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diff --git a/12229-h/12229-h.htm b/12229-h/12229-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..beeed0a --- /dev/null +++ b/12229-h/12229-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,15947 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<meta name="generator" content= +"HTML Tidy for Windows (vers 1st February 2004), see www.w3.org"> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content= +"text/html; charset=UTF-8"> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Robinson Crusoe, by Johann +Daniel DeFoe.</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + <!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size: 14pt; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; } + blockquote {text-align: justify; + margin-left: 15%; + margin-right: 15%;} + .ctr { TEXT-ALIGN: center } + IMG { + BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; + BORDER-TOP: 0px; + BORDER-LEFT: 0px; + BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; } + // --> +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***</div> + +<br> +<h1>WHO GOES THERE?</h1> +<br> +<h2>THE STORY OF A SPY</h2> +<h4>IN</h4> +<h2>THE CIVIL WAR</h2> +<br> +<br> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h3>B.K. BENSON</h3> +<br> +<h5>1900</h5> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<br> +<center><a href="#INTRODUCTION">INTRODUCTION.</a><br> +<a href="#I">I. THE ADVANCE.</a><br> +<a href="#II">II. A SHAMEFUL DAY.</a><br> +<a href="#III">III. I BREAK MY MUSKET.</a><br> +<a href="#IV">IV. A PERSONAGE.</a><br> +<a href="#V">V. WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP.</a><br> +<a href="#VI">VI. THE USES OF INFIRMITY.</a><br> +<a href="#VII">VII. A SECOND DISASTER.</a><br> +<a href="#VIII">VIII. THE TWO SOUTHS.</a><br> +<a href="#IX">IX. KILLING TIME.</a><br> +<a href="#X">X. THE LINE OF THE WARWICK.</a><br> +<a href="#XI">XI. FORT WILLIS.</a><br> +<a href="#XII">XII. MORE ACTIVE SERVICE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXIII">XIII. JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE.</a><br> +<a href="#XIV">XIV. OUT OF SORTS.</a><br> +<a href="#XV">XV. WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT.</a><br> +<a href="#XVI">XVI. BETWEEN THE LINES.</a><br> +<a href="#XVII">XVII. THE LINES OF HANOVER.</a><br> +<a href="#XVIII">XVIII. THE BATTLE OF HANOVER.</a><br> +<a href="#XIX">XIX. THE ACCURSED NIGHT.</a><br> +<a href="#XX">XX. THE MASK OF IGNORANCE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXI">XXI. ONE MORE CONFEDERATE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXII">XXII. COMPANY H.</a><br> +<a href="#XXIII">XXIII. A LESSON IN HISTORY.</a><br> +<a href="#XXIV">XXIV. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXV">XXV. IN THE GREAT BATTLE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXVI">XXVI. A BROKEN MUSKET.</a><br> +<a href="#XXVII">XXVII. CAPTAIN HASKELL.</a><br> +<a href="#XXVIII">XXVIII. BEYOND THE POTOMAC.</a><br> +<a href="#XXIX">XXIX. FOREBODINGS.</a><br> +<a href="#XXX">XXX. TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXI">XXXI. GLOOM.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXII">XXXII. NIGHT.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXIII">XXXIII. HELL.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXIV">XXXIV. FALLING WATERS.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXV">XXXV. AWAKENINGS.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXVI">XXXVI. THE ALPHABET.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVII. A DOUBLE.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXVIII">XXXVIII. IDENTITY.</a><br> +<a href="#XXXIX">XXXIX. REPARATION.</a><br> +<a href="#XL">XL. CONCLUSION.</a></center> +<br> +<br> +<h2>MAPS</h2> +<center><a href="#033.png">1. WHERE BERWICK BROKE HIS +MUSKET.</a><br> +<a href="#186.png">2. HANOVER COURT-HOUSE.</a><br> +<a href="#326.png">3. VIRGINIA.</a><br> +<a href="#367.png">4. WHERE JONES FOUND A BROKEN +MUSKET.</a></center> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="INTRODUCTION"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> +<center>"I'll note you in my book of +memory."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>From early childhood I had been subject to a peculiar malady. I +say malady for want of a better and truer word, for my condition +had never been one of physical or mental suffering. According to my +father's opinion, an attack of brain fever had caused me, when five +years old, to lose my memory for a time--not indeed my memory +entirely, but my ability to recall the events and the mental +impressions of a recent period. The physicians had agreed that the +trouble would pass away, but it had been repeated more than once. +At the age of ten, when occurred the first attack which I remember, +I was at school in my native New England village. One very cold day +I was running home after school, when my foot slipped on a frozen +pool. My head struck the ice, but I felt no great pain, and was +almost at once on my feet. I was bewildered with what I saw around +me. Seemingly I had just risen from my seat at the breakfast table +to find myself in the open air, in solitude, in clothing too heavy, +with hands and feet too large, and with a July world suddenly +changed to midwinter. As it happened, my father was near, and took +me home. When the physicians came, they asked me many questions +which I could not understand.</p> +<p>Next morning my father sat by my bed and questioned mo again. He +inquired about my studies, about my classmates, about my teacher, +about the school games. Many of his questions seemed strange to me, +and I answered them in such words that he soon knew there was an +interval of more than six months in my consciousness. He then tried +to learn whether there remained in my mind any effect of my studies +during the past term. The result was surprising. He found that as +to actual knowledge my mind retained the power developed by its +exercise,--without, however, holding all details of fact,--but +that, in everything not positive, my experience seemed to have been +utterly lost. I knew my multiplication table thoroughly; I had +acquired it in the interval now forgotten. I could write correctly, +and my ability to read was not lessened. But when questions +concerning historical events, either general or local, were asked, +my answers proved that I had lost everything that I had learned for +the six months past. I showed but little knowledge of new games on +the playground, and utter forgetfulness of the reasons for and +against the Mexican War which was now going on, and in which, on +the previous day, I had felt the eager interest of a healthy +boy.</p> +<p>Moreover my brain reproduced the most striking events of my last +period of normal memory with indistinct and inaccurate images, +while the time preceding that period was as nothing to me. My +little sister had died when I was six years old; I did not know +that she had ever lived; her name, even, was strange to me.</p> +<p>After a few days I was allowed to rise from bed, to which, in my +own opinion, there had never been necessity for keeping me. I was +not, however, permitted to go out of doors. The result of the +doctors' deliberations was a strict injunction upon my father to +take me to the South every winter, a decision due, perhaps, to the +fact that my father had landed interests in South Carolina. At any +rate, my father soon took me to Charleston, where I was again put +to school. Doubtless I was thus relieved of much annoyance, as my +new schoolmates received me without showing the curiosity which +would have irritated me in my own village.</p> +<p>More than five months passed before my memory entirely returned +to me. The change was gradual. One day, at the morning recess, a +group of boys were talking about the Mexican War. The Palmetto +regiment had distinguished itself in battle. I heard a big boy say, +"Yes, your Uncle Pierce is all right, and his regiment is the best +in the army." I felt a glow of pride at this praise of my +people--as I supposed it to be. More talk followed, however, in +which it became clear that the boys were not speaking of Franklin +Pierce and his New Hampshire men, and I was greatly puzzled.</p> +<p>A few days afterward the city was in mourning; Colonel Pierce M. +Butler, the brave commander of the South Carolina regiment, had +fallen on the field of Churubusco.</p> +<p>Now, I cannot explain, even to myself, what relation had been +disturbed by this event, but I know that from this time I began to +collect, vaguely at first, the incidents of my whole former life; +so that, when my father sent for me at the summer vacation, I had +entirely recovered my lost memory. I even knew everything that had +happened in the recent interval, so that my consciousness held an +uninterrupted chain of all past events of importance. And now I +realized with wonder one of the marvellous compensations of nature. +My brain reproduced form, size, colour--any quality of a material +thing seen in the hiatus, so vividly that the actual object seemed +present to my senses, while I could feel dimly, what I now know +more thoroughly, that my memory during the interval had operated +weakly, if at all, on matters speculative, so called--questions of +doubtful import, questions of a kind upon which there might well be +more than one opinion, being as nothing to my mind. Although I have +truly said that I cannot explain how it was that my mind began its +recovery, yet I cannot reason away the belief that the first step +was an act of sensitive pride--the realization that it made some +difference to me whether the New Hampshire regiment or the Palmetto +regiment acquired the greater glory.</p> +<p>My father continued to send me each winter to Charleston, and my +summers were spent at home. By the time I was fifteen he became +dissatisfied with my progress, and decided that I should return to +the South for the winter of 1853-4. and that if there should be no +recurrence of my mental peculiarity he would thereafter put me in +the hands of a private tutor who should prepare me for college.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>For fully five years I had had no lapse of memory and my health +was sound. At the school I took delight in athletic sports, and +gained a reputation among the Charleston boys for being an expert +especially in climbing. My studies, while not neglected, were, +nevertheless, considered by me as secondary matters; I suppose that +the anxiety shown by my father for my health influenced me +somewhat; moreover, I had a natural bent toward bodily rather than +mental exercise.</p> +<p>The feature most attractive to me in school work was the +debating class. As a sort of <i>ex-officio</i> president of this +club, was one of our tutors, whom none of the boys seemed greatly +to like. He was called Professor Khayme--pronounced Ki-me. +Sometimes the principal addressed him as Doctor. He certainly was a +very learned and intelligent man; for although the boys had him in +dislike, there were yet many evidences of the respect he commanded +from better judges than schoolboys. He seemed, at various times, of +different ages. He might be anywhere between thirty and fifty. He +was small of stature, being not more than five feet tall, and was +exceedingly quick and energetic in his movements, while his +countenance and attitude, no matter what was going on, expressed +always complete self-control, if not indifference. He was +dark--almost as dark as an Indian. His face was narrow, but the +breadth and height of his forehead were almost a deformity. He had +no beard, and yet I feel sure that he never used a razor. I rarely +saw him off duty without a peculiar black pipe in his mouth, which +he smoked in an unusual way, emitting the smoke at very long +intervals. It was a standing jest with my irreverent schoolmates +that "Old Ky" owed his fine, rich colour to smoking through his +skin. Ingram Hall said that the carved Hindoo idol which decorated +the professor's pipe was the very image of "Old Ky" himself.</p> +<p>Our debating class sometimes prepared oratorical displays to +which were admitted a favoured few of the general public. To my +dying day I shall remember one of these occasions. The debate, so +celebrated, between the great Carolinian Hayne and our own Webster +was the feature of the entertainment. Behind the curtain sat +Professor Khayme, prompter and general manager. A boy with mighty +lungs and violent gesticulation recited an abridgment of Hayne's +speech, beginning:--</p> +<br> +<blockquote>"If there be one State in the Union, Mr. President, and +I say it not in a boastful spirit, that may challenge comparison +with any other for a uniform, zealous, ardent, and uncalculating +devotion to the Union, that State is South Carolina."</blockquote> +<p>Great applause followed. These were times of sectional +compromise. I also applauded. We were under the falsely quieting +influence of Douglas's Kansas-Nebraska Bill. There was effort for +harmony between the sections. The majority of thinking people +considered true patriotism to concist in patience and charity each +to each. Mrs. Beecher Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin" had appeared, but +few Southerners had read it or would read it. I also applauded.</p> +<p>Professor Khayme now came forward on the rostrum, and announced +that the next part of the programme would be "'Webster's Reply to +Hayne,' to be recited"--and here the professor paused--"by Master +Jones Berwick."</p> +<p>I was thunderstruck. No intimation of any kind had been given me +that I was to be called on. I decided at once to refuse to attempt +an impossibility. As I rose to explain and to make excuses, the +boys all over the hall cried, "Berwick! Berwick!" and clapped +loudly. Then the professor said, in a low and musical voice,--and +his voice was by far his greatest apparent attraction,--that Master +Berwick had not been originally selected to recite, but that the +young orator chosen the duty had been called away unexpectedly, and +that it was well known that Master Berwick, being a compatriot of +the great Webster, and being not only thoroughly competent to +declaim the abridged form of the speech in question, but also in +politics thoroughly at one with the famous orator, could serve with +facility in the stead of the absentee, and would certainly sustain +the reputation of the club.</p> +<p>How I hated that man! Yet I could see, as I caught his eye, I +know not what of encouragement. I had often heard the speech +recited, but not recently, and I could not see my way through.</p> +<p>I stumbled somehow to the back of the curtain. The Doctor said +to me, in a tone I had never heard before. "Be brave, my boy: I +pledge you my word as a gentleman that you shall succeed. Come to +this light." Then he seemed to be brushing my hair back with a few +soft finger-touches, and I remembered no more until I found myself +on the rostrum listening to a perfect din of applause that covered +the close of my speech. If there were any fire-eaters in the +audience, they were Carolina aristocrats an knew how to be polite, +even to a fault.</p> +<p>I could not understand my success: I had vague inward +inclination that it was not mine alone. My identity seemed to have +departed for the time. I felt that some wonderful change had been +wrought in me, and, youngster though I was, I was amazed to think +what might be the possibilities of the mind.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>For some time after this incident I tried to avoid Doctor +Khayme, but as he had charge of our rhetoric and French, as well as +oratory, it was impossible that we should not meet. In class he was +reserved and confined himself strictly to his duties, never by tone +or look varying his prescribed relation to the class; yet, though +his outward gravity and seeming indifference, I sometimes felt that +he influenced me by a power which no other man exerted over me.</p> +<p>One afternoon, returning from school to my quarters, I had just +crossed Meeting Street when I felt a light hand on my shoulder, +and, turning, I saw Doctor Khayme.</p> +<p>"Allow me to walk with you?" he asked.</p> +<p>He did not wait for an answer, but continued at once: "I have +from your father a letter in relation to your health. He says that +he is uneasy about you."</p> +<p>"I was never better in my life, sir," said I; "he has no reason +to be worried."</p> +<p>"I shall be glad to be able to relieve his mind," said the +Doctor.</p> +<p>Now, I had wit enough to observe that the Doctor had not said "I +am glad," but "I shall be glad," and I asked, "Do <i>you</i> think +I am wrong in health?"</p> +<p>"Not seriously," he replied; "but I think it will be well for +you to see the letter, and if you will be so good as to accompany +me to my lodging, I will show it to you."</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme's "lodging" proved to be a small cottage on one of +the side streets. There was a miniature garden in front: vines +clambered over the porch and were trained so that they almost hid +the windows. An old woman, who seemed to be housekeeper, cook, and +everything that a general servant may be, opened to his knock.</p> +<p>"I never carry a key," said the Doctor, seemingly in response to +my thought.</p> +<p>I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The +windows looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front +of the grate, where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For +the rest, there was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old +bookcase in a corner seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes +in antique covers, A writing-table, littered and piled with papers, +was in the middle of the room, and there were a few easy-chairs, +into one of which the Doctor motioned me.</p> +<p>Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took + +down a pipe with a long stem, +and began to stuff the bowl with tobacco which I saw was very +black; while he was doing so, I recognized on the pipe the carven +image of an idol.</p> +<p>"Yes," he said; "I see no good in changing."</p> +<p>I did not say anything to this speech; I did not know what he +meant.</p> +<p>He went to his desk, took my father's letter from a drawer, and +handed it to me. I read:--</p> +<blockquote>"MY DEAR SIR: Pardon the liberty I take in writing to +you. My son, who is under your charge in part, causes me great +uneasiness. I need not say to you that he has a mind above the +average--you will have already discovered this; but I wish to say +that his mind has passed through strange experiences and that +possibly he must--though God forbid--go through more of such. A +friend of mine has convinced me that you can help my boy.<br> +<br> +Yours very truly, "JONES BERWICK, SR."</blockquote> +<p>When I had read this letter, it came upon me that it was +strange, especially in its abrupt ending. I looked at the Doctor +and offered the letter to him.</p> +<p>"No," said he; "keep it; put it in your pocket."</p> +<p>I did as he said, and waited. For a short time Dr. Khayme sat +with the amber mouthpiece of his pipe between his lips; his eyes +were turned from me.</p> +<p>He rose, and put his pipe back on the mantel; then turning +toward me, and yet standing, he looked upon me gravely, and said +very slowly, "I do not think it advisable to ask you to tell me +what the mental experiences are to which your father alludes; it +may be best that you should not speak of them; it may be best that +you should not think of them. I am sure that I can help you; I am +sure that your telling me your history could not cause me to help +you more."</p> +<p>I was silent. The voice of the man was grave, and low, and +sweet. I could see no expression in his face. His dark eyes seemed +fixed on me, but I felt that he was looking through me at something +beyond.</p> +<p>Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your +will. I can help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have +great will-power also, but you have not cultivated that power. This +is a critical time in your life. You are becoming a man. You must +use your will. I can help you by making you see that you <i>can</i> +use your will, and that the will is very powerful--that <i>your</i> +will is very powerful. He who has confidence in his own will-power +will exert it. I can help you to have confidence. But I cannot +exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I shall +give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little your +present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in +doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and +against to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty +in choosing for or against. You are just in that condition. You +have feared and mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are +leaving you, and curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not +bid you to make an effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to +determine now whether you will struggle against weakness or submit +to it; whether you will begin to use your sleeping will-power or +else continue to accept what comes."</p> +<p>I rose to my feet at once.</p> +<p>"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first +smile I had ever seen on his face.</p> +<p>"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually +learned more and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter +told me much, that I could never have guessed. She was a very +serious child, perhaps of eleven years, and not very attractive. In +fact, she was ugly, but her gravity seemed somehow to suit her so +well that I could by no means dislike her. Her father was very fond +of her; of an evening the three of us would sit in the west room; +the Doctor would smoke and read; I would read some special +matter--usually on philosophy--selected by my tutor; Lydia would +sit silently by, engaged in sewing or knitting, and absorbed +seemingly in her own imaginings. Lydia at one time said some words +which I could not exactly catch, and which made me doubt the +seeming poverty of her father, but I attributed her speech to the +natural pride of a child who thinks its father great in every way. +I was not greatly interested, moreover, in the domestic affairs of +the household, and never thought of asking for information that +seemed withheld. I learned from the child's talk, at odd times when +the Doctor would be absent from the room, that they were +foreigners,--a fact which. I had already taken for granted,--but I +was never made to know the land of their birth. It was certain that +Dr. Khayme could speak German and French, and I could frequently +see him reading in books printed in characters unknown to me. +Several times I have happened to come unexpectedly into the +presence of the father and daughter when they were conversing in a +tongue which I was sure I had never heard. The Doctor had no +companions. He was at home, or at school, or else on the way from +the one to the other. No visitor ever showed himself when I was at +the cottage. Lydia attended the convent school. I understood from +remarks dropped incidentally, as well as from seeing the books she +had, that her studies were the languages in the main, and I had +strong evidence that, young as she was, her proficiency in French +and German far exceeded my own acquirements.</p> +<p>By degrees I learned that the Doctor was deeply interested in +what we would call speculative philosophy. I say by degrees, for +the experience I am now writing down embraces the winters of five +or six years. Most of the books that composed his library were +abstruse treatises on metaphysics, philosophy, and religion. I +believe that in his collection could have been found the Bible of +every religious faith. Sometimes he would read aloud a passage in +the Bhagavadgita, of which he had a manuscript copy interleaved +with annotations in his own delicate handwriting.</p> +<p>He seldom spoke of the past, but he seemed strangely interested +in the political condition of every civilized nation. The future of +the human race was a subject to which he undoubtedly gave much +thought. I have heard him more than once declare, with emphasis, +that the outlook for the advancement of America was not auspicious. +In regard to the sectional discord in the United States, he showed +a strange unconcern. I knew that he believed it a matter of +indifference whether secession, of which we were beginning again to +hear some mutterings, was a constitutional right; but on the +question of slavery his interest was intense. He believed that +slavery could not endure, let secession be attempted or abandoned, +let secession fail or succeed.</p> +<p>In my vacations I spoke to my father of the profound man who had +interested himself in my mental welfare; my father approved the +intimacy. He did not know Dr. Khayme personally, but he had much +reason to believe him a worthy man. I had never said anything to my +father about the note he had written to the Doctor; for a long +time, in fact, the thought of doing so did not come to me, and when +it did come I decided that, since my father had not mentioned the +matter, it was not for me to do so; it was a peculiar note.</p> +<p>My father gave me to know that his former wish to abridge my +life in the South had given way to his fears, and that I was to +continue to spend my winters in Charleston. In after years I +learned that Dr. Khayme had not thought my condition exempt from +danger.</p> +<p>So had passed the winters and vacations until the fall of '57, +without recurrence of my trouble. I no longer feared a lapse; my +father and the physicians agreed that my migrations should cease, +and I entered college. I wrote Dr. Khayme a letter, in which I +expressed great regret on account of our separation, but I received +no reply.</p> +<p>On Christmas Day of this year, 1857, I was at home. Suddenly, +even without the least premonition or obvious cause, I suffered +lapse of memory. The period affected embraced, with remarkable +exactness, all the time that had elapsed since I had last seen Dr. +Khayme.</p> +<p>Early in January my father accompanied me to Charleston. He was +induced to take me there because I was conscious of nothing that +had happened since the last day I spent there, and he was, +moreover, very anxious to meet Dr. Khayme. We learned, on our +arrival in Charleston, however, that the Doctor and his daughter +had sailed for Liverpool early in September. My father and I +travelled in the South until November, 1858, when my memory was +completely restored. He then returned to Massachusetts, leaving me +in Carolina, and I did not return to the North until August, +1860.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The military enthusiasm of the North, aroused by the firing on +Sumter, was contagious; but for a time my father opposed my desire +to enter the army. Beyond the fears which every parent has, he +doubted the effect of military life upon my mental nature. Our +family physician, however, was upon my side, and contended, with +what good reason I did not know, that the active life of war would +be a benefit rather than a harm to me; so my father ceased to +oppose, and I enlisted.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>WHO GOES THERE?</h2> +<br> +<h2><a name="I"></a>I</h2> +<h3>THE ADVANCE</h3> +<center>"Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst +arm."--Shakespeare.</center> +<br> +<p>In the afternoon we broke camp and marched toward the west. It +was July 16, 1861.</p> +<p>The bands were playing "Carry me back to old Virginia."</p> +<p>I was in the Eleventh. Orders had been read, but little could be +understood by men in the ranks. Nothing was clear to me, in these +orders, except two things:--</p> +<p>First, to be surprised would be unpardonable.</p> +<p>Second, to fall back would be unpardonable.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>It was four o'clock. The road was ankle-deep in dust; the sun +burnt our faces as we marched toward the west. Up hill and down +hill, up hill and down hill, we marched for an hour, west and +southwest.</p> +<p>We halted; from each company men were detailed to fill canteens. +The city could no longer he seen.</p> +<p>Willis pointed to the north. Willis was a big, red-haired +sergeant--a favourite with the men.</p> +<p>I looked, and saw clouds of dust rising a mile or two away.</p> +<p>"Miles's division," says Willis.</p> +<p>"What is on our left?"</p> +<p>"Nothing," says Willis.</p> +<p>"How do you know?"</p> +<p>"We are the left," says Willis.</p> +<p>The sergeant had studied war a little; he had some infallible +views.</p> +<p>The sergeant-major, with his diamond stripes, and his short +sword saluting, spoke to a captain, who at once reported to the +colonel at the head of the regiment. The captain returned to his +post:--</p> +<p>"<i>Comp-a-ny</i>--B ... ATTENTION!" ...</p> +<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p> +<p>"LOAD!" ...</p> +<p>"<i>Shudda</i> ... HOP!" ...</p> +<p>"<i>R-i-i-i-i-ght</i> ... FACE!" ...</p> +<p>"<i>Fah</i>--<i>w-u-u-u-d</i> ... MOTCH!" ...</p> +<p>"<i>Fi--lef</i> ... MOTCH!"</p> +<p>Company B disappeared in the bushes on our left.</p> +<p>The water-detail returned; the regiment moved forward.</p> +<p>Passing over a rising ground, Willis pointed to the left. I +could see some black spots in a stubble-field.</p> +<p>"Company B; skirmishers," says Willis.</p> +<p>"Any rebels out that way?"</p> +<p>"Don't know. Right to be ready for 'em," says Willis.</p> +<p>Marching orders had been welcomed by the men, and the first few +miles had been marked by jollity; the jest repeated growing from +four to four; great shouts had risen, at seeing the dust made by +our columns advancing on parallel roads. The air was stagnant, the +sun directly in our faces. This little peaked infantry cap is a +damnable outrage. The straps across my shoulders seemed to cut my +flesh. Great drops rolled down my face. My canteen was soon dry. +The men were no longer erect as on dress parade. Each one bent +over--head down. The officers had no heavy muskets--no heavy +cartridge-boxes; they marched erect; the second lieutenant was +using his sword for a walking-cane. "Close up!" shouted the +sergeants. My heels were sore. The dust was stifling.</p> +<p>Another halt; a new detail for water.</p> +<p>The march continued--a stumbling, staggering march, in the +darkness. A hundred yards and a halt of a minute; a quarter of a +mile and a halt of half an hour; an exasperating march. At two +o'clock in the morning we were permitted to break ranks. I was too +tired to sleep. Where we were I knew not, and I know not--somewhere +in Fairfax County, Virginia. Willis, who was near me, lying on his +blanket, his cartridge-box for a pillow, said that we were the left +of McDowell's army; that the centre and right extended for miles; +that the general headquarters ought to be at Fairfax Court-House at +this moment, and that if Beauregard didn't look sharp he would wake +up some fine morning and find old Heintz in his rear.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Before the light we were aroused by the reveillé.</p> +<p>The moving and halting process was resumed, and was kept up for +many hours. We reached the railroad. Our company was sent forward +to relieve the pickets. We were in the woods, and within a hundred +yards of a feeble rivulet which, ran from west to east almost +parallel with our skirmish-line; nothing could be seen in front but +trees. Beyond the stream vedettes were posted on a ridge. The men +of the company were in position, but at ease. The division was half +a mile in our rear.</p> +<p>I was lying on my back at the root of a scrub-oak very like the +blackjacks of Georgia and the Carolinas. The tree caused me to +think of my many sojourns in the South. Willis was standing a few +yards away; he was in the act of lighting his pipe.</p> +<p>"What's that?" said he, dropping the match.</p> +<p>"What's what?" I asked.</p> +<p>"There! Don't you hear it? two--three--"</p> +<p>At the word "three" I heard distinctly, in the far northwest, a +low rumble. All the men were on their feet, silent, serious. Again +the distant cannon was heard.</p> +<p>About five o'clock in the afternoon the newspapers from +Washington were in our hands. In one of the papers a certain war +correspondent had outlined, or rather amplified, the plan of the +campaign. Basing his prediction, doubtless, upon the fact that he +knew something of the nature of the advance begun on the 16th, the +public was informed that Heintzelman's division would swing far to +the left until the rear of Beauregard's right flank was reached; at +the same time Miles and Hunter would seize Fairfax Court-House, and +threaten the enemy's centre and left, and would seriously attack +when Heintzelman should give the signal. Thus, rolled up from the +right, and engaged everywhere else, the enemy's defeat was +inevitable.</p> +<p>The papers were handed from one to another. Willis chuckled a +little when he saw his own view seconded, although, he was +beginning to be afraid that his plans were endangered.</p> +<p>"I told you that headquarters last night would be Fairfax +Court-House," said he; "but the firing we heard awhile ago means +that our troops have been delayed. Beauregard is awake."</p> +<p>Just at sunset I was sent forward to relieve a vedette. This was +my first experience of the kind. A sergeant accompanied me. We +readied a spot from which, through the trees, the sentinel could be +seen. He was facing us, instead of his front. The poor +fellow--Johnson, of our company--had, been on post for two mortal +hours, and was more concerned about the relief in his rear than +about the enemy that might not be in his front. The sergeant halted +within a few paces of the vedette, while I received instructions. I +was to ascertain from the sentinel any peculiarity of his post and +the general condition, existing in his front, and then, dismiss him +to the care of the sergeant. Johnson, could tell me nothing. He had +seen nothing; had heard nothing. He retired and I was alone.</p> +<p>The ground was somewhat elevated, but not sufficiently so to +enable one to see far in front. The vedette on either flank was +invisible. Night was falling. A few faint stars began to shine. A +thousand insects were cheeping; a thousand frogs in disjointed +concert welcomed the twilight. A gentle breeze swayed the branches +of the tree above me. Far away--to right or left, I know not--a +cow-bell tinkled. More stars came out. The wind died away.</p> +<p>I leaned against the tree, and peered into the darkness.</p> +<p>I wanted to be a good soldier. This day I had heard for the +first time the sound of hostile arms. I thought it would be but +natural to be nervous, and I found myself surprised when I decided +that I was not nervous. The cry of the lone screech-owl below me in +the swamp sounded but familiar and appropriate.</p> +<p>That we were to attack the enemy I well knew; a battle was +certain unless the enemy should retreat. My thoughts were full of +wars and battles. My present duty made me think, of Indians. I +wondered whether the rebels were well armed; I knew them; I knew +they would fight; I had lived among those misguided people.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="II"></a>II</h2> +<h3>A SHAMEFUL DAY</h3> +<center>'He tires betimes, that too fast spurs +betimes."--Shakespeare.</center> +<br> +<p>"<i>Fall in, men! Fall in Company D</i>!"</p> +<p>It was after two o'clock on the morning of July 21.</p> +<p>We had scarcely slept. For two or three days we had been in a +constant state of nervous expectancy. On the 18th the armed +reconnaissance on Bull Run had brought more than our generals had +counted on; we had heard the combat, but had taken no part in it. +Now the attack by the left had been abandoned.</p> +<p>The early part of the night of the 20th had been spent in trying +to get rations; at twelve o'clock we had two days' cooked rations +in our haversacks.</p> +<p>At about three o'clock the regiment turned south, into the road +for Centreville.</p> +<p>Willis said that we were to flank Beauregard's left; but nobody +took the trouble to assent or deny.</p> +<p>At Centreville there was a long and irksome halt; some lay +down--in the road--by the side of the road; some kept their feet +and moved about impatiently.</p> +<p>An army seemed to be passing in the road before our column, and +we must wait till the way was clear.</p> +<p>Little noise was made by the column marching on the road +intersecting ours. There was light laughter occasionally, but in +general the men were silent, going forward with rapid strides, or +standing stock still when brought to an abrupt halt whenever the +head of the column struck an obstacle.</p> +<p>I slept by snatches, awaking every time in a jump. Everybody was +nervous; even the officers could not hide their irritation.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Six o'clock came. The road was clear; the sun was nearly two +hours high.</p> +<p>Forward we went at a swinging gait down the road through the +dust. In ten minutes the sweat was rolling. No halt--no pause--no +command, except the everlasting "Close up! close up!"</p> +<p>Seven o'clock ... we turn to the right--northwest--a +neighbourhood road; ... fields; ... thickets; ... hills--not so +much dust now, but the sun getting hotter and hotter, and hotter +and hotter getting our thirst.</p> +<p>And Sunday morning ... Close up! close up!</p> +<p>Hear it? Along the southeast the horizon smokes and booms. Hear +it? The cannon roar in the valley below us.</p> +<p>Eight o'clock ... seven miles; nine o'clock ... ten miles; ... a +ford--we cross at double-quick; ... a bridge--we cross at +double-quick; the sound of cannon and small arms is close in our +front.</p> +<p>What is that confusion up on the hill? Smoke and dust and +fire.</p> +<p>See them? Four men with another--and that other, how the red +blood streams from his head!</p> +<p>What are they doing up on the hill? They are dying up on the +hill. Why should they die?</p> +<p>Ah, me! ah, me!</p> +<p>The Eleventh is formed at the foot of the hill; the commander +rides to its front:</p> +<p> +"<i>Colour</i>--<i>bearer</i>--<i>twelve</i>--<i>paces</i>--<i>to +the front</i>--MARCH! +<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>pre-sent</i>--ARMS!"</p> +<p>Then, with drawn sword, the colonel also salutes the flag--and +cries, DIES BY IT!</p> +<p>A mortal cold goes to the marrow of my bones; my comrades' faces +are white as death.</p> +<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--<i>fix</i>--BAYONETS!</p> +<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--<i>guide centre</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>Slowly we move up the hill; the line sways in curves; we halt +and re-form.</p> +<p>We lie down near the crest; shells burst over us; shells fly +with a dreadful hissing beyond us. I raise my head; right-oblique +is a battery; ... it is hidden in smoke; again I see the guns and +the horses and the men; they load and fire, load and fire.</p> +<p>A round shot strikes the ground in our front ... rises ... falls +... rises--goes over. We fire at the smoke.</p> +<p>Down flat on your face! Do you hear the singing in the air? +Thop! Johnson is hit; he runs to the rear, bending over until his +height is lost.</p> +<p>And now a roar like that of a waterfall; I look again ... the +battery has disappeared ... but the smoke rises and I see a long +line of men come out of the far-off woods and burst upon the guns. +The men of the battery flee, and the rebels swarm among the +captured pieces.</p> +<p>Now there are no more hissing shells or bullets singing. We rise +and look,--to our right a regiment is marching forward ... no +music, no drum ... marching forward, flag in the centre ... colonel +behind the centre, dismounted,--the men march on; quick time, +right-shoulder-shift; the fleeing cannoneers find safety behind the +regiment always marching on. The rebels at the battery are not in +line; some try to drag away the guns; swords flash in the hot sun; +... the rebels re-form; ... they lie down; ... and now the regiment +is at double-quick with trailed arms; ... the rebel line rises and +delivers its fire.</p> +<p>The smoke swallows everything.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Again I see. The rebel line has melted away. Our own men hold +the battery. They try to turn the guns once more on the fleeing +rebels; and now a rebel battery far to the left works fast upon the +regiment in disorder. A fresh rebel line comes from the woods and +rushes for the battery with the sound of many voices. Our men give +way ... they run--the officers are frantic; all run, all run ... +and the cavalry ride from, the woods, and ride straight through our +flying men and strike ... and many of the fugitives fire upon the +horsemen, who in turn flee for their lives.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>It is long past noon; the sun is a huge red shield; the world is +smoke. Another regiment has gone in; the roar of battle grows; +crowds of wounded go by; a battery gallops headlong to the rear ... +the men madly lash the horses.</p> +<p>"<i>Bat-tal-ion</i>--ATTENTION!"</p> +<p>Our time is upon us; the Eleventh, stands and forms.</p> +<p>"<i>For-ward</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>The dust is so dense that I can see nothing in the front, ... +but we are moving. Smith drops; Lewis falls to the rear; the ranks +are thinning; elbows touch no longer ... our pace quickens ... a +horrid impatience seizes me ... through the smoke I see the cannons +... faster, faster ... I see the rebel line--a tempest breaks in my +face--"<i>Surrender, you damned Yankee!