisoner, so when they saw a man coming toward
+them they were itching to shoot.
+
+We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the skirmish-line at the
+left of Pender's division.
+
+
+
+XXXIII
+
+HELL
+
+     "Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;
+      Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,
+      Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."
+                                                        --BYRON.
+
+The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as the sun
+was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced. Down the hill
+they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a countercharge, and the
+battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were almost intermixed with them
+before they ran. And now our lieutenant of Company A showed his mettle.
+He sprang before his company, sword in his left hand and revolver in the
+other, and led the fight, rushing right up the hill, and, when near
+enough, firing every barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both
+lines settled back to their first positions.
+
+We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the rear to
+carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four men lifted the
+stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled heavily to the
+ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot, leaving but two; they
+raised their stretcher in the air and moved it about violently. The
+Yankees ceased firing.
+
+The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly work
+ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails, covered with
+wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon appeared along the
+line. The protection was slight, yet by lying flat our bodies could not
+be seen. On their side the Yankee skirmishers also had worked, and were
+now behind low heaps of rails and earth. Practice-shooting began, and
+was kept up without intermission for hour after hour.
+
+We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the men to be
+sparing with water.
+
+From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the Seminary--could
+see through the cupola from one window to the other. The Seminary was
+General Lee's headquarters.
+
+To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn. Captain
+Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn. It was five
+hundred yards from the pits of Company A.
+
+The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond the right
+of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced from the
+Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn. They began to
+enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we were engaged in front.
+
+A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down the line
+for me to take his place at the right of the company.
+
+Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in Company
+A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.
+
+We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right oblique
+five hundred yards.
+
+We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two hundred
+yards.
+
+A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see him
+loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his shoulder. I
+took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I thought of the
+Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any hatred of him? And the
+answer came: No; I am fighting for life and liberty; I hate nobody. I
+fired, and saw the man no more.
+
+Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy recovered it.
+
+Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line of
+battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our losses
+were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until past midday,
+and there was no sign of an ending.
+
+At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then the
+devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the air was
+full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal batteries
+answering doubled the din and made the valley and its slopes a hell of
+hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went far over our heads; we
+were much nearer to the Federal artillery than to our own. Some of our
+shells, perhaps from defective powder, fell amongst us; some would burst
+in mid air, and the fragments would hurtle down. The skirmishing
+ceased--in an ocean one drop more is naught.
+
+I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with his hat
+over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were unrelieved. The men
+were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained, haggard, battle-worn, and
+stern. Still shrieked the shells overhead, and yet roared the guns to
+front and rear--a pandemonium of sight and sound reserved from the
+foundation of the world for the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun
+went out in smoke. The smell of burning powder filled the land. Before
+us and behind us bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of
+this awful picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its
+foreground the peaceful city of the dead.
+
+For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth and sky;
+then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness was but brief.
+Out from our rear and right now marched the Confederate infantry on to
+destruction.
+
+We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men stand,
+regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than eighteen hours
+we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope. We knew that our
+line, marching out for attack, could not even reach the enemy. Before
+it could come within charging distance it would be beaten to pieces by
+artillery. The men looked at the advancing line and said one to another,
+"Lee has made a mistake."
+
+The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary Ridge.
+
+The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the valley and
+up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front and right,--and
+far to the right,--pumping death into its ranks.
+
+I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words concerning
+General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military man; I knew
+nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had knelled the doom
+of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone fences the flower of
+the Army of the Potomac protected by two hundred guns. It was simply
+insane. It was not war, neither was it magnificent; it was too absurd
+to be grand.
+
+Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the
+skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the spot
+where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was already in
+tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all described
+Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line came on like
+troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too gallant; but there
+was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on Seminary Ridge were looking
+at Pickett's division from its rear; the blue men were looking upon it
+from its front; from neither position could the alignment be seen; to
+them it looked straight and fine; but that line passed by me so that I
+looked along it, and I know that it was swayed and bent long before it
+fired a shot. As it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty,
+forty, even fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men
+for this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry, but
+for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and left, a
+semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed the ground
+with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an iron tempest
+such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at Gettysburg--- a
+tempest in which no army on earth could live.
+
+I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came under the
+fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged, because the gaps
+could not be filled as fast as they were made; but the fragments kept on
+up the hill, uniting as they went.
+
+And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the sound,
+that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their battle.
+Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking; the thunder
+of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and our men--those
+that are left, but not the line--still go forward.
+
+Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right swarm
+out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his front still
+stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men live to pass.
+
+Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere have long
+ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch the struggle for
+the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where a few trees stand,
+smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and fate are working as they
+never worked. Lines of infantry from either flank move toward the
+whirlpool. They close upon the smoke.
+
+Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running
+half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the
+hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become prisoners.
+
+A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their right
+and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of Confederates
+advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The battle of
+Gettysburg is over.
+
+
+
+XXXIV
+
+FALLING-WATERS
+
+                      "Prepare you, generals:
+     The enemy comes on in gallant show;
+     Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,
+     And something to be done immediately."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division leading.
+Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The slow retreat
+continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown we formed line
+of battle.
+
+The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers advanced
+against us. We held our own, but lost some men.
+
+The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits made of
+fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and ate the grain
+uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but with little
+success. There was great suffering from hunger.
+
+For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown, skirmishing
+every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded the battalion. We
+were told that the Potomac was at a high stage, and that we must wait
+until a pontoon bridge could be laid.
+
+At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters received
+orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then to retire. The
+division was withdrawing and depended upon us to prevent the advance of
+the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet to the skin and almost
+exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and watching.
+
+At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone. We
+followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was deep; the
+army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten miles. After
+sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then, behind us. We supposed
+that the enemy's advance was firing on our stragglers as they would try
+to get away. The march was very difficult, because of the mud and mainly
+because of our exhaustion.
+
+We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile away.
+It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we could see
+a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and wagons--some filing
+slowly away to the south, others standing in well-ordered ranks. On some
+prominent hills batteries had been planted. It was a great sight. The
+sun was shining on this display. Lee's army had effected a crossing.
+
+On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At the
+river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with stacked
+arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to cross; for there
+was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was yet passing, and it
+would take hours for all to cross.
+
+We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men to
+decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped on the
+ground, to rest and sleep.
+
+The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all around
+me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired, with his gun
+at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men on horses were
+amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with pistols which they were
+firing. Our men were scattering, not in flight, but to deploy.
+
+A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He was
+standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed and fired.
+He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up and went
+headforemost to the ground.
+
+The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who had
+ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance squadron.
+More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty yards long,
+covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to allow the enemy to
+see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted troops at the head of the
+bridge. The numbers of the Federals constantly increased. They
+outflanked us on our right. They dismounted and deployed as skirmishers.
+They advanced, and the fighting began.
+
+Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines, and the
+berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired. I never saw
+so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over us and amongst
+us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw hat that I had
+swapped for with one of the men; where he had got it, I don't know. My
+hat was a target. I took it off.
+
+The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From the
+division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us. The
+regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy still
+increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we had a
+skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force ready to
+strengthen any weak part of the line.
+
+The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line was
+reestablished. They got around our right and a few of them got into our
+rear. One of them rode up to Peagler of Company H, an unarmed infirmary
+man; he brandished his sword and ordered Peagler to surrender. Peagler
+picked up a fence-rail and struck the rider from his horse.
+
+Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house, firing
+from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their flanks and
+rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the house, and the
+company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded, who, however,
+got away.
