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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 *** |