</i>"</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="III"></a>III</h2> +<h3>I BREAK MY MUSKET</h3> +<center>"And, spite of spite, needs must I rest +awhile."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>I am running for life--a mass of fugitives around me--disorderly +mob ... I look behind--nothing but smoke ... I begin to walk.</p> +<p>The army was lost; it was no longer an army. As soon as the men +had run beyond gunshot they began to march, very deliberately, each +one for himself, away from the field. Companies, regiments, and +brigades were intermingled. If the rebels had been in condition to +pursue us, many thousands of our men would have fallen into their +hands.</p> +<p>In vain I tried to find some group of Company D. Suddenly I felt +exhausted--sick from hunger and fatigue--and was compelled to stop +and rest. The line of the enemy did not seem to advance, and firing +in our rear had ceased.</p> +<p>A man of our company passed me--Edmonds. I called to him, "Where +is the company?"</p> +<p>"All gone," said he; "and you'd better get out of that, too, as +quick as you can."</p> +<p>"Tell me who is hurt," said I.</p> +<p>But he was gone, and I felt that it would not do for me to +remain where I was. I remembered Dr. Khayme's encouraging words as +to my will, and by great effort resolved to rise and run.</p> +<p>At length, as I was going down the slope toward the creek, I +heard my name called. I looked round, and saw a man waving his +hand, and heard him call me again. I went toward him. It was +Willis; he was limping; his hat was gone; everything was gone; in +fact, he was hardly able to march.</p> +<p>"Where are you hit?" I asked.</p> +<p>"The knee," he replied.</p> +<p>"Bad?"</p> +<p>"I don't think it is serious; it seems to me that it don't pain +me as it did awhile ago."</p> +<p>"Can you hold out till we find an ambulance?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Well, that depends; I guess all the ambulances are needed for +men worse off than I am."</p> +<p>Just then an officer rode along, endeavouring to effect some +order, but the men gave no attention to him at all. They had taken +it into their heads to go. By this time the routed troops before us +were packed between the high banks of the roadway which went down +toward the creek. I was desperately hungry, having eaten nothing +since five o'clock in the morning.</p> +<p>"Let's stay here and eat something," said I to Willis, "and let +the crowd scatter before we go on."</p> +<p>"No, not yet," said he; "we need water first. I couldn't swallow +a mouthful without water. Whiskey wouldn't hurt either. Got any +water in your canteen?"</p> +<p>"Not a drop," said I.</p> +<p>Although Willis was limping badly, the slow progress of the +troops at this point allowed him to keep up. At the bottom of the +hill, where the road strikes the low ground, the troops had greater +space; some of them followed their leaders straight ahead on the +road; others went to the right and left, seeking to avoid the +crowd.</p> +<p>"Let's go up the creek," said Willis.</p> +<p>"What for?"</p> +<p>"To get water; I'm dying of thirst."</p> +<p>"Do you think you can stand it awhile longer?"</p> +<p>"Yes; at any rate, I'll keep a-goin' as long as God lets me, and +I can stand it better if I can get water and something to eat."</p> +<p>"Well, then, come on, and I'll help you as long as I can."</p> +<p>He leaned on me, hobbling along as best he could, and bravely +too, although, at every step he groaned with pain.</p> +<p>I had become somewhat attached to Willis. He was egotistic--just +a little--but harmlessly so, and his senses were sound and his will +was good; I had, too, abundant evidence of his liking for me. He +was a strapping fellow, more than six feet tall and as strong as a +bullock. So, while I fully understood the danger in tying myself to +a wounded comrade, I could not find it in my heart to desert him, +especially since he showed such determination to save himself. +Besides, I knew that he was quick-witted and country-bred; and I +had great hope that he would prove more of a help than a +hindrance.</p> +<p>We followed a few stragglers who had passed us and were now +running up the creek seeking a crossing. The stream was shallow, +but the banks were high, and in most places steep. Men were +crossing at almost all points. Slowly following the hurrying groups +of twos and threes who had outstripped us, we found at length, a +place that seemed fordable for Willis. It was where a small branch +emptied into the creek; and by getting into the branch, above its +mouth, and following its course, we should be able to cross the +creek.</p> +<p>"Lord! I am thirsty," said Willis; "but look how they have +muddied the branch; it's as bad as the creek."</p> +<p>"That water wouldn't do us any good," I replied.</p> +<p>"No," said he; "it would make us sick."</p> +<p>"But what else can we do?"</p> +<p>"Let's go up the branch, a little," said he.</p> +<p>All sounds in our rear had long since died away. The sun was yet +shining, but in the thick forest it was cool and almost dark. I +hoped that water, food, and a little rest would do us more good +than harm--that time would be saved, in effect.</p> +<p>A hundred yards above the mouth of the branch, we found the +water clear. I still had my canteen, my haversack with a cup in it, +and food. Willis lay on the ground near the stream, while I filled +my canteen; I handed it to him, and then knelt in the wet sand and +drank.</p> +<p>The spot might have been well chosen for secrecy; indeed, we +might have remained there for days were it not for fear. A giant +poplar had been uprooted by some storm and had crushed in its fall +an opening in, the undergrowth. The trunk spanned the little brook, +and the boughs, intermingling with the copse, made a complete +hiding-place.</p> +<p>I helped Willis to cross the branch; then we lay with the log at +our backs and completely screened from view.</p> +<p>Willis drank another great draught of water. I filled the +canteen again, and examined his wound. His knee was stiff and much +swollen; just under the knee-cap was a mass of clotted blood; this +I washed away, using all the gentle care at my command, but giving +him, nevertheless, great pain. A small round hole was now sean, and +by gently pressing on its walls, I thought I detected the presence +of the ball.</p> +<p>"Sergeant," said I, "it's in there; I don't believe it's more +than half an inch, deep."</p> +<p>"Then pull it out," said Willis,</p> +<p>That was more easily said than done. Willis was lying flat on +his back, eating ravenously. From moment to moment I stuffed my +mouth with hardtack and pork.</p> +<p>I sharpened a reed and introduced its point into the wound; an +obstacle was met at once--but how to get it out? The hole was so +small that I conjectured the wound had been made by a buck-shot, +the rebels using, as we ourselves, many smooth-bore muskets, loaded +with buck-and-ball cartridges.</p> +<p>"Willis," said I, "I think I'd better not undertake this job; +suppose I get the ball out, who knows that that will be better for +you? Maybe you'd lose too much blood."</p> +<p>"I want it out," said Willis.</p> +<p>"But suppose I can't got it out; we might lose an hour and do no +good. Besides, I must insist that I don't like it. I think my +business is to let your leg alone; I'm no surgeon."</p> +<p>"Take your knife," said Willis, "and cut the hole bigger."</p> +<p>The wound was bleeding afresh, but I did not tell him so.</p> +<p>"No," said I; "your leg is too valuable for me to risk anything +of that kind."</p> +<p>"You refuse?"</p> +<p>"I positively refuse," said I.</p> +<p>We had eaten enough. The sun was almost down. Far away a low +rumbling was heard, a noise like the rolling of cars or of a wagon +train.</p> +<p>Willis reluctantly consented to start. I went to the brook and +kneaded some clay into the consistency of plaster; I took off my +shirt, and tore it into strips. Against the naked limb, stiffened +out, I applied a handful of wet clay and smoothed it over; then I +wrapped the cloths around the knee, at every fold smearing the +bandage with clay. I hardly knew why I did this, unless with the +purpose of keeping the knee-joint from bending; when the clay +should become dry and hard the joint would be incased in a stiff +setting which I hoped would serve for splints. Willis approved the +treatment, saying that clay was good for sprains, and might be good +for wounds.</p> +<p>I helped the sergeant to his feet. He could stand, but could +hardly move.</p> +<p>"Take my gun," said I, "and use it as a crutch."</p> +<p>He did as I said, but the barrel of the gun sank into the soft +earth; after two strides he said, "Here! I can get along better +without it." Meanwhile I had been sustaining part of his +weight.</p> +<p>I saw now that I must abandon my gun--a smooth-bore, on the +stock of which, with a soldier's vanity, I had carved the letters +J. B. I broke the stock with one blow of the barrel against the +poplar log.</p> +<p>I was now free to help Willis. Slowly and painfully we made our +way through the bottom. The cool water of the creek rose above our +knees and seemed to cheer the wounded man. The ascent of the +further bank was achieved, but with great difficulty.</p> +<a name="033.png"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/033.png" width="50%" alt=""><br> +<b>BULL RUN, July 2l, 1861.</b></p> +<p>We rested a little while. Here, in the swamp, night was falling. +We saw no one, neither pursuers nor pursued. At length, after much +and painful toil, we got through the wood. The last light of day +showed us a small field in front. Willis leaned against a tree, his +blanched face showing his agony. I let down a gap in the fence.</p> +<p>It was clearly to be seen that the sergeant could do no more, +and I decided to settle matters without consulting him. In the +field I had seen some straw stacks. We succeeded in reaching them. +At the bottom of the smallest, I hollowed out a sort of cave. The +work took but a minute. Willis was looking on dully; he was on the +bare ground, utterly done for with pain and weariness. At length, +he asked, "What's that for?"</p> +<p>"For you," I replied.</p> +<p>He said no more; evidently he appreciated the situation and at +the same time was too far gone to protest. I made him a bed and +pulled the overhanging straw thinly around him, so as effectually +to conceal him from any chance passer-by; I took off my canteen and +haversack and placed them within his reach. Then, with a lump in my +throat, I bade him good-by.</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "God bless you."</p> +<p>"Sergeant," I said, "go to sleep if you can. I shall try to +return and get you; I am going to find help; if I can possibly get +help, I will come back for you to-night; but if by noon to-morrow +you do not see me, you must act for the best. It may become +necessary for you to show yourself and surrender, in order to get +your wound properly treated; all this country will be ransacked by +the rebel cavalry before to-morrow night."</p> +<p>"Yes, I know that," said Willis; "I will do the best I can. God +bless you, Jones."</p> +<p>Alone and lightened, I made my way in the darkness to the road +which we had left when we began to seek the ford. I struck the road +a mile or more to the north of Bull Run. There was no moon; thick +clouds gave warning of rain. I knew that to follow this road--the +same circuitous road by which we had advanced in the morning--was +not to take the nearest way to Centreville. I wanted to find the +Warrenton turnpike, but all I knew was that it was somewhere to my +right. I determined to make my way as rapidly as I could in that +direction through the fields and thickets.</p> +<p>For an hour or more I had blundered on through brush and brake, +when suddenly I seemed to hear the noise of a moving wagon. I went +cautiously in the direction of the sound, which soon ceased.</p> +<p>By dint of straining my eyes I could see an oblong form outlined +against the sky.</p> +<p>I went toward it; I could hear horses stamping and harness +rattling; still, I could see no one. The rear of the wagon, if it +was a wagon, was toward me.</p> +<p>I reasoned: "This cannot be a rebel ambulance; there would be no +need for it here; it must be one of ours, or else it is a private +carriage; it certainly is not an army wagon."</p> +<p>I advanced a little nearer, I had made up my mind to halloo, and +had opened my lips, when a voice came from the ambulance--a voice +which I had heard before, and which, stupefied me with +astonishment.</p> +<p>"Is that you, Jones?"</p> +<p>I stood fixed. I seemed to recognize the voice, but surely my +supposition must be impossible.</p> +<p>A man got out of the ambulance, and approached; he had a pipe in +his mouth; he was a small man, not more than five feet tall. I felt +as though in the presence of a miracle.</p> +<p>"I have been seeking you," he said.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="IV"></a>IV</h2> +<h3>A PERSONAGE</h3> +<center> "I cannot tell<br> +What heaven hath given him; let some graver eye<br> +Pierce unto that."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>For a time I was dumb. I knew not what to say or ask or think. +The happenings of this terrible day, which had wrought the defeat +of the Union army, had been too much for me. Vanquished, exhausted, +despairing, heart-sore from enforced desertion of my wounded +friend, still far from safety myself, with no physical desire +remaining except the wish to lie down and be at rest forever, and +with no moral feeling in my consciousness except that of +shame,--which will forever rise uppermost in me when I think of +that ignominious day,--to be suddenly accosted by the man whom I +held in the most peculiar veneration and who, I had believed, was +never again to enter into my life--accosted by him on the verge of +the lost battlefield--in the midst of darkness and the +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.</p> +<p>How long I lay there I have never known--probably but few +moments.</p> +<p>The Doctor took my hand in his. "Be consoled, my friend," said +he; "you are in safety; this is my ambulance; we will take you with +us."</p> +<p>Then, he called to some one in the ambulance, "Reed, bring me +the flask of brandy."</p> +<p>When I had revived, the Doctor urged me to climb in before +him.</p> +<p>"No," I cried, "I cannot do it; I cannot leave Willis; we must +get Willis."</p> +<p>"I heard that Willis was shot," said he; "but I had supposed, +from the direction you two wore taking when last seen, that he had +reached the field hospital. Where is Willis now?"</p> +<p>I told him as accurately as I could, and in half an hour we were +in the stubble-field. For fear the sergeant should be unnecessarily +alarmed on hearing persons approach, I called him softly by name; +then, hearing no answering call, I raised my voice--"Willis! It is +Jones, with help!" But there was no response.</p> +<p>We found the sergeant fast asleep. It was more difficult to get +him awake than to get him into the ambulance. Reed and I picked him +up bodily and laid him down on a mattress in the bottom of the +vehicle.</p> +<p>And now, with my load of personal duty gone, I also sank back +and slumbered through a troubled night, and when I fully awoke it +was six in the morning and we were crossing Long Bridge in the +midst of a driving rain. There were two seats in the ambulance, +besides a double-deck, that is to say, two floors for wounded to +lie upon. I scrambled to the rear seat.</p> +<p>We were making but slow progress. The bridge ahead of us was +crowded. There were frequent stoppages. Many civilians, on +horseback or in carriages, were before and behind us. Soldiers +single and in groups swelled the procession, some of them with +their arms in slings; how they had achieved the long night march I +cannot yet comprehend.</p> +<p>Willis was yet lying on the mattress; his eyes were not open, +but he was awake, I thought, for his motions were restless.</p> +<p>Reed appeared to be exhausted; he said nothing and nodded +sleepily, although holding the lines. The Doctor, on the contrary, +looked fresh and vigorous; indeed, as I closely studied his face, I +could almost have believed that he had become younger than he had +been when I parted with him in Charleston, more than three years +before. He knew that I was observing him, for he said, without +turning his face toward me, "You have not slept well, Jones; but +you did not know when we stopped at Fairfax; we rested the horses +there for an hour."</p> +<p>"Yes," I said, "I feel stupid, and my spirits are wofully +down."</p> +<p>"Why so?" he asked, with a smile.</p> +<p>"Oh, the bitter disappointment!" I cried; "what will become of +the country?"</p> +<p>"What do you mean by the country?" asked the Doctor.</p> +<p>I did not reply at once.</p> +<p>"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the +people of the United States, including those of the seceded States? +Do you mean the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes +American civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult +matters now. We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and +then arrange for your comfort."</p> +<p>"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my +devouring curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on +the battlefield."</p> +<p>"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you +there is no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately, +as an agent of the United States Sanitary Commission."</p> +<p>"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you +felt no interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in +Charleston in 'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe. +And then, too, how could you know that I was on such a part of the +battlefield, and that Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"</p> +<p>"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and +afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being +in America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer +all talk of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with +Sergeant Willis, and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men +of your regiment gave me that information."</p> +<p>I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the +miscellaneous file of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else +that was now blocked on the bridge,</p> +<p>At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily +find the place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a +mile from the spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am +certain that I could not have found the place."</p> +<p>"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively +easy for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all +day to help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason +that he knows every nook and corner of that part of the +country."</p> +<p>After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia +College Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before +learning that his wound was not difficult.</p> +<p>"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will +see to it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take +that time to set you right, especially as I can see that you have +some traces of nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent +your becoming ill."</p> +<p>"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody +authorized to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own; +by to-morrow all the routed troops will be in or near Washington; +then I shall simply write a note, if you insist upon it, to the +commanding officer of your company, explaining Willis's absence and +your connection with his case, and take on myself the +responsibility for your return to your command."</p> +<p>"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be +accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"</p> +<p>"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor; +"some of your men will not report to their commands for a week. You +will be ready for your company before your company is ready for +you."</p> +<p>"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all +military requirement."</p> +<p>He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his +hand.</p> +<p>"Well, what do you think of this?"</p> +<p>It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company +and regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for +ten days. I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his +kindness.</p> +<p>"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the +best of quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized +that we have not yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our +affairs; in fact, my work yesterday was rather the work of a +volunteer than the work of the Commission. Our tents are now beyond +Georgetown Heights; in a few days we shall move our camps, and +shall increase our comfort."</p> +<p>The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets. +The sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and +soldiers; wagons, guns, caissons, ambulances; companies, +spick-and-span, which, had not yet seen service; ones, twos, +threes, squads of men who had escaped from the disaster of the +21st, unarmed, many of them, without knapsacks, haggard.</p> +<p>At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind +which stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished +fugitives. The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians +looked their anxiety. A general officer rode by, surrounded by the +remnant of his staff, heads bent down, gloomy. Women wept while +serving the hungry. The unfinished dome of the Capitol, hardly seen +through the rain, loomed ominous. Depression over all: ambulances +full of wounded men, tossing and groaning; fagged-out horses, +vehicles splashed with mud; policemen dazed, idle; newsboys crying +their merchandise; readers eagerly reading--not to know the result +to the army, but the fate of some loved one; stores closed; +whispers; doom.</p> +<p>I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he +got out of the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman +gave him coffee, which he brought to me, and made me drink. He +returned to the table and gave back the cup. The woman looked +toward the ambulance. She was a tall young woman, serious, +dignified. She impressed me.</p> +<p>We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were +four wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The +ambulance stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of +the tents; he pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," +said he; "go to sleep; you shall not be disturbed."</p> +<p>"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Why not?"</p> +<p>"My mind will not let me."</p> +<p>"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you +are getting on."</p> +<p>I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, +pulling a sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.</p> +<p>I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the +First Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the +woods. I saw the rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar +log in a thicket;--a purple wound--wet clay;--a broken +rifle;--stacks of straw.</p> +<p>Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? +for the cause? What is to defend Washington?</p> +<p>Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would +be anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I +rose.</p> +<p>"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so +overwhelmed by this great calamity that I had not thought of +telegraphing to my father. Can you get a messenger here?"</p> +<p>"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing +that you are safe."</p> +<p>"You?"</p> +<p>"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to +sleep; by the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your +father."</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can +sleep."</p> +<p>"Let me feel your pulse."</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the +side of the bed.</p> +<p>"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse, +he said softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder +that you are wrought up."</p> +<p>He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through +my hair.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="V"></a>V</h2> +<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR IN CAMP</h3> +<center>"Great lords, wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss,<br> +But cheerly seek how to redress their harms."<br> +<br> +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>When I awoke in Dr. Khayme's tent toward four o'clock of the +afternoon of July 22, I felt that my mind was clear; I had slept +dreamlessly.</p> +<p>On the cover of my bed an envelope was lying--a telegram. I +hastily tore it open, and read: "Dr. Khayme tells me you are safe. +Continue to do your duty." My heart swelled,</p> +<p>I rose, and dressed, and went out. The Doctor was standing under +a tree, near a fire; a negro was cooking at the fire. Under an +awning, or fly, beneath which a small eating table was dressed, a +woman was sitting in a chair, reading. I thought I had seen her +before, and looking more closely I recognized the woman who had +given the Doctor a cup of coffee on Pennsylvania Avenue.</p> +<p>The Doctor stepped forward to meet me, "Ah, I see you have +rested well," said he; then, "Lydia, here is Mr. Berwick."</p> +<p>I was becoming accustomed to surprises from the Doctor, so that +I was not greatly astonished, although I had received no intimation +of the young lady's identity. The feeling that was uppermost was +shame that I had not even, once thought of asking the Doctor about +her.</p> +<p>"I should, never have recognized you," I said. She replied with, +a smile, and the Doctor relieved the situation by cheerfully crying +out "Dinner!" and leading the way to the table.</p> +<p>"Now, Jones," said the Doctor, "you are expected to eat; you +have had nothing since yesterday afternoon, when you choked +yourself while bandaging--"</p> +<p>"What do you know about that?" I asked.</p> +<p>"You talked about it in your sleep last night on the road. As +for Lydia and me, we have had our breakfast and our luncheon, and +you must not expect us to eat like a starving fantassin. Fall to, +my boy. I know that you have eaten nothing to-day."</p> +<p>There were fruit, bread and butter, lettuce, rice, and coffee. I +did not wonder at the absence of meat; I remembered some of the +talks of my friend. The Doctor and his daughter seemed to eat +merely for the purpose of keeping me in countenance.</p> +<p>"Lydia, would you have known Mr. Berwick?"</p> +<p>"Why, of course, Father; I should have known him anywhere; it is +not four years since we saw him."</p> +<p>These four years had made a great change in Miss Khayme. I had +left her a girl in the awkward period of a girl's life; now she was +a woman of fine presence, wholesome, good to look at. She did not +resemble her father, except perhaps in a certain intellectual cast +of feature. Her dark wavy tresses were in contrast with his +straight black hair; her eyes were not his; her stature was greater +than his. Yet there were points of resemblance. Her manner was +certainly very like the Doctor's, and many times a fleeting +expression was identical with, the Doctor's habitually perfect +repose.</p> +<p>She must have been clad very simply; at any rate, I cannot +remember anything of her dress. I only know that it was +unpretentious and charming.</p> +<p>Her eyes were of that shade of gray which is supposed to +indicate great intelligence; her complexion was between dark and +fair, and betokened health. Her face was oval; her mouth a little +large perhaps. She had an air of seriousness--her only striking +peculiarity. One might have charged her with masculinity, but in +this respect only: she was far above the average woman in dignity +of manner and in consciousness of attainment. She could talk +seriously of men and things.</p> +<p>I was wishing to say something pleasant to Miss Lydia, but could +only manage to tell her that she had changed wonderfully and that +she had a great advantage over me in that I was the same ungainly +boy she had known in Charleston.</p> +<p>She did not reply to this, covering her silence by making me my +third cup of coffee.</p> +<p>"Lydia," said the Doctor, "you must tell Mr. Berwick something +about our life in the East. You know how I dislike to speak three +sentences."</p> +<p>"With great pleasure, Father; Mr. Berwick will find that I can +speak four."</p> +<p>"Not now, my dear. I warn you, Jones, that I shall watch over +you very carefully while you are with us. I am responsible to the +hospital surgeon for your health, and I cannot be a party to your +extinction."</p> +<p>"How many sentences did you speak then, Father?"</p> +<p>"It depends on how you punctuate," he replied.</p> +<p>"Mr. Berwick," said Lydia, "Father pretends that he is not +talkative, but don't you believe him. He can easily talk you to +sleep."</p> +<p>The Doctor was almost gay, that is, for the Doctor. His eyes +shone. He did not cease to look at me, except when he looked at +Lydia. For the time, Lydia had a severer countenance than her +father's. I ate. I thanked my stars for the conversation that was +covering my ignoble performance.</p> +<p>"Doctor," I asked, pausing for breath, "is there any news of +Willis?"</p> +<p>"Willis is doing well enough. The ball has been extracted; it +was only a buck-shot, as you rightly surmised."</p> +<p>"How do you know what I surmised, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Willis told the surgeon of your supposition, giving you full +credit for the origin of it. By the way, that was a famous bandage +you gave him."</p> +<p>"Was it the correct practice?"</p> +<p>"Well, I can hardly go as far as to say it was scientific, but +under the circumstances we must pardon you."</p> +<p>"How long will the sergeant be down?"</p> +<p>"From three to six weeks, I think, according to the weather and +his state of mind."</p> +<p>"What's the matter with his mind?"</p> +<p>"Impatience," said the Doctor; "the evil of the whole Western +world."</p> +<p>I had finished eating. The Doctor got his pipe: the idol's head +was the same old idol's head. Lydia disappeared into one of the +tents.</p> +<p>"Jones," said Dr. Khayme, "I have been thinking that yesterday +will prove to be the crisis of the war."</p> +<p>"You alarm me more than ever; do you mean to say that the South +will win?"</p> +<p>"My words do not imply that belief; but what does it matter +which side shall win?"</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are a strange man!"</p> +<p>"I have been told so very frequently; but that is not to the +point. I ask what difference it would make whether the North or +South should succeed."</p> +<p>"Then why go to war? Why not let the South, secede peaceably? +What are we doing here?"</p> +<p>"Indeed, Jones, you may well ask such questions. War is always +wrong; going to war is necessarily a phase of a shortsighted +policy; every wrong act is, of course, an unwise act."</p> +<p>"Even when war is forced upon us?"</p> +<p>"War cannot be forced upon you; it takes two nations to make +war; if one refuses, the other cannot make war."</p> +<p>"I have known, for a long time, Doctor, that you are opposed to +war on the whole; but what was left for the North to do? +Acknowledge the right of secession? Submit to insult? Submit to the +loss of all Federal property in the Southern States? Tamely endure +without resentment the attack on Sumter?"</p> +<p>"Yes, endure everything rather than commit a worse crime than +that you resist."</p> +<p>Here Lydia, reappeared, charming in a simple white dress without +ornament. "Good-by, Father," she said; "Mr. Berwick, I must bid you +good night."</p> +<p>"Yes, you are on duty to-night," said her father. "Jones, you +must know that Lydia is a volunteer also; she attaches herself to +the Commission, and insists on serving the sick and wounded. She is +on duty to-night at the College Hospital. I think she will have her +hands full."</p> +<p>"Why, you will see Willis; will you be in his ward?" I asked, +looking my admiration.</p> +<p>"I don't know that I am in his ward," she replied, "but I can +easily see him if you wish."</p> +<p>"Then please be so good as to tell him that I shall come to see +him--to-morrow, if possible."</p> +<p>Lydia started off down the hill.</p> +<p>"She will find a buggy at our stable-camp," said Dr. Khayme; "it +is but a short distance down there."</p> +<p>The Doctor smoked. I thought of many things. His view of war was +not new, by any means; of course, in the abstract he was right: war +is wrong, and that which is wrong is unwise; but how to prevent +war? A nation that will not preserve itself, how can it exist? I +could not doubt that secession is destruction. If the Union should +now or ever see itself broken up, then farewell to American +liberties; farewell to the hopes of peoples against despotism. To +refuse war, to tamely allow the South to withdraw and set up a +government of her own, would be but the beginning of the end; at +the first grievance California, Massachusetts, any State, could and +would become independent. No; war must come; the Union must be +preserved; the nation was at the forks of the road; for my part, I +could not hesitate; we must take one road or the other; war was +forced upon us. But why reason thus, as though we still had choice? +War already exists; we must make the best of it; we are down +to-day, but Bull Run is not the whole of the war; one field is +lost, but all is not lost.</p> +<p>"Doctor," I asked, "why do you say that yesterday will prove to +be the crisis of the war?"</p> +<p>"Because," he answered, "yesterday's lesson was well taught and +will be well learned; it was a rude lesson, but it will prove a +wholesome one. Your government now knows the enormous work it has +to do. We shall now see preparation commensurate with the greatness +of the work. Three months' volunteers are already a thing of the +past. This war might have been avoided; all war might be avoided; +but this war has not been avoided; America will be at war for years +to come."</p> +<p>I was silent.</p> +<p>"We shall have a new general, Jones; General McClellan is +ordered to report immediately in person to the war department."</p> +<p>"Why a new general? McClellan is well enough, I suppose; but +what has McDowell done to deserve this?"</p> +<p>"He has failed. Failure in war is unpardonable; every general +that fails finds it so; McClellan may find it so."</p> +<p>"You are not much of a comforter, Doctor."</p> +<p>"The North does not need false comforters; she needs to look +things squarely in the face. Mind you, I did not say that McClellan +will fail. I think, however, that there will be many failures, and +much injustice done to those who fail. In war injustice is easily +tolerated--any injustice that will bring success; success is +demanded--not justice. Wholesale murder was committed yesterday and +brought failure; wholesale murder that brings success is what is +demanded by this superstitious people."</p> +<p>"Why do you say superstitious?"</p> +<p>"A nation at war believes in luck; if it has not good luck, it +changes; it is like the gambler who bets high when he thinks he has +what he calls a run in his favor. If the cards go against him, he +changes his policy, and very frequently changes just as the cards +change to suit his former play. You are now changing to McClellan, +simply because McDowell has had bad luck and McClellan good luck. I +do not know that McClellan's good luck will continue. War and cards +are alike, and they are unlike."</p> +<p>"How alike and unlike?"</p> +<p>"Games of chance, so called, lose everything like chance in the +long run; they equalize 'chances' and nobody wins. War also +destroys chance, and nobody wins; both sides lose, only one side +loses less than the other. In games, the result of one play cannot +be foretold; in war, the result of one battle cannot be foretold. +In games and in war the general result can be foretold; in the one +there will be a balance and in the other there will be destruction. +Even the winner in war is ruined morally, just as is the +gambler."</p> +<p>"And can you foretell the result of this war?"</p> +<p>"Conditionally."</p> +<p>"How conditionally?"</p> +<p>"If the North is in earnest, or becomes in earnest, and her +people become determined, there is no mystery in a prediction of +her nominal success; still, she will suffer for her crime. She must +suffer largely, just as she is suffering to-day in a small way for +the crime of yesterday."</p> +<p>"It is terrible to think of yesterday's useless sacrifice."</p> +<p>"Not useless, Jones, regarded in its relation to this war, but +certainly useless in relation to civilization. Bull Bun will prove +salutary for your cause, or I woefully mistake. Nations that go to +war must learn from misfortune."</p> +<p>"But, then, does not the misfortune of yesterday justify a +change in generals?"</p> +<p>"Not unless the misfortune was caused by your bad generalship, +and that is not shown--at least, so far as McDowell is concerned. +The advance should not have been made, but he was ordered to make +it. We now know that Beauregard's army was 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."</p> +<p>"What do you mean by that, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"I mean that war is wrong; it is always so. It is essentially +unjust and narrow. You have given up your power to be just; you +cannot do what you know to be just. You act under compulsion, +having yielded your freedom. A losing general is sacrificed, +regardless of his real merit."</p> +<p>"Was it so in Washington's case?"</p> +<p>"Washington's first efforts were successful; had he been, +defeated at Boston, he would have been superseded--unless, indeed, +the colonies had given up the struggle."</p> +<p>"And independence would have been lost?"</p> +<p>"No; I do not say that. The world had need of American +independence."</p> +<p>For half an hour we sat thus talking, the Doctor doing the most +of it, and giving full rein to his philosophically impersonal views +of the immediate questions involved in the national struggle. He +rose at last, and left me thinking of his strange personality and +wondering why, holding such views, be should throw his energies +into either side.</p> +<p>He returned presently, bringing me a letter from my father. He +waited as I opened it, and when I asked leave to read it, he said +for answer, as if still thinking of our conversation:--</p> +<p>"Jones, my boy, there is a future for you. I can imagine +circumstances in which your peculiar powers of memory would +accomplish more genuine good than could a thousand bayonets; good +night."</p> +<p>Before I went to bed I had written my father a long letter. +Then, I lay down, oppressed with thought.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VI"></a>VI</h2> +<h3>THE USES OF INFIRMITY</h3> +<center>"There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live +as before;<br> +The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound;<br> +What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good +more;<br> +On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round."<br> +<br> +--BROWNING.</center> +<br> +<p>The next morning Lydia was missing from the breakfast table. The +Doctor said that she had gone to her room--which was at a friend's +house in Georgetown--to rest. She had brought from Willis a request +that I should come to see him.</p> +<p>"You are getting back to your normal condition," said the +Doctor, "and if you do not object I shall drive you down."</p> +<p>On the way, the Doctor told me that alarm as to the safety of +the capital had subsided. The army was reorganizing on the Virginia +hills and was intrenching rapidly. 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.</p> +<p>"You need be in no hurry to report to your company," said Dr. +Khayme; "it is true that you are almost fit for duty, but you have +practically a leave of absence for a week or more, and I am sure +that rest will do you good. By the way, President Lincoln will +visit the troops at Arlington to-day; if you like, I shall be glad +to take you over."</p> +<p>I declined, saying that I must see Willis, and expressing my +desire to return to my post of duty as soon as possible.</p> +<p>We found Willis cheerful. The Doctor asked him a few questions +and then passed into the office.</p> +<p>Willis pressed my hand. "Old man," said he, "but for you I +should be a prisoner. Count on Jake Willis whenever you need a +friend, or when it is in his power to do you a service."</p> +<p>"Sergeant," said I, "I shall go back to duty in a day or two. +What shall I say to the boys for you?"</p> +<p>"Tell 'em old Jake is a-comin' too. My leg feels better already. +The surgeon promises to put me on my feet in a month, or six weeks +at the outside. Have you learned how our company came out?"</p> +<p>"The papers say there were four killed," I said; "but I have not +seen their names, and I hope they are only missing. There were a +good many wounded. The regiment's headquarters are over the river, +and I have not seen a man of the company except you. I am very +anxious."</p> +<p>"So am I," said the sergeant; "your friend Dr. Khayme told me it +will be some days before we learn the whole truth. He is a queer +man, Jones; I believe he knows what I think. Was that his daughter +who came in here last night?