+
+General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had already
+lasted three hours and threatened to continue.
+
+At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing numbers of
+the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again, we could see that
+the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops were on the south side
+of the river. On the bridge were only a few straggling men
+running across.
+
+And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its crest was
+occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they began busily to
+pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat in my hand.
+
+We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to throw
+shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion flanked to
+the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong across, with Yankee
+bullets splashing the water to the right and left; meanwhile our
+batteries continued to throw shells over our heads, and Federal guns,
+now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were answering with spirit.
+
+
+
+XXXV
+
+AWAKENINGS
+
+                             "'Tis far off;
+     And rather like a dream than an assurance
+     That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.
+
+With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling Waters,
+the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We marched a
+mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At night we
+received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.
+
+On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out. Starvation
+and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered greatly, not from
+fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of ranks, went fifty yards into
+the thicket, and lay down under a tree.
+
+That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared. I shrank
+from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing it.
+
+My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard of the
+surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of demoralization had
+touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg; but now men talked
+despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed hopeless.
+
+Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had gone on.
+What interest had they in me or I in them? I had fever.
+
+The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the thicket.
+A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of fifty
+thousand; they have gone on.
+
+Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not
+whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My
+Captain has gone.
+
+Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.
+
+At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The life I
+live is too difficult.
+
+And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The Captain has
+not died too soon.
+
+What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him. I shall
+never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt; I am still
+enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ... into what? What
+does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying here? Can he put
+thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am? What does he think now
+of slavery? of State rights? of war?
+
+He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is better. He
+is at peace. Would I also were at peace.
+
+I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to the road,
+fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor Federal was in
+sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at Bunker Hill.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were approaching
+Culpeper.
+
+During the months of August and September we were in camp near Orange
+Court-House.
+
+My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I should
+have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had so greatly
+suffered because of the Captain's death.
+
+My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no purpose. To
+fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I had no relish for
+fighting. Fighting was absurd.
+
+The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he imagined
+General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great reluctance in
+giving orders that would result in the death of Americans at the hands
+of Americans. I remembered that at Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the
+trigger, I had found no hatred in me toward the man I was trying to
+kill. I wondered if the men generally were without hate. I believed they
+were; there might be exceptions.
+
+We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's division.
+We had camp guard and picket duty.
+
+Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had been
+dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was monotonous. Some
+conscripts were received into each company. Many of the old men would
+never return to us. Some were lying with two inches of earth above their
+breasts; some were in the distant South on crutches they must
+always use.
+
+The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious. Captain
+Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.
+
+I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I made an
+object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy. Where had there
+ever been such an experience? I thought of myself as Berwick, and pitied
+him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him _you_.
+
+Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had been
+promoted, and was elsewhere.
+
+At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many successive
+nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the "me" that I saw
+as a different person from the "me" that saw.
+
+My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the surgeon.
+
+Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long ago given
+me up for dead.
+
+Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My mind was
+filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How I ever began
+to think of such, a possibility I could not know.
+
+My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and powerful
+and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the strong likelihood
+was that it was neither, but was of medium worth.
+
+My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman, young and
+sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who was she? Was
+she all fancy?
+
+Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman except the
+nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in Richmond and
+elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the face of my dream.
+None seemed it's equal in sweetness and dignity.
+
+I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the men. I
+had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel, and as the
+lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.
+
+No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history of myself
+that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but one--Jerry
+Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was a great forager,
+and kept us both in food. The rations were almost regular, but the fat
+bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The other men were in good
+health, and ate heartily of the coarse food given them. Butler had bacon
+and meal to sell.
+
+The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did not
+exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not decide to
+say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell him all I
+knew. He would have thought me insane.
+
+I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket
+regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner self.
+
+At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would recur
+to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my original
+regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time in which to
+ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if ever I got the
+smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and there to never
+let it go.
+
+Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be gone
+before I could define them. They left no result but doubt--sometimes
+fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset me--not of this war, but
+war. I had a vague notion that in some hazy past I had listened to
+strong reasons against war. Were they from the Captain? No; he had been
+against war, but he had fought for the South with relish--they did not
+come from him. None the less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they
+more strongly impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from
+some one who not only gave precept but also lived example.
+
+Who was he? I might not hope to know.
+
+Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at times
+strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men were good
+men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said against them; but I
+felt that I was not entirely of them, that they had little thought
+beyond their personal duties, which they were willing always to do
+provided their officers clearly prescribed them, and their personal
+attachments, in which I could have no part. Of course there were
+exceptions.
+
+I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had a
+certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet an
+incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not mere pity.
+The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company H. A lieutenant
+was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate was our highest
+non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the company's commander.
+The officer in command did not, however, use influence upon the men to
+secure votes. My preference for the position was Louis Bellot, who had
+been dangerously wounded at Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon
+return to the company. I took up his cause, and, without his knowledge,
+secured enough votes to elect him.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a
+miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was failing.
+Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts of this war. It
+was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason told me that the
+invaders should be driven back. The South had not been guilty of
+plunging the two countries into war; the South had tried to avert war.
+The only serious question which my mind could raise upon the conduct of
+the South was: Had we sufficiently tried to avert war? Had we done all
+that we could? I did not know, and I doubted.
+
+As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon marching
+on to battle, and I thought of all this immense preparation for
+wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with horror in my heart. Why
+could not this war have been avoided? I did not know, but I felt that an
+overwhelming responsibility attached somewhere, for it was not likely
+that all possibilities of peace had been exhausted by our people.
+
+As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes and their
+responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with them; but I
+was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine, and upon me also
+weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust upon our side.
+
+The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me the
+cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong. I looked
+in the faces of the officers and men around me and read patient
+endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at myself and said,
+Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious; go to the doctor and
+get well of your fancies.
+
+Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the Federal
+soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of men are they?
+They must believe they are right. And one side or the other must be
+wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are millions. Millions of
+men are joined together to perpetrate wrong while believing that they
+are right? Can such a condition be?
+
+Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other men in
+whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of either
+side impure?
+
+No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may differ
+conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.
+
+Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is wrong in
+warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for? For union and
+for abolition of slavery; but primarily for union.
+
+And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for slavery; but
+principally for State rights.
+
+And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily wrong.
+
+Then, may both North, and South be right?
+
+The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where? Not in
+the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had to confess
+failure. The result of my thought was only the suggestion that both of
+two seemingly opposite thoughts might possibly be true.
+
+On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a city,
+where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and at whose
+house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon my mind that
+when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the 9th, while we were
+crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march through Madison
+Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of the face of my dream.
+I thought of little else. Food was repugnant. I had fever, and was full
+of fancies. I was surprised by the thought that I had twice already been
+ill in the army. Once was at the time of the battle of Fredericksburg;
+but when and where was the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I
+had been sick in the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and
+before I ever saw Dr. Frost.
+
+Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result. Suddenly I
+connected the face of my dream with my forgotten illness. But that was
+all. My old tutor was a doctor and had attended me. I felt sure of
+so much.
+
+Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name. Some
+name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr. Some-one I had no
+doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the face of my dream, but it
+would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr. Frost had never been my teacher.
+
+We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north of
+Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not
+unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near by,
+the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect of this
+farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when alone I
+hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous march around
+Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the Shenandoah Valley after
+Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our retreat from Pennsylvania.
+
+What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in the
+camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as yet
+uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We might be
+advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to Meade's rear,
+just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two; another day might
+show. The most of the men believed that we were on a flank march similar
+to Jackson's, and some of them went so far as to say that both Ewell's
+and Hills corps were now near Madison Court-House.