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered; "she left me your message this morning."</p> +<p>"Say, Jones, you remember that poplar log?"</p> +<p>"I don't think I can ever forget it," I replied. The next moment +I thought of my bygone mental peculiarity, and wondered if I should +ever again be subjected to loss of memory. I decided to speak to +Dr. Khayme once more about this matter. Although he had advised me +in Charleston never to speak of it or think of it, he had only last +night, referred to it himself.</p> +<p>"I must go now, Sergeant," said I; "can I do anything for +you?"</p> +<p>"No, I think not."</p> +<p>"You are able to write your own letters?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; the nurse gives me a bed-table."</p> +<p>"Well, good-by."</p> +<p>"Say, Jones, you remember them straw stacks? Good-by, Jones. +I'll be with the boys again before long."</p> +<p>In the afternoon I returned to the little camp and found the +Doctor and Lydia. The Doctor was busy--writing. I reminded Lydia of +her promise to tell me something about her life in the East.</p> +<p>"Where shall I begin?" she asked,</p> +<p>"Begin at the beginning," I said; "begin at the time I left +Charleston."</p> +<p>"I don't know," she said, "that Father had at that time any +thought of going. One morning he surprised me by telling me to get +ready for a long journey."</p> +<p>"When was that?" I asked.</p> +<p>"I am not certain, but I know it was one day in the vacation, +and a good while after you left."</p> +<p>"It must have been in September, then."</p> +<p>"Yes, I am almost sure it was in September."</p> +<p>"I suppose you were very glad to go."</p> +<p>"Yes, I was; but Father's intention was made known to me so +suddenly that I had no time to say good-by to anybody, and that +grieved me."</p> +<p>"You wanted to say good-by to somebody?"</p> +<p>"The Sisters, you know--and my schoolmates."</p> +<p>"Yes--of course; did your old servant go too?"</p> +<p>"Yes; she died while we were in India."</p> +<p>"I remember her very well. So you went to India?"</p> +<p>"Not directly; we sailed first to Liverpool; then we went on to +Paris--strange, we went right through London, and were there not +more than an hour or two."</p> +<p>"How long did you stay in Paris?"</p> +<p>"Father had some business there--I don't know what--that kept us +for two or three weeks. Then we went to Havre, and took a ship for +Bombay."</p> +<p>"And so you were in India most of the time while you were +abroad?"</p> +<p>"Yes; we lived in India nearly three years."</p> +<p>"In Bombay?"</p> +<p>"I was in Bombay, but Father was absent a good deal of the +time."</p> +<p>"Did you go to school?"</p> +<p>"Yes," she said, smiling.</p> +<p>Dinner was ready. After dinner the Doctor and I sat under the +trees. I told him of my wish to return to my company.</p> +<p>"Perhaps it is just as well," said he.</p> +<p>"I think I am fit for duty," said I.</p> +<p>"Yes, you are strong enough," said he.</p> +<p>"Then why are you reluctant?"</p> +<p>"Because I am not quite sure that your health is safe; you ran a +narrower risk than your condition now would show."</p> +<p>"And you think there is danger in my reporting for duty?"</p> +<p>"Ordinary bodily exertion will not injure you; exposure might; +the weather is very warm."</p> +<p>"There will be nothing for me to do--at least, nothing very hard +on me."</p> +<p>"Danger seems at present averted," said Dr. Khayme. "Your +depression has gone; if you are not worse to-morrow, I shall not +oppose your going."</p> +<p>I plunged into the subject most interesting to me: "Doctor, do +you remember telling me, some ten years ago, that you did not think +it advisable for me to tell you of my experiences?"</p> +<p>"Yes," he replied.</p> +<p>"And that it was best, perhaps, that I should not think of +them?"</p> +<p>"Yes," he replied,</p> +<p>"Yet you referred last night to what you called my peculiar +powers."</p> +<p>"Yes, and said that it is possible to make great use of +them."</p> +<p>"Doctor, do you know that after I left you in Charleston I had a +recurrence of my trouble?"</p> +<p>"I had at least suspected it."</p> +<p>"Why do you call my infirmity a peculiar power?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Why do you call your peculiar power an infirmity?" he retorted. +Then, with the utmost seriousness, he went on to say: "Everything +is relative; your memory, taking it generally, is better than that +of some, and poorer than that of others; as it is affected by your +peculiar periods, it is in some features far stronger than the +average memory, and in other features it is weaker; have you not +known this?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I can recall any object that I have seen; its image is +definite, if it has been formed in a lapse."</p> +<p>"But in respect to other matters than objects?"</p> +<p>"You mean as to thought?"</p> +<p>"Yes--speculation."</p> +<p>"In a lapse I seem to forget any mere opinion, or speculation, +that is, anything not an established fact."</p> +<p>"Suppose, for instance, that you should to-day read an article +written to show that the moon is inhabited; would you remember it +in one of your 'states'?"</p> +<p>"Not at all," said I.</p> +<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion of the tariff question; +would you remember it?"</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"Suppose you should hear a discussion upon the right to coerce a +seceded State, and should to-day reach a conclusion as to the truth +of the controversy; now, would you to-morrow, in one of your +'states,' remember the discussion?"</p> +<p>"No; certainly not."</p> +<p>"Not even if the discussion had occurred previously to the +period affected by your memory?"</p> +<p>"I don't exactly catch, your meaning, Doctor."</p> +<p>"I mean to ask what attitude your mind has, in one of your +'states,' toward unsettled questions."</p> +<p>"No attitude whatever; I know nothing of such, one way or the +other."</p> +<p>"How, then, could you ever form an opinion upon a disputed +question?"</p> +<p>"I don't know, Doctor; I suppose that if I should ever form an +opinion upon anything merely speculative, I should have to do it +from new material, or repeated material, of thought."</p> +<p>"But now let us reverse this supposition: suppose that to-morrow +you are in one of your 'states,' and you hear a discussion and draw +a conclusion; will this conclusion remain with you next week when +you have recovered the chain of your memory?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"And your mind would hold to its former decision?"</p> +<p>"Oh, no; not necessarily. I mean that my memory would retain the +fact that I had formerly decided the matter."</p> +<p>"And in your recovered state you might reverse a decision made +while in a lapse?"</p> +<p>"Certainly."</p> +<p>"But the undoubted truths, or material facts, as some people +call them, would still be undoubted?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"And objects seen while in a 'state' will be remembered by you +when you recover?"</p> +<p>"Vividly; if I could draw, I could draw them as well as if they +were present."</p> +<p>"It would not be wrong, then, to say that what you lose in one +period you gain in another? that what you lose in things doubtful +you gain in intensity of fact?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not wrong, though I cannot say that the loss of one +causes the gain of the other."</p> +<p>"That is not important; yet I suspect it is true that your +faculty is quickened in one function, by relaxation in another. You +know that the hearing of the blind is very acute."</p> +<p>"Yes, but I don't see how all this shows my case to be a good +thing."</p> +<p>"You can imagine situations in which, hearing is of greater +value than sight?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"A blind scout might be more valuable on a dark night than one +who could see."</p> +<p>"Yes, but I cannot see how this affects me; I am neither blind +nor deaf, nor am I a scout."</p> +<p>"But it can be said that a good memory may be of greater value +at one time than another."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; I suppose so."</p> +<p>"Now," said Dr. Khayme, "I do not wish you to believe for a +moment that there is at present any occasion for you to turn scout; +I have merely instanced a possible case in which hearing is more +valuable than sight, and we have agreed that memory is worth, more +at times than at other times. I should like to relieve you, +moreover, of any fears that you, may have in regard to the +continuance of your infirmity--as you insist on thinking it. Cases +like yours always recover."</p> +<p>"Dr. Abbott once told me that my case was not entirely unique," +said I; "but I thought he said it only to comfort me."</p> +<p>"There is nothing new under the sun," said Dr. Khayme; "we have +such cases in the records of more than, one ancient writer. +Averroes himself clearly refers to such a case."</p> +<p>"He must have lived a long time ago," said I, "judging from the +sound of his name; and I doubt that he would have compared well +with, our people."</p> +<p>"But more remarkable things are told by the prophets--even your +own prophets. The mental changes undergone by Saul of Tarsus, by +John on Patmos, by Nabuchodonosor, and by many others, are not less +wonderful than, yours."</p> +<p>"They were miracles," said I.</p> +<p>"What is miracle?" asked the Doctor, but continued without +waiting for me to reply; "more wonderful changes have happened and +do happen every year to men's minds than this which has happened to +yours; men lose their minds utterly for a time, and then recover +their faculties entirely; men lose their identity, so to speak; men +can be changed in an hour, by the use of a drug, into different +creatures, if we are to judge by the record their own consciousness +gives them."</p> +<p>"I cannot doubt my own senses," said I; "my changes come upon me +without a drug and in a moment."</p> +<p>"If you will read Sir William Hamilton, you will find authentic +records which will forever relieve you of the belief that your +condition is unparalleled. It may be unique in that phase of it +which I hope will prove valuable; but as to its being the one only +case of the general--"</p> +<p>"I do not dispute there having been cases as strange as mine," I +interrupted; "your word for that is enough; but you ought to tell +me why you insist on the possibility of a cure and the usefulness +of the condition at the same time. If the condition may prove +useful, why change it?"</p> +<p>"There are many things in nature," said the Doctor, seriously, +"there are many things in nature which show their greatest worth +only at the moment of their extinction. Your seeming imperfection +of memory is, I repeat, but a relaxation of one of its functions in +order that another function may be strengthened--and all for a +purpose."</p> +<p>"What is that purpose?"</p> +<p>"I cannot tell you."</p> +<p>"Why can you not?"</p> +<p>"Because," said he, "the manner in which you will prove the +usefulness of your power is yet to be developed. Generally, I might +say, in order to encourage you, that it will probably be given to +you to serve your country in, a remarkable way; but as to the how +and when, you must leave it to the future to show."</p> +<p>"And you think that such a service will be at the end of my +trouble?"</p> +<p>"I think so," said he; "the laws of the mental world, in my +judgment, require that your recovery should follow the period +concerning which your factitious memory is brightest."</p> +<p>"But how can a private soldier serve his country in a remarkable +way?" I said, wondering.</p> +<p>"Wait," said he.</p> +<p>The Doctor filled his pipe and became silent. Lydia was not on +duty this night. She had listened gravely to what had been said. +Now she looked up with a faint smile, which I thought meant that +she was willing for me to talk to her and yet reluctant to be the +first to speak, not knowing whether I had need of silence. I had +begun to have a high opinion of Lydia's character.</p> +<p>"And you went to school in Bombay?"</p> +<p>"Yes, at first."</p> +<p>I was not willing to show a bald curiosity concerning her, and I +suppose my hesitation was expressed in my face, for she presently +continued.</p> +<p>"I studied and worked in the British hospital; you must know +that I am a nurse with some training. Father was very willing for +me to become a nurse, for he said that there would be war in +America, and that nurses would be needed."</p> +<p>Then, turning to the Doctor, she said, "Father, Mr. Berwick +asked me to-day when it was that we sailed from Charleston, and I +was unable to tell him."</p> +<p>"The third of September, 1857," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>I remembered that this was my sister's birthday and also the +very day on which I had written to Dr. Khayme that I should not +return to Charleston. The coincidence and its bearing on my +affliction disturbed me so that I could not readily continue my +part of the conversation, and Lydia soon retired.</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I, "to-morrow morning I shall be ready to report +to my company."</p> +<p>"Very well, Jones," he said, "act according to your conscience; +I shall see you frequently. There will be no more battles in this +part of the country for a long time, and it will not be difficult +for you to get leave of absence when you wish to see us. Besides, I +am thinking of moving our camp nearer to you."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VII"></a>VII</h2> +<h3>A SECOND DISASTER</h3> +<center>"Our fortune on the sea is out of breath.<br> +And sinks most lamentably."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>The winter brought an almost endless routine of drill, guard, +and picket duty and digging.</p> +<p>The division was on duty near Budd's Ferry. Dr. Khayme's +quarters were a mile to the rear of our left. I was a frequent +visitor at his tents. After Willis's return to duty, which was in +November, he and I spent much of our spare time at the Sanitary +camp. It was easy to see what attracted Jake. It did not seem to me +that Dr. Khayme gave much thought to the sergeant, but Lydia +gravely received his adoration silently offered, and so conducted +herself in his presence that I was puzzled greatly concerning their +relations. I frequently wondered why the sergeant did not confide +in me; we had become very intimate, so that in everything, except +his feeling for Miss Khayme, I was Willis's bosom friend, so to +speak; in that matter, however, he chose to ignore me.</p> +<p>One night--it was the night of February 6-7, 1862--I was at the +Doctor's tent. Jake was sergeant of the camp guard and could not be +with us. The Doctor smoked and read, engaging in the conversation, +however, at his pleasure. Lydia seemed graver than usual. I +wondered if it could be because of Willis's absence. It seemed to +me impossible that this dignified woman could entertain a passion +for the sergeant, who, while of course a very manly fellow, and a +thorough soldier in his way, surely was not on a level with Miss +Khayme. As for me, ah! well; I knew and felt keenly that until my +peculiar mental phases should leave me never to return, love and +marriage were impossible--so the very truth was, and always had +been, that I had sufficient strength to restrain any incipient +desire, and prudence enough to avoid temptation. My condition +encouraged introspection. I was almost constantly probing my own +mind, and by mere strength of will, which I had long cultivated +until--I suppose there is no immodesty in saying it--I could govern +myself, I drew back from every obstacle which my judgment +pronounced insurmountable. The Doctor had been of the greatest help +to me in this development of the will, and especially in that phase +or exercise of it called self-control; one of his common sayings +was, "He who resists the inevitable increases evil."</p> +<p>Ever since when as a boy I had yielded to his friendly guidance, +Dr. Khayme had evidently felt a sense of proprietorship in respect +to me, and I cherished such relationship; yet there had been many +times in our recent intercourse when I had feared him; so keen was +the man's insight. The power that he exercised over me I submitted +to gratefully; I felt that he was a man well fitted for counselling +youth, and I had so many proofs of his good-will, even of his +affection, that I trusted him fully in regard to myself; yet, with +all this, I felt that his great knowledge, and especially his +wonderful alertness of judgment, which amounted in many cases +seemingly to prophetic power almost, were doubtful quantities in +relation to the war. I believed that he was admitted to high +council; I had frequent glimpses of intimations--seemingly +unguarded on his part--that he knew beforehand circumstances and +projects not properly to be spoken of; but somehow, from a look, or +a word, or a movement now and then, I had almost reached the +opinion that Dr. Khayme was absolutely neutral between the +contestants in the war of the rebellion. He never showed anxiety. +The news of the Ball's Bluff disaster, which touched so keenly the +heart of the North, and especially of Massachusetts, gave him no +distress, to judge from his impassive face and his manner; yet it +is but just to repeat that he showed great interest in every event +directly relating to the existence of slavery. He commended the +acts of General Butler in Virginia and General Fremont in Missouri, +and hoped that the Southern leaders would impress all able-bodied +slaves into some sort of service, so that they would become at +least morally subject to the act of Congress, approved August 6, +which declared all such persons discharged from previous servitude. +In comparing my own attitude to the war with the Doctor's, I +frequently thought that he cared nothing for the Union, and I cared +everything; that he was concerned only in regard to human slavery, +while I was willing for the States themselves to settle that +matter; for I could see no constitutional power existing in the +Congress or in the President to abolish or even mitigate slavery +without the consent of the party of the first part. I was in the +war not on account of slavery, certainly, but on account of the +preservation of the Union; Dr. Khayme was in the war--so far as he +was in it at all--not for the Union, but for the abolition of +slavery.</p> +<p>On this night of February 6, the Doctor smoked and read and +occasionally gave utterance to some thought.</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "we are going to have news from the West; +Grant advances."</p> +<p>"I trust he will have better luck than McDowell had," was my +reply.</p> +<p>"He will; I don't know that he is a better general, but he has +the help of the navy."</p> +<p>"But the rebels have their river batteries," said I.</p> +<p>"Yes, and these batteries are costly, and will prove +insufficient; if the North succeeds in this war, and I see no +reason to doubt her success if she will but determine to succeed, +it will be through her navy."</p> +<p>I did not say anything to this. The Doctor smoked, Lydia sat +looking dreamily at the door of the stove.</p> +<p>After a while I asked: "Why is it that we do not move? February +is a spring month in the South."</p> +<p>The Doctor replied, "It is winter here, and the roads are +bad."</p> +<p>"Is it not winter in Kentucky and Tennessee?"</p> +<p>"Grant has the help of the navy; McClellan will move when he +gets the help of the navy."</p> +<p>"What good can the navy do between Washington and Richmond?"</p> +<p>"The James River flows by Richmond," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>I had already heard some talk of differences between our general +and the President in regard to a removal of the Army of the Potomac +to Fortress Monroe. I asked the Doctor if McClellan would advance +on Richmond by the Peninsular route, as it was called.</p> +<p>"He will if he is allowed to do so," replied the Doctor; "at +least," he added, "that is my opinion; in fact, I am so well +convinced of it that I shall make preparation at once to remove my +camp to some good place near Fort Monroe."</p> +<p>This intention was new to me, and it gave me great distress. +What I should do with myself after the Doctor had gone, I did not +know; I should get along somehow, of course, but I should miss my +friends sadly.</p> +<p>"I am very sorry to hear it, Doctor," said I, speaking to him +and looking at Lydia; her face was impervious.</p> +<p>"Oh," said the Doctor, with his rare and peculiar smile, "maybe +we can take you with us; you would only be going ahead of your +regiment."</p> +<p>Lydia's face was still inflexible, her eyes on the fire. I +wished for a chance to bring Willis's name to the front, but saw +none.</p> +<p>"I don't see how that could be done, Doctor; I confess that I +should like very much, to go with you, but how can I get leave of +absence?"</p> +<p>"Where there is a will there is a way."</p> +<p>"Yes, but I have no will; I have only a desire," said I, +gloomily.</p> +<p>"Well," said the Doctor, "I have will enough for both of us and +to spare."</p> +<p>"You mean to say that you can get me leave of absence?"</p> +<p>"Wait and see. When the time comes, there will be no trouble, +unless things change very greatly meanwhile."</p> +<p>I bade my friends good night and went back to my hut. The +weather was mild. My way was over hills and hollows, making me walk +somewhat carefully; but I did not walk carefully enough--I stumbled +and fell, and bruised my back.</p> +<p>The next day I was on camp guard. The weather was intensely +cold. A bitter wind from the north swept the Maryland hills; snow +and rain and sleet fell, all together. For two hours, alternating +with four hours' relief, I paced my beat back and forth; at six +o'clock, when I was finally relieved, I was wet to the skin. When I +reached my quarters, I went to bed at once and fell into a half +sleep.</p> +<p>Some time in the forenoon I found Dr. Khayme bending over me, +with his hand on my temples.</p> +<p>"You have had too much of it," said he.</p> +<p>I looked up at him and tried to speak, but said nothing. Great +pain followed every breath. My back seemed on fire.</p> +<p>The Doctor wanted to remove me to his own hospital tent, but +dreaded that I was too ill. Yet there was no privacy, the hut being +occupied by four men. Dr. Khayme found means to get rid of all my +messmates except Willis; they were crowded into other quarters. The +surgeon of the Eleventh had given the Doctor free course.</p> +<p>For two weeks Willis nursed me faithfully. Dr. Khayme came every +day--on some days several times. Lydia never came.</p> +<p>One bright day, near the end of February, I was placed in a +litter and borne by four men to the Doctor's hospital tent. My +father came. This was the first time he and Dr. Khayme met. They +became greatly attached.</p> +<p>My progress toward health, was now rapid. Willis was with me +whenever he was not on duty. The Doctor's remedies gave way to +simple care, in which Lydia was the chief priest. Lydia would read +to me at times--but for short times, as the Doctor forbade my +prolonged attention, I was not quite sure that Lydia was doing me +good; I liked the sound of her voice, yet when she would cease +reading I felt more nervous than before, and I could not remember +what she had read. So far as I could see, there was no +understanding between Lydia and Willis; yet it was very seldom that +I saw them together.</p> +<p>One evening, after the lamps were lighted, my father told us +that he would return home on the next day. "Jones is in good +hands," said he, "and my business demands my care; I shall always +have you in remembrance, Doctor; you have saved my boy."</p> +<p>The Doctor said nothing. I was sitting up in bed, propped with +pillows and blankets.</p> +<p>"The Doctor has always been kind to me, Father," said I; "ever +since he received the letter you wrote him in Charleston, he has +been my best friend."</p> +<p>"The letter I wrote him? I don't remember having written him a +letter," said my father.</p> +<p>"You have forgotten, Father," said I; "you wrote him a letter in +which you told him that you were sure he could help me. The Doctor +gave me the letter; I have it at home, somewhere."</p> +<p>The Doctor was silent, and the subject was not continued.</p> +<p>Conversation began again, this time concerning the movements and +battles in the West. The Doctor said; "Jones, the news has been +kept from you. On February 6, General Grant captured Fort Henry, +which success led ten days later to the surrender of Buckner's army +at Fort Donelson."</p> +<p>"The 6th of February, you say?" I almost cried; "that was the +last time I saw you before I got sick; on that very day you talked +about Grant's coming successes!"</p> +<p>"It did not need any great foresight for that," said the +Doctor.</p> +<p>"You said that Grant had the navy to help him, and that he +certainly would not fail."</p> +<p>"And it was the navy that took Fort Henry," said my father.</p> +<p>On the day following that on which my father left us, I was +sitting in a folding chair, trying to read for the first time since +my illness began.</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme entered, with a paper in his hand. "We'll go, my +boy," said he; "we'll go at once and avoid the crowd."</p> +<p>"Go where, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"To Fort Monroe," said he.</p> +<p>"Go to Fortress Monroe, and avoid the crowd?"</p> +<p>"Yes, we'll go."</p> +<p>"What are we going there for?"</p> +<p>"Don't you remember that I thought of going there?"</p> +<p>"When was it that you told me, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"On the night before you became ill. I told you that if General +McClellan could have his way, he would transfer the army to Fort +Monroe, and advance on Richmond by the Peninsular route."</p> +<p>"Yes, I begin to remember."</p> +<p>"Well, President Lincoln has yielded to General McClellan's +urgent arguments; the movement will be begun as soon as +transportation can be provided for such an operation; it will take +weeks yet."</p> +<p>"And you are going to move down there?"</p> +<p>"Yes, before the army moves; this is your written authority to +go with me; don't you want to go?"</p> +<p>"Yes; that I do," said I.</p> +<p>"The spring is earlier down there by at least two weeks," said +the Doctor; "the change will mean much to you; you will be ready +for duty by the time your regiment comes."</p> +<p>Lydia was not in the tent while this conversation was going on, +but she came in soon afterward, and I was glad to see that she was +certainly pleased with the prospect of moving. Her eyes were +brighter. She began at once to get together some loose things, +although we had several days in which to make our preparations. I +could not keep from laughing at her; at the same time I felt that +my amusement was caused by her willingness to get away for a time +from the army, rather than by anything else.</p> +<p>"So you are in a hurry to get away," I said.</p> +<p>"I shall be glad to get down there," she replied, "and I have +the habit of getting ready gradually when we move. It saves worry +and fluster when the time comes." Her face was very bright.</p> +<p>"That is the longest speech you have made to me in a week," said +I.</p> +<p>She turned and looked full at me; then her expression changed to +severity, and she went out.</p> +<p>That night Willis came; before he saw me he had learned that we +were to go; he was very blank.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The 6th of March found us in camp in the Doctor's tents pitched +near Newport News. The weather was mild; the voyage had helped me. +I sat outside in the sunshine, enjoying the south wind. With the +help of the Doctor's arm or of Lydia's--given, I feared, somewhat +unwillingly--I walked a little. These were happy days; I had +nothing to do but to convalesce. The Southern climate has always +helped me. I was recovering fast.</p> +<p>I liked the Doctor more than ever, if possible. Every day we +talked of everything, but especially of philosophy, interesting to +both of us, though of course I could not pretend to keep pace with, +his advanced thought. We talked of the war, its causes, its +probable results.</p> +<p>"Jones, it matters not how this war shall end; the Union will be +preserved."</p> +<p>I had never before heard him make just this declaration, though +I had had intimations that such was his opinion. I was glad to hear +this speech. It seemed to place the Doctor in favour of the North, +and I felt relieved.</p> +<p>"Continue," I begged.</p> +<p>"You know that I have said many times that the war is +unnecessary; that all war is crime."</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Yet you know that I have maintained that slavery also is a +crime and must be suppressed."</p> +<p>"Yes, and I confess that you have seemed inconsistent."</p> +<p>"I know you think the two positions contradictory; but both +these views are sound and true. War is a crime; slavery is a crime: +these are two truths and they cannot clash. I will go farther and +say that the North is right and the South is right."</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are astonishing. You will find it hard to convince +me that both of these statements can be true."</p> +<p>"Well, are you ready to listen?"</p> +<p>"Ready and willing. But why is it that you say both sections are +right? Why do you not prove that they are both wrong? You are +speaking of crime, not virtue."</p> +<p>"Of course they are both wrong in the acts of which we are +speaking; but in regard to the principles upon which they seem to +differ, they are right, and these are what I wish to speak of."</p> +<p>"Well, I listen, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Then first let me say that the world is ruled by a higher power +than General McClellan or Mr. Jefferson Davis."</p> +<p>"Agreed."</p> +<p>"The world is ruled by a power that has far-reaching, even +eternal, purpose, and the power is as great as the purpose; the +power is infinite."</p> +<p>"I follow you."</p> +<p>"This power cannot act contrary to its own purpose, nor can it +purpose what it will not execute."</p> +<p>"Please illustrate, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Suppose God should purpose to make a world, and instead of +making a world should make a comet."</p> +<p>"He would not be God," said I, "unless the comet should happen +to be in a fair way of becoming a world."</p> +<p>"Exactly; to act contrary to His purpose would be caprice or +failure."</p> +<p>"Yes; I see, or think I do."</p> +<p>"Not difficult at all; I simply say that war is a crime and +slavery a crime. Two truths cannot clash."</p> +<p>"Then you mean to say that God has proposed to bring slavery +into existence, and war, also?"</p> +<p>"Not at all. What I mean to say in that His purpose overrules +and works beyond both. Man makes slavery, and makes war; God turns +them into means for advancing His cause."</p> +<p>"Perhaps I can understand, Doctor, that what you say is true. +But I do not see how the South can be right."</p> +<p>"What are all those crowds of people doing down on the battery?" +asked Lydia, suddenly.</p> +<p>It was about two o'clock. We had walked slowly toward the +beach.</p> +<p>"They are all looking in our direction," said Dr. Khayme; "they +see something that interests them."</p> +<p>Across the water in the southeast could be seen smoke, which the +wind blew toward us. Some officers upon a low sand-hill near us +were looking intently through their field-glasses.</p> +<p>"I'll go and find out," said the Doctor; "stay here till I +return."</p> +<p>We saw him reach the hill; one of the officers handed him a +glass; he looked, and came back to us rapidly.</p> +<p>"We are promised a spectacle; I shall run to my tent for a +glass," said he.</p> +<p>"What is it all about, Father?" asked Lydia.</p> +<p>"A Confederate war-vessel," said he, and was gone.</p> +<p>"I hope she will be captured," said I; "and I have no doubt she +will."</p> +<p>"You have not read the papers lately," said Lydia.</p> +<p>"No; what do you mean?"</p> +<p>"I mean that there are many rumours of a new and powerful iron +steamer which the Confederates have built at Norfolk," she +replied.</p> +<p>"Iron?"</p> +<p>"Yes, they say it is iron, or at least that it is protected with +iron, so that it cannot be injured."</p> +<p>"Well, if that is the case, why do we let our wooden ships +remain here?"</p> +<p>The Doctor now rejoined us. He handed me a glass. I could see a +vessel off toward Norfolk, seemingly headed in our direction. Lydia +took the glass, and exclaimed, "That must be the <i>Merrimac!</i> +what a strange-looking ship!"</p> +<p>The crowds on the batteries near Newport News and along the +shore were fast increasing. The Doctor said not a word; indeed, +throughout the prodigious scene that followed he was silent, and, +to all seeming, emotionless.</p> +<p>Some ships of-war were at anchor not far from the shore. With +the unaided eye great bustle could be seen on these ships; two of +them were but a very short distance from us.</p> +<p>The smoke in the south came nearer. I had walked and stood until +I needed rest; I sat on the ground.</p> +<p>Now, at our left, toward Fortress Monroe, we could see three +ships moving up toward the two which were near us.</p> +<p>The strange vessel come on; we could see a flag flying. The +design of the flag was two broad red stripes with a white stripe +between.</p> +<p>The big ship was nearer; her form was new and strange; a large +roof, with little showing above it. She seemed heading toward +Fortress Monroe.</p> +<p>Suddenly she swung round and came slowly on toward our two ships +near Newport News.</p> +<p>The two Federal ships opened their guns upon the rebel craft; +the batteries on shore turned loose on her.</p> +<p>Lydia put her hands to her ears, but soon took them away. She +was used to wounds, but had never before seen battle.</p> +<p>From above--the James River, as I afterward knew--now came down +some smaller rebel ships to engage in the fight, but they were too +small to count for much.</p> +<p>Suddenly the <i>Merrimac</i> fired one gun, still moving on +toward our last ship--the ship at the west; still she moved on, and +on, and on, and struck our ship with her prow, and backed.</p> +<p>The Union ships continued to fire; the batteries and gunboats +kept up their fire.</p> +<p>The big rebel boat turned and made for our second ship, which +was now endeavouring to get away. The <i>Merrimac</i> fired upon +her, gun after gun.</p> +<p>Our ship stuck fast, and could not budge, but she continued to +fire.</p> +<p>The ship which had been rammed began to lurch and at last she +sank, with her guns firing as she went down.</p> +<p>Lydia's face was the picture of desolation. Her lips parted. The +Doctor observed her, and drew his arm within her own; she sighed +heavily, but did not speak.</p> +<p>The rebel ship stood still and fired many times on our ship +aground; and white flags were at last seen on the Union vessel.</p> +<p>Now the small rebel ships approached the prize, but our shore +batteries, and even our infantry on shore, kept up a rapid fire to +prevent the capture. Soon the small ships steamed away, and the +great craft fired again and again into the surrendered vessel, and +set her afire.</p> +<p>Then still another Union ship took part in the contest; she also +was aground, yet she fought the rebel vessels.</p> +<p>The great ship turned again and steamed toward the south until +she was lost in the thickening darkness. Meanwhile, the burning +ship was a sheet of flame; we could see men leap from her deck; +boats put off from the shore.</p> +<p>"The play is over; let's go to supper," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"I want no food," said I.</p> +<p>"You must not stay in this air; besides, you will feel better +when you have eaten," he replied.</p> +<p>Lydia was silent; her face was wet with tears.</p> +<p>Groups of soldiers stood in our way; some were mad with +excitement, gesticulating and cursing; others were mute and white. +I heard one say, "My God! what will become of the <i>Minnesota</i> +to-morrow?"</p> +<p>The Doctor's face was calm, but tense. My heart seemed to have +failed.</p> +<p>The burning <i>Congress</i> threw around us a light brighter +than the moon; each of us had two shadows.</p> +<p>We sat down to supper, "Doctor," said I, "how can you be so +calm?"</p> +<p>"Why, my boy," he said, "I counted on such, long ago--and worse; +besides, you know that I believe everything will come right."</p> +<p>"What is to prevent the <i>Merrimac</i> from destroying our +whole fleet and then destroying our coast?"</p> +<p>"God!" said Dr. Khayme.</p> +<p>Lydia, kissed him and burst into weeping.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>So far as I can remember, I have passed no more anxious night in +my life than the night of the 8th of March, 1862. My health did not +permit me to go out of the tent; but from the gloomy rumours of the +camps I knew that my anxiety was shared by all. Strange, I thought, +that my experience in war should be so peculiarly disastrous. Bull +Run had been but the first horror; here was another and possibly a +worse one. The East seemed propitious to the rebels; Grant alone, +of our side, could gain victories.</p> +<p>The burning ship cast a lurid glare over land and sea; dense +smoke crept along the coast; shouts came to my ears--great effort, +I knew, was being made to get the <i>Minnesota</i> off; nobody +could have slept that night.</p> +<p>The Doctor made short absences from his camp. At ten o'clock he +came in finally; a smile was on his face. Lydia had heard him, and +now came in also.</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "what will you give me for good news?"</p> +<p>"Oh, Doctor," said I, "don't tantalize me."</p> +<p>Lydia was watching the Doctor's face.</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "I must make a bargain. If I tell you something +to relieve your fears, will you promise me to go to sleep?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I shall be glad to go to sleep; the quicker the +better."</p> +<p>"Well, then, the <i>Merrimac</i> will meet her match if she +comes out to-morrow."</p> +<p>"What do you mean, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"I mean that a United States war-vessel, fully equal to the +<i>Merrimac,</i> has arrived."</p> +<p>Lydia left the tent.</p> +<p>I almost shouted. I could no more go to sleep than I could fly. +I started to get out of bed. The Doctor put his hand on my head, +and gently pressed me back to my pillow.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="VIII"></a>VIII</h2> +<h3>THE TWO SOUTHS</h3> +<center>"Yet spake yon purple mountain,<br> + Yet said yon ancient wood,<br> +That Night or Day, that Love or Crime,<br> + Lead all souls to the Good."--EMERSON</center> +<br> +<p>About two in the morning I was awaked by a noise that seemed to +shake the world. The remainder of the night was full of troubled +dreams.</p> +<p>I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain. Two armies were +ranked against each other and fought and intermingled. The dress of +the soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in +the other army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no +soldier could say which flags were his. The men intermingled and +fought, and, not able to know enemy from friend, slew friend and +enemy, and slew until but two opponents remained; these two shook +hands, and laughed, and I saw their faces; and the face of one was +the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of the other I did not +know.</p> +<p>Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me. I had +dreamed true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were +false. In my ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I +had judged that it would be strange if among a thousand dreams not +one should prove true. So this dream passed for the time from my +mind.</p> +<p>We had breakfast early. The Doctor was always calm and grave. +Lydia looked anxious, yet more cheerful. There was little talk; we +expected a trial to our nerves.</p> +<p>After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried +one; we went to a sand-hill near the beach.</p> +<p>To the south of the <i>Minnesota</i> now lay a peculiar vessel. +No one had ever seen anything like her. She seemed nothing but a +flat raft with a big round cistern--such as are seen in the South +and West--amidships, and a very big box or barrel on one end.</p> +<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> was coming; there were crowds of spectators +on the batteries and on the dunes.</p> +<p>The <i>Monitor</i> remained near the <i>Minnesota</i>; the +<i>Merrimac</i> came on. From each of the iron ships came great +spouts of smoke, from each the sound of heavy guns. The wind drove +away the smoke rapidly; every manoeuvre could be seen.</p> +<p>The <i>Merrimac</i> looked like a giant by the side of the +other, but the other was quicker.</p> +<p>They fought for hours, the <i>Merrimac</i> slowly moving past +the <i>Monitor</i> and firing many guns, the <i>Monitor</i> turning +quickly and seeming to fire but seldom. Sometimes they were so near +each other they seemed to touch.</p> +<p>At last they parted; the <i>Monitor</i> steamed toward the +shore, and the great <i>Merrimac</i> headed southward and went away +into the distance.</p> +<p>Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in +our little group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling +was too deep; on the issue of the contest depended vast +results.</p> +<p>When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I +could not tell whether our side had won, but I know that the +<i>Merrimac</i> had hauled off without accomplishing her purpose; I +think that was all that any of us knew. At any moment I should not +have been astonished to see the <i>Merrimac</i> blow her little +antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my mind the fight had +been very unequal.</p> +<p>"And now," said the Doctor, as he led the way back to his camp, +"and now McClellan's army can come without fear."</p> +<p>"Do you think," I asked, "that the <i>Merrimac</i> is so badly +done up that she will not try it again?"</p> +<p>"Yes," he replied; "we cannot see or tell how badly she is +damaged; but of one thing we may feel sure, that is, that if she +could have fought longer with hope of victory, she would not have +retired; her retreat means that she has renounced her best +hope."</p> +<p>The dinner was cheerful. I saw Lydia eat for the first time in +nearly two days. She was still very serious, however. She had +become accustomed in hospital work to some of the results of +battle; now she had witnessed war itself.</p> +<p>After dinner the conversation naturally turned upon the part the +navy would perform in the war. The Doctor said that it was our +fleet that would give us a final preponderance over the South.</p> +<p>"The blockade," said he, "is as nearly effective as such a +stupendous undertaking could well be."</p> +<p>"It seems that the rebels find ways to break it at odd times," +said I.</p> +<p>"Yes, to be sure; but it will gradually become more and more +restrictive. The Confederates will be forced at length to depend +upon their own resources, and will be shut out from the world."</p> +<p>"But suppose England or France recognizes the South," said +Lydia.</p> +<p>"Neither will do so," replied her father, "England, especially, +thinks clearly and rightly about this war; England cares nothing +about states' rights or the reverse; the heart of England, though, +beats true on the slavery question; England will never recognize +the South."</p> +<p>"You believe the war will result in the destruction of slavery?" +I asked,</p> +<p>"Of racial slavery, yes; of all slavery, nominally. If I did not +believe that, I should feel no interest in this war."</p> +<p>"But President Lincoln has publicly announced that he has no +intention of interfering with slavery."</p> +<p>"He will be forced to interfere. This war ought to have been +avoided; but now that it exists, it will not end until the peculiar +institution of the South is destroyed. But for the existence of +slavery in the South, England would recognize the South. England +has no political love for the United States, and would not lament +greatly the dissolution of the Union. The North will be compelled +to extinguish slavery in order to prevent England from recognizing +the South. The Union cannot now be preserved except on condition of +freeing the slaves; therefore, Jones, I am willing to compromise +with you; I am for saving the Union in order to destroy slavery, +and you may be for the destruction of slavery in order to save the +Union!</p> +<p>"The Union is destroyed if secession succeeds; secession will +succeed unless slavery is abolished; it cannot be abolished by +constitutional means, therefore it will be abolished by usurpation; +you see how one crime always leads to another."</p> +<p>"But," said I, "you assume that the South is fighting for +slavery only, whereas her leaders proclaim loudly that she is +fighting for self-government."</p> +<p>"She knows that it would be suicidal to confess that she is +fighting for slavery, and she does not confess it even to herself. +But when we say 'the South,' let us be sure that we know what we +mean. There are two Souths. One is the slaveholding aristocracy and +their slaves; the other is the common people. There never was a +greater absurdity taught than that which Northern writers and +newspapers have spread to the effect that in the South there is no +middle class. The middle class <i>is</i> the South. This is the +South that is right and wholesome and strong. The North may defeat +the aristocracy of the South, and doubtless will defeat it; but +never can she defeat the true South, because the principle for +which the true South fights is the truth--at least the germ of +truth if not the fulness of it.</p> +<p>"The South is right in her grand desire and end; she is wrong in +her present and momentary experiment to attain that end. So also +the North is right in her desire, and wrong in her efforts.</p> +<p>"The true South will not be conquered; the aristocracy only will +go down. Nominally, that is to say in the eyes of unthinking men, +the North will conquer the South; but your existing armies will not +do it. The Northern idea of social freedom, unconscious and +undeveloped, must prevail instead of the Southern idea of +individual freedom; but how prevail? By means of bayonets? No; that +war in which ideas prevail is not fought with force. Artillery +accomplishes naught. I can fancy a battlefield where two great +armies are drawn up, and the soldiers on this side and on that side +are uniformed alike and their flags are alike, but they kill each +other till none remains, and nothing is accomplished except +destruction; yet the principle for which each fought remains, +though all are dead."</p> +<p>For a time I was speechless.</p> +<p>At length I asked, "But why do you imagine their uniforms and +flags alike?"</p> +<p>He replied, "Because flag and uniform are the symbols of their +cause, and the real cause, or end, of both, is identical."</p> +<p>"Doctor," I began; but my fear was great and I said no more.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="IX"></a>IX</h2> +<h3>KILLING TIME</h3> +<center>"Why, then, let's on our way in silent +sort."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were +spent with her father.</p> +<p>Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered +all my old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody +could say when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, +found roomy locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off +at Yorktown, and with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the +country up to our pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the +Doctor's company time would have been heavy on my hands.</p> +<p>About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but +no Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his +camp until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that +there would be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer +to Richmond.</p> +<p>On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was +willing to serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh +should come.</p> +<p>"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a +few days," he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the +troops now here are more than are needed, except for future work. +Besides, you might do better. You have good eyes, and a good memory +as long as it lasts; you might make a secret examination of the +Confederate lines."</p> +<p>"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"</p> +<p>"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."</p> +<p>"Well, think of it," said he.</p> +<p>"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I +exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did +not wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I +liked the thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning +the positions and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my +school days, and afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting +stories with, eagerness, and had worshipped his Witherspoon.</p> +<p>"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.</p> +<p>"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if +possible."</p> +<p>"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to +send you off properly."</p> +<p>When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by +the Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But +she said little, and I could only infer that she might be creating +in her brain false dangers for a friend.</p> +<p>By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything +was ready for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober +suit of gray clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might +deceive the eye at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate +the wearer from any suspicion that he was seriously offering +himself as a Confederate.</p> +<p>"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it +will fit you well enough."</p> +<p>It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, +purposely, had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave +me also a black felt hat.</p> +<p>"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I +answered.</p> +<p>"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial +things such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be +searched nothing can be proved. Leave all your money in bills +behind; coin will not be bad to take; here are a few Confederate +notes for you."</p> +<p>"Do I need a pass?"</p> +<p>"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the +Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; +I want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass +would betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it +will not be difficult to explain at headquarters."</p> +<p>"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"</p> +<p>"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't +know when you will get another meal."</p> +<p>At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and +reach before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, +which was believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry +Island, or Mulberry Point; I would then watch for opportunities, +and act accordingly, with the view of following up the rebel line, +or as near to it as possible.</p> +<p>I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon +outside the guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due +north by the Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was +glad of it. The stars gave me enough light. My road was good, +level, sandy--a lane between two rail fences almost hidden with +vines and briers. At my left and behind me I could hear the roar of +the surf.</p> +<p>When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead, +I stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our +men, or rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into +a fence corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I +waited until they had passed out of sight, and then rose to +continue my tramp, when suddenly, before I had made a step, another +horseman rode by, following the others. If he had looked in my +direction, he would have seen me; but he passed on with his head +straight to the front. I supposed that this last man was on duty as +the rear of the squad.</p> +<p>Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The +party of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, +and that I should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely +cautious in going forward, not knowing how soon I might run against +some scouting party of the rebels.</p> +<p>The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy +and mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small +growth. The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from +studying the map before I had set out I had some idea of the +general character of the country at my right, as well as a pretty +accurate notion of the distance I must make before I should come +near to the first rebel post; though, of course, I could not know +that such post had not been abandoned, or advanced even, within the +last few hours.</p> +<p>I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and +straight ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My +senses were alert; I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I +felt that I was alone and dependent upon myself, but the feeling +was not greatly oppressive.</p> +<p>Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence +running at a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not +continued to the left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence +was the junction of the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly +seen before I started that at this junction there was danger of +finding a rebel outpost, or of falling upon a rebel scouting party, +I now became still more cautious, moving along half bent on the +edge of the road, and at last creeping on my hands and knees until +I reached the junction.</p> +<p>There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward +Little Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found +nothing, and returned to the junction; then continued up the road +toward Young's Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited +frequently by the rebels, and my attention became so fixed that I +started at the slightest noise. The sand's crunching under my feet +sounded like the puffing of a locomotive. The wind made a slight +rippling with the ends of the tie on my hat-band, I cut the ends +off, to be relieved of the distraction.</p> +<p>I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as +well as to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to +Bethel, at my rear and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk +into a fence corner, and lay perfectly still, listening with all my +ears. The noise increased; it was clear that horsemen from the +Bethel road were coming into the junction, a hundred yards in my +rear.</p> +<p>The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.</p> +<p>But <i>had</i> they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down +the road toward Newport News.</p> +<p>Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the +hoof-beats of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into +my fence corner and lay flat and still.</p> +<p>It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when +life is about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant +all the deeds of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know, +at least, that my mind had many thoughts in the situation in which +I now found myself.</p> +<p>I felt sure that the party advancing on the road behind me were +rebels.</p> +<p>They were now but a few yards off.</p> +<p>An instant more, and they would pass me, or else they would +discover me.</p> +<p>If I should spring to my feet and run up the road, the horsemen +would ride me down at once.</p> +<p>If I should climb the fence, my form, outlined against the sky, +would be a mark for many carbines.</p> +<p>If I should lie still, they might pass without seeing me.</p> +<p>But what could I expect from my companion?</p> +<p>Who was he? ... Why was he there? ... Had he seen me? ... Had +the rebels, if indeed they were rebels, seen him? ... If so, were +they pursuing him?</p> +<p>But no; they were not pursuing him, for he had come from the +direction of Young's Mill. He would have met the horsemen had he +not hidden.</p> +<p>If I could but know that he had seen me, my plan surely would be +to lie still.</p> +<p>Yes, certainly, to lie still ... if these riders were +rebels.</p> +<p>But to lie still if my companion was a friend to the rebels? If +he was one of theirs, should I lie still?</p> +<p>No; certainly not, unless I preferred being taken to being shot +at.</p> +<p>If the horsemen were Union troops, what then? Why, in that case, +my unknown friend must be a rebel; and if I should decide to let +the troops pass, I should be left unarmed, with a rebel in two feet +of me.</p> +<p>Yet, if the cavalry were our men, and the fugitive a rebel, +still the question remained whether he had seen me.</p> +<p>It seemed impossible for him not to see me. Could he think I was +a log? Certainly not; there was no reason for a log to be in such a +place; there were no trees large enough, and near enough to justify +the existence of a log in this place.</p> +<p>All these thoughts, and more also, passed through my mind while +the horsemen moved ten paces; and before they had moved ten paces +more, I had come to a decision.</p> +<p>I had decided to lie still.</p> +<p>There could be but one hope: if I should run, I could not get +away. I would lie still. If the unknown should prove to be a +friend, my case might be better than before; if he should prove to +be an enemy, I must act prudently and try to befool him. I must +discover his intentions before making mine known. He, also, must be +in a great quandary.</p> +<p>The horsemen passed. They passed so near that I could have told +whether they were from the North or the South by their voices, but +they did not speak.</p> +<p>There was not enough light for me to see their uniforms, and, +indeed, I did not look at them, but instinctively kept my face to +the ground.</p> +<p>The horsemen passed on up the road toward Young's Mill.</p> +<p>Now there was silence. I yet lay motionless. So did my +companion. I was right in one thing; he knew of my presence, else +he would now rise and go his way. He knew of my presence, yet he +did not speak; what was the matter with him?</p> +<p>But why did not I speak? I concluded that he was fearing me, +just as I was fearing him.</p> +<p>But why should he fear me, when, he could not doubt that I was +hiding from the same persons whom he had shunned to meet?</p> +<p>But I was there first; he had not known that I was there; his +hiding in a fence corner was deliberate, in order to escape the +observation of the horsemen; his hiding in this particular fence +corner was an accident.</p> +<p>Who is he? What is he thinking about, that he doesn't do +something? He has no reason to fear me.</p> +<p>But fear has no reason. If he is overcome with fear, he dreads +everything. He has not recovered from the fright the horsemen gave +him.</p> +<p>But why do I not speak? Am I so overcome with fear that I cannot +speak to a man who flees and hides? I <i>will</i> speak to +him--</p> +<p>"Mahsa," said he, humbly, right in my ear.</p> +<p>I sat bolt upright; so did he.</p> +<p>"Speak low," said I; "tell me who you are."</p> +<p>"Who, me?"</p> +<p>"Yes, you; what is your name?"</p> +<p>"My name Nick."</p> +<p>"What are you doing here?"</p> +<p>"Who, me?"</p> +<p>"Yes, you; what are you doing here?"</p> +<p>"I'se des' a-restin', mahsa; I'se mighty tired."</p> +<p>"You are hiding from the soldiers."</p> +<p>"What sojers, mahsa?"</p> +<p>Clearly Nick was no simpleton; he was gaining time; he might not +yet know which side I belonged to. I must end this matter. The +night was cool. I had no blanket or overcoat. While walking I had +been warm, but now I was getting chilly.</p> +<p>Yet, after all, suppose Nick was not a friend. However, such, a +supposition was heterodox; every slave must desire freedom; a slave +who does not wish to be free is an impossibility.</p> +<p>"Who were the soldiers who rode by just now?"</p> +<p>"I dunno, mahsa."</p> +<p>"Then, why did you hide from them?"</p> +<p>"Who, me?"</p> +<p>"Yes; why did you run and hide?"</p> +<p>"De s'caze I dunno who dey is."</p> +<p>This was very simple; but it did not relieve the complication. I +must be the first to declare myself.</p> +<p>"Were they not--" I checked myself in time, I was going to say +rebels, but thought better of it; the word would declare my +sympathies. I was not so ready, after all.</p> +<p>"W'at dat you gwine to say, mahsa?"</p> +<p>Neither was Nick ready to speak first; he was a quick-witted +negro.</p> +<p>"I was going to ask if they were Southern soldiers."</p> +<p>"You dunno who dey is, mahsa?"</p> +<p>Yes; Nick was sharp; I must be discreet now, and wary--more so. +I knew that many Confederate officers had favourite slaves as camp +servants, slaves whom they thought so attached to them as to be +trustworthy. Who could know, after all, that there were no +exceptions amongst slaves? My doubts became so keen that I should +not have believed Nick on his oath. He might tell me a lie with the +purpose of leading me into a rebel camp. I must get rid of him +somehow.</p> +<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, "is you got any 'bacco?"</p> +<p>"No" said I; then, "yes, I have some smoking tobacco."</p> +<p>"Dat's mighty good hitse'f; won't you please, sa', gimme a +little?"</p> +<p>I was not a smoker, but I knew that there was a little loose +tobacco in one of my pockets; how it came to be there I did not +know.</p> +<p>"Thankee; mahsa; dis 'bacoo makes me bleeve you is a--" Nick +hesitated,</p> +<p>"A what?"</p> +<p>"A good man," said Nick.</p> +<p>"Nick," I said, "I want to go up the road."</p> +<p>"W'at fur you gwine up de road, mahsa?"</p> +<p>"I want to see some people up there."</p> +<p>Nick did not reply. Could he fear that I was wanting to take him +into the Southern lines? It looked so.</p> +<p>The thought almost took away any fear I yet had that he might +betray me. His hesitation was assuring.</p> +<p>I repeated, "I want to see--I mean I want to look at--some +people up the road."</p> +<p>"Dem sojers went up the road des' now, mahsa."</p> +<p>"Do you think they will come back soon?"</p> +<p>"I dunno, mahsa; maybe dey will en' maybe dey won't."</p> +<p>"Didn't you come from up the road?"</p> +<p>"Mahsa, how come you ain't got no gun?"</p> +<p>This threatened to be a home-thrust; but I managed to parry it; +and to give him as good.</p> +<p>"Do Southern officers carry guns?"</p> +<p>"You Southern officer, mahsa?"</p> +<p>"Southern officers carry swords and pistols," said I; "didn't +you know that, Nick?"</p> +<p>"Mahsa," said Nick, very seriously.</p> +<p>"What is it, Nick?"</p> +<p>"Mahsa, fo' God you ain't no Southern officer."</p> +<p>"What makes you think so, Nick?"</p> +<p>"Caze, of you was a Southern officer you wouldn't be a-gwine on +lak you is; you 'ud des' say, 'Nick, you dam black rascal, git back +to dem breswucks on' to dat pick en' to dat spade dam quick, or +I'll have you strung up;' dat's w'at you'd say."</p> +<p>Unless Nick was intentionally fooling me, he was not to be +feared. He was willing for me to believe that he had run away from +the Confederates.</p> +<p>"But suppose I don't care whether you get back or not; there are +enough niggers working on the fortifications without you. I'd like +to give you a job of a different sort," said I, temptingly.</p> +<p>"W'at dat job you talkin' 'bout, mahsa?"</p> +<p>"I want you to obey my orders for one day,"</p> +<p>"W'at I hatto do, mahsa?"</p> +<p>"Go up the road with me," said I.</p> +<p>Nick was silent; my demand did not please him; yet if he wanted +to betray me to the rebels, now was his chance. I interpreted his +silence to mean that he wanted to go down the road, that is to say, +that he wanted, to make his way to the Union army and to freedom. I +felt so sure of this that I should not have been surprised if he +had suddenly set out running down the road; yet I supposed that he +was still in doubt of my character and feared a pistol-shot from +me. He was silent so long that I fully made up my mind that I could +trust him a little.</p> +<p>"Nick," said I, "look at my clothes. I am neither a Southern +officer nor a Northern officer. I know what you want: you want to +go to Fortress Monroe. You shall not go unless you serve me first; +if you serve me well, I will help you in return. Go with me for one +day, and I'll make it worth your while."</p> +<p>"W'at you want me to go wid you fer? W'at I hatto do?"</p> +<p>"Guide me," said I; "show me the way to the breastworks; show me +how to see the breastworks and not be seen myself."</p> +<p>"Den w'at you gwine do fer me?"</p> +<p>It amused me to see that Nick had dropped his "mahsa." Did he +think it out of place, now that he knew I was not a Southern +soldier?</p> +<p>"Nick, I will give you a dollar for your day's work; then I will +give you a note to a friend of mine, and the note will bring you +another dollar and a chance to make more."</p> +<p>Nick considered. The dollar was tempting; as to the note, the +sequel showed that he did not regard it of any importance, finally, +he said that if I would make it two dollars he would be my man, I +felt in my pockets, and found about four dollars, I thought, and at +once closed the bargain.</p> +<p>"Now; Nick," said I, "here is a dollar; go with me and be +faithful, and I will give you another before dark to-morrow."</p> +<p>"I sho' do it," said Nick, heartily; "now w'at I hatto do?"</p> +<p>"Where is the first Confederate post?"</p> +<p>"You mean dem Southern sojers?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You mean dem dat's do fust a-gwine <i>up</i> de road, or dem +dat's fust a-comin' <i>down</i> de road?"</p> +<p>"The nearest to us in this direction," said I, pointing.</p> +<p>"Dey is 'bout half a mile up dis road," said Nick.</p> +<p>"Did you see them?"</p> +<p>"I seed 'em fo' true, but dey didn't see me."</p> +<p>"How did you keep them from seeing you?"</p> +<p>"I tuck to do bushes; ef dey see me, dey string me up."</p> +<p>"How long ago was it since you saw them?"</p> +<p>"Sence sundown," said Nick,</p> +<p>"When did you leave the breastworks?"</p> +<p>"Las' night."</p> +<p>"And you have been a whole day and night getting here?"</p> +<p>"In de daytime I laid up," said Nick; "caze I dunno w'en I might +strak up wid 'em."</p> +<p>"How far have you come in all?"</p> +<p>"'Bout 'leben or ten mile, I reckon. I laid up in de Jim Riber +swamp all day."</p> +<p>"Did you have anything to eat?"</p> +<p>"Yassa; but I ain't got nothin' now no mo'."</p> +<p>"Do you know where we can get anything to eat to-morrow?"</p> +<p>"Dat I don't; how is we a-gwine to hole out widout sum'hm to +eat?"</p> +<p>"We must risk it. I hope we shall not suffer."</p> +<p>"Dis country ain't got nothin' in it," said Nick; "de folks is +almos' all done gone to Richmon' er summers<a name= +"FNanchor1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1">[1]</a> en' I don't know w'at +we's a-gwine to do; I don't. I don't know w'at we's a-gwine to do +fer sum'hm to eat. And I don't know w'at I's a-gwine to do fer +'bacco nudda."</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor1">[1]</a> +Somewhere [Ed.].</blockquote> +<p>"Well, Nick, I can give you a little more tobacco; but I expect +you to find something to eat; if you can find it, I will pay for +it."</p> +<p>We were wasting time; I wanted to make a start.</p> +<p>"Now, Nick" said I; "I want to go to Young's Mill, or as near it +as I can get without being seen."</p> +<p>"Dat all you want to do?" asked Nick.</p> +<p>"No; I want to do that first; then I want to see the +breastworks. First, I want to go to Young's Mill."</p> +<p>"W'ich Young's Mill?" asked Nick; "dey is two of 'em."</p> +<p>"Two?"</p> +<p>"Yassa; one Young's Mill is by de chu'ch on de Worrick road; de +yudda one is de ole Young's Mill fudda down on de creek."</p> +<p>"I want the one on the Warwick road," said I.</p> +<p>"Den dat's all right," said Nick; "all you got to do is to keep +dis straight road."</p> +<p>"But we must not show ourselves," said I.</p> +<p>"Don't you fret about dat; I don't want nobody to see me nudda; +des' you follow me."</p> +<p>Nick left the road, I following. We went northeast for half a +mile, then northwest for a mile or more, and found ourselves in the +road again.</p> +<p>"Now we's done got aroun' 'em," said Nick; "we's done got aroun' +de fust ones; we's done got aroun' 'em; dis is twicet I's done got +aroun' 'em, 'en w'en I come back I's got to git aroun' 'em +agin."</p> +<p>"How far is it to Young's Mill, Nick?"</p> +<p>"I 'spec' hit's 'bout fo' mile," said Nick.</p> +<p>We were now within the rebel lines, and my capture might mean +death. We went on, always keeping out of the road. Nick led the way +at a rapid and long stride, and I had difficulty in keeping him in +sight. The night was getting cold, but the walk heated me. Here and +there were dense clumps of small trees; at the little watercourses +there was larger growth. The roar of the sea was heard no longer. +It must have been about midnight.</p> +<p>We came upon swampy ground; just beyond it a road crossed +ours.</p> +<p>"Stop a little, Nick," said I.</p> +<p>Nick came to a halt, and we talked in low tones; we could see a +hundred yards in every direction.</p> +<p>"Where does that road go?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Dat road," said Nick, pointing to the left; "hit goes to ole +Young's Mill."</p> +<p>"How far is old Young's Mill?"</p> +<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p> +<p>"Where does the right-hand lead?"</p> +<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick; "en' at Mis +Cheeseman's dey is calvry, on' at ole Young's Mill dey is calvry, +but dey is on de yudda side o' de creek."</p> +<p>"How far is it to Mrs. Cheeseman's?"</p> +<p>"I dunno ezackly; I reckon 'bout fo' mile."</p> +<p>We went on. The ground was again swampy. We came to a road +running almost west; a church stood on the other side of the +road.</p> +<p>"Dat's Danby Chu'ch," said Nick, "en' dat road hit goes to +Worrick."</p> +<p>"And where does the right-hand lead?"</p> +<p>"Hit goes to Mis Cheeseman's," said Nick.</p> +<p>"And where is Young's Mill?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Hit's right on dis same road we's on, en not fur off, +nudda."</p> +<p>We had now almost reached my first objective. I knew that Nick +was telling me the truth, in the main, for the plan of the map was +still before my mind's eye.</p> +<p>"Can we get around Young's Mill without being seen?" I +asked.</p> +<p>"Dey's a picket-line dis side," said Nick.</p> +<p>"How far this side?"</p> +<p>"'Bout a quauta' en' a ha'f a quata.'"</p> +<p>"How near can we get to the picket-line?"</p> +<p>"We kin git mos' up to 'em, caze dey's got de trees cut +down."</p> +<p>"The trees cut down in their front?"</p> +<p>"Yassa; dey's got mos' all de trees out down, so dey is."</p> +<p>"And we can get to this edge of the felled timber?"</p> +<p>"Yassa; we kin git to de falled timba', but we's got to go roun' +de pon'."</p> +<p>"And if we go around the pond first; we shall then find the +picket-line?"</p> +<p>"De picket-line at Young's Mill?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Ef we gits roun' de pon', we'll be done got roun' de +picket-line, en' de trees w'at dey cut down, en' Young's Mill, en' +all."</p> +<p>"Well, then, Nick, lead the way around the pond, and keep your +eyes wide open."</p> +<p>Nick went forward again, but more slowly for a while; then he +turned to the right, through the woods. We went a long distance and +crossed a creek on a fallen log. I found that this negro could see +in the darkness a great deal better than I could; where I should +have groped my way, had I been alone, he went boldly enough, +putting his foot down flat as though he could see where he was +stepping. Nick said that there were no soldiers in these woods and +swamps; they were all on the road and at Young's Mill, now a mile +at our left.</p> +<p>At length we reached the road again. By this time I was very +tired; but, not wanting to confess it, I said to Nick that we +should wait by the side of the road for a while, to see if any +soldiers should pass. We sat in the bushes; soon Nick was on his +back, asleep, and I was not sorry to see him go to sleep so +quickly, for I felt sure that he would not have done so if he had +meant to betray me.</p> +<p>I kept awake. Only once did I see anything alarming. A single +horseman came down the road at a leisurely trot, and passed on, his +sabre rattling by his side. When the sound of the horse's hoofs had +died away, I aroused Nick, and we continued west up the road. At +last Nick stopped.</p> +<p>"What's the matter now, Nick?" I whispered.</p> +<p>"We's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he said.</p> +<p>"Again? Have we gone wrong?"</p> +<p>"We ain't gone wrong--but we's mos' up on dem pickets ag'in," he +repeated.</p> +<p>"Where are we?"</p> +<p>"We's gittin' mos' to Worrick; ef we gits up to de place, den +w'at you gwine to do?"</p> +<p>"I want to stay there till daylight, so that I can see them and +know how many they are."</p> +<p>"Den w'at you gwine to do?"</p> +<p>"Then I want to follow their line as near as I can, going toward +Yorktown."</p> +<p>"Den all I got to say is dat hit's mighty cole to be a-layin' +out in de woods widout no fiah en' widout no kiver en' widout +noth'n' to eat."</p> +<p>"That's true, Nick; do you know of any place where we could get +an hour or two of sleep without freezing?"</p> +<p>"Dat's des' w'at I was a-gwine to say; fo' God it was; ef dat's +w'at you gwine to do; come on."</p> +<p>He led the way again, going to the left. We passed through +woods, then a field, and came to a farmhouse,</p> +<p>"Hold on. Nick," said I; "it won't do to go up to that +house."</p> +<p>"Dey ain't nobody dah," said Nick; "all done runned off to +Richmon' er summers."</p> +<p>The fences were gone, and a general air of desolation marked the +place.</p> +<p>Nick went into an outhouse--a stable with a loft--- and climbed +up into the loft. I climbed up after him. There was a little loose +hay in the loft; we speedily stretched ourselves. I made Nick +promise to be awake before sunrise, for I feared the place would be +visited by the rebels.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="X"></a>X</h2> +<h3>THE LINE OF THE WARWICK</h3> +<center>"Thus are poor servitors,<br> +While others sleep upon their quiet beds,<br> +Constrained to watch in darkness, rain, and cold."<br> +--Shakespeare.</center> +<br> +<p>When I lay down I was warm from walking, and went to sleep +quickly. When I awoke I was cold; in fact, the cold woke me.</p> +<p>I crept to the door of the stable and looked out; at my left the +sky was reddening. I aroused Nick, who might have slept on for +hours had he been alone.</p> +<p>The sun would soon warm us; but what were we to do for food? +Useless to search the house or kitchen or garden; everything was +bare. I asked Nick if he could manage in any way to get something +to eat. He could not; we must starve unless accident should throw +food in our way.</p> +<p>A flock of wild geese, going north, passed high. "Dey'll go a +long ways to-day," said Nick; "ain't got to stop to take on no wood +nor no water."</p> +<p>We bent our way toward the Warwick road. At the point where we +reached it, the ground was low and wet, but farther on we could see +dryer ground. We crossed the road and went to the low hills. From a +tree I could see the village of Warwick about a mile or so to the +west, with the road, in places, running east. There seemed to be no +movement going on. Nick was lying on the ground, moody and silent. +I had no more tobacco.</p> +<p>I came down from the tree and told Nick to lead the way through +the woods until we could get near the rebel pickets where their +line crossed the road.</p> +<p>About nine o'clock we were lying in the bushes near the edge of +felled timber, through an opening in which, ran the road at our +left. At long intervals a man would pass across the road where it +struck the picket-line.</p> +<p>Both from the map and from Nick's imperfect delivery of his +topographical knowledge I was convinced that the main rebel line +was behind the Warwick River, and that here was nothing but an +outpost; and I was considering whether it would not be best to turn +this position on the north, reach the river as rapidly as possible, +and make for Lee's Mill, which I understood was the rebel salient, +and see what was above that point, when I heard galloping in the +road behind us. Nick had heard the noise before it reached my +ears.</p> +<p>A rebel horseman dashed by; at the picket-line he stopped, and +remained a few moments without dismounting; then went on up the +road toward Warwick Court-House.</p> +<p>At once there was great commotion on the picket-line. We crept +up as near as we dared; men were hurrying about, getting their +knapsacks and falling into ranks. Now came a squadron of cavalry +from down the road; they passed through the picket-line, and were +soon lost to sight. Then the picket marched off up the road. Ten +minutes more and half a dozen cavalrymen came--the rear-guard of +all, I was hoping--and passed on.</p> +<p>The picket post now seemed deserted. Partly with the intention +of getting nearer the river, but more, I confess, with the hope of +appeasing hunger, Nick and I now cautiously approached the +abandoned line. We were afraid to show ourselves in the road, so we +crawled through the felled timber.</p> +<p>The camp was entirely deserted. Scattered here and there over +the ground were the remains of straw beds; some brush +arbours--improvised shelters--were standing; we found enough broken +pieces of hardtack to relieve our most pressing want.</p> +<p>I followed the line of felled timber to the north; it ended +within two hundred yards of the road.</p> +<p>"Nick," said I; "what is between us and the river in this +direction?" pointing northwest.</p> +<p>"Noth'n' but woods tell you git down in de bottom," said +Nick.</p> +<p>"And the bottom, is it cultivated? Is it a field?"</p> +<p>"Yassa; some of it is, but mos' of it ain't."</p> +<p>"Are there any more soldiers on this side of the river?"</p> +<p>"You mean 'long here?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, I dunno ezackly; I reckon dey is all gone now; but dey is +some mo' up on dis side, up higher, up on de upper head o' de +riber, whah Lee's Mill is."</p> +<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?"</p> +<p>"Hit's mos' fo' mile."</p> +<p>"How deep is the river above Lee's Mill?"</p> +<p>"Riber is deep down below de mill."</p> +<p>"Is the river deep here?" pointing west.</p> +<p>"Yassa; de tide comes up to Lee's Mill."</p> +<p>"Are there no Southern soldiers below Lee's Mill?"</p> +<p>"Dey goes down dat-away sometimes."</p> +<p>"Are there any breastworks below Lee's Mill?"</p> +<p>"Down at de mill de breswucks straks off to de Jim Riber up at +de Pint."</p> +<p>"Up at what Point?"</p> +<p>"Up at de Mulberry Pint."</p> +<p>"And right across the river here, there are no breastworks?"</p> +<p>"No, sa'; dey ain't no use to have 'em dah."</p> +<p>Feeling confident that the movements I had seen indicated the +withdrawal of at least some of the rebel outposts to their main +line beyond the Warwick, and that I could easily and alone reach +the river and follow it up--since the rebel line was on its other +bank or beyond--I decided to let Nick go.</p> +<p>"Nick," said I; "I don't believe I shall need you any more +now."</p> +<p>"You not a-gwine to gimme dat yudda dolla'?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; of course I shall pay you, especially if you will +attend closely to what I tell you; you are to serve me till night, +are you not?"</p> +<p>"Yassa."</p> +<p>"Well, I want you to go to the Union army at Newport News for +me. Will you do it?"</p> +<p>"Yassa."</p> +<p>"Now, Nick, you must look sharp on the road and not let the +rebels catch you."</p> +<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p> +<p>"And look sharp for the Union army, too; I hope you will meet +some Union soldiers; then you will be safe."</p> +<p>"I sho' look sharp," said Nick.</p> +<p>"I want you to carry a note for me to the Union soldiers."</p> +<p>"Yassa."</p> +<p>I wrote one word on a scrap of paper that I had picked up in the +rebel camp. I gave the paper to Nick.</p> +<p>"Throw this paper away if you meet any rebels; understand?"</p> +<p>"Yassa."</p> +<p>"When you meet Union soldiers, you must give this paper to the +captain."</p> +<p>"Yassa."</p> +<p>"The captain will ask you what this paper means, and you must +tell him that the Southern soldiers are leaving Warwick +Court-House, and that the paper is to let him know it."</p> +<p>"Yassa; I sho' do it; I won't do noth'n' but look sharp, en' I +won't do noth'n' but give dis paper to de cap'n."</p> +<p>"Then here is your other dollar, Nick. Good-by and good luck to +you."</p> +<p>Nick started off at once, and I was alone again.</p> +<p>My next objective was Lee's Mill, which I knew was on the +Warwick River some three miles above. Without Nick to help my wits, +my cautiousness increased, although I expected to find no enemy +until I was near the mill. I went first as nearly westward as I +could know; my purposes were to reach the river and roughly +ascertain its width and depth; if it should be, as Nick had +declared, unfordable in these parts, its depth would be sufficient +protection to the rebels behind it, and I would waste no time in +examining its course here. Through the undergrowth I crept, +sometimes on my hands and knees, and whenever I saw an opening in +the woods before me, I paused long and looked well before either +crossing or flanking it. After a while I reached heavy timber in +the low ground, which I supposed lay along the river. At my left +was a cleared field, unplanted as yet, and in the middle of the +field a dwelling with outhouses. I approached the house, screening +myself behind a rail fence. The house was deserted. I passed +through the yard. There was no sign of any living thing, except a +pig which scampered away with a loud snort of disapproval. The +house was open, but I did not enter it; the windows were broken, +and a mere glance showed me that the place had been stripped.