+
+I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was upon
+myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me, but lay
+apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is true, reverted
+to the situation of the army, but only for a moment. Something was about
+to be done; but if I could have controlled events, I would not have
+known what to choose. One thing, however, began to loom clear through
+the dim future: if we were working to get to Meade's rear, that general
+was in far greater danger than he had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at
+Manassas Junction, between Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac
+would yield from starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there
+was no army to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.
+
+The night brought no movement.
+
+
+
+XXXVI
+
+THE ALPHABET
+
+                    "I stoop not to despair;
+     For I have battled with mine agony,
+     And made me wings wherewith to overfly
+     The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.
+
+On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I recognized the
+place; I had straggled through it on the road to Gettysburg. Again we
+went into bivouac early.
+
+That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to any clew
+I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I wondered how I could
+make a step toward an end.
+
+To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said will was
+required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of thinking all
+names that I could recall. My list was limited. Naturally my mind went
+over the roll of Company H, which, from having heard so often, I knew by
+heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so on; the work brought an idea. I
+remembered hearing some one say that a forgotten name might be recovered
+with the systematic use of the alphabet. I wondered why I had not
+thought at once of this. I felt a great sense of relief. I now had a
+purpose and a plan.
+
+At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could get was
+Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built upon the
+letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might be one of
+these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to rely upon except
+the hope that the real name, when found, would kindle at its touch a
+spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were exhausted--nothing.
+
+Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in
+nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether the
+sound awoke any response in my brain.
+
+I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I stored it
+up for future examination.
+
+Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I separated into
+two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and hard. This
+examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of hard C.
+
+H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.
+
+The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.
+
+L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.
+
+At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve, but not
+to give it equal rank with the others.
+
+Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u, and
+rejected all.
+
+The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.
+
+In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C hard, G
+hard, and K, with P a possibility.
+
+It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active, though
+I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it had been for
+days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on track of discovery.
+It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to get where I
+was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would likely take me
+hours more to advance a single step farther.
+
+A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very unusual
+name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen written, except as
+the name of this Doctor? This thought included other thoughts--one was
+the idea of a written name. I had been following but one line of
+approach, while there were two,--sound and form. I had not considered
+the written approach, but now I saw the importance of that process.
+Another thought was, whether it would help me for the name to be not
+merely unusual, but entirely unknown. I could not decide this question.
+I saw reasons for and against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except
+as applied to the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to
+roll names and names through my brain for years without result, if my
+brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an old
+man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted another,
+wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in hunting a word
+impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and put it to sleep.
+The uncommon name would cause me to reject all common names, perhaps at
+first presentation; my attention would be concentrated on peculiar
+sounds and forms. If my mind were now in condition to respond to the
+name, I might get it very soon.
+
+In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my objective, for
+I sank to sleep.
+
+At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the night's
+work. I wrote as follows:--
+
+C G K.... P
+
+Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that impressed me.
+I had C without any following.
+
+For G, I had _Gayle_, or _Gail_.
+
+For K, _Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight_.
+
+For P, only _Payne_.
+
+We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them without
+looking at what I had written.
+
+All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare
+initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.
+
+Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What was its
+peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would leave it. It
+did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted to it simply
+because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed up large in my
+mind and took enormous precedence.
+
+The name Payne was given up.
+
+But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to Payne. If K
+was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took me an hour to
+find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined to find it. It was
+simple, after all--the attraction lay in the letters a-y-n-e. At once I
+added to my K's the name Kayne, although the name evoked no interest.
+Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane was much easier and added it to
+my list, wondering why I had not thought of it before.
+
+The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight? The
+peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not drop the
+name, but tried to sound each of my others as two syllables.
+
+"What's that you say, Jones?"
+
+It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.
+
+I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me, Ka-mes,
+Kay-me."
+
+The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through woods or
+fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground, but saw it not.
+My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds through my
+ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants and one or
+two vowels.
+
+Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain Haskell's
+quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's name? I soon had
+it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam and Kiyam to my list. We
+marched on.
+
+Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h. I felt
+greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which had the K
+sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more in Knight?
+Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and the vowel I had
+also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way toward Ki, or toward
+K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.
+
+Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le, Ki-me,
+Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me, involuntarily holding
+to the unfamiliar sound.
+
+For a long time I worked without any result, and I became greatly
+puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I repeated
+over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor Ka-mes, Doctor
+Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes, Doctor Ki-yam." The
+last name sounded nearly right.
+
+The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face with
+bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words again, and
+at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit the face to the
+name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor Ka-me, they do not fit;
+Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me,
+Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they dominated all
+other words. The strangeness of the name did not affect me; in fact, the
+name was neither strange nor familiar; and just because the name did not
+sound strange, I took courage and hope. I reasoned that such a name
+ought to sound strange, and that it did not was cheering. I was on the
+brink of something, I knew not what.
+
+We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps marched by on
+a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that we were ordered
+to bivouac.
+
+My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so great
+importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered that this
+one name was the clew to my past life, and was the beginning of my
+future life; the recovery of one name would mean all recovery; I had
+resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this name, and I felt convinced
+that I should find it, and soon. What was to result I would risk; months
+before, I had not had the courage to wish to know my past, but now I
+would welcome change. I was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life;
+I would hazard the venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former
+condition should prove unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance
+to escape it--by being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be
+much worse than my present state.
+
+That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown forward a
+mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but one opinion
+among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army was flanking
+Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had been sent to Georgia
+with his corps. But why were we making such short marches? Several
+reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said we were getting as near as
+possible first, "taking a running start," to use his words. Youmans
+thought that General Lee wanted to save the army from straggling before
+the day of battle. Mackay thought Ewell would make the long march, and
+that we must wait on his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as
+Ewell had marched to our right.
+
+Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around Meade. We
+were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of it, from which
+Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun, while Meade now occupied
+Pope's former position. Could General Lee hope that Meade, with Pope's
+example staring him in the face, would allow himself to be entrapped?
+This question was discussed by the men.
+
+Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley last
+June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing Meade
+would recall.
+
+Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far advanced for
+Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson thought that General
+Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try to effect the very thing
+he had once succeeded in; besides, he said, every general must provide
+against every contingency, but it is clearly impossible to do so, and in
+neglecting some things for others, he runs his risks and takes his
+chances. Meade would not retreat until he knew that the flank movement
+was in progress; to retreat in fear of having to retreat would be
+nonsense; and if Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all
+up with him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his
+tactics and follow the retreat.
+
+On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at least in our
+front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we overlooked the river,
+and every man was a vedette, as it were. I lay in the line, trying to
+take the first step leading to the reconstruction of my life.
+
+"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."
+
+The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been abandoned,
+I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker power to hold me
+had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was imperfect. It did not
+seem wrong, but deficient rather; something was needed to complete
+it--what was that something?
+
+Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I wondered why.
+I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam was a poet? No;
+that could be no reason. Was it because he was a Persian? I could see no
+connection there. Was it because of the peculiar spelling of the name?
+It might be. What was the peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must
+think again of the written or printed name, not the sound only of
+the word.
+
+Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.
+
+I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought "Khay-me."
+
+By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and
+simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my brain.
+It would not do.
+
+Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not discouraged. I
+thought of no other name. Everything else had been definitely abandoned.
+Without reasoning upon it I knew that the name was right, and I knew,
+as if by intuition, how to proceed to a conclusion. I tried again, and
+knew beforehand that I should succeed.