</p> +<p>Again I plunged into the woods, and went rapidly toward the +river, for I began to fear that I had been rash in coming through +the open. Soon I struck the river, which here bent in a long curve +across the line of my march. The river was wide and deep.</p> +<p>At once I felt confidence in Nick's declarations. There could be +little need for Confederate fortifications upon the other side of +this unfordable stream.</p> +<p>It must have been about noon; I thought I heard firing far to my +rear, and wondered what could be going on back there.</p> +<p>Leaving the river, I directed my steps toward the northeast. So +long as I was in the woods I went as rapidly as I could walk, and +the country, even away from the river, was much wooded. My +knowledge of the map placed Lee's Mill northeast of Warwick, and +northeast I went, but for fully three hours I kept on and found no +river again. I felt sure that I had leaned too far to the east, and +was about to turn square to my left and seek the river, when I saw +before me a smaller stream flowing westward. I did not understand. +I knew that I had come a much greater distance than three miles; I +had crossed two large roads running north; this stream was not down +on the map. Suddenly the truth was seen; this stream was the +Warwick itself, and above Lee's Mill; here it was small, as Nick +had intimated.</p> +<p>I turned westward; I had come too far; there must be a great +angle in the river below me, and that angle must be at Lee's +Mill.</p> +<p>Not more than a hunched yards down the stream there was a dam, +seemingly a new dam made of logs and earth. At the time I could not +understand why it was there. On the other side of the water, which +seemed to be deep, though narrow; I could hear a drum beating. A +road, a narrow country road, ran seemingly straight into the water. +Only a few steps to my left there was an elbow of the road, I moved +to this elbow, keeping in the bushes, and looked down on the water. +There was no sign of a ferry; I could see the road where it left +the water on the other side, and I could see men passing back and +forth across the road some two or three hundred yards away.</p> +<p>For a long time I racked my brains before I understood the +meaning of this road's going into deep water. What could it mean? +Certainly there was a reason for it, and a strong reason. The +ordinary needs of the country would require a ferry, and there was +no ferry. I had looked long and closely, and was sure there was no +ferry, and was almost as sure that there never had been one. The +road before my eyes was untravelled; the ruts were weeks old, +without the sign of a fresh track since the last rains; the road +was not now used, that was a certainty.</p> +<p>When was this road used? ... The whole situation became clear; +the road had been a good road before the rebels came; when they +fortified their lines they rendered the road useless. They +destroyed the ford by building the dam below.</p> +<p>I made my way down the stream, little elated at my solution of +what at first had seemed a mystery, for I felt that Nick would have +told me offhand all about it.</p> +<p>In less than a mile I came to another road running into deep +water. Now, thought I, if my solution is correct, we shall shortly +see another dam, and it was not five minutes before I came in sight +of the second dam.</p> +<p>I climbed a tree near by; I could see portions of a line of +earthworks on the other side of the river. The line of works seemed +nearly straight, at least much more nearly so than the river was. +To attack the Confederate lines here would be absurd, unless our +troops could first destroy the dams and find an easy crossing.</p> +<p>By this time the middle of the afternoon had passed, and I was +famishing. I believed it impossible that I should be able to get +any food, and the thought made me still hungrier; yet I cast about +me to see if there was any way to get relief. I blamed myself for +not having brought food from camp. I had made up my mind to remain +this night near the river, as I could not get back to camp, seeing +that my work was not yet done, until the next day; so I must expect +many hours of sharp hunger unless I could find food.</p> +<p>I now felt convinced that on the rebel left there was a +continuous line of works behind the Warwick, from Lee's Mill up to +Yorktown, and all I cared to prove was whether that line had its +angle at the former place, as Nick had declared, and as seemed +reasonable to me from every consideration. I would, then, make my +way carefully down the river to Lee's Mill, and if possible finish +my work before sunset; but my hunger was so great that I thought it +advisable to first seek food. So, deferring my further progress +down the stream, I set out in an easterly direction by the road +which had crossed previously above the second dam, in the hope that +this road would lead me to some house where help could be found, +for I was now getting where risks must be run; food was my first +need.</p> +<p>However, I did not expose myself, but kept out of the road, +walking through this woods. My road was soon enlarged by another +road joining it, coming in from the north and seeming well worn +from recent use. I had been walking for nearly a mile when I heard +a noise behind me--clearly the noise of horses coming. I lay flat +behind a bush which grew by a fallen tree. Three +horsemen--rebels--passed, going southward. They passed at a walk, +and were talking, but their words could not be distinguished. The +middle man was riding a gray horse.</p> +<p>About half a mile, or perhaps less, farther on, the woods became +less dense, and soon I came to a clearing; in this clearing was +what the Southern people call a settlement, which consisted of a +small farmhouse with, a few necessary outbuildings.</p> +<p>Hitched to the straight rail fence that separated, the house +yard from the road, were three horses, one of them gray, with +saddles on their backs. I was not more than fifty yards distant +from the horses, and could plainly see a holster in front of one of +the saddles.</p> +<p>No sound came from the house. I lay down and watched and +listened. The evening was fast drawing on, and there were clouds in +the west, but the sun had not yet gone down, and there would yet be +an hour or two of daylight. I feared that my approach to Lee's Mill +must be put off till the morrow.</p> +<p>A woman came out of the house and drew a bucket of water at the +well in the yard. She then returned into the house, with her pail +of water. Now the sound of men's voices could be heard, and the +stamping of heavy foot within the house; a moment afterward three +men came out and approached the horses.</p> +<p>The woman was standing at the door; one of the men shaded his +eyes with his hand and looked toward the west, where a dazzling +cloud-edge barely hid the sun from view. He was looking directly +over my head; dropping his hand he said, "An hour high, yit." This +man was nearer to me than the others were. I could less distinctly +hear the words of the others, but when this one got near their +horses a conversation was held with the woman standing in the +doorway, and the voices on both sides were raised.</p> +<p>"Yes," said one of the men, preparing to mount the gray horse, +"yes, I reckin this is the last time we'll trouble you any +more."</p> +<p>"Your room's better'n your company," said the woman, whose +words, by reason of her shrill voice, as well as because she was +talking toward me, were more distinctly heard than the man's.</p> +<p>"Now don't be ungrateful," said the man, who by this time was +astride his horse; "you've not lost anything by me. If the Yanks +treat you as well as us, you may thank your God."</p> +<p>"Self-praise is half scandal," said the woman; "I'm willin' to +risk 'em if God sends 'em."</p> +<p>The man, turning his horse and riding after his two companions, +shouted back: "Hit's not God as is a sendin' 'em; hit's somebody +else!"</p> +<p>"You seem to be mighty well acquainted!" fired the woman, as a +parting shot.</p> +<p>When the man had overtaken his comrades at the turning of the +road, I had but little reluctance in going into the house. The +woman stared at me. My gray civilian clothes caught her eye; +evidently she did not know what to think of me. She said nothing, +and stood her ground in the middle of the floor.</p> +<p>I first asked for a drink of water; she pointed to the bucket, in +which there was a common gourd for a dipper. I quenched my thirst; +then I said; "Madam, I will pay you well if you will let me have +what cold food you have in the house."</p> +<p>"Did you see them men a-ridin' away from here jest now?" she +asked.</p> +<p>"I heard some voices," said I; "who were they?"</p> +<p>"They was some of our men; three of 'em; they et up most +ev'ything I had, so I hain't got much."</p> +<p>"See what there is," said I, "and please be as quick as you +can."</p> +<p>She went into another room, and speedily returned with a "pone" +of corn-bread.</p> +<p>"This is all they is," she said.</p> +<p>"Have you no potatoes? no bacon?"</p> +<p>"I've got some bacon," she said; "but it ain't cooked."</p> +<p>"Let me have a pound or two, anyway," said I.</p> +<p>She brought out a large piece of bacon. "My ole man's gone down +to Worrick to-day," she said, "an' won't be back tell night; an' +you soldiers, a-leavin' the country all at oncet, hit makes me feel +kinder skittish."</p> +<p>"Yes," said I; "I don't wonder at your alarm, for they say the +Yankees are coming. I don't suppose they will be here before +to-morrow, though--maybe not till the day after."</p> +<p>"Them other men said they was the last to go," she replied; "but +I reckin they didn't know you was a-comin' on behind 'em."</p> +<p>"No," said I; "if they had known I was coming, they wouldn't +have run off and left me so; I might have ridden behind one of +them. I don't suppose I can overtake them now, unless they stop +again."</p> +<p>"That you can't," said she; "they won't have no call to stop +tell they git to the camp, an' hit's jest this side of the +mill."</p> +<p>"How far is it to Lee's Mill?" I asked,</p> +<p>She looked at me suspiciously, and I feared that I had made a +mistake.</p> +<p>"Hit's not fur," she replied; "hain't you never been thar?"</p> +<p>"Not by this road," I answered. "How much shall I pay you?"</p> +<p>"Well, Mister, I don't know; set your own price."</p> +<p>I handed her a silver half-dollar. Her eyes fastened on me. I +had made another mistake.</p> +<p>"If that is not enough," said I, "you shall have more," showing +her a one-dollar Confederate note.</p> +<p>"Oh, this is a plenty," she replied; "but I was a-wonderin' to +see silver agin."</p> +<p>"I have kept a little for hard times," I said.</p> +<p>"You have? Well, the sight of it is cert'n'y good for sore +eyes."</p> +<p>"Can I reach Lee's Mill before dark?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Well, I reckin you kin, ef you walk fast enough," she said; +"anyhow, you kin git to the camp on this side."</p> +<p>"Well, good day, madam; I wish you well," said I.</p> +<p>"Good-by, Mister," she said.</p> +<p>I had already opened the gate, when I heard her come to the +door; she raised her voice a little, and said,--</p> +<p>"When you git to the big road, you'll be in a mile o' the +mill."</p> +<p>So long as I was in sight of the house I kept in the road, but +as soon as I got through the clearing, I struck off to the right +through the woods. I was seeking some hiding place where I could +eat and sleep.</p> +<p>When, early in the morning, I had seen the pickets retire from +the post near Warwick, I had thought that the rebels were all +withdrawing to their main lines; this thought had received some +corroboration from the firing heard in my rear later in the day; I +had believed the Union troops advancing behind me; but afterward I +had seen other rebels at the woman's house, and I now doubted what +I had before believed. Besides, it was clear from the woman's words +that there was a rebel post this side of Lee's Mill, and I was yet +in danger.</p> +<p>The woods wore dense. Soon I saw before me a large road running +west, the big road of which the woman had spoken, no doubt. I crept +up to it, and, seeing no one in either direction, ran across it, +and into the woods beyond. I went for half a mile or more, in a +southwest course, and found a spot where I thought I could spend +the night in safety. For fear of being detected I dug a hole, with +my knife, in the earth, and piled the loose earth around the hole; +then I lighted a fire of dry sticks at the bottom. Night had not +yet come, but it was very gloomy in this dense thicket surrounded +by woods; I had little fear that any reflection or smoke would +betray me, for the thicket was impenetrable to the view of any one +who should not come within two rods. I broiled my bacon and toasted +my bread, and though I fared very well, yet after eating I wanted +water and chose to remain thirsty rather than in the darkness to +search for a spring or a stream in the woods.</p> +<p>I quenched the fire with the loose earth; I raked up leaves with +my hands and made a bed. I had no covering, but the night was not +cold, threatening rain, and the thicket sheltered me from the +wind.</p> +<p>Some time in the night I awoke to find that I had dreamed of +lying in a mountain brook with my mouth up stream and the water +running through my whole body. My mouth was parched. I must have +water at any risk.</p> +<p>I set out in I know not what direction. I had put the remains of +my supper into my coat pocket, for my judgment told me that in all +likelihood I could never return to the spot I was leaving.</p> +<p>Before I had been walking ten minutes, I knew that I was +completely lost; I went through thickets and briers, over logs and +gullies, round and round, I suspect, for hour in and hour out, +until just before day I saw the reflection of fire through the +woods, and at the same time almost fell into a small pool. It was +the reflection of the light by the pool which at once showed me the +water and saved me from finding it with a sense other than +sight.</p> +<p>I drank and drank again; then I wondered what the fire meant. +Although it seemed far off, I was afraid of it; likely enough it +was some rebel camp-fire; I had no idea whither I had wandered, I +turned my back on the light, and walked until I could see it no +more; then I stretched myself under a tree, but could not sleep. +Day was coming.</p> +<p>After a while it began to rain, and I had a most uncomfortable +time of it. It required considerable effort of will on my part to +determine to move, for I did not know which way to start. I set +out, however, and had gone a short distance, when I noticed the +green moss at the root of a large tree, and I remembered that I had +read in stories of Indians and hunters that such moss always grows +on the north side of the trees. So I then turned westward, for I +knew that I had crossed no road in my wanderings of the night, and +I also knew that the main road from Warwick Court-House to Lee's +Mill was at the west. A little at my left I saw a great tree with a +sloping trunk, and I went to it for shelter; it was raining harder. +When I reached the tree I saw a road just beyond. I sat under the +tree, the inclined trunk giving me shelter from the rain and hiding +me from the road. While eating the remains of my supper, I heard +the tramp of horses, and looking out cautiously, saw a company of +rebel cavalry going northward at a trot. At the same time I could +distinctly hear skirmish firing behind me, not half a mile off, +seemingly. The rain still fell and I held my place.</p> +<p>All at once I saw two men in the road; they were Union +soldiers--infantry--skirmishers.</p> +<p>Before I could speak to them I was aware of the fact that an +advancing line of our skirmishers was on either side of me.</p> +<p>"Hello, here!" cried one of them; "who are <i>you?</i>"</p> +<p>"Keep your place in line, Private Lewis," said an officer, +coming up, "I'll attend to that man."</p> +<p>"Privates Jones and George, halt! Skirmishers, fill intervals to +the right!"</p> +<p>Two men came to the lieutenant.</p> +<p>"Who <i>are</i> you, sir?" asked the lieutenant.</p> +<p>"Private Berwick, Eleventh Massachusetts," said I.</p> +<p>"Do you know anything of the enemy? Speak quick!"</p> +<p>"They are this side of Lee's Mill, Lieutenant, but I got lost in +the night, and I don't even know where I am now. About fifty of +their cavalry went by ten minutes ago."</p> +<p>The line went on in the rain.</p> +<p>The lieutenant placed me in charge of the two men, ordering them +to take me at once to the rear, and to report to General Davidson. +I have never learned the name of that lieutenant; he had some good +qualities.</p> +<p>Meanwhile a sharp skirmish was going on in front, and our line +did not seem to advance. A section of artillery dashed by. I began +to understand that, if I had gone on a few hundred yards, I should +have run upon the enemy in force.</p> +<p>I was brought before General Davidson. He was on horse, at the +head of his brigade. He asked me my name.</p> +<p>"Jones Berwick, General," said I.</p> +<p>"What is your business?"</p> +<p>"I am a private, sir, in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p> +<p>He smiled at this; then he asked, still smiling, "Where is your +regiment?"</p> +<p>"It is in camp below Washington, General, I suppose; at least, +it had not reached Newport News on the evening of the day before +yesterday."</p> +<p>"How is it that you are here while your regiment is still near +Washington?"</p> +<p>"I had surgeon's leave to precede my regiment on account of my +health, General."</p> +<p>"And this is the way you take care of your health, is it, by +lying out in the woods in the rain?"</p> +<p>"It was a month ago, General, that the surgeon dismissed me, and +I am now fully recovered."</p> +<p>General Davidson looked serious. "You were at Newport News on +day before yesterday?"</p> +<p>"I was near Newport News, sir, at the Sanitary camp. General +McClellan had just arrived at Fortress Monroe; so I heard before I +left."</p> +<p>"And what are you doing here? I think you have the Southern +accent."</p> +<p>"I have been told so before, General; but I am not a Southerner; +I came out to observe the rebel lines."</p> +<p>"By whose authority?"</p> +<p>Now, I could have told General Davidson that I had had a pass, +signed by such an officer; but I feared to do so, lest some +complication should arise which would give trouble to such an +officer, for Dr. Khayme had not fully informed me about my +privileges.</p> +<p>"It was only a private enterprise, General."</p> +<p>"Tell me all about it," he said.</p> +<p>I said briefly that, on the day before, I had passed up the +Warwick River; and that the main line of the enemy lay behind it; +that the fords had been destroyed by dams, and that there were no +rebels on this side of the river now, in my opinion, except +pickets, and possibly a force just in front of Lee's Mill.</p> +<p>"But do you not hear the rebel artillery now?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I think, General, that the rebel artillery is firing from the +other side of the river, but I admit that I am not sure of it. +Night came on me yesterday before I could reach Lee's Mill, and I +have nothing but hearsay in regard to that place."</p> +<p>"What have you heard?"</p> +<p>I told him what the woman had said.</p> +<p>"What proof can you give me that you are not deceiving me?" he +asked sternly.</p> +<p>"I do not know, General," said I, "that I can give you any +proof; I wish I could; perhaps you can so question me as to satisfy +you."</p> +<p>The general sent a courier to the front. He then wrote a line on +a piece of paper, and handed the note to another courier, who +rushed off to the rear. In a few minutes an officer rode up from +the rear; he saluted General Davidson, who spoke earnestly to him +in a low tone. I could easily guess that he was speaking of me.</p> +<p>Then, the officer approached me, and asked many questions about +my service:--where I was from--where was my regiment from--who was +its colonel--who was my captain--how I had come to the army ahead +of my regiment, etc. To all these questions I gave brief and quick +replies. Then the officer asked for a detailed account of my scout, +which I gave him in as few words as I knew how to use. When I spoke +of Nick, his eye brightened; when I spoke of giving Nick a note, he +nodded his head. Then he asked, "What did you write?"</p> +<p>"The word <i>going</i>," I said.</p> +<p>"Have you a pencil?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Here, take this, and write the word <i>going</i>," he said, +handing me a small blank-book.</p> +<p>On a leaf of the book I wrote the word, and my signature +below.</p> +<p>Then the officer took another book from his pocket, and looked +attentively at both books.</p> +<p>Then he said: "General, I think there is something in what he +says. Better be careful of your advance."</p> +<p>And to me, "You must need rest and food; come with me, Mr. +Berwick."</p> +<p>That night I slept in Dr. Khayme's tent.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XI"></a>XI</h2> +<h3>FORT WILLIS</h3> +<center>"This is the sergeant,<br> +Who like a bold and hardy soldier fought."<br> +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>After having been well treated at General Keyes's headquarters, +I had been given a seat in an ambulance going back to Newport News. +The officer who had questioned me proved to be one of the general's +aides. The negro Nick had succeeded in avoiding the rebels, and had +delivered my message, with which my handwriting showed identity; +moreover, General Keyes, when the matter was brought to his +attention, immediately declared with a laugh that his friend +Khayme's protégé was a "brick."</p> +<p>The physical and mental tension to which I had been continuously +subjected for more than two days was followed by a reaction which, +though natural enough, surprised me by its degree. I lay on a +camp-bed after supper, utterly done. The Doctor and Lydia sat near +me, and questioned me on my adventures, as they ware pleased to +term my escapade. Lydia was greatly interested in my account of my +visit to the woman's house; the Doctor's chief interest was centred +on Nick.</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "you were right from a purely prudential point +of view in testing the negro well; but in your place I should have +trusted him the instant I learned that he was a slave."</p> +<p>"But, Father," said Lydia; "you surely don't think that all the +slaves wish to be free."</p> +<p>"No, I don't; but I believe that every man slave, who has +independence of character sufficient to cause him to be alone at +night between two hostile armies, wishes to be free."</p> +<p>"You are right, Doctor," said I; "but you must admit, I think, +that at the time I could hardly reason so clearly as you can +now."</p> +<p>This must have been said very sleepily, for Lydia exclaimed, +"Father, Mr. Berwick needs rest."</p> +<p>"Yes, madam; he needs rest, but not such as you are thinking of. +Let me fully unburden himself in a mild and gentlemanly way; then +he can sleep the sleep of the just."</p> +<p>"Oh, Father, your words sound like a funeral service."</p> +<p>"I am alive, Miss Lydia; and you know the Doctor believes that +the just live forever."</p> +<p>"The just? I believe everybody lives forever, and always did +live."</p> +<p>"Even, the rebels?" then I thought that I should have said +"slaveholders."</p> +<p>"Rebels will live forever, but they will cease to be rebels, +that is, after they have accomplished their purposes, and rebellion +becomes unnecessary."</p> +<p>"Then, you admit at last that rebellion, and consequently war, +are necessary?"</p> +<p>"No, I don't see how you can draw such an inference," said the +Doctor; "rebellion cannot make war necessary, and hostility to +usurped authority is always right."</p> +<p>"How can there be such without war as a consequence?" I asked +languidly.</p> +<p>"Father," said Lydia, "please let Mr. Berwick rest."</p> +<p>"Madam, you are keeping him from going to sleep; I am only +making him sleepy."</p> +<p>Lydia retired.</p> +<p>I wondered if the Doctor knew to the full what he was saying. He +continued: "Well, Jones, I'll let you off now on that subject; but +I warn you that it is the first paper on the programme for +to-morrow. By the way, you will have but a few days' rest now; your +regiment is expected on the tenth."</p> +<p>"Glad to hear it, Doctor."</p> +<p>"So you think the Confederate lines are very strong?"</p> +<p>"Yes, they are certainly very strong, at least that part of them +that I saw. What they are near Yorktown, I cannot say, of +course."</p> +<p>"I can see one thing," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"What is that?"</p> +<p>"The map we have is incorrect."</p> +<p>"How so?"</p> +<p>"It makes the Warwick creek too short and too straight."</p> +<p>"I found it very long," said I; "and it is wide, and it is deep, +and it cannot be turned on the James River side except by the +fleet."</p> +<p>"The fleet is not going to turn that line; the fleet is doing +nothing, and probably will do nothing until the <i>Merrimac</i> is +disposed of."</p> +<p>"Doctor, how in the world do you get all your information?"</p> +<p>"By this and that," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"How we are to get at the rebels I can't see," said I.</p> +<p>"On the Yorktown end of their line," replied the Doctor.</p> +<p>"It seems to me a singular coincidence," said I, "that our +troops should have been advancing behind me all day yesterday."</p> +<p>"Do you object?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Not at all; I was about used up when they found me. What I +should have done I don't well see."</p> +<p>"You would have been compelled to start back," he said.</p> +<p>"Yes," said I, "and I had no food, and should have been +compelled to wait till night to make a start."</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme was exceedingly cheerful; he smoked incessantly and +faster than he usually smoked. The last thing I can remember before +sleep overcame my senses was the thought that the idol's head +looked alive, and that the smoke-clouds which rose above it and +half hid the Doctor's face were not mere forms that would dissipate +and be no more; they seemed living beings--servants attendant on +their master's will.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The next day was cold and damp. I went out but little. I wrote +some letters, and rested comfortably. The Doctor gave me the news +that Yorktown had been invested, and that there was promise of a +siege instead of a battle.</p> +<p>"They have found the Confederate lines too strong to be taken by +assault," said he; "and while McClellan waits for +reënforcements, there will be nothing to prevent the +Confederates from being reënforced; so mote it be."</p> +<p>"What! You are not impatient?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not."</p> +<p>"And you are willing for the enemy to be reënforced?"</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; I know that the more costly the war the sooner it will +end."</p> +<p>"I think McClellan ought to have advanced before," said I; "he +is likely to lose much time now."</p> +<p>"He has plenty of time; he has all the time there is."</p> +<p>"All the time there is! that means eternity."</p> +<p>"Of course; he has eternity, no more and no less."</p> +<p>"That is a long time," said I, thinking aloud.</p> +<p>"And as broad as it is long," said the Doctor; "everything will +happen in that time."</p> +<p>"To McClellan?"</p> +<p>"Why not to McClellan? To all."</p> +<p>"Everything is a big word, Doctor."</p> +<p>"No bigger than eternity."</p> +<p>"And McClellan will win and will lose?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"I hardly understand, Doctor, what you mean by saying that +everything will happen."</p> +<p>"I mean," said he, "that change and eternity are all the +conditions necessary to cause everything to come to pass."</p> +<p>"The rebels will win and the North will win?"</p> +<p>"Yes; both of these seemingly contradictory events will +happen."</p> +<p>"You surely are a strange puzzle."</p> +<p>"I give myself enough time, do I not?"</p> +<p>"But time can never reconcile a contradiction."</p> +<p>"The contradiction is only seeming."</p> +<p>"Did both Confederates and Union troops win the battle of Bull +Run?"</p> +<p>"The Confederates defeated the Federals," said the Doctor; "but +the defeat will prove profitable to the defeated. What I mean by +saying both North and South will win, you surely know; it is that +the divine purpose, working in all the nations, will find its end +and accomplishment, and this purpose is not limited, in the present +wicked strife, to either of the combatants. What the heart of the +people of both sections wants will come; what they want they fight +for; but it would have come without war, as I was about to tell you +last night, when you interrupted me by going to sleep."</p> +<p>"Yes," said I, laughing, "you were going to tell me how +rebellion could exist and not bring war."</p> +<p>"And Mr. Berwick made his escape," said Lydia.</p> +<p>"But you promised to give it to me to-day, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Give it to me! That is an expression which I have heard used in +two senses," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to +give it."</p> +<p>"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."</p> +<p>"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall +proceed to punish you."</p> +<p>"By refusing me?"</p> +<p>"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does +not necessarily bring war?"</p> +<p>"That is the postulate," I replied.</p> +<p>"Then, first, what is rebellion?"</p> +<p>"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a +definition, "rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or +state, to the legalized government of the nation or state."</p> +<p>"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see +if there have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you +say of Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"</p> +<p>"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a +stop to it."</p> +<p>"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you +say of Monk?"</p> +<p>"What Monk?"</p> +<p>"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the +Second."</p> +<p>"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a +rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."</p> +<p>"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"</p> +<p>"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does +not bring war when, the other party won't fight."</p> +<p>"But it is wrong to fight," he said.</p> +<p>"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.</p> +<p>"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending +is that every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England +have been wiser if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies? +Suppose the principle of peace were cherished: the ideas that would +otherwise cause rebellion would be patiently tested; the men of new +or opposite ideas would no longer be rebels; they would be +statesmen; a rebellion would be accepted, tried, and defeated by a +counter rebellion, both peaceable. It is simply leaving things to +the will of the majority. Right ideas will win, no matter what the +opposition to them. Better change the arena of conflict. A single +champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter and prove his +hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same thing on +a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and I +have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or +rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you +Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you +proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of +them are left to think fatally; but they <i>will</i> think, and +your killing them will not prove your ideas right."</p> +<p>"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know +that is what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I +asked, thinking to touch a tender spot.</p> +<p>"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many +a Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea +would have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once; +but the idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with +the South knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge +concerning principle was involved, instead of massacre according to +the John Brown idiocy, a great amelioration in the condition of the +slave would have begun immediately. The South, would have gradually +liberated the slaves."</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from +perfection."</p> +<p>"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to +have ideals, and strive to reach them."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship +Point, and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the +next day I rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me +coming. The good fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and +generous. We soon went off for a private chat.</p> +<p>"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he +asked.</p> +<p>"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp +was never moved once; what have you been doing?"</p> +<p>"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to +come. Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"</p> +<p>"What new drill?"</p> +<p>"Hardee."</p> +<p>"You don't say!"</p> +<p>"Fact. Whole division."</p> +<p>"Do you like it better?"</p> +<p>"Believe I do."</p> +<p>"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough +to do of another sort."</p> +<p>Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the +manual of arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is +carried in the right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted +for Scott's, which provides for the shoulder on the left side. +There was no actual drill, however, and my clumsy +performance--clumsy compared with that of the other men of the +company who had become accustomed to the change--was limited to but +little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants because of my +inexperience.</p> +<p>I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not +expect him to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of +her; and I did not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him +information concerning the young lady. He asked me about Dr. +Khayme, however, and thus gave me the chance to let him know that +the Doctor himself would move his quarters to the rear of our +lines, but that his daughter would remain at the hospital at +Newport News until the army should advance beyond Yorktown.</p> +<p>And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of +Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and +frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost +every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on +the picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood +the hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have +endured much more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been +completely upset; he had said that we should take Yorktown in a +week and pursue the routed rebels into Richmond, and now we were +doing but little--so far as we could see--to bring matters to a +conclusion. The artillery of the rebels played on our lines; and +our guns replied; the pickets, too, were frequently busy popping +away at each other, and occasionally hitting their marks. Ever +since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great quantities of +lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though Dr. Khayme +maintained that the waste became a crime when men were killed,--I +have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words +"unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles, +and about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than +could be set down in a column of figures as long as the equator. +From April 13 to May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac +before Yorktown did not reach half of one per cent. The men learned +speedily to dodge shells, and I remember hearing one man say that +he dodged a bullet. He saw a black spot seemingly stationary, and +knew at once that the thing was coming in a straight line for his +eye. The story was swallowed, but I think nobody believed it, +except the hero thereof, who was a good soldier, however, and +ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who is supremely +interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my part, it +was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired one. I +dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a +cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under +cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing +sometimes to hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way," +at the smoke of a gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no +sound of a shell would follow, the missile having gone into the +woods half a mile to our right or left.</p> +<p>I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had +in its ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant, +I never saw him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead +a picket squad into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the +skirmish detail in place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and +laugh, and swear, in everything he was simply superb. That I do not +quote his cuss-words must not be taken as an indication, that they +were commonplace. Everything he did he did with his might, almost +violently. He was a good shot, too, within the range of the +smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of them--seemed to be better +armed than we were; it was said that they had received some cargoes +of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range, according to the +marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by blockade-runners. +They could keep us down behind the pits while they would walk about +as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries was flung +at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been +studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over +the fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his +temper got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one +day when he was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit; +Willis's bullet would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the +Enfield 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.</p> +<p>One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I +were both on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty, +and Willis was the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been +skirmishing on this part of the line the preceding day, but at +sunset, or the hour for sunset if the weather had been fair, the +firing had ceased as we marched up and relieved the old pickets. We +were in the woods, the most of us, but just here, on the right of +our own detail, there were a few rifle-pits in the open, the +opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four hundred yards apart, +and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at night--being +about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always composed of +three men for each post. We found our three men numb with, cold, +two lying near the edge o£ the woods, in a big hole made by a +shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard +nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds +reflected the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long +till day. The two men, my companions on post, whispered together, +and then proposed that I should take the first watch. Willis had +returned to the line with the relieved vedettes. I had no +objection to taking the first watch, yet I hesitated, simply +because the two men had whispered. I fancied there was some reason +for the request, and I asked bluntly why they had decided it was my +turn without giving me a voice in the matter. You know it is the +custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man volunteers +for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends, and +that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from +various companies, they preferred lying together.</p> +<p>This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason +that in two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and +they lay down in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle, +for fear of some sudden volley from the rebels.</p> +<p>The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the +left oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near +to a tree which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy +pine of second growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with +its limbs starting from the trunk as low as eight feet from the +ground. I stood near this tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our +nearest vedette posts, right and left, were a hundred yards from +me--the one on the left being in the woods, that on the right in +the open. The country called the Peninsula is low and flat and very +swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of rain that had now +fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a loblolly, to +use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about thirty +yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it was +possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this +ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture +us; such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by +the rebels, but by many other people at war.</p> +<p>Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line +about three hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette +posts nobody knew where, for they used similar economy to ours in +withdrawing their vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of +which I can but barely mention, had opened my eyes a little to the +possibility of accurate inferences, that is to say, his philosophy +of cause and effect, or purpose, as he liked better to call it, had +been urged upon me so frequently and so profoundly that I had +become more observant; he had made me think of the relations of +things. Philosophy, he had said, should be carried into everyday +life and into the smallest matters; that was what made a good +fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a good soldier, +provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This ravine, +then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented +opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods, +make prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there +would be a gap through which our skirmish line might be +surprised.</p> +<p>I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood +near the ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the +darkness. It did not extend into the forest, for the roots of the +trees there protected the soil from washing away. The undergrowth +at my left was not very dense; I judged that in daylight one could +see into the forest a hundred yards or more. At my right, the gully +began and seemed to widen and deepen as it went, but nothing +definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.</p> +<p>My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was +really transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more +forward place but thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in +less than a minute.</p> +<p>The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my +short absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I +would not like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt +that I had done right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically +speaking, but only to take a proper precaution, in regard to the +post itself. Then, what is a man's post? Merely the ground with +which the soles of his feet are in touch? If he may move an inch, +how far may he move? Yet I was glad that the men had not seen me +move and come back, and I was glad, too, that they had made the +proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had discovered +danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now for +one of these men to take my place.</p> +<p>My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious +of any new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do +something.</p> +<p>I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.</p> +<p>"Who stands watch next?"</p> +<p>"Me. But it's not time yet."</p> +<p>"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back +to the line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a +minute."</p> +<p>"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."</p> +<p>"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said +I.</p> +<p>The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, +"What is it you say I'm to tell him?"</p> +<p>The other man also had risen.</p> +<p>"Only that I want to see him."</p> +<p>"Anything wrong?"</p> +<p>"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is +all."</p> +<p>The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become +alarmed, perhaps.</p> +<p>When Willis came I was under the tree.</p> +<p>"What's up, Jones?"</p> +<p>"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."</p> +<p>"It's a gully," says he.</p> +<p>"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our +post ought to be where we can see into it."</p> +<p>"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."</p> +<p>I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any +intimation to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were +standing near me.</p> +<p>In two minutes Willis returned.</p> +<p>"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where +you are."</p> +<p>We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the +ravine.</p> +<p>"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to +be here."</p> +<p>"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise +us. This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."</p> +<p>The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be +thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.</p> +<p>"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know +what that noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."</p> +<p>"Let's have it."</p> +<p>"We can get lots of fun out here."</p> +<p>"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"</p> +<p>"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a +word to them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be +mum now, old man."</p> +<p>"Tell me what you mean."</p> +<p>But he had already started back.</p> +<p>It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; +yet the weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I +knew that in all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would +prolong the duty of the vedettes and make another relief +necessary.</p> +<p>When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good +men of Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on +back to the line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."</p> +<p>When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way +back a short distance and into the edge of the woods.</p> +<p>"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. +We want to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or +something to screen them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so +beyond the gully till I whistle for you, or call you. The rest of +us will do the work while you watch."</p> +<p>The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear +enough. One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that +others seemed to have come up in no light marching order. Willis +meant to occupy the ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in +this advanced post, so near the rebels that his bullets would not +fall short. It was all clear enough.</p> +<p>The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing +Thompson, I skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or +forty yards to my right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, +with my eyes to the front. Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; +the men were filling the sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck +became stiff. No sound reached me from the front; I supposed that +the nearest rebel vedette was not nearer than two hundred yards, +unless at a point more advanced from his lines there was some +natural protection for him. But what prevented my being surprised +from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened my neck; light +was beginning to show.</p> +<p>At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call +twice. The ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself +almost impregnable against an equal force of skirmishers. Just +where an angle in the western edge presented a flank of wall toward +the north, Willis and his gang had cut away the earth into a shelf +some three feet beneath the top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth +surmounted the summit, with open spaces between, in order that a +musket might be fired through, these handy port-holes, and the +sand-bags were covered with sedge from the open field. I +congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.</p> +<p>The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could +yet see neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and +reserved the centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be +about two feet nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was +manned by Freeman, Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.</p> +<p>"Men, attention!" says Willis.</p> +<p>"Take the caps off of your pieces!"</p> +<p>The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis +condescended to explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as +Act First; that any man who should yield to the temptation to fire +without orders, was to be sent back to the line at once.</p> +<p>Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a +bullet whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel +side.</p> +<p>"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.</p> +<p>Everybody had rushed to his place.</p> +<p>"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.</p> +<p>We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.</p> +<p>"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.</p> +<p>The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.</p> +<p>"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.</p> +<p>Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line +in the rear.</p> +<p>The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from +one to another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our +heads from the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade +from both sides continued.</p> +<p>Willis was at the parapet.</p> +<p>"Look out!" he cries.</p> +<p>A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets +from the rebels.</p> +<p>"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.</p> +<p>We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible +three hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. +Our skirmish line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired +not at us but at our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had +been but the supplement of the artillery fire--all for the purpose +of getting full command of our line, on which not a man now dared +to show his head, for a dozen Minié balls would go for it at +the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had not detected our little +squad.</p> +<p>"Prime, men!" says Willis.</p> +<p>The guns were capped.</p> +<p>"Now, hold your fire till the word!"</p> +<p>Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all +their own way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their +waists could be seen; some of them began to walk about a little, +for they were not in any sort of danger, that is, from our line. +They were firing with a system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then +in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and so on down their line, merely to +keep the advantage they had gained. At irregular intervals two or +three shots would be sent at some dummy--a hat or coat held up by +the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.</p> +<p>"<i>Ready!</i>" says Willis.</p> +<p>Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another +joined them.</p> +<p>"<i>Aim! Fire!</i>"</p> +<p>Five triggers were pulled.</p> +<p>"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable +oath, than any I ever saw in print.</p> +<p>The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my +way; I had been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly +see anything. Put yourself in a hole, and raise your head until +your eyes are an inch, or two above the surface of ground almost +level--what can you see? But for a slight depression between us and +the rebels, the position would have been worthless; yet every evil, +according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or good side--our fortress +was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it, if they saw it at +all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective mingling our +small elevation with the greater ones beyond.</p> +<p>We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight +feet deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a +rattle of firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had +taken advantage of the diversion brought, and had turned the +tables; not a shot was coming from the front.</p> +<p>Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," +he said.</p> +<p>Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were +doing nothing, and were nervously expectant.</p> +<p>Holt wished for a pack of cards.</p> +<p>A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a +gang of rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were +but sixty yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line +could protect us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of +'em before they could git to us." To this Thompson replied that if +the rebels should again get the upper hand, and make our men afraid +to show their heads, the rebels could come on us from the woods +without great danger. Willis admitted that Thompson had reason, but +did not think the rebels had yet found us out; at any rate, they +would be afraid to come so near our strong skirmish-line; so for +his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the right was the place +of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the rebels might +sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we were +here.</p> +<p>Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the +front was heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us +became silent.</p> +<p>We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its +port-hole.</p> +<p>"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have +another chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. +Berwick first. Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a +head--"</p> +<p>I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that +my shot missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides +pegged away for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his +man.</p> +<p>Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of +the bags between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and +into the wall of the ravine behind us. Willis fired.</p> +<p>"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."</p> +<p>Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and +then Freeman, and it became my turn again.</p> +<p>That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and +buried itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not +believe that an ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted +whether an Enfield had it. The rebels were getting good arms from +England. It might be that some man over there had a Whitworth +telescope rifle; if so he had detected us perhaps--a telescope +would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this speculation, but +watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a man as low as +his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag was +struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and +which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the +bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the +wall of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.</p> +<p>"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.</p> +<p>"I'll report directly, Sergeant."</p> +<p>I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a +long, leaden cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than +calibre 45 I guessed. This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to +Willis; he understood.</p> +<p>"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."</p> +<p>The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth +over there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers +where we were posted; then we should be a target for their whole +line, and at three hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our +sand-bags and make us lie low.</p> +<p>Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched +on the cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, +the others fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.</p> +<p>Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our +fun.</p> +<p>Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that +we had done more damage than we had received, and should receive; +that all we had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm +should pass; the rebels would think that we were gone and would +cease wasting their ammunition; then we could have more fun.</p> +<p>Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so +said Thompson, and so said Freeman.</p> +<p>My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this +moment retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge +of the woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not +killed; it was doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for +the rebels, if they had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, +and would throw a hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again +get the upper hand of the rebels, then we could get out easily; if +not, we must stay here till night. We had done all that could be +done--had done well, and we must not risk loss without a purpose; +we must protect ourselves; let the rebels waste their powder--the +more they wasted, the better. The only real danger was that the +rebels might advance; but even if they did, they could not get at +us without coming to blows with our line--the ravine protected our +line from their charge. It was our business to stay where we were +and to keep a sharp lookout.</p> +<p>So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we +should keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at +the bottom of the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.</p> +<p>The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below +the level of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to +the porthole. Freeman began, taking off his coat.</p> +<p>"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.</p> +<p>"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.</p> +<p>He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat +above on a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, +faced us, raised his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was +the first dummy that the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at +any rate their whole force was at once busy; the fire rolled from +left to right far down the line, yet when Freeman examined his +garments he found that neither hat nor coat had been struck.</p> +<p>"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want +to."</p> +<p>Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must +make some effort to keep awake.</p> +<p>"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a +little, and see what's there."</p> +<p>"All right, Jones; but don't go far."</p> +<p>I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward +our line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned +toward the left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the +left, running for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running +straight toward the rebels. I came back and reported.</p> +<p>"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We +must keep two sentinels on post now."</p> +<p>Thompson was posted at the bend.</p> +<p>It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the +gully; they could not know how small was our force; if they should +march a company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to +capture by a sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, +however, that a few men would try to sneak up in order to see how +many we were; yet even this supposition was not necessary, for the +rebels were having everything their own way, and need risk nothing. +So I decided in my own mind to be as patient as possible until +dark.</p> +<p>The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional +Whitworth bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we +could not hear the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer +seen. What were they planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could +find a means for communicating with our friends in the rear; if +they would open fire again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was +best to be quiet until dark.</p> +<p>I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at +the bend. Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; +our game had been blocked. The notion now came to me that if the +rebels wanted us, the way to get us would be to send men up the +ravine just before dark, and at the same time for a squad of them +to steal through the woods to our left, where they would be ready +for us when we should steal out.</p> +<p>"Sergeant!"</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"Think we'd better get back."</p> +<p>"What's the matter now?"</p> +<p>"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."</p> +<p>"Fact, by--!" says Willis.</p> +<p>"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here +to tell you how to do it."</p> +<p>"Le's have it," says Willis.</p> +<p>"Make a big smoke!"</p> +<p>Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, +down at the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the +ravine. Our knives and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big +heap of green boughs and sprigs. It would take work to touch her +off, for there was no dry wood; but we managed by finding the +remains of cartridge papers and using a free supply of gunpowder. +When all was ready, Holt was recalled, and the match was +struck.</p> +<p>"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a +partin' salute."</p> +<p>The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately +peeping to the front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At +last she caught, and a thin column of black smoke began to +ascend.</p> +<p>"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up +to."</p> +<p>A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, +or by us at them.</p> +<p>The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it +away from the woods.</p> +<p>"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.</p> +<p>But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort +Willis should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention +had been so fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the +universe had become a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder +almost overhead startled the defenders of the redoubt. Without our +knowledge a storm had rolled up from the Atlantic; the rain was +beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops, already obscuring our +vision.</p> +<p>"<i>Fire!</i>" shouted Willis.</p> +<p>The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to +the skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's +making.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XII"></a>XII</h2> +<h3>MORE ACTIVE SERVICE</h3> +<center> "Do but start<br> +An echo with the clamour of thy drum,<br> +And even at hand a drum is ready braced<br> +That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were +heard in the direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the +light of great fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be +ready to march, but the morning wore away, and it was almost two +o'clock before the long roll beat. At length we moved with the +column, already unnerved by long-continued expectation, westward +upon the Williamsburg road.</p> +<p>Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told +you so."</p> +<p>Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he +kept on predicting till the rain came.</p> +<p>The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up +by the retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of +us.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had +come into our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking +our way. We rested. About dark our head of column was turned back +and we countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted +again, where, I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn +out when orders were given that the men should lie on their arms, +but that they should otherwise make themselves as comfortable as +they could. Rain was falling, the night was black, comfort was +impossible. I suppose I got two or three hours' sleep. At daylight +the march was again taken up; in an hour or two we halted and +formed line with skirmishers in front; it was still raining.</p> +<p>We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank, +through the woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers +deployed in advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets +flew amongst us. We continued to advance until we reached the edge +of the woods; the line had not yet fired a shot.</p> +<p>The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we +became visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the +timber at our ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We +lay there for something like two hours; then we moved to the +rear,--only our regiment, I think,--fronted again, and marched to +the right for perhaps a mile through the woods. Willis said that we +were seeking any enemy that might be in the woods; but he aroused +no interest; nobody either approved or seemed to doubt Willis's +interpretation of the movement; we did not know what the generals +were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and hungry and +wet.</p> +<p>By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position +near the felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile +batteries to fire upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the +rear. I noticed that our company seemed small; perhaps a few had +been wounded; certainly many had fallen out of ranks, unable longer +to endure.</p> +<p>About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time +through the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the +roar of musketry ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen +running in every direction except one. We moved on in line, without +skirmishers. The straggling men increased in numbers, and many +wounded went past us, the ambulance corps working busily here in +the dense wet forest. The yells of the rebels were plainly heard, +and all eyes were strained to catch sight of what was already but +too well known. Every moment was an hour.</p> +<p>Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line +staggered to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as +he could--firing at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could +be heard in the smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution +in our own strife, there could be faintly heard the noise of battle +to our right, far and near to our right.</p> +<p>Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to +the left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers +cried, "They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that +line, men! They are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in +convincing most of us that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are +flanked!" "Look out!" "Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the +whole crowd of us were running with all our legs. I reached a road +that ran across the line of my flight; it was full of everything: +troops in good order, stragglers breaking through them, wounded +lying down, dead flat on their backs, artillery horses in their +traces, ambulances.</p> +<p>So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops +had relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and +the battle soon ended on the whole line.</p> +<p>With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the +woods; the rain kept on.</p> +<p>I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered +a victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we +had won it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the +battle. The rebels fought this partial engagement only for the +purpose, I think, of securing the retreat of their army and trains; +we fought for the purpose of preventing the retreat. I have learned +that our right wing had better success than we had on the left; but +for all that, the enemy got away unbroken, and his purpose was +accomplished. In the days of those early battles, even the falling +back of the rebel pickets before a line of our skirmishers was +telegraphed to Washington as a victory.</p> +<p>We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small. +Willis's remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring +much comfort; even his assertion, that they would again retreat and +that the morning would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm. +The men were dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought +hard and had endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they +were physically exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody +had blundered in putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place. +I have always been proud that none of our men deserted on the night +of the Williamsburg battle.</p> +<p>No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down. +My gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top; +this was our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and +gum-blanket. The night was warm enough, and our covering was needed +only as some protection against the rain. I was soon asleep, but +awake again as soon. About ten o'clock I felt a hand on my +shoulder. Rising, I saw our orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by +him. I was ordered to report at General Grover's headquarters. The +general had sent an orderly, who could not or would not tell why I +was wanted.</p> +<p>General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers, +surrounding a dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a +large tree; horses were tied near by to the branches of trees.</p> +<p>The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.</p> +<p>The general came toward me; I saluted.</p> +<p>"Your name," said he.</p> +<p>"Private Jones Berwick."</p> +<p>"Your regiment."</p> +<p>"Eleventh."</p> +<p>"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."</p> +<p>I bowed.</p> +<p>"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"</p> +<p>"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after +danger," said I.</p> +<p>"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."</p> +<p>He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers +scattering.</p> +<p>"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must +send a man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this +brigade?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."</p> +<p>"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going +should not be allowed to go."</p> +<p>"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me +decline."</p> +<p>"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall +lose nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do +your duty well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."</p> +<p>"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let +me show you."</p> +<p>He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an +officer stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and +placed the lantern near the blanket.</p> +<p>"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.</p> +<p>The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on +the blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.</p> +<p>"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil; +"you see our line here, running north and south."</p> +<p>"Which is north?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over +here, or were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this +branch, in part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get +across the branch, and go on through the woods until you come to +this road, which you see running north and south. You need not go +across this road. All I want you to do is to observe this road +until day."</p> +<p>"Is the road in the woods, General?"</p> +<p>"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble +whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the +road," said he.</p> +<p>"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall +I do?"</p> +<p>"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their +vedettes near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to +the road. If they are on this side of the road, but so near the +road that you can observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with +as little risk to yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on +the road, you must come back to the picket-line and report, and +then return to your post of observation."</p> +<p>"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and +our picket-line?"</p> +<p>"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to +supply one."</p> +<p>"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this +side of the road."</p> +<p>"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night. +Take your own way to do it, but the road must be observed."</p> +<p>"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"</p> +<p>"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred +yards," said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of +paper."</p> +<p>"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the +other brigades, General?"</p> +<p>"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will +hardly find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do +our duty for us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision +such as you speak of."</p> +<p>"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"</p> +<p>"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you +through. I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."</p> +<p>"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't +find you when I get back."</p> +<p>"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get +back to us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that +relieve them about you."</p> +<p>"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said +I.</p> +<p>"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through +the other man. Is everything clear to you now?"</p> +<p>"Yes, General; I think so."</p> +<p>"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten +minutes."</p> +<p>I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed, +and I was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as +much consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that +I should run against one of them in the darkness. I put my +gum-blanket over me, committed my knapsack and other things to +Willis's keeping; and was back with the general.</p> +<p>We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the +general had shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief +conversation took place between the general and Captain Brown of +the picket-line. The captain chose a man, and told him to follow me +and to obey my orders.</p> +<p>Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of +yourself, my man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you +report any movement on that road." I began to assure him that I +would do all that I could, but I found that he had already started +back to the brigade.</p> +<p>I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when +I should return. The low call went right and left along the +line,--"Two of our men going to the front!"</p> +<p>"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.</p> +<p>"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are +only thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour +ago."</p> +<p>I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern, +which his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or +more, that the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two +men to every five paces, and that every man was standing in his +place, gun in hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their +faces to the front. There were no picket fires.</p> +<p>"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"</p> +<p>"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new +men in half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for +such duty. The new men will be advised that you are still in front. +Are you ready?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Come."</p> +<p>The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the +detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The +captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to +the picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I +say observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch +it. I asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the +picket-line; while he was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette. +He had heard nothing in his front, except that now and then there +seemed to come to him, from far away, an indistinct rumble; he had +seen nothing in the black night except trees but little blacker. +The rain was a thick drizzle.</p> +<p>I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard +anything in his front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the +vedettes had orders not to fire, but to retire at once on the +picket-line in case of a silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar +order, which at a later time I heard given again under somewhat +similar circumstances, was no doubt a wise one. A secret advance of +the enemy's skirmishers would have been precipitated into a charge +by the fire of the vedette, whereas his secret retreat to his line +would prepare the pickets to surprise the surprisers.</p> +<p>And now, with Allen just behind me, I went forward. The woods +were so dense and the night so dark that it was useless to try to +see ahead of me. The only thing to do was to feel my way. I +supposed that the branch which I was to cross was but a very short +distance in front. I had no fear that I should find enemies this +side of the branch; the great probability was that their vedettes +were posted on the farther bank of the stream. When I had gone not +more than thirty yards, I felt that the ground sloped downward +before me, and I judged that the branch was very near. I paused. +There was not a sound except that made by the fall of heavy drops +of water from the leaves of the trees. I strained my eyes, trying +to see in front. Allen was but three paces behind me, yet I could +not see his form. I stepped back to where he was, and asked in a +low whisper if he could see at all.</p> +<p>"Yes," said he, "I can see a little. I can make out where you +stand."</p> +<p>I told him that we ought to be now very near a branch, and that +the branch ought to make a slight gap in the woods and a little +more light. He whispered back that there was, he thought, more +light in our front than there had been before. I now tried to +discern this new light, and could not at first, but after a little +while it did seem to me that just ahead there was a dim gray +streak.</p> +<p>I made one step forward--paused--then another step; another, and +I felt my foot in the water. The gray streak had widened. I made a +step back, and caught Allen by the hand. Then I went forward, +holding Allen's hand. But I wanted to speak to Allen, and feared to +do so. We went back again, some three steps, until I was out of the +water.</p> +<p>Allen was always a little in my rear, even when we were +hand-in-hand. He whispered, "It is ten steps wide."</p> +<p>"Can you see across it?"</p> +<p>"I think so. I think the trees are lower over there."</p> +<p>In all my experience as a soldier I think that I never felt +myself in a more critical place. The opposite side of the branch +was an ideal position for the rebel vedettes. They ought to be +there if anywhere in these woods. Still, they, as well as we, might +have neglected their opportunity; besides, their line might be bent +back here; their vedettes might be on the branch farther to our +right, and <i>here</i> might be anywhere in its rear; we did not +know where the rebel right rested. Of one thing I felt sure--the +rebels did not intend to advance on this night, for in that case +they would have had their vedettes, and their pickets also, if +possible, on our side of the branch.</p> +<p>The thing had to be done. I must risk crossing the branch. If +vedettes were on it, it was just within the possible that I might +pass between two of them.</p> +<p>I whispered to Allen that I wanted a stick; he already had one, +which he put into my hand. Then I told him to take hold of my coat, +lest my foot should slip; the noise of a splash, might have caused +utter failure, if not our capture.</p> +<p>We reached the water again. I felt before me. The end of the +stick seemed to sink into soft mud.</p> +<p>I made another step forward. I was up to my ankles in mud, up to +my knees in water.</p> +<p>I made another step; the water rose to my thighs.</p> +<p>Again a step; the water was no deeper, and I felt no mud under +my feet. I thought I had reached the middle.