+
+This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I did three
+things.
+
+There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top of the
+hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote "Doctor Khayme."
+I held the words before my eyes; I called the face of my dream before
+me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."
+
+
+
+XXXVII
+
+A DOUBLE
+
+     "One of these men is genius to the other;
+      And so of these: which is the natural man,
+      And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"
+                                           --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his
+daughter. I know her name--Lydia.
+
+Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of
+sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face of my
+fancy, but for the look of care.
+
+Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on the bank
+of the river.
+
+For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath. Now I felt
+that I must move or die.
+
+I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar
+physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned on
+my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my chin
+resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing nothing.
+
+Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of paradise.
+
+The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare hill; a
+shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands violently, and
+fell. The picture vanished.
+
+Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had fallen--was
+making his painful way alone in the night; he went on and on until he
+was swallowed by the darkness.
+
+Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in blue
+uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither officer
+nor man; both were in blue.
+
+Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I saw him
+standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him sick in a
+tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.
+
+Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue helping
+another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide themselves in a
+secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is the place I saw at
+Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man breaks his gun. The
+two go away.
+
+So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had belonged
+to this man.
+
+Who was this man?
+
+A soldier, evidently.
+
+What was his name?
+
+I did not know.
+
+Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?
+
+He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate spy.
+
+My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should recover
+the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would be the key
+to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be suddenly complete and
+continuous, but now I found the Doctor supplanted by a strange man whose
+name even I did not know, and who acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming
+to be a Confederate and at other times a Federal. I must exert my will
+and get rid of this man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have
+eaten nothing; I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever.
+I will get rid of him.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an ambulance,
+but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the picture, and
+tried again.
+
+Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden in a
+straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.
+
+Who is Willis?
+
+I do not know; only Willis.
+
+It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the Doctor
+without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's face flits
+by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.
+
+I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain an
+instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man persisted,
+and contrary to my will.
+
+My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there no Dr.
+Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face was again
+before me. That look of care--or worse than care, anxiety--could it be
+mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my fancy, but the look was its
+own. I recognized the face, but the expression was not due to my thought
+or to my error; it was independent of me.
+
+I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the Man!
+Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who sometimes
+wore blue and sometimes gray.
+
+Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was nothing
+in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of the moon at
+Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of my Captain,
+lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the enemy. My brain
+was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I doubted all reality. My
+fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves were all unstrung. I felt
+upon the boundary edge of heaven and hell. I knew enough to craze me
+should I learn no more. I watched the moon; it took the form of Lydia's
+face; a tree became the strange Man who would not forsake me.
+
+Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was mysterious.
+His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The others are real.
+I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and her name. I know Willis
+and his name. The Man's face and name are unknown; yet does he come
+unbidden and uppermost and always.
+
+I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
+retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
+Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
+Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
+Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
+Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a new
+thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at Gaines's
+Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.
+
+But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
+Manassas.
+
+But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first Manassas.
+
+Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped Willis. Why
+should he help Willis?
+
+Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
+soldier?
+
+I know his face and I know his name.
+
+I must hunt this thought down.
+
+Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of
+experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and his
+companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.
+
+But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from the
+spot? He was not captured.
+
+Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these two men.
+I must try to remember whether I saw what became of them.
+
+Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange man; he
+binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there! again a
+thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that before--with
+the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I could see that Willis
+was a sergeant; but how could I know that his name was Willis? Possibly
+I heard the strange man call him Jake--So! again it comes. I have the
+full name.
+
+But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to rise,
+and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch, and helps
+him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis drops the gun, for
+it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless. Then the strange man
+breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them moving slowly through the
+woods--but strange! they are no farther from me than before. I must have
+really followed them that day. They go on and get into the creek, and
+climb with difficulty the farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they
+reach a stubble field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels
+by one of the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down;
+then he speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he
+tells Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he
+does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for
+himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless
+you, Jones."
+
+And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.
+
+I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I must not
+now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.
+
+Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained by Jones,
+and I go with Jones even though I want to see what becomes of Willis.
+
+It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I feel that
+he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear sounds of rattling
+harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops and looks at the wagon; I
+see a man get out of the wagon--a very small man; the man says, "Is
+that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who this man is, and though I wonder I
+yet know that he is Dr. Khayme. Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor
+calls for brandy. Then the Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in
+my head and all vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of
+the Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.
+
+It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I could
+not doubt it.
+
+The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my place
+near the right of Company H.
+
+What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground, and
+that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after that?
+
+My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him and
+failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see him, and
+failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer in regard to
+Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones and in regard to
+myself also. I had got to the end of that experience, for I had no doubt
+that it was an experience of my own in some incomprehensible connection
+with Jones.
+
+Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see Jones and
+Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man also. Who is
+he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an ambulance, and all
+go away into darkness.
+
+My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had not
+abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither? Both? If
+both, which followed the other? I did not know.
+
+I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I fail. I
+had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure; I try
+again, and fail.
+
+Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot remember
+Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.
+
+Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the corporal
+in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only Jones I can
+recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different Jones; who was
+he? I must try to get him.
+
+The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the Doctor
+in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting ready for what?
+A package has been made. They are talking. The lights are put out and I
+lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones. In the dim light of the stars
+he comes out of the tent; a man on a horse is near; he holds another
+horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts, and the two ride away. And I hear
+Jones ask, "What is your name?" and I hear the man reply, "Jones."
+
+What folly!
+
+But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then another
+picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in the night:
+Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate horse as black as
+jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men, and the other Jones is
+there, too, and I see that he is joyful that Jones is caught. What utter
+folly! Is everybody to be named Jones? I have followed one Jones and
+have found two--possibly three. Who is the true Jones? Is there any true
+Jones? Has my fevered brain but conjured up a picture, or series of
+pictures, of events that never had existence? Why should one Jones be
+glad that another Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.
+
+Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had resulted in
+an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I gave myself up to
+mere revery.
+
+Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was also an
+end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr. Khayme, and of
+Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with possibly another Jones;
+with these names I ought to work out the whole enigma. I knew that Jones
+was the man who had broken his gun; the man who had helped Willis; the
+man who had been under the bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another
+thought,--the man who had been wounded there.
+
+I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more relations found
+would untangle everything. But how to find more? I must think. Yet
+thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could quit thinking, the
+thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit thinking? I remembered that
+I had received lessons upon the power of the will from Captain Haskell
+and ... from ... somebody ... who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.
+
+And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any, could
+there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused way I groped
+in the tangle of this question until I became completely lost again,
+having gained, however, the knowledge that Dr. Khayme had taught me
+concerning the will.
+
+I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the effort was
+vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the Doctor's dark
+face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a pipe--yes, a pipe, with its
+carven bowl showing a strange head; and I could recall more easily the
+Captain's long jaw, and triangle of a face, and even the slight lisp
+with which he spoke. What relationship had these two men? If Captain
+Haskell had ever known Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of
+the Doctor? I had known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where
+had I known the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my
+teacher. Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor
+associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and with
+Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an
+ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.
+
+Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate
+hospital.
+
+The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and the
+Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a possibility? My
+brain became clearer. My people must be in Charleston. The Captain may
+have known the Doctor in Charleston. They may have been friends. They
+talked of similar subjects--at least, they had views which affected me
+similarly. Yet that might mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.