</p> +<p>I paused and listened. I was afraid to speak to Allen. The same +monotonous dropping of water--nothing more.</p> +<p>We went forward, and got to the farther bank, which seemed +steep. By feeling right and left, I found a foothold. I loosed +Allen's hand from my coat, and stood on the bank. Allen was in the +water below me.</p> +<p>I looked around, for I could now see a little. I could easily +tell that there were no trees over my head. I seemed to be +surrounded by a dense, low thicket. What was in this thicket? +Likely the rebel vedettes and pickets.</p> +<p>My hand inadvertently came in contact with a stump. I could feel +the smooth surfaces left by an axe. The tree itself was lying +there, but not entirely cut from its stump. I could feel the +splintered middle of the tree, still holding. I at once knew that I +was in the midst of felled timber,--on the edge of a slashing or +entanglement.</p> +<p>Were the rebel vedettes in this felled timber? Most unlikely, +unless there were alleyways open for their retreat. But perhaps the +strip of timber was very narrow, and the rebel vedettes were just +in rear of it; perhaps it was cut only along the margin of the +branch, and in order to impede and expose to hearing any enemy that +might succeed in crossing the branch. But, in that case, would not +the timber be a protection rather than a hindrance to the enemy +advancing or stealing forward? Yes, unless the vedettes were just +in rear of this very narrow strip, or unless the rebel +intrenchments were in easy musket range.</p> +<p>These thoughts went through my mind while I was on the bank with +Allen below me. I hesitated. Beyond this skirt of felled timber +there might be capture, or death, or there might be no danger +whatever. I was beginning to hope that there was no vedette or +picket-line in these woods.</p> +<p>Whispering to Allen to remain where he was, I crept forward; +after having made some ten paces through the entanglement, I paused +and listened. There was not a sound. I crept back to Allen, and, +giving him my hand, helped him up the bank. Then we both went +forward until I supposed we were near the spot to which I had +previously advanced. Allen was now signalled to stop, while I crept +on again, and again returned to him; then both went forward as +before. On this second stage of our approach we passed through to +the farther side of the felled timber.</p> +<p>We were now on the edge of woods still standing. I feared every +moment lest we should be detected by some vedette. The enemy's +works ought to be very near; neither spoke to the other; abatis +without intrenchments was not to be thought of. Yet I was hoping to +find the intrenchments deserted.</p> +<p>The rain had almost entirely ceased. The night was growing. We +had used up at least an hour's time, and had made an advance of +less than two hundred yards.</p> +<p>I moved forward again--and back--alternately alone and with +Allen forward--until at length I reached a road running across my +line of progress.</p> +<p>After listening again intently and hearing nothing, I got down +on my hands and knees and crawled across the road. I could tell +with my hands that the road was cut up with ruts, and what I +supposed were horses' tracks, but it was impossible for me to know +which way the tracks headed.</p> +<p>Beyond the road the woods continued; I crawled on for thirty or +forty yards, and found nothing.</p> +<p>Then I returned to Allen, and speaking low I asked him, "What do +you think that skirt of felled timber means?"</p> +<p>"It means breastworks over there in the woods," said he.</p> +<p>"But I have been at least thirty yards beyond the road and there +is nothing. I am beginning to believe that there is not a rebel +left in these woods."</p> +<p>"Then," said he, "the timber was cut down with the intention of +fortifying, and afterward the intention was abandoned."</p> +<p>"Or else it was cut down, as a blind," said I; "likely enough +its purpose was merely to keep troops on this road from being +seen."</p> +<p>"Still," said he, "they may be back farther in the woods."</p> +<p>I did not believe it. If this felled timber defended the +approach to a rebel line, we were near enough to the line to hear +many noises. The only thing I now feared was some scouting +party.</p> +<p>It was necessary to run some risk; even if we should be fired +upon, I decided that we must learn which way the movement on the +road had been. I had Allen take off his cap, and while I lighted a +match near the ground, he held his cap over it, and we both looked +with all our eyes, moving the match back and forth over the road. +The tracks all headed to our right.</p> +<p>Then we both stepped quickly to the farther side of the +road.</p> +<p>"Allen," said I, "you must stay here till I return."</p> +<p>"Where are you going?"</p> +<p>"Through the woods."</p> +<p>"How long will you be gone?"</p> +<p>"A very short time. If I am not back in fifteen minutes, you +must return to the pickets and report that there has already been a +considerable movement on the road, and that no enemy is here. I +feel certain that there are no rebels in these woods. They were +here, but they have gone. I want to get to the open ground and see +what is there; it will not take long."</p> +<p>"I'm afraid that you can't see to make your way back to this +spot," said he.</p> +<p>"I may be compelled to whistle for you," said I; "if there is +nobody in these woods, there is no danger in my whistling."</p> +<p>"Better take me with you," said Allen; "two pairs of eyes are +better than one."</p> +<p>"That is true," I replied, "but some accident might happen to +both of us out there, and neither of us be able to report to +General Grover. Stay where you are."</p> +<p>I tried to go forward in a straight line so that I should be +able to turn square about and make my way back to Allen. The woods +became more open as I went. The rain had ceased, and I could see +much better. I reached the edge of the woods, and looked out. A few +stars were shining between broken clouds near the horizon in front +of me--west, I thought. Toward the north, and northwest the clouds +reflected some distant light, and had a reddish glow. I could +distinctly hear the sounds of great movements, the rumblings of +wagon, trains or artillery. The ground seemed open before me for a +long distance.</p> +<p>I went rapidly back toward Allen, whistling. He came to meet +me.</p> +<p>"Now, Allen," said I, "your part of this business is about over. +Go back to Captain Brown and ask him to report at once to General +Grover that the road shows clearly that the rebels have already +moved along it to their left, our right; and that there is nobody +here, all gone; gone to our right, their left, and that I have been +entirely through the woods, and have found nothing, but that to the +northwest there are the sounds of great movements, and that I am +going to see if I cannot find out more."</p> +<p>"Then what am I to do after that?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Nothing; remain with your company. I shall not need you, for I +doubt if I get back before day, and there is nothing for me to fear +in this place."</p> +<p>Allen started one way and I another. It was now about two +o'clock, I thought; the sky was almost clear, and I could see about +me. I passed rapidly through the woods again and into the open +ground, climbing a rail fence, and went up a very gentle slope that +rose before me, an "old field," or abandoned farm, which was +scattered over here and there with clumps of stunted growth. Once I +paused in terror. A bush had taken, to my fancy, the form of a man. +The illusion lasted but for a moment.</p> +<p>When I had reached the highest part of this undulation, I could +see many lights--some of them in motion, but most of them +stationary. The sounds of a moving army were distinct; I could hear +shouts, like those of teamsters, and once I thought I could catch +the command to close up.</p> +<p>I went on, down a gentle descent, and into a ravine which was +difficult to cross, and up the rise beyond. Between me and the red +glare I could distinguish objects, and I knew that if there were +rebels in line before me, I should be able to see them before they +could see me, so I went on without great fear, and crept to the top +of this second swell of the ground.</p> +<p>Here there could be no doubt that the rebels were retreating. +The road was full of them not four hundred yards from me. Fires +were burning on both sides of the road; men and wagons were +hurrying westward. Almost in front of me was a cluster of houses, +which I took to be Williamsburg; fires were burning in the streets; +a great throng was passing on west between the fires and between +the houses. I had little doubt that I could mingle, without great +danger, with the rebels, seeing that my gum-blanket would hide my +uniform, and was tempted to do so; the thought was rejected, +however; time was lacking; it would soon be day; I knew enough +already; I could not hope to learn from the rebels much more than I +now knew, and every step farther away from our lines would doubly +delay my report. So I turned my back upon Williamsburg and hurried +toward our pickets.</p> +<p>When I reached the road again, day was breaking. A vedette had +been advanced to the branch by Captain Brown. I hurried on and made +my report to General Grover. He at once called a courier, who +mounted and rode off in haste.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the morning of the 6th, the happiest man in the line was +Willis. Everybody was glad that the enemy had retired; but Willis +was bubbling over with the joy of foresight fulfilled. He rode a +high horse; the rebels would make no further stand until they +reached Richmond; he doubted if they would attempt to defend +Richmond, even. His spirits were contagious; he did good although +he was ludicrous. What would Dr. Khayme have said of Willis's +influence? I supposed that the Doctor would have used the sergeant +as an illustration of his doctrine that there is nothing +unnecessary or false; certainly Willis encouraged us.</p> +<p>The weather was better and the day's work not hard. We moved but +a short distance, and bivouacked.</p> +<p>About noon I was aroused from sleep by an order to report to +Colonel Blaisdell. I had no notion, of what was wanted of me. I had +never before been individually in his presence. I wondered what it +meant, and hastened to his headquarters.</p> +<p>I saluted; the colonel returned the salute.</p> +<p>"You are Private Berwick?" he said.</p> +<p>"Yes, Colonel."</p> +<p>"What have you been doing?"</p> +<p>"In what respect, Colonel?"</p> +<p>"You have been absent from your company." His voice was gruff, +but his eye and mouth belied his voice.</p> +<p>"Here," said he; "take this and read it."</p> +<p>I read the following: "Private Jones Berwick, Company D, +Eleventh Massachusetts Volunteers, is relieved, until further +orders, from duty with his company, and will hold himself ready for +special service when ordered."</p> +<p>This order was signed by Colonel Blaisdell, and approved by +General Grover.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>XIII</h2> +<br> +<p>JONES ON THE BLACK HORSE</p> +<center>"Take all the swift advantage of the +hours."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>At about three o'clock in the afternoon of this 6th of May, I +was again aroused from sleep, this time by an order to report to +the adjutant of the Eleventh. He informed me that he was aware of +General Grover's order relieving me from regular duty--in fact had +himself written the order by command of Colonel Blaisdell, who had +been asked to issue it by our brigade commander. The adjutant also +told me that I should still get rations through Company D, but that +I was free to go and come when not on special duty, and that I was +expected to keep him advised of my goings, so that I could be found +when wanted. "For the rest," said he, "you will do much as you +wish, especially when the brigade is in reserve, as it is to-day, +and as it is likely to be for a good many days to come. Your +services to be required at long intervals will make up, it is +hoped, for your exemption from regular duty."</p> +<p>I thanked him and retired. I had learned that Dr. Khayme was on +the right, and at once set out to find him, traversing much of the +battlefield of the preceding day. When I reached the ground over +which Hancock's troops had fought, it became evident that the +rebels had here suffered severely; their dead were yet numerous in +places, although details of men had long been busy in burying the +slain of both armies.</p> +<p>At last I found Dr. Khayme's tent, after having been directed +wrong more than once. No one was there except a white servant; he +told me that the Doctor, who was now at the field hospital, had +been busy the whole of the preceding day and night in relieving the +wounded; that he had taken no sleep at all. "I don't see how the +Doctor stands what he goes through," said the man. "Yesterday the +whole day long he was in the thick of it; he was in as great danger +as the troops were; lots more than some of 'em. He said that the +rebels wouldn't try to hit him; but for my part I wouldn't trust +one of 'em as far as I could fling a bull by the tail; and him a +tendin' to 'em just like they was our own men."</p> +<p>This was not the first I had heard of the Doctor's disregard of +danger. At Bull Run he was known to follow a charge and assist the +wounded as they fell. I supposed that there was no use +expostulating with a man who so firmly believed in the peculiar +doctrines of his philosophy.</p> +<p>About nightfall he came into the tent, rubbing his hands.</p> +<p>"Good evening, Jones. I expected to see you here. I suppose you +think you are going to stay with me several days?"</p> +<p>"Why do you suppose so, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Oh, by this and that. Your brigade will have nothing to do this +side of the Chickahominy."</p> +<p>"I don't know anything about the Chickahominy," I replied.</p> +<p>"You will know."</p> +<p>"The brigade can be easy for some time, then?"</p> +<p>"Any man can be easy for some time if he has been ordered on +special duty not to be demanded for some time."</p> +<p>"You know about my case?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme looked surprisingly fresh after having undergone such +arduous labours; indeed, this little man's physical endurance and +his mental power were to me matters for astonishment equally +great.</p> +<p>"Doctor," I said, "I hear you have been working very hard. You +need rest and sleep."</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "when I need rest I rest; when I need sleep I +sleep; just now I want supper."</p> +<p>After we had eaten he filled his pipe, and settled himself on a +camp-stool. He got more comfort out of a camp-stool than any other +man in the world. As I saw him sitting there, puffing slowly, his +eyes filled with intelligent pleasure, his impassive features in +perfect repose, I thought he looked the picture of contentment.</p> +<p>I asked about Lydia.</p> +<p>"Lydia will not rejoin me yet," said, he; "she wishes to be with +me, but I prefer that she should remain in the hospital at Hampton +until the army is concentrated. You will have some marching to do +before you have any more fighting, and I don't think I'll send for +her yet."</p> +<p>"I suppose she can do as much good where she is," I said.</p> +<p>"Yes, and save herself the worry of frequent marches. She can +come to me when things are settled. However, I am not sure that we +shall not demand her services here. But now tell me all about your +last night's experience."</p> +<p>When I had ended my narration, he said, "You will hereafter be +called on to do more of such work."</p> +<p>"I suppose so," said I.</p> +<p>"Do you like it?"</p> +<p>"No, Doctor, I do not, and I am surprised that I do not. Yet, I +shall not object if I can accomplish anything."</p> +<p>"You have accomplished something each time that you have been +sent out. You have at least furnished strong corroborative +evidence, sufficiently strong to induce action on the part of your +generals."</p> +<p>"Doctor, I wish you would rest and sleep."</p> +<p>"Are you sleepy?"</p> +<p>"No; I slept all the morning, and had another nap in the +afternoon."</p> +<p>"Well, let us talk awhile. The animals can rest; speech is given +unto man alone. First, I say that by holding to your programme of +last night you will incur little risk."</p> +<p>"Tell me what you mean by holding to my programme, Doctor."</p> +<p>"And you will accomplish more," he added meditatively. "Yes; you +will be in less danger, and you will accomplish more."</p> +<p>"I should be glad to be in less danger, as well as to do more," +said I.</p> +<p>"You should always do such work unarmed."</p> +<p>"You are right, Doctor; entirely right. Arms are encumbrances +only, and a man might easily be tempted to fire when he ought to be +silent."</p> +<p>"My reasons are a little different from yours," said the Doctor; +"you will be safer if you are unarmed, and other people's lives +will be safer from you."</p> +<p>"Why should I not also wear Confederate uniform?"</p> +<p>"And be a spy, Jones?"</p> +<p>"Hardly that, Doctor; merely a scout near the enemy's lines, not +in them."</p> +<p>"I cannot vote for that yet," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>The Doctor's servant entered, bringing a written message +addressed:--</p> +<blockquote> PRIVATE BERWICK,<br> + <i>On detached service,<br> + At Sanitary Camp,<br> + Rear of +General Hancock's division</i>.</blockquote> +<p>"Who gave you this?" I asked.</p> +<p>"A man has just come with it--a horseman--two horsemen; no, a +horseman with two horses."</p> +<p>"Is he waiting?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>I tore open the envelope. The Doctor was showing no curiosity; +the thought went through my mind that he already knew or +suspected.</p> +<p>There were three papers,--a sketch, a sort of passport which +contained only the countersigns for the past five days, and an +order from General Hooker.</p> +<p>The order itself gave me no information of the reasons which had +influenced General Hooker to choose me for the work required; I +could merely assume that General Grover had nominated me. I read +the order thoroughly three times, learned by heart the +countersigns, impressed the map on my mind, and then destroyed the +three papers in accordance with an express injunction comprised in +the order itself. This mental work took some minutes, during which +the Doctor sat impassive.</p> +<p>"Doctor, I must go."</p> +<p>"Well, Jones, we can finish, our talk when you return. I suppose +you are on secret service."</p> +<p>"Yes, Doctor,"</p> +<p>"Can I help in any way?"</p> +<p>"Please let me have that gray suit."</p> +<p>He brought it himself, not wishing his servant to see it.</p> +<p>"Anything else, Jones?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I shall need food."</p> +<p>"How will you carry it?"</p> +<p>"In my pockets. Bread will do."</p> +<p>"I think I have a better thing," said he; "I have provided that +you shall not starve again, as you did on the Warwick."</p> +<p>He produced a wide leathern belt, made into one long bag, or +pocket; this he filled with small hard biscuits; it was just what I +wanted.</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are the most extraordinary man in this army."</p> +<p>"I am not in this army," he said.</p> +<p>The belt was put on beneath my waistcoat.</p> +<p>"I'll leave my gun and everything with you, Doctor; I hope to +get back in two or three days."</p> +<p>"Very well, Jones. God bless you, boy," he said, and I was +gone.</p> +<p>Before the tent I found "the horseman with two horses."</p> +<p>"Does General Hooker expect a written reply?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; I suppose not."</p> +<p>"Then you may report that you have delivered your message and +that I begin work at once."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>I took the led horse and mounted. The man used his spurs and +rode toward the east.</p> +<p>My orders required me to go west and northwest. I was to +communicate with General Franklin, whose division on this day ought +to have landed on the south bank of the Pamunkey below White House +for the purpose of cutting off the Confederates' retreat. The +earliest possible delivery of my message was strenuously required, +my orders even going so far as to include reasons for despatch. The +retreating enemy were almost between us and Franklin, and he must +be notified to attack and delay them at every hazard, and must be +informed if possible by what road he should advance in order to cut +off their retreat; it was added that, upon landing, General +Franklin would not know of the situation of the rebel army, and +would depend upon information being brought to him by some one of +the messengers sent him on this night.</p> +<p>My ride was to be a ride of twenty-five miles or more, judging +from the map. Our outposts were perhaps six miles ahead; I made the +six miles in less than three-quarters of an hour. With the outposts +I had no trouble.</p> +<p>"Give me the countersign for last Sunday," said the officer.</p> +<p>"Another man's ahead of you," he said, when I had responded.</p> +<p>"Who is he?"</p> +<p>"Don't know. Horse black."</p> +<p>"Going fast?"</p> +<p>"Goin' like hell!" said he; then added, "and goin' <i>to</i> +hell, too, if he don't mind how he rides."</p> +<p>It was now after nine o'clock, and I had nineteen or twenty +miles ahead of me. As I had ten hours, I considered that +circumspection was worth more than haste--let the black horse go +on.</p> +<p>"Where are the rebels?"</p> +<p>"A mile in front when dark came."</p> +<p>"Infantry?"</p> +<p>"Couldn't say; they are infantry or dismounted cavalry--don't +know which."</p> +<p>"Please describe their position."</p> +<p>"Don't know a thing except that they could be seen drawn up +across the road--a mile out there," pointing.</p> +<p>"In the woods?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Captain--"</p> +<p>"No, only lieutenant."</p> +<p>"Beg pardon, sir; won't you be so good as to send a man with me +to the point from which the rebels could be seen at dark?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I'll do that much for you. Here, Johnson!"</p> +<p>As Johnson and I rode forward, I tried to get all he knew--but +he knew nothing; he had no idea whether the enemy were cavalry or +infantry, whether they had retired or were yet in position, or how +many they were. The moon was almost overhead; the sandy road +muffled the sounds of the horses' hoofs; no noise came from front +or rear. The way was through the woods; in little more than half a +mile open ground was seen ahead. Johnson stopped; so did I.</p> +<p>"They are on the other side of the field," said he,</p> +<p>"How wide is the field?"</p> +<p>"A quarter, I guess."</p> +<p>"What was planted in the field last year?"</p> +<p>"Corn."</p> +<p>"Stalks still standing?"</p> +<p>"Yes, but they are very small."</p> +<p>"Does the road run between fences?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"How far does the field extend to our right?"</p> +<p>"Only a short distance--a few hundred yards."</p> +<p>"And to our left?"</p> +<p>"Farther--about a half a mile, maybe."</p> +<p>"Any houses?"</p> +<p>"Yes, on the other side, where the rebels were."</p> +<p>"A farmhouse?"</p> +<p>"Yes, and other buildings--stables and the like."</p> +<p>"Which side of the road?"</p> +<p>"The left."</p> +<p>Johnson could answer no further questions; I let him go.</p> +<p>How had the black horse passed on? Delay might mean my arrival +at Franklin's position later than that of the black horse, or it +might mean success. If the rebels had abandoned this position at +nightfall, I should be wasting time here by taking precautions; if +they were yet yonder in the woods on the other side of the field, +they would capture me if I rode on. Which course should I take--the +safe course, or the possible speedy course? I took the safe course. +Dismounting I tied my horse to a swinging limb, and crept forward +on the right of the right-hand fence, until I reached the woods +beyond the field. I looked over the fence into the road. There was +no enemy visible. The house at the west was without lights, and +there was no noise of barking dogs or of anything else; clearly the +rebels had moved, and by my prudence the black horse had gained +further upon me. I got into the road and ran back to my horse, +mounted hurriedly and rode forward at a gallop for half a mile; +then I slowed to a walk. How far had the rebels gone? Might I not +expect a challenge at any moment? I must not let a first +disappointment control my reason. The roads were bad; the retreat +of the rebels was necessarily slow, as they had many wagon trains +to protect. The road must be forsaken at the first path that would +lead me to the right; any bridle-path would lead me somewhere. The +night was clear, and the stars would guide me until I should reach +some better ground. The sketch furnished me gave me only the main +road, with the branch roads marked down for very short distances. I +would take one of the branch roads leading to the right; there must +be roads leading up the York; all the country is interlaced with +roads small and large. I would risk it; better do that than risk +falling into the enemy's hands.</p> +<p>I was thus cogitating when a sound reached me. I thought I could +distinguish a horse's footfall. I stopped--the sound was +louder--coming and coming fast. I dismounted and led my horse into +the woods a few yards and covered his mouth with my hands. Still +the sounds reached me--the constant cadence of a galloping horse, +yet coming from far. Who could be riding fast this night? Who could +be riding south this night? The rebels were going north; no rebel +horseman would ride south to-night.</p> +<p>The sounds increased now rapidly, and soon a single horse dashed +by; I could not see the rider for the boughs of the trees, but I +saw a black horse going south.</p> +<p>Was this the messenger who had outstripped me at the start? I +could not know, but the horse was black. Why not brown? How could I +be sure that in the moonlight I could tell black from brown, or +black from bay? I could not answer, yet I felt confidence in my +first impression. The lieutenant had said the man's horse was +black. How did the lieutenant know? Had he seen the horse by day? +Had he brought a light? The horse must be very black. To satisfy my +mind I led my horse into the road and slipped the bridle round his +foreleg; then retired a few yards and looked at him--he had not the +colour of the black horse; he was a deep bay.</p> +<p>Why was the black horse returning? Doubtless the enemy had been +found far up the road, and the messenger could not get through +them. Who else would be riding fast down this road? If the rider +were a rebel, he would ride slow. Our men would ride fast toward +our own lines; this rider was one of ours. Who was he? He was the +messenger on the black horse. Why should he ride so fast to the +rear? He was seeking a new road; perhaps he knew of another road, +and was hurrying now because he had already lost time and his new +road would be longer and would make him lose more.</p> +<p>Yet I went on up the road. I had heard the galloping of the +black horse far off, and I knew that I could go half a mile before +I should encounter the enemy. I was ahead of the black horse.</p> +<p>After riding five minutes slowly on, I came to a small field on +the right of the road; in the field was a cabin. I paused, and +considered. The cabin, no doubt, was deserted; but if it were +occupied, what should I fear? I was in citizen's dress. If any one +was now in the cabin, I might get information; if it was deserted, +I could explore the ground about it, for I hoped that some path +connected this place with other fields and perhaps other roads to +the north. I dismounted and approached the door and knocked. There +was no response. I pushed the door, and it opened; the place had +been vacated. I searched the grounds; there was a well in the back +yard, and I lost the hope that I should find a path leading to a +spring, and perhaps beyond. I diligently and painfully continued my +search, and at length was rewarded by seeing a stile in the back +fence. I went back and mounted, and rode round the little field to +the stile, and took the path leading from it due north. I reached +the woods, and was compelled to dismount, for the branches of the +trees overhung the path and constantly barred my way. Leading my +horse, I continued on and came to a larger field where, at the +fence, the path connected with, a narrow plantation road which I +knew, from the ruts, wagons had used. I went to the right, no +longer dismounted, and going at a fast trot. My road was running in +a northeast course, but soon the corner of the field was reached, +and then it branched, one branch going to the north, the other +continuing northeast Which should I take? I could not hesitate; I +rode north, and kept on pursuing this narrow road for nearly a +mile, I supposed. Where I was I did not know, but I felt sure that +I was flanking the rebels who had stopped the black horse. I +considered the plan of trying now to get back into the main road +again, but rejected the thought, for no doubt Johnston's army was +stretched along this road for many miles; no doubt it was only the +rear-guard picket that had turned back my unknown friend who had +preceded me. I would keep on, and I did keep on, getting almost +lost sometimes, passing farms and woods and streams, forsaking one +path for a worse one, if the latter favoured my course, until at +last, after great anxiety, and fatigue of body and mind, I reached +a wide road running northwest. I had come, I supposed, four or five +miles from the stile.</p> +<p>Now I no longer feared the rebel army. That was at my left in +the road to Richmond. This road I was on led up the York. The map +was worthless now. Of course, I might run foul of scouts and flying +parties; those people I must watch for.</p> +<p>I supposed it was one o'clock, and that I yet had fifteen miles +to go, for I had made my route much longer than the main road; but +I counted that I had gained greatly, for I was in comparative +safety, and had five hours yet. The road ahead I knew nothing +about, but it was running in the correct course for Eltham's +Landing high up on the river.</p> +<p>Soon I came to a fork. Which branch should I take? If I should +take the right, it was chance for chance that I should go straight +off to the York, and I wanted to go up the York; if I should take +the left, it was chance for chance that I should ride straight to +the enemy on the Richmond road.</p> +<p>I took the left. To go to the river meant almost the loss of +hope thereafter. I would go toward the enemy for a little distance, +but would take the first bridle-path to the right, some road or +bridle-path branching out of this, and running up the river. But my +progress became exceedingly slow, for I feared always to miss +seeing some blind road leading to the right, and my carefulness +again cost me a little time, perhaps, for I found a path, and took +it, going with great caution for a furlong, to find that it entered +a larger road. If I had not taken this path, I should have soon +reached this good road at its junction, and time would have been +saved by increased speed; yet I did not blame myself, and went on +with renewed hope and faster, for although the moon was getting far +down the sky, my road was good and was running straight toward my +end.</p> +<p>But at length, as I was going over a sandy stretch, I heard +hoof-beats behind me, and the sound grew, and I knew that some +night rider was following fast. What is he? A rebel or a Federal? +Loud ring the strokes of the horse's irons and louder behind me; I +must run or I must slip aside.</p> +<p>I chose to let him pass. To be pursued would have been to throw +up the game; all then would have been lost. I left the road and hid +in the shadowy woods. On came the rider, and as the thundering +hoofs hit the road within ten paces of my stand, I saw again the +black horse belly to the ground in the moonlight.</p> +<p>Almost at once I started in pursuit. I would keep this man +before me; if he should run upon rebels, the alarm would reach me; +so long as he should be in my front, safety for me was at the front +and danger elsewhere. I pursued, keeping within sight where the +road stretches were long, going slowly where the ground was hard, +lest the noise of my approach should be heard. Yet I had no +difficulty; the courier was straining every nerve to reach his +destination, and regarded not his rear. He crossed roads in haste, +and by this I knew that the road was to him familiar; he paused +never, but kept his horse at an even gallop through forest and +through field, while I followed by jerks, making my horse run at +times, and again, fearing I was too near, bringing him back to +slower speed. For miles I followed the black horse.</p> +<p>But now I saw that the night was further spent than I had +supposed; light was coming behind me, and the moon was low in the +west. How far to the end? The black horse is going more slowly; he +has gone many weary miles more than mine has gone; his rider is +urging him to the utmost; I can see him dig his spurs again and +again into the sides of the noble beast, and see him strike, and I +see him turn where the road turns ahead of me, and I ride faster to +recover him; and now I see black smoke rising at my right hand, and +I hear the whistle of the Union steam vessels, and I almost cry for +joy, and at the turning of the road my horse rears and almost +throws me to the ground, and I see the black horse lying dead, and +I spur my horse to pass, and give a cry of terror as a man springs +from the left, with carbine presented, and shouts, "Your horse! +your horse! Dismount at once, or I'll blow your brains out!"</p> +<p>For the rider of the black horse was a Confederate!</p> +<p>Shall I ever forget that moment of dismay and anguish? Even as I +write the thrill of horror returns, and I see a picture of the +past:--the daybreak; a lonely road in the forest; two men and two +horses, each pair as unlike as life and death, for one's horse was +dead and the other man was about to die. Had I been so utterly +foolish! Why had I conceived absolutely that this rider was a +Federal? How could a Federal know the road so well that he had gone +over it at full speed, never hesitating, never deflecting into a +wrong course? The instant before, I had been in heaven, for I had +known my safe destination was at hand; now, I felt that my end had +come to me, for my terror was for myself and not for a lost +mission, and I cannot remember that in that smallest second of time +any other hope was in me but that of riding this man down and +reaching our troops with a mortal bullet in my body.</p> +<p>In a second the world may be changed--in a second the world +<i>was</i> changed. I saw my captor's gun drop from his hands; I +saw his hands go up. I looked round; in the road behind me--blessed +sight--were two Union soldiers with their muskets levelled at the +man in gray.</p> +<p>"Take me at once to General Franklin."</p> +<p>Again I was thunderstruck--two voices had shouted the same +words!</p> +<p>The revulsion turned me stomach-sick; the rider of the black +horse was a Federal in disguise!</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>General Franklin advanced, and met the enemy advancing. For no +error on my part, my mission was a failure.</p> +<p>"How could you know the road so well for the last ten miles of +it?" I asked of Jones, the rider of the black horse.</p> +<p>"That horse was going home!"</p> +<p>"A horse captured from the rebels?"</p> +<p>"No; impressed only yesterday from a farmer near the landing. +You see he had already made that road and was not in the best +condition to make it again so soon; then I had to turn about more +than once. I suppose that horse must have made nearly a hundred +miles in twenty-four hours."</p> +<p>Jones was of Porter's escort, and had on this occasion served as +General Porter's messenger.</p> +<p>On the next day, the 8th, I returned to the Sanitary Camp.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XIV"></a>XIV</h2> +<h3>OUT OF SORTS</h3> +<center>"Your changed complexions are to me a mirror<br> +Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be<br> +A party in this alteration, finding<br> +Myself thus altered with it."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>It would have been quite impossible for me to analyze my feeling +for Dr. Khayme. His affection for me was unconcealed, and I was +sure that no other man was received as his companion--not that he +was distant, but that he was not approached. By nature I am +affectionate, but at that time my emotions were severely and almost +continually repressed by my will, because of a condition of nervous +sensitiveness in regard to the possibility of an exposure of my +peculiarity, so that I often wondered whether the Doctor fully +understood the love and reverence I bore him.</p> +<p>On the morning following the day last spoken of--that is to say, +on the morning of May 9th--Dr. Khayme rode off to the old William +and Mary College, now become a hospital, leaving me to my devices, +as he said, for some hours. I was sitting on a camp-stool in the +open air, busily engaged in cleaning my gun and accoutrements, when +I saw a man coming toward me. It was Willis.</p> +<p>"Where is the Doctor?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Gone to the hospital; want to see him?"</p> +<p>"That depends."</p> +<p>"He will be back in an hour or two. Boys all right?" I brought +out a camp-stool; Willis remained standing.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; what's left of 'em. Say, Berwick, what's this I hear +about your being detailed for special work?"</p> +<p>"So," said I.</p> +<p>"What in the name o' God will you have to do?"</p> +<p>Willis's tone was not so friendly as I had known it to be; +besides, I had observed that he called me Berwick rather than +Jones. His attitude chilled me. I did not wish to talk to him about +myself. We talk about personal matters to personal friends. I +suppose, too, that I am peculiar in such things; at any rate, so +great was my distaste to talking now with Willis on the subject in +question that I did not succeed in hiding my feeling.</p> +<p>"Oh," says he, "you needn't say it if you don't want to."</p> +<p>"I feel," said I, "as though I should be speaking of personal +matters, perhaps too personal."</p> +<p>"Well, I don't want to force myself on anybody," said he; then +he asked, "How long are you going to stay with Dr. Khayme?"</p> +<p>It flashed upon me in an instant that Willis was jealous,--not +of the little distinction that had been shown me,--but in regard to +Lydia, and I felt a great desire to relieve him of any fear of my +being or becoming his rival. Yet I did not see how I could +introduce a subject so delicate. In order to gain time, I replied: +"Well, I don't know exactly; I am subject to orders from brigade +headquarters. If no orders come, I shall stay here a day or two; if +we march, I suppose I shall march with the company, unless the +division is in the rear."</p> +<p>"If the division marches and Dr. Khayme remains here, what will +you do?" he asked.</p> +<p>This was increasing, I thought; to encourage him to proceed, I +asked, "Why do you wish to know?"</p> +<p>"Because," said he, hesitatingly, "because I think you ought to +show your hand."</p> +<p>"Please tell me exactly what you mean by that," said I.</p> +<p>"You know very well what I mean," he replied.</p> +<p>"Let us have no guesswork," said I; "if you want to say +anything, this is a good time for saying it."</p> +<p>"Well, then, I will," said he; "you know that I like Miss +Lydia."</p> +<p>"Well?"</p> +<p>"And I thought you were my friend."</p> +<p>"I am your friend."</p> +<p>"Then why do you get into my way?"</p> +<p>"If I am in your way, it is more than I know," said I; "what +would you have me to do?"</p> +<p>"If you are my friend, you will keep out of my way."</p> +<p>"Do you mean to say that I ought not to visit the Doctor?"</p> +<p>"If you visit the Doctor, you ought to make it plain to him why +you visit him."</p> +<p>"Sergeant," said I; "Dr. Khayme knows very well why I visit him. +I have no idea that he considers me a bidder for his daughter."</p> +<p>"Well; you may be right, and then again, you may be wrong."</p> +<p>"And you would have me renounce Dr. Khayme's society in order to +favour your hopes?"</p> +<p>"I did not say that. You are perfectly welcome to Dr. Khayme's +company; but I do think that you ought not to let him believe that +you want Miss Lydia."</p> +<p>"Shall I tell him that you say that?"</p> +<p>"I can paddle my own canoe; you are not my mouthpiece," he +replied angrily.</p> +<p>"Then would you have me tell him that I do not want Miss +Lydia?"</p> +<p>"Tell him what you like, or keep silent if you like; all I've +got to say is that if you are my friend you will not stand in my +way."</p> +<p>"It seems to me, Sergeant," said I, "that you are forcing me +into a very delicate position. For me to go to Dr. Khayme and +explain to him that my attachment to him is not a piece of +hypocrisy played by me in order to win his daughter, would not be +satisfactory to the Doctor or to me, or even to Miss Khayme."</p> +<p>"Why not to her?" he asked abruptly.