+
+Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant these
+two men seemed to me to be at once identical and separate--even
+opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I remembered that the
+Captain once had said he was not sure that there was such a condition as
+absolute individuality. Preposterous or not, the thought, gone at once,
+had brought another in its train: I had never seen these two men
+together, and I had never seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the
+Doctor was, there was Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering
+notion of double and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was
+seemingly a Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he
+was a Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas
+had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun rather
+than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had helped a
+wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been part of a very
+deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully that he would be
+received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather to act in entire
+conformity with his supposed character. He must always act the complete
+Federal when with federals, so that no suspicion should attach to him.
+No doubt he had remained in the Federal camp until he had got the
+information needed, and had returned to the Confederates before he had
+been wounded by the shell.
+
+So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every effort
+I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That Jones was a
+Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd notion of a double had
+drawn me away from the right track; he was a double, it is true, but
+only on the surface; he was a Confederate acting the Federal.
+
+Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary about
+him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his capacity to
+interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he changes clothing. No,
+not his only one; he has another: he is absolutely ubiquitous.
+
+That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear? Just
+because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is clear. My
+head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may be delusion. Dr.
+Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but as to this Jones, or
+these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief. Jones remains. Wherever I
+turn I find him. He will not down. If he is a fact, he must be the most
+important person related to my life. More so than Lydia?
+
+What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none the
+less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all, that my name
+is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought shows me that this
+supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones, and the spy was my
+brother, I should have heard of him long ago.
+
+Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself? The
+Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and I had
+never heard of one of them.
+
+But if he had been my brother, _he_ would have hunted _me_, and would
+have found me! That was it.
+
+This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been killed!
+
+He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ... that is
+why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him since. Why had I
+at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I see that I assumed too
+much--or too little. I had seen him under the fire, and had seen him no
+more; that was all.
+
+Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been killed.
+
+It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of events, does
+not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the ground again, just
+as the events succeeded, from antecedent to consequent, rather than
+backward. It is more difficult--leaving memory aside--to take present
+conditions and discover the unknown which evolved these conditions, than
+to take present conditions and show what will be evolved from them. Of
+course, if we already know what preceded these conditions, there is no
+discovery to be claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our
+knowledge of the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere
+development naturally augured from the present. An incapable general
+means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable general.
+
+Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill where I had
+seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had only proved the
+truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a considerable distance,
+and from the past had followed Jones forward as well as my imperfect
+powers permitted; again I had jumped back and had followed him until he
+met the Doctor in the night. The episode of lifting Willis into the
+ambulance seemed a separate event of very short duration. My mind had
+unconsciously appreciated the difficulty of working backward, and had in
+reality endeavoured to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing
+Jones into several periods and following the events of each period in
+order of time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it,
+became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to
+suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural process.
+
+First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in blue,
+helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him when he
+reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor come to
+Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third, Jones--alone
+and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell bursting over him,
+and I lose him.
+
+I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred, and
+none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been lost to me,
+if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I wanted to find
+connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the Jones at the secret
+place in the woods with the Jones that I had seen fall, and I set my
+memory to work, but obtained nothing. The scene on the hill seemed
+unrelated to that of Willis.
+
+There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a forest at
+night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make nothing out of
+it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred before the time of
+Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of Jonas in a tent, and of
+an officer in blue showing him a map, and I could also remember that I
+had seen or heard that Jones had been on a shore with the Doctor and
+Lydia. These events had no connection. Between Jones in blue and Jones
+in gray there were gaps which I could not cross.
+
+Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events with the
+more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the past, hunting for
+the slightest clews.
+
+And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim past,
+that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the Doctor
+attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I strained my head
+to recall this scene more clearly. In this case Jones had no uniform;
+neither did the others wear uniform. And now a new doubt--why in a tent
+and without uniform?
+
+For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that the
+Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so early a
+period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or felt that Doctor
+Khayme's relationship with me was so near that, had he been a
+Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long since.
+
+Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought which
+followed.
+
+But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I could not
+have told, but I knew it.
+
+Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like intuition in my
+knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not be wounded rather than
+sick? How could I know that this scene in the tent was not the sequence
+of the scene of the bursting shell? But I say that I knew Jones was
+sick, and not wounded. How could I know this?
+
+And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I knew
+that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.
+
+I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I reached
+the conclusion that only one of these events was an instance of
+knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that Jones was in gray
+in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had _he_ told me so? I knew that
+he had been sick. Had he told me so? In any case, I knew these things
+and knew that my knowledge was simple. But how could I know that Jones
+was now alive?
+
+Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make was, that I
+felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to myself for this
+knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than intuition. I felt
+that it was experience, not the experience of sight or hearing or any of
+the senses, but experience nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to
+call it so in these days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was
+none the less valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did
+not doubt. There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is
+alive, seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor
+touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will he
+have the life of expression and intelligence in his face. Communication
+between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or direction. But I
+saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature; the change of feature
+is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of the world affects every
+individual mind ... where did I hear such an idea advanced? From whom?
+Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.
+
+I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many pages, of
+the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.
+
+I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ... why, then,
+was he in the army?
+
+Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as a
+surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the tent
+itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore
+no uniform.
+
+But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a surgeon?
+And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance made the army
+almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers, assisted by the
+Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon, although he wears no
+uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on occasions; when at work at his
+calling he puts it off.
+
+I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything anew--in
+a new light.
+
+I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not found me?
+Again comes that thought of double personality, and this time it will
+not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's utterances upon the
+universal mind, and upon the power of the will. I can remember that I
+had almost feared him ... and suddenly I remember that Willis had said
+that the Doctor could read the mind ... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?
+
+My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march had come,
+I could not have moved.
+
+What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had simply
+remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could tell what
+another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had spoken the
+words to ME!
+
+Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he had my
+mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be? But I
+remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to mind
+extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a
+double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with mind
+is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am Jones. No
+wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder that I knew he
+wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was not dead.
+
+Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I am Jones
+Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.
+
+
+
+XXXVIII
+
+IDENTITY
+
+     "Which, is the side that I must go withal?
+     I am with both: each army hath a hand;
+     And, in their rage, I having hold of both,
+     They whirl asunder, and dismember me."
+
+    --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of blue
+soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the rout. How
+vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them then--of Dr.
+Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to desert even, in
+order to accomplish his designs.
+
+Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a mist. But
+what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only pretended to
+desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember what Jones Berwick
+felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he found pretended desertion
+necessary?
+
+Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter he
+could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now knew that I
+was once in that army.
+
+But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?
+
+Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I could not
+have easily gone North to enlist.
+
+But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier, so that
+there would have been no need of desertion?
+
+No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been asked my
+regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment. I remember
+the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when Berwick Jones
+joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside the Confederate
+uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in civilian's clothing, merely
+because I could not bear to have questions asked. So, when I had played
+the Federal, if I had presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not
+have answered questions, and the requirement to report to my company
+would have destroyed my whole plan.
+
+Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining civilian's
+clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended recruit, just as I
+had joined Company H later. This was less unlikely when coupled with the
+thought that possibly my first experience in this course had had some
+hidden influence on my second.
+
+But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a Confederate?
+The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of forgetting must be the
+reason. When, as Jones Berwick the Confederate, I became Berwick Jones
+the Federal, there must have come upon my mind a phase of oblivion
+similar to that which clouded it when I became a Confederate again.
+
+Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice just at
+the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and profound....
+What was Dr. Khayme in all this?
+
+And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I had
+carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must always have
+been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever get to be Berwick
+Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which was I at first? Had I
+ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt everything.
+
+My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first Manassas, or
+Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the Doctor; the return
+to Willis; the shore and the battle of the ships; the _Merrimac_; the
+line of the Warwick; the lines at Hanover; the night tramp in the
+swamp; crossing the hill; a blank, which my double memory knew how to
+fill, and the subsequent events of my second service in our army.
+Nothing important seemed lacking since the battle of Bull Run. Before
+that battle everything was confusion. My home was still unknown. The
+friends of my former life, so far as I could remember, had been
+Federals, if Dr. Khayme and Lydia could be called Federals.
+
+Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with that
+city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled: first, my
+life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my life at home
+and in the Confederate army before I pretended to desert to
+the Federals.
+
+I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity! Let reason
+work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can it mean any more
+than that you were known at one time as Jones Berwick and at another
+time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to think that you are two persons
+at once. Have you imagined that now, while you are a Confederate again,
+there is also a you in the Yankee army? When your connection with the
+Confederates was interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones
+Berwick; the J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you
+became a Confederate again, your name was reversed because of
+that diary!
+
+I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every word of
+the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.
+
+And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the little
+book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case I should be
+taken? Yes.
+
+But--I was going to become a Confederate again!
+
+Did the Doctor know that?
+
+Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the words he
+dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes; he helped me
+on with the Confederate uniform!
+
+Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was
+required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a Confederate?
+
+Could I not at once have named my original company and its officers? Why
+this child's play of the diary?
+
+I studied hard this phase of the tangle.
+
+Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the first
+party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable. I might
+have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and to
+detention--but for something on my person to give substance to my
+statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.
+
+But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say to a
+party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and especially at the
+thought which had caused it. I had actually forgotten, for the moment,
+that I was a real Confederate, and had begun to imagine that I had been
+a Federal trying to get into the Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor
+was helping to do so.
+
+But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a Confederate. If
+so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp? He, too, a spy? He and
+I were allies? Possibly.
+
+But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not think
+me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me to play the
+spy in the interest of the Federals.
+
+What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in the Union
+army.
+
+But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he would not
+fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God! what was it that
+he argued? And what in me was he arguing against? He had contended--I
+remember it--that the war would destroy slavery, and that was what he
+wanted to be done; and I had contended that the Union was pledged by the
+Constitution to protect slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation
+of the Union.
+
+A cold shudder came through me.
+
+In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my plan. I
+had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought gave little
+pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought him too wise to
+allow himself to be deceived.
+
+Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a course
+which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I became
+bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a tangle. I
+have not got to the bottom of this thing.
+
+Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a Confederate and
+my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy that I have deceived him
+with all his wisdom and all my reluctance to deceive him. Which of these
+two things is true?
+
+Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in some
+way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only that it was
+the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's army. I remember
+now the Doctor's telling me about movements that McClellan would make.
+These things happened in McClellan's army while I was a spy. To suppose
+that the Doctor was my ally comports with his giving me information of
+McClellan's movements. He was a surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate;
+he certainly was from Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But,
+on the other hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery,
+and his hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he
+could not have been a Confederate.
+
+Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I was in
+McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew that I was a
+spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy. How, then, could
+I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought me a Union spy, and
+that I was to go into the Confederate lines to get information, when the
+opposite was true.
+
+Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The Doctor was
+not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know that I was a
+Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.
+
+Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the second must
+be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that even Dr. Khayme
+had been deceived.
+
+Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my business
+was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I was open and
+frank. The second proposition, while possible, I reject, at least for
+a time.
+
+Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true? How
+absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is nothing false
+absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a question thoroughly, be
+not content with looking at two sides of it; look at three."
+
+Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a third
+alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a Confederate, is
+untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is untrue: what is a
+possible third?
+
+I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put myself in
+the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery notions and his
+invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he thinks, into the
+Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?
+
+Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show but that
+he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not do. Where is
+the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find it.
+
+What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I was a
+Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was opposed to
+war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in regard to the
+success of the Federals? No; he wished for the extinction of slavery.
+Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but he argued for a modification
+of slavery, and for gradual emancipation.
+
+Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would do
+violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for me to go
+back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or fewer does not
+count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of doing me good, knowing
+that he was doing the Union cause no harm.
+
+But would he not know that the information I should take to the
+Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously injuring
+his cause.
+
+Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that could not
+be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for me was too
+sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither would I
+have yielded.
+
+And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these suppositions. For
+the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and at the same time help
+me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on his part. I am forced to
+admit that he knew my true character and that I knew he knew me.
+
+But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!
+
+An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair, as he
+attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That look of
+relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that look of
+astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment preceding death,
+he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a Confederate!
+
+Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the Doctor
+have known me as such?
+
+Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than Willis
+ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides, I feel that
+Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know that Willis did not
+know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped me return to the
+Confederates.
+
+... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a rebel, he
+had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why? Why?
+
+I fear for my reason....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try another line.
+So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates the information
+gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not. My wound had caused
+me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to read the future? If he
+had such power, his course in regard to me could be understood. He knew
+that I should become unable to reveal anything to injure his cause,
+therefore he was willing to help me return to the Confederate army.
+There, at last, was a third alternative, but a bare possibility only.
+Was it even that?
+
+To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight, knew
+what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could read the
+future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could control the
+future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What are the limits? Had
+not the Doctor spoken to me of this very subject? He had reasoned
+against there being limits to the power of the mind ... notwithstanding
+my resistance to the thought I still think it; I am still thinking of
+the possibility that the Doctor controlled me, and caused me to lose the
+past in order that thus he might not be accessory to a betrayal of his
+own cause.
+
+This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how can I
+place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if there is a
+man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr. Khayme.
+
+But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing for me to
+suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I should endure
+mortification--and be without friends--and long hopeless of all
+good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not have been better for
+me to remain in the Union army? I could not see any reason for his
+subjecting me to so bitter an experience--but wait--did he not contend
+that every human being must go through an infinity of experience? That
+being true--or true to his thought--he might be just in causing me to
+endure what I have endured.
+
+Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run, seems clear
+if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has such superhuman
+power. Can I believe it?
+
+Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long till
+dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is stirring.
+My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the supernatural power
+of the Doctor.
+
+What would the possession of such power imply? To see future events and
+control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least. But the mind, is
+it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do marvellous things. That letter
+of my father's was a mystery.... What! My father!
+
+The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.
+
+I have a father? Who is my father?
+
+The thought brings me to my feet.
+
+I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front stretches
+the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises come from rear
+and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no doubt, for the
+march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there should I be also.
+Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was signed Jones Berwick,
+Sr. From what place was it written? I do not know. But I know that my
+father is the man in the tent where the Doctor attends me sick.
+
+I make a step forward.
+
+Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the line is
+moving back; we are ordered back!"
+
+I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.
+
+I understand.
+
+I am going to my father.
+
+A flood of recollection has poured upon me.
+
+I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.
+
+
+
+XXXIX
+
+REPARATION
+
+     "Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
+      And welcome home again discarded faith."
+                                       --SHAKESPEARE.
+
+My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of it would
+have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was made by its
+all coming.
+
+I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my father. The
+Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover my country.
+
+At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to my name
+distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my duty to
+battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger and death. The
+glory of the Confederate victories would now bring me pain and not joy.
+Oh! the deepness of the woe!
+
+But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it complete. I
+must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous yet criminal--a
+past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a barbarous future. I
+should be with the Doctor; I should be myself, and always myself, for I
+knew that my mind should nevermore suffer a repetition of the mysterious
+affliction which had changed me. My malady had departed forever; and
+with this knowledge there had come upon the glimmering emotions of
+repressed passion the almost overpowering consciousness that there was a
+woman in the world.
+
+I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had gone; I
+would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going. I wept and
+laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was past and future. I
+was strong and well. With my healing had come a revolution of another
+kind--a physical change which I felt would make of me a different
+creature from the poor moody rebel in rags, or even the groping Yankee
+spy of the day and of the year before.
+
+How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted and true.
+No matter what should befall them, they would continue to be true and
+loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the blackest
+disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage and for
+fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may conquer them. Their
+soldierly honour will be maintained even when they go down in defeat, as
+they must; never will shame lay its touch upon their ways, no matter
+what their destiny. I honour them, more now since I know the might of
+their enemies; I love them; I am proud of their high deeds, but I am
+done with them. In my heart alone can I do them reverence. My hand must
+be against them, as it has been for them.
+
+Raetions? Rations! The Federals say _rations_! Why did I not follow that
+clew?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place to
+cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was lighting
+the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the well-known sounds of
+a moving army--an army which had been my pride and now must be my enemy.
+How often had I followed the red flag! How I had raised my voice in the
+tumult of the charge--mingling no dissentient note in the mighty concert
+of the fierce old rebel yell!
+
+What will they think of me? I know full well what they will think, and
+the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to beat. They will
+say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the Yankees; not at once will
+they say that, but in a week or two when hope of my return has been
+abandoned--and a few will say that Jones has lost his mind and has
+wandered off. The first--the unkind--will be right, and they will be
+wrong. The others--the generous--will be utterly wrong. I have not lost
+my mind; I have found it, and found it "for good." The report of my
+desertion will come to Adjutant Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will
+they tell? I hope not. Will they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I
+cannot hope it.
+
+Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones Berwick
+live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men live
+forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than death
+which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall never die. On
+through the ages! That bright star--almost the only one left in the
+graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it born!
+
+I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was up; I kept
+it on my right. What should I do and say when I should reach our men?
+Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to them quickly. The
+rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of infantry were seeking to
+fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or there would be a third Bull Run.
+
+But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid being
+captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will call for
+Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General Morell and to
+General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss of a day, half a
+day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to be falling back now.
+To retreat at once may save it--to delay means terrible disaster.
+
+I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do, to make
+the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy retreat of the
+army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its destruction, I shall be
+happy. I will even say that my service as a Confederate was a small
+price to pay ... what had the Doctor said? He had said that my infirmity
+was a power! He had said that he could imagine cases in which my
+peculiar affliction would give great opportunity for serving the
+country. What a mind that man has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he
+has had active part in what has befallen me.
+
+I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through wood and
+field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses and fields
+and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste, knowing or feeling
+that I shall find no help here. Here I shun nothing; here I seek
+nothing--beyond this region are the people I want. What can I say? what
+can I prove? This is the question that troubles me. If I say that I am a
+Union soldier, I must tell the whole truth, and that I cannot do;
+besides, it would not be believed. If I say I am a deserter, my
+declarations as to Lee's movement will not be taken without suspicion.
+What shall I do? If I could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal
+clothing; I might hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems
+impossible. I must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr.
+Khayme! But I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he
+is somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive? And
+Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long months!
+Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall find Lydia, but
+I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time; to seek the Doctor
+might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to the general
+headquarters.
+
+To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another. I hurry
+on. What do they mean by fighting down there?
+
+I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the fields or
+roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is bare. No smoke
+rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled; the roads are
+untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.
+
+I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints cover the
+road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout and weep for
+joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement. That is, if they
+go far enough west.
+
+Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does it
+mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that Lee is
+preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are only
+to deceive.
+
+On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road. Other
+cavalry may be coming or going.
+
+The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow it. I go
+straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the road beyond
+the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It looks like a man. It
+is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit I cock my rifle and hold
+it at the ready. I cannot see that he is armed. I go straight to him. He
+is lying on the ground, with his back toward me. He hears me. He rises
+to his feet. He is unarmed. He is greatly astonished, but is silent.
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I surrender," he says.
+
+"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body of your
+men."
+
+He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your game."
+
+He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the west, and
+goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to us?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then let me have the gun," he says.
+
+I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order to
+claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
+believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is not
+impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he wants to
+march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him back to the Union
+army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not give him the gun. But I
+will make him talk.
+
+"What do you want with the gun?"
+
+"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference," he says.
+
+He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and down
+hill, hardly changing direction.
+
+Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what made
+you quit?"
+
+"My mind changed," I say.
+
+He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
+wouldn't say that, if I was you."
+
+"Why not, since it is true?"
+
+"It will do you no good."
+
+"But why?"
+
+"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do as you
+please."
+
+He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the whole truth.
+
+I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them. Their
+leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done a good
+job. How did you happen to get him?"
+
+"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."
+
+"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have information
+of extreme importance to give him."
+
+"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if you
+please."
+
+"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must make a
+condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning slightly.
+
+"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send me to
+General Meade at once."
+
+"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."
+
+"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to count. If
+you object to it, however, I withdraw it."
+
+"Then, who are you?"
+
+"I decline to say."
+
+"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should like to
+know how I am to rely on what you tell."
+
+"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a horse, and
+send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me until I tell what
+I have to tell."
+
+"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and another
+for this man."
+
+Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You see, I
+am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served Thomas; now let
+him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"
+
+"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean your
+flank."
+
+"The devil you say! Infantry?"
+
+"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six divisions."
+
+"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me the
+truth?"
+
+"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
+countenance."
+
+"When did Ewell begin his march?"
+
+"I do not know."
+
+"When did Hill march?"
+
+"He began to move on the 8th."
+
+"Where was he before that date?"
+
+"In camp near Orange Court-House."
+
+"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"
+
+"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."
+
+"Which division is yours?"
+
+"Please withdraw that question."
+
+"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night of the
+8th?"
+
+"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."
+
+"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"
+
+"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."
+
+"Where on the 10th?"
+
+"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."
+
+"And where on the 11th?"
+
+"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a few miles
+from Jeffersonton."
+
+"And where was Ewell's corps?"
+
+"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed Hill's
+yesterday afternoon."
+
+"Going up?"
+
+"No, sir; it went toward our right."
+
+"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"
+
+"Three."
+
+"Who commands them?"
+
+"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."
+
+"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"
+
+"It began to move up the river at daybreak."
+
+"Is that all you have of importance?"
+
+"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger. General
+Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with Jackson's march last
+year around General Pope." I say this very earnestly, and continue: "You
+ought to know that I am telling you the truth. A man coming into your
+lines and ordering an unarmed man to take him to you, ought to be
+believed."
+
+"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
+impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
+life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
+nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of prepossessing. The
+homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than I am. The strain to
+which I have been subjected for days and weeks, and especially for the
+last forty-eight hours, must be telling fearfully upon me. Uncouth,
+dirty, ragged, starved, weak through fever and strong through unnatural
+excitement, there can be no wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He
+may suspect that such a creature is seeking the presence of General
+Meade in order to assassinate him.
+
+"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other weapons. Bind
+my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this horse's belly. All I
+ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I am not wretchedly
+mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch for me."
+
+"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
+gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for your
+life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."
+
+He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.
+
+"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling the
+truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived in some
+way. Good luck to you."
+
+He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.
+
+I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine, and his
+holsters were not empty.
+
+"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.
+
+We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are nearing the
+river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad trains, directly in
+front but far away.
+
+The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my horse's
+sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do not stop. I
+say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and storms, but
+keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound to my side, and
+I feel his hand on my collar.
+
+"Are you crazy?" he shouts.
+
+I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a suspicion
+may ruin my plan.
+
+After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the camps.
+We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.
+
+At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide, giving him
+the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard, before the
+general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers and orderlies.
+The aide approached the general, who turned and looked at me. The
+general held the note in his hand.
+
+"What is your name?" he asked."
+
+"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.
+
+"What brigade?"
+
+"McGowan's."
+
+"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"
+
+"South Carolina."
+
+"What division?"
+
+"Wilcox's."
+
+"How many brigades are in that division?"
+
+"Four, General."
+
+"Name them."
+
+"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."
+
+"From what states?"
+
+"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade is from
+Georgia."
+
+"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"
+
+"This morning, sir, before daylight"
+
+"You say that a movement was in progress?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"What?"
+
+"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."
+
+"Up what river?"
+
+"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."
+
+"You say the army? General Lee's army?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to Georgia."
+
+"Did you see the other troops?"
+
+"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."
+
+"Did you see both corps?"
+
+"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in the
+afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours passing."
+
+The officers standing about were attentive, even serious. General
+Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.
+
+"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"
+
+"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there are some
+officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if they
+were here."
+
+"Who are they?"
+
+"General Morell is one, sir."
+
+All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I saw one of
+them tap his forehead.
+
+"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.
+
+"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."
+
+"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without evasion.
+What are you to General Morell?"
+
+"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that he
+would know me and believe me."
+
+"What are you to General Grover?"
+
+"He knew me, General"
+
+"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now with this
+army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent witnesses."
+
+"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me out."
+
+"General Porter is no longer in this army."
+
+"Then General Butterfield."
+
+"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."
+
+I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling for Dr.
+Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise. What had become
+of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who by bare possibility
+might have heard of me through General Morell, was, as I knew very well,
+far from this army. Certainly the war had been hard on the general
+officers of this Army of the Potomac. I would risk one more name.
+
+"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."
+
+"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"
+
+"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."
+
+General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head slightly.
+
+"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going to ask
+you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to answer quickly
+and without many words. How do you happen to know that the colonel of
+the Eleventh Massachusetts is named Blaisdell?"
+
+I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade alone, I
+should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea again came that
+he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to answer quickly, so I
+said, "I had friends in that regiment, General."
+
+The officers had gathered around their commander as close as etiquette
+allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of them very
+serious--others with sneers."
+
+"Name one of your friends."
+
+"John Lawler, sir."
+
+"What company?"
+
+"Company D."
+
+An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.
+
+"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know General Grover
+and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did General Grover command?
+Where was it that you knew him?"
+
+"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
+information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
+would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
+Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"
+
+"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a look.
+
+"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.
+
+A second orderly was sent off.
+
+All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to question me.
+I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the general, and a
+plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor appeared.
+
+"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"
+
+"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the Doctor
+quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful self-control
+would not even now desert him.
+
+"How do you know they were still moving?"
+
+"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the movement,
+sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on his conduct
+depended my peace for the future. If he should betray me, I should
+henceforth be a living curiosity.
+
+"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.
+
+The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how to
+answer. I was silent.
+
+"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"
+
+"Start where, General?"
+
+"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was moving? If
+you intended to be of service to us, why did you delay?"
+
+Here was an opening.
+
+"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday, General;
+besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of the nature of
+General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could give the Doctor some
+signal before he should speak--before he should recognize me. I was
+determined to prevent his exposing me, no matter at what personal risk.
+
+"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.
+
+"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me, General. But
+that was only additional to the circumstances of position and direction
+of march."
+
+"The men? What do the men know of such things?"
+
+"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the country, from
+having marched over it many times. They were in the August campaign of
+last year; they said that the present movement could mean nothing except
+a repetition of General Jackson's flank march of last year."
+
+The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon me. The
+officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances one
+at another.
+
+"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"
+
+"I was in Jackson's corps, General."
+
+"Did you make the march under him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of last
+year?"
+
+"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General Jackson's corps
+at the very place where I left Hill's corps this morning. On August 25th
+last year General Jackson crossed the Hedgeman River on his flank march.
+Hill's corps this morning began to move toward the crossing of
+the river."
+
+"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"
+
+"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."
+
+"Do you know him when you see him?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"
+
+"Yes, sir--many times."
+
+"Have you seen General Ewell?"
+
+"I would not know General Ewell, sir."
+
+"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"
+
+"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."
+
+"When?"
+
+"Yesterday, General."
+
+"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"
+
+"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it took many
+hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different brigades told us
+they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it, General."
+
+The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were for the
+purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without change of
+substance.
+
+The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
+reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General Meade.
+Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.
+
+The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade, "General,
+I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to meet him, if
+but a few yards."
+
+The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.
+
+I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or no!"
+
+General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.
+
+The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.
+
+Intense gravity was all over him.
+
+General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Who is he?"
+
+The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and shook his
+head; "I obey orders, General," he said.
+
+"Then reply," said the general.
+
+"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose,
+however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head.
+Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a huddle.
+
+"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.
+
+"Do you vouch for him?"
+
+"Yes, General."
+
+"He brings information of great import, if true; there is immense danger
+in accepting it, if false."
+
+"I will answer for him with my life, General."
+
+"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And he will
+tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"
+
+"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."
+
+"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very
+reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.
+
+"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may confide in
+the general. You see, General, there is a private matter in which my
+friend here is greatly interested, and which he does not want
+everybody to hear."
+
+"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is bringing
+me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the general; "now
+speak up and convince me, and be quick."
+
+"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I am a
+regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."
+
+Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."
+
+"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so long to
+tell it?"
+
+He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending despatches
+like the woods afire.
+
+
+
+XL
+
+CONCLUSION
+
+     "And all that was death
+     Grows life, grows love,
+     Grows love."--BROWNING.
+
+The Doctor held my hand.
+
+Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub rose;
+clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and
+south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.
+
+But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were three
+corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick, Sykes, and
+Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the morning of this
+day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until these troops should
+succeed in recrossing to the north side of the river, a strong force
+must hold the bridges.
+
+Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this was the
+first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.
+
+Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and eastward on
+every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his eyes and sobs in
+his voice. I had never seen him thus.
+
+We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and the
+wagons ready to move.
+
+"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.
+
+He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not see; all
+its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain, remained
+there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and came back
+to me.
+
+"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.
+
+I got in.
+
+By my side was a woman ... weeping.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the horizon.
+In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P. Hill; in the
+south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.
+
+The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to the
+darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, there sat,
+apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, a group
+of three.
+
+One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at least a
+sage, at least a hero.
+
+One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.
+
+One was a common soldier.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Who Goes There?, by Blackwood Ketcham Benson
+
+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE? ***
+
+***** This file should be named 12229.txt or 12229.zip *****
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+        https://www.gutenberg.org/1/2/2/2/12229/
+
+Produced by Charlie Kirschner and the Online Distributed Proofreading
+Team from images provided by the Million Book Project.
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.pglaf.org.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at
+https://pglaf.org/fundraising.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://pglaf.org
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://pglaf.org
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit: https://pglaf.org/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year. For example:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/etext06
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+     https://www.gutenberg.org/GUTINDEX.ALL
+
+
diff --git a/old/12229.zip b/old/12229.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3de7272
--- /dev/null
+++ b/old/12229.zip