</p> +<p>"Because my explanation could not be made except upon my +assumption that she supposes me a suitor; it would amount to my +saying, 'I don't want you,' and more than that, as you can easily +see. I decline to put myself into such a position. I prefer to +assume that she does not regard me as a suitor, and that the Doctor +receives me only as an old pupil. I beg you to stay here until the +Doctor comes, and talk to him yourself. I can promise you one +thing: I shall not hinder you; I'll give you a clear field."</p> +<p>"Do you mean to say that you will give me a clear field with +Miss Lydia?"</p> +<p>"Not exactly that, but very nearly. You have no right to expect +me to say to anybody that Miss Lydia does not attract me, and it +would be silly, presumptuous, conceited in me to yield what I have +not. I can tell you this: I have not spoken a word to Miss Lydia +that I would not speak to any woman, or to any man for that matter, +and I can say that I have not one degree of claim upon her."</p> +<p>"Then you will keep out of my way?"</p> +<p>"I repeat that I am not in your way. If I should say that I will +keep out of your way, I would imply what is not true; the young +lady is absolutely free so far as I am concerned."</p> +<p>At this point the Doctor came up. He shook hands with Willis and +went into his tent. I urged Willis to follow, but he would not. I +offered to lead the conversation into the matter in which he was so +greatly interested, but he would not consent.</p> +<p>The Doctor reappeared. "Lydia will be here to-night," he +said.</p> +<p>"You surprise me, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Yes; but I am now pretty sure that we shall be here for a week +to come, and we shall not move our camp before the rear division +moves. Lydia will find enough to do here."</p> +<p>Willis soon took his leave. I accompanied him for a short +distance; on parting with him I told him that he might expect to +see me again at night.</p> +<p>"What!" said he; "you are going to leave the Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I replied; "expect me to-night."</p> +<p>Willis looked puzzled; he did not know what to say, and said +nothing.</p> +<p>When I entered the Doctor's tent, I found him busily writing. He +looked up, then went on with his work. Presently, still continuing +to write, he said, "So Willis is angry."</p> +<p>"Why do you say so, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Anybody could have seen it in his manner," said he.</p> +<p>I tried to evade. "He was out of sorts," said I.</p> +<p>"What does 'out of sorts' mean?" asked the Doctor. Then, before +I could reply, he continued: "I have often thought of that +expression; it is a good one; it means to say gloomy, depressed, +mentally unwell, physically ill perhaps. Yes, Willis is out of +sorts. Out of sorts means mixed, unclassified, unassorted, having +one's functions disordered. One who cannot separate his functions +distinctly is unwell and, necessarily, miserable. Willis showed +signs of dementia; his brain is not acting right. I think I can +cure him."</p> +<p>I said nothing. In the Doctor's tone there was not a shade of +sarcasm.</p> +<p>He continued: "Perfect sanity would be impossible to predicate +of any individual; doubtless there are perfectly sane persons, that +is, sane at times, but to find them would be like finding the +traditional needle. I suppose our good friend Willis would rank +higher than the average, after all is said."</p> +<p>"Willis is a good soldier," said I, "and a good sergeant."</p> +<p>"Yes, no doubt he is; he ought to know that he is just the man +for a soldier and a sergeant, and be content."</p> +<p>Now, of course, I knew that Dr. Khayme, by his clear knowledge +of nature, not to say more, was able to read Willis; but up to this +time I had not suspected that Willis's hopes in regard to Lydia had +alarmed or offended my learned friend; so I continued to beat round +the subject.</p> +<p>"I cannot see," said I, "why Willis might not aspire to a +commission. If the war continues, there will be many chances for +promotion."</p> +<p>"The war will continue," he said, "and Willis may win a +commission. The difference between a lieutenant and a sergeant is +greater in pay than in qualification; in fact, a good +orderly-sergeant is a rarer man than a good captain. Let Willis +have his commission. Let that be his ambition, if he persists in +murdering people."</p> +<p>The Doctor was yet writing busily. I wondered whether his words +were intended as a hint for me to speak to Willis; of course I +could do nothing of the kind. I felt that this whole affair was +very delicate. Willis had gone so far as to make me infer that he +was very much afraid of me: why? Could it be possible that he saw +more than I could see? No, that was a suggestion of mere vanity; he +simply dreaded Dr. Khayme's well-known partiality for me; he +feared, not me, but the Doctor. I was uneasy. I examined myself; I +thought of my past conduct in regard to Lydia, and found nothing to +condemn. I had been rather more distant, I thought, than was +necessary. I must preserve this distance.</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I, "good-by till to-morrow; I shall stay with the +company to-night."</p> +<p>He looked up. "You will see Willis?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I suppose so."</p> +<p>"You might say to him, if you think well, that I thought he left +us rather abruptly to-day, and that I don't think he is very +well."</p> +<p>"I hope to see you again to-morrow, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Very well, my boy; good-by till to-morrow; you will find me +here by ten o'clock."</p> +<p>When I reached the company I did not see Willis; he was off on +duty somewhere. On the next morning, however, he came in, and +everything passed in the friendliest way possible, at first. +Evidently he was pleased with me for absenting myself from Lydia. +But he soon learned that I was to return to the Sanitary Camp, and +his countenance changed at once.</p> +<p>"What am I to think of you?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I trust you will think well of me," I replied; "I am doing you +no wrong. You are not well. The Doctor noticed it."</p> +<p>"He said that I was not well?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, he is wrong for once; I am as well as I ever was in my +life."</p> +<p>"He said you left very suddenly yesterday."</p> +<p>"I suppose I did leave suddenly; but I saw no reason to remain +longer."</p> +<p>"Willis," said I, "let us talk seriously. Why do you not speak +to Miss Lydia and her father? Why not end this matter one way or +the other?"</p> +<p>"I haven't seen Miss Lydia since you left us in February," said +he; "how can I speak to her?"</p> +<p>"But you can speak to Dr. Khayme."</p> +<p>"Yes, I could speak to Dr. Khayme, but I don't consider him the +one to speak to first, and to tell you the truth I'm afraid of it. +It's got to be done, but I feel that I have no chance; that's +what's hurting me."</p> +<p>"Then I'd have it over with, as soon as possible," said I.</p> +<p>"That's easier said than done; but I intend to have it over; +it's doing me no good. I wish I'd never seen her."</p> +<p>"Why don't you write?"</p> +<p>"I've thought of that, but I concluded I wouldn't. It looked +cowardly not to face the music."</p> +<p>"My dear fellow," said I, "there is no cowardice in it at all. +You ought to do it, or else bury the whole thing, and I don't +suppose you can do that."</p> +<p>"No, I can't do that; if I don't see her shortly, I shall +write."</p> +<p>I was very glad to hear this. From what he had just said, +coupled with my knowledge of the Doctor and of Lydia, I did not +think his chance worth a penny, and I felt certain that the best +thing for him to do was to bring matters to a conclusion. He would +recover sooner.</p> +<p>At ten o'clock I was with Dr. Khayme. He told me that Lydia had +arrived in the night, and that he had just accompanied her to the +hospital.</p> +<p>"And how is our friend Willis to-day?" he asked; "is he a little +less out of sorts?"</p> +<p>"He is friendly to-day, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Did you tell him that I remarked about his abrupt manner?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Very well. I now I want to talk to you about your future work, +Jones. I have thought of your suggestion that you wear Confederate +uniform, while scouting."</p> +<p>"And you do not oppose it?"</p> +<p>"Decide for yourself. I cannot conscientiously take part in war; +all I can do is to endeavour to modify its evil, and try to turn it +to good."</p> +<p>The Doctor talked long and deeply upon these matters, and ended +by saying that he would get me Confederate clothing from some +wounded prisoner. Then he began a discussion of the principles +which the respective sections were fighting for.</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I; "awhile ago, when I was urging that a scout +would be of greater service to his cause if he disguised himself, +as my friend Jones does, you seemed to doubt my assertion that the +best thing for the rebels was their quick defeat."</p> +<p>"I remember it."</p> +<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind."</p> +<p>"It is this, Jones: America must be united, or else dis-severed. +I believe in the world-idea; although I condemn this war, I believe +in the Union. The difference between us is, that I do not believe +and you do believe that the way to preserve the Union is going to +war. But war has come. Now, since it has come, I think I can see +that an easy defeat of the Southern armies will not bring about a +wholesome reunion. For the people of the two sections to live in +harmony, there must be mutual respect, and there must be +self-respect. An easy triumph over the South would cause the North +great vainglory and the South great humiliation. Granting war, it +should be such as to effect as much good and as little harm as +possible. The South, if she ever comes back into the Union +respecting herself, must be exhausted by war; she must be able to +know that she did all she could, and the North must know that the +South proved herself the equal of the North in everything manly and +respectable. So I say that I should fear a future Union founded +upon an easy submission; there would be scorners and scorned--not +friends."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XV"></a>XV</h2> +<h3>WITH THE DOCTOR ON THE RIGHT</h3> +<center>"The respects thereof are nice and trivial,<br> +All circumstances well considered."<br> + --SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>For some days the brigade remained near Williamsburg. We learned +that a part of the army had gone up York River by water, and was +encamped near White House, and that General McClellan's +headquarters were at or near that place.</p> +<p>Then the division moved and camped near Roper's Church. We heard +that the rebels had destroyed the <i>Merrimac</i>. Heavy rains +fell. Hooker's division was still in reserve, and had little to do +except to mount camp guard. I had nothing to do. We had left Dr. +Khayme in his camp near Williamsburg.</p> +<p>I had not seen Lydia, Willis's manner changed from nervousness +to melancholy. It was a week before he told me that he had written +to Miss Lydia, and had been refused. The poor fellow had a hard +time of it, but he fought himself hard, and I think I helped him a +little by taking him into my confidence in regard to my own +troubles. I was moved to do this by the belief that, if I should +tell Willis about my peculiarities, which in my opinion would make +marriage a crime for me, he would find companionship in sorrow +where he had thought to find rivalry, and cease to think entirely +of his own unhappiness. I was not wrong; he seemed to appreciate my +intention and to be softened. I endeavoured also to stir up his +ambition as a soldier, and had the great pleasure of seeing him +begin seriously to study tactics and even strategy.</p> +<p>From Roper's Church we moved by short marches in rear of the +other divisions of the army, until, on the 21st, we were near the +Chickahominy, and still in reserve. Here I received a note from the +Doctor, who informed me that his camp was just in our rear. I went +at once.</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "how do you like doing nothing?"</p> +<p>"I haven't quite tired of it yet," I said.</p> +<p>"Your regiment has had a good rest."</p> +<p>"I wonder how much longer we shall be held in reserve."</p> +<p>"A good while yet, to judge from what I can hear," he said. "I +am authorized to move to the right, and of course that means that I +shall be in greater demand there."</p> +<p>"I wish I could go with you," said I.</p> +<p>"Why should you hesitate to do so?" he asked; "what are your +orders?"</p> +<p>"There has been no change. I have no orders at all except to +keep the adjutant of the Eleventh informed as to my +whereabouts."</p> +<p>"How frequently must you report in person?"</p> +<p>"There was nothing said about that. I suppose a note will do," +said I.</p> +<p>"Your division was so severely handled at Williamsburg that I +cannot think it will be brought into action soon unless there +should be a general engagement. If you can report in writing every +two or three days, you need not limit your work or your presence to +any particular part of the line."</p> +<p>"But the right must be many miles from our division."</p> +<p>"No," said the Doctor; "from Hooker's division to your present +right is not more than five miles; the distance will be greater, +though, in a few days."</p> +<p>"What is going on, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"McDowell is at Fredericksburg, with a large Confederate force +in his front, and--but let me get a map and show you the +situation."</p> +<p>He went to a small chest and brought out a map, which he spread +on a camp-bed.</p> +<p>"Here you see Fredericksburg; McDowell is just south of it. +Here, about this point, called Guiney's, is a Confederate division +under General Anderson. McClellan has urged Washington to +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."</p> +<p>"Then in neither event can this army take Richmond," said I.</p> +<p>"Don't go too fast; I am speaking of movements for the next ten +days; afterward, new combinations may be made. In case McDowell +comes, it will take ten days for his movement to be completed, and +your right wing would move to meet him if need be, rather than move +forward and leave him. To move forward would expose McDowell's +flank to the Confederates near Guiney's, and it is feared that +Jackson is not far from them. Am I clear?"</p> +<p>"Yes; it seems clear that our right will not cross; but suppose +McDowell does not come."</p> +<p>"In that case," said the Doctor, "for McClellan's right to cross +the Chickahominy would be absurd, for the reason that a Confederate +force, supposed to be from Jackson's army, has nearly reached +Hanover Court-House--here--in the rear of your right, if you +advance; besides, to cross the Chickahominy with the whole army +would endanger your supplies. You see, this Chickahominy River is +an awkward thing to cross; if it should rise suddenly, the army on +the south side might starve before the men could get rations; all +that the Confederates would have to do would be to prevent wagon +trains from crossing the bridges. And another thing--defeat, with +the river behind the army, would mean destruction. McClellan will +not cross his army; he will throw only his left across."</p> +<p>"But why should he cross with any at all? It seems to me that +with a wing on either side, he would be in very great danger of +being beaten in detail."</p> +<p>"You are right in that. But he feels compelled to do something; +he makes a show of advancing, in order to keep up appearances; the +war department already thinks he has lost too much time and has +shown too little aggressiveness. McClellan is right in preferring +the James River as a base, for he could there have a river on +either flank, and his base would be protected by the fleet; but +this theory was overthrown at first by the <i>Merrimac</i>, and now +that she is out of the way the clamour of the war department +against delay prevents a change of base. So McClellan accepts the +York as his base, but prepares, or at least seems to prepare, for a +change to the James, by throwing forward his left."</p> +<p>"But the left has not been thrown forward."</p> +<p>"It will be done shortly."</p> +<p>"What would happen if McDowell should not be ordered to +reënforce us?"</p> +<p>"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."</p> +<p>"What is that one thing which you except, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"A general attack by the Confederates."</p> +<p>"And you think that is possible?"</p> +<p>"Always possible. The Confederates are quick to attack." "And +you think they are ready to attack?"</p> +<p>"No; I think there is no reason to expect an attack soon, at any +rate a general attack; but when McClellan throws his left wing over +the Chickahominy, the Confederates may attack then."</p> +<p>"Then I ought to be with my regiment," said I.</p> +<p>"Yes," said he; "unless your regiment does not need you, or +unless somebody else needs you more. Hooker will not be engaged +unless your whole left is engaged; you may depend upon that. There +is no possibility of an action for a week to come, and unless the +Confederates attack, there will be no action for a month."</p> +<p>"Then we ought by all means to learn whether the Confederates +intend to attack," said I.</p> +<p>"That is the conclusion of the argument," said the Doctor; "you +can serve your cause better in that way than in any other way. You +are free to go and come on any part of your lines. The right is the +place for you."</p> +<p>"How do you learn all these things, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"By this and that; it requires no great wisdom to enable any one +to see that both armies are in need of delay. McClellan is begging +every day for reënforcements; the Confederates are waiting and +are being reënforced."</p> +<p>"And you are firm in your opinion that I shall risk nothing by +going with you?"</p> +<p>"I am sure that you will risk nothing so far as absence from +your regiment is concerned, and I am equally sure that your +opportunities for service will be better."</p> +<p>"In case I go with you to the right, I must find a means of +reporting to the adjutant almost daily."</p> +<p>"That will be done easily enough; in any emergency I can send a +man."</p> +<p>It was arranged, therefore, that I should remain with Dr. +Khayme, who, on the 22d, moved his camp far to the right, in rear +of General Porter's command, which we found supporting Franklin, +whose troops were nearer the Chickahominy and behind New +Bridge.</p> +<p>Before leaving the regiment I reported to the adjutant, telling +him where I could be found at need, and promising to send in +further reports if Dr. Khayme's camp should be moved. At this +period of the campaign there was but little activity anywhere along +our lines; in fact, the lines had not been fully developed, and, as +there was a difficult stream between us and the enemy, there was no +room for enterprise. Here and there a reconnaissance would be made +in order to learn something of the position of the rebels on the +south side of the river, but such reconnaissances consisted mostly +in merely moving small bodies of our troops up to the swamp and +getting them fired upon by the Confederate artillery posted on the +hills beyond the Chickahominy. On this day, the 22d, while Dr. +Khayme and I were at dinner, we could hear the sounds of guns in +two places, but only a few shots.</p> +<p>"I have your uniform, Jones," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"From a wounded prisoner?"</p> +<p>"Yes; but you need fear nothing. It has seen hard service, but I +have had it thoroughly cleaned. It is not the regulation uniform, +perhaps, since it has the South Carolina State button, but in +everything else it is the correct thing."</p> +<p>"I hope I shall not need it soon," said I.</p> +<p>"Why? Should you not wish to end this miserable affair as +quickly as possible?"</p> +<p>"Oh, of course; but I shall not put on rebel clothing as long as +I can do as well with my own,"</p> +<p>"There is going to be some murderous work up the river--or +somewhere on your right--in a day or two," said the Doctor. +"General Butterfield has given stringent orders for no man to leave +camp for an hour."</p> +<p>"Who is General Butterfield?"</p> +<p>"He commands a brigade in Porter's corps. We are just in rear of +his camp--Morell's division."</p> +<p>"And you suppose that his order indicates the situation +here?"</p> +<p>"Yes; evidently your troops are prepared to move. I am almost +sorry that I have sent for Lydia to come."</p> +<p>"And they will move to the right?"</p> +<p>"Unquestionably; there is no longer any doubt that your right +flank is threatened."</p> +<p>"Then why not fall back to the left?"</p> +<p>"McClellan cannot afford personally to make any movement that +would look like retreat. Your right is threatened, and your right +will hold; it may attack."</p> +<p>"Doctor, why is it that you always say your instead of our?"</p> +<p>"Because I am neutral," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"But your sympathies are with us."</p> +<p>"Only in part; the Southern cause is weak through slavery, but +strong in many other points. I think we have discussed this +before."</p> +<p>That we had done so did not prevent us from discussing it again. +The Doctor seemed never to tire of presenting arguments for the +complete abolition of slavery, while his even balance of mind +allowed him to sympathize keenly with the political contention of +the South.</p> +<p>We had been talking for half an hour or so, when we heard some +one approaching.</p> +<p>The Doctor rose and admitted an officer. I saluted; then I was +presented to Captain Auchmuty, of General Morell's staff.</p> +<p>"I am afraid that my visit will not prove pleasant, Doctor," he +said. "General Morell has learned that Mr. Berwick is here, and +proposes to borrow him, if possible."</p> +<p>The captain looked first at Dr. Khayme, and then at me; the +Doctor looked at me; I looked at the ground.</p> +<p>The captain continued, "Of course, General Morell understands +that he is asking a favour rather than giving an order; but if he +knows the circumstances, he believes you are ready to go anywhere +you may be needed."</p> +<p>"General Morell is very kind," said I; "may I know what work is +required of me?"</p> +<p>"Nothing is required; that is literally true." said Captain +Auchmuty. "General Morell asks a favour; if you will be so good as +to accompany me to his tent, you shall have the matter +explained."</p> +<p>The courtesy with which General Morell was treating me--for he +could just as easily have sent for me by his orderly--made me think +myself his debtor.</p> +<p>"I will go with you, Captain," said I; "good-by, Doctor."</p> +<p>"No," said the captain; "you will not be taken so suddenly. I +promise that you may return in an hour."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVI"></a>XVI</h2> +<h3>BETWEEN THE LINES</h3> +<center>"Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth,<br> +To know the number of our enemies."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>In General Morell's tent were two officers, afterward known to +me as Generals Morell and Butterfield. It was not yet quite +dark.</p> +<p>The officer who had conducted me, presented me to General +Morell. In the conversation which followed, General Butterfield +seemed greatly interested, but took no part at all.</p> +<p>General Morell spoke kindly to me. "I have sent for you," he +said, "because I am told that you are faithful, and that you are +prudent as well as accurate. We need information, and I hope you +will get it for us."</p> +<p>"I am willing to do my best, General," said I, "provided that my +absence is explained to General Grover's satisfaction."</p> +<p>"It is General Grover himself who recommends you," said he; "he +is willing to let us profit by your services while his brigade is +likely to remain inactive. I will show you his note."</p> +<p>Captain Auchmuty handed me an open note; I read from General +Grover the expression used by General Morell.</p> +<p>"This is perfectly satisfactory, General," I said; "I will do my +best for you."</p> +<p>"No man can do more. Now, come here. Look at this map, which you +will take with you if you wish."</p> +<p>The general moved his seat up to a camp-bed, on which he spread +the map. I was standing; he made me take a seat near him.</p> +<p>"First, I will show you generally what I want you to do; how you +are to do it, you must decide for yourself. Here," said he, putting +the point of his pencil on the map, "here is where we are now. Up +here is Hanover Junction, with Hanover Court-House several miles +this side--about this spot. You are to get to both places and find +out if the enemy is at either, or both, and in what force. If he is +not at either place, you are to move along the railroad in the +direction of Richmond, until you find the enemy."</p> +<p>"Are there not two railroads at Hanover Junction, General?"</p> +<p>"Yes, the Virginia Central and the Richmond and Fredericksburg; +they cross at the Junction."</p> +<p>"Which railroad shall I follow?"</p> +<p>"Ah, I see you are careful. It will be well for you to learn +something of the situation on both of them; but take the Central if +you are compelled to choose--the one nearest to us."</p> +<p>"Well, sir."</p> +<p>"If no enemy is found within eight or ten miles of the Junction, +you need not trouble yourself further; but if he is found in say +less than eight miles of the Junction, you are to diligently get +all the knowledge you can of his position, his force in all arms, +and, if possible, his purposes."</p> +<p>"I suppose that by the enemy you mean some considerable body, +not a mere scouting party."</p> +<p>"Yes, of course. Hunt for big game. Don't bother with raiders or +foragers."</p> +<p>"The Junction seems to be on the other side of the Pamunkey +River," said I.</p> +<p>"Yes; it is between the North Anna and the South Anna, which +form the Pamunkey a few miles below the Junction."</p> +<p>"Then, supposing that I find the rebels in force at Hanover +Court-House, would there be any need for me to go on to the +Junction?"</p> +<p>"None at all," said the general; "you would only be losing time; +in case you find the enemy in force anywhere, you must return and +inform us just as soon as you can ascertain his strength. But if +you find no enemy at Hanover Court-House, or near it, or even if +you find a small force, such as a party of cavalry, you should try +to get to the Junction."</p> +<p>"Very well, General; how long do you expect me to be gone?"</p> +<p>"I can give you four days at the outside."</p> +<p>"Counting to-night?"</p> +<p>"No; beginning to-morrow. I shall expect you by the morning of +the 27th, and shall hope to see you earlier."</p> +<p>"I shall not wish to be delayed," said I.</p> +<p>"You shall have horses; relays if you wish," said he.</p> +<p>"In returning shall I report to any officer I first chance to +meet?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No; not unless you know the enemy to be particularly active; in +that case, use your judgment; of course you would not let any force +of ours run the risk of being surprised, but, all things equal, +better reserve your report for me."</p> +<p>"And shall I find you here, sir?"</p> +<p>"If I am not here, you may report to General Butterfield; if +this command moves, I will leave orders for you."</p> +<p>"At about what point will my danger begin, General?"</p> +<p>"You will be in danger from scouting parties of the rebel +cavalry from the moment when you reach this point," putting his +pencil on a spot marked Old Church, "and you will be delayed in +getting around them perhaps. You have a full day to Hanover +Court-House, and another day to the Junction, if you find that you +must go there; that gives you two days more; but if you find the +enemy at the Court-House, you may get back in three days."</p> +<p>"Why should I go by Old Church?"</p> +<p>"Well, it seems longer, but it will prove shorter in the end; +the country between Old Church and Mechanicsville is neutral +ground, and you would be delayed in going through it."</p> +<a name="186.png"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/186.png" width="50%" alt=""></p> +<p>"Am I to report the conditions between Old Church and Hanover +Court-House?"</p> +<p>"Take no time for that, but impress the character of the roads +and the profile of the country on your mind--I mean in regard to +military obstacles; of course if you find rebels in there, a force, +I mean--look into them."</p> +<p>"Well, sir, I am ready."</p> +<p>"You may have everything you want; as many men as you want, +mounted or afoot; can you start to-morrow morning, Berwick?"</p> +<p>"Yes, General; by daylight I want to be at Old Church. Please +have a good man to report to me two hours before day."</p> +<p>"Mounted?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; and with a led saddle horse and three days' rations +and corn--or oats would be better. Let him come armed."</p> +<p>"Very well, Berwick. Is that all?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I think that will do. I suppose the man will know the +road to Old Church."</p> +<p>"If not, I will send a guide along. Now, Berwick, good night, +and good luck. You have my thanks, and you shall have more if your +success will justify it."</p> +<p>"Good night, General. I will do my best."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Dr. Khayme argued that I should not make this venture in +disguise, and I had great doubt what to do; however, I at last +compromised matters by deciding to take the Confederate uniform to +be used in case I should need it. A thought occurred to me: +"Doctor," said I, "these palmetto buttons might prove a bad thing. +Suppose I should get into a brigade of Georgians occupying some +position where there are no other troops; what would a Carolinian +be doing amongst them?"</p> +<p>"I have provided for that," said the Doctor; "you see that these +buttons are fastened with rings; here are others that are smooth: +all you have to do is to change when you wish--it takes but a few +moments. However, nobody would notice your buttons unless you +should be within six feet of him and in broad daylight."</p> +<p>"Yet I think it would be better to change now," said I; "there +are more Confederates than Carolinians."</p> +<p>The Doctor assented, and we made the change. I put the palmetto +buttons into my haversack.</p> +<p>Before I slept everything had been prepared for the journey. I +studied the map carefully and left it with the Doctor. The gray +clothing was wrapped in a gum-blanket, to be strapped to the +saddle. My escort was expected to provide for everything else. I +decided to wear a black soft hat of the Doctor's, whose head was as +big as mine, although he weighed about half as much as I did. My +own shoes were coarse enough, and of no peculiar make. In my +pockets I put nothing except a knife, some Confederate money, some +silver coin, and a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South +Carolina--a note which Dr. Khayme possessed and which he insisted +on my taking. There would be nothing on me to show that I was a +Union soldier, except my uniform. I would go unarmed.</p> +<p>Before daylight I was aroused. My man was waiting for me outside +the tent. I intended to slip out without disturbing the Doctor, but +he was already awake. He pressed my hand, but said not a word.</p> +<p>The man and I mounted and took the road, he leading.</p> +<p>"Do you know the way to Old Church?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," said he.</p> +<p>"What is your name?"</p> +<p>"Jones, sir; don't you know me?"</p> +<p>"What? My friend of the black horse?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"But I believe you are in blue this time."</p> +<p>"Yes; I got no orders."</p> +<p>I was glad to have Jones; he was a self-reliant man, I had +already had occasion to know.</p> +<p>We marched rapidly, Jones always in the lead. The air was fine. +The morning star shone tranquil on our right. Vega glittered +overhead, and Capella in the far northeast, while at our front the +handle of the Dipper cut the horizon. The atmosphere was so pure +that I looked for the Pleiades, to count them; they had not +risen.</p> +<p>We passed at first along a road on either side of which troops +lay in bivouac, with here and there the tent of some field officer; +then parks of artillery showed in the fields; then long lines of +wagons, with horses and mules picketed behind. Occasionally we met +a horseman, but nothing was said to him or by him.</p> +<p>Now the encampment was behind us, and we rode along a lane where +nothing was seen except fields and woods.</p> +<p>"Jones," said I; "are you furnished with credentials?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," he replied; "if our pickets or patrols stop us, I +can satisfy them."</p> +<p>At daylight we were halted. Jones rode forward alone, then +returned and explained that our post would admit us. We passed a +mounted vedette, and then went on for a few hundred yards until we +came to a crossroad.</p> +<p>"We are at Old Church," said Jones.</p> +<p>"And we have nobody here?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; our men are over there, but I suppose we are to take +the left here; we have another picket-post half a mile up the +road."</p> +<p>"Then we will stop with them and breakfast," said I. We took to +the left--toward the west. At the picket-post the road forked; a +blacksmith's shop was at the north of the road. The sun had nearly +risen.</p> +<p>The picket consisted of a squad of cavalry under Lieutenant +Russell. He gave me all the information he could. The right-hand +road, by the blacksmith's shop, went across the Totopotomoy Creek +near its mouth, he said, and then went on to the Pamunkey River, +and at the place where it crossed the Pamunkey another road came +in, running down the river from Hanover Court-House. He was sure +that the road which came in was the road from Hanover to the ferry +at Hanover Old Town; he believed the ferry had not yet been +destroyed. This agreed with the map. I asked him where the +left-hand road went. He said he thought it was the main road to +Hanover Court-House; that it ran away from the river for a +considerable distance, but united higher up with the river road. +This also agreed with the map. I had scratched on the lining of my +hat the several roads given on the map as the roads from Old Church +to Hanover Court-House, so that, in case my memory should flag, I +could have some resource, but I found that I could remember without +uncovering.</p> +<p>The lieutenant could tell me little concerning distances; what +he knew did not disaccord with my small knowledge. I asked him if +he knew where the nearest post of the enemy was now. "They are +coming and going," said he; "one day they will be moving, and then +a day will pass without our hearing of them. If they have a post +anywhere, I don't know it."</p> +<p>"And there are none of our men beyond this point?"</p> +<p>"No--nobody at all," said he.</p> +<p>Jones had given the horses a mouthful of oats, and we had +swallowed our breakfast, the lieutenant kindly giving us coffee. +For several reasons I thought it best to take the road to the left: +first, it was away from the river, which the rebels were supposed +to be watching closely; second, the distance seemed not so great; +and, third, it was said to traverse a less populous region.</p> +<p>I had now to determine the order of our advance, and decided +that we should ride forward alternately, at least until we should +strike the crossing of the Totopotomoy Creek; so I halted Jones, +rode forward for fifty yards or so, then stopped and beckoned to +him to come on. As he went by me I told him to continue to advance +until he should reach, a turn in the road; then he should halt and +let me pass him. At the first stop he made I saw with pleasure that +he had the good judgment to halt on the side of the road amongst +the bushes. I now rode up to him in turn, and paused before +passing.</p> +<p>"You have kept your eyes on the stretch, in front?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"And have seen nothing?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; not a thing."</p> +<p>"You understand why we advance in this manner?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I can watch for you, and you can watch for me, and both +can watch for both."</p> +<p>"Yes, and not only that. We can hardly both be caught at the +same time; one of us might be left to tell the tale."</p> +<p>I went on by. The road here ran through woods, but shortly a +field was seen in front, with a house at the left of the road, and +I changed tactics. When Jones had reached me, we rode together +through the field, went on quickly past the house, and on to +another thicket, in the edge of which we found a school-house; but +just before reaching the thicket I made Jones follow me at the +distance of some forty yards. I had made this change of procedure +because I had been able to see that there was nobody in the stretch +of road passing the house, and I thought it better for two at once +to be exposed to possible view from the house for a minute than one +each for a minute.</p> +<p>We had not seen a soul.</p> +<p>We again proceeded according to our first programme, I riding +forward for fifty yards or so, and Jones passing me, and +alternately thus until we saw, just beyond us, a road coming into +ours from the southwest. On the north of our road, and about two +hundred and fifty yards from the spot where we had halted, was a +farmhouse, which I supposed was the Linney house marked on the map. +The road at the left, I knew from the map, went straight to +Mechanicsville and thence to Richmond, and I suspected that it was +frequently patrolled by the rebel cavalry. We remained in hiding at +a short distance from the house, and consulted. I feared to pass +openly on the road--two roads, in fact--opposite the house, for +discovery and pursuit at this time would mean the abortion of the +whole enterprise. Every family in this section could reasonably be +supposed to have furnished men to the Confederate army near by and, +if we should be seen by any person whomsoever, there was great +probability that our presence would be at once divulged to the +nearest rebels. The result of our consultation was our turning +back. We rode down toward Old Church until we came to a forest +stretching north of the road, which we now left, and made through +the woods a circuit of the Linney house, and reached the Hanover +road again in the low grounds of Totopotomoy Creek. We had seen no +one. The creek bottom was covered with forest and dense +undergrowth. We crossed the creek some distance below the road, and +kept in the woods for a mile without having to venture into the +open.</p> +<p>It was about nine o'clock; we had made something like three +miles since we had left Old Church.</p> +<p>In order to get beyond the next crossroad, it was evident that +we must run some risk of being seen from four directions at once, +or else we must flank the crossing.</p> +<p>By diverging to the right, we found woods to conceal us all the +way until we were in sight of the crossroad. I dismounted, and +bidding Jones remain, crept forward until I could see both ways, up +and down, on the road. There were houses at my left--some two +hundred yards off, and but indistinctly seen through the trees--on +both sides of the road, but no person was visible. Just at my right +the road sank between two elevations. I went to the hollow and +found that from this position the houses could not be seen. I went +back to Jones, and together we led our horses across the road +through the hollow. We mounted and rode rapidly away through the +woods, and reached the Hanover road at a point two miles or more +beyond the Linney house.</p> +<p>We now felt that if there was any post of rebels in these parts +it would be found behind Crump's Creek, which was perhaps half a +mile at our left, running north into the Pamunkey. We turned to the +left and made for Crump's Creek. We found an easy crossing, and we +soon reached the Hanover river road, within four miles, I thought, +of Hanover Court-House.</p> +<p>And now our danger was really to become immediate, and our fear +oppressive. We were in sight of the main road running from Hanover +Court-House down the Pamunkey--a road that was no doubt covered by +the enemy's plans, and on which bodies of his cavalry frequently +operated. If the force at Hanover Court-House, or the Junction, +were seeking to get to the rear of McClellan's right wing, this +would be the road by which it would march; this road then, beyond +all question, was constantly watched, and there was strong +probability that rebels were kept posted in good positions upon it. +But for the fact that I might find it necessary to reach the +Junction, I should now have gone forward afoot.</p> +<p>I decided to use still greater circumspection in going farther +forward, and to get near the enemy's post, if there should prove to +be one, at the Court-House, only after nightfall. Thus we had from +ten o'clock until dark--nine hours or more--in which to make our +gradual approach.</p> +<p>The country was so diversified with woods and fields that we +found it always possible to keep within shelter. When we lost sight +of the road, Jones or I would climb a tree. By making great detours +we went around every field, consuming much time, it is true, but we +had plenty of time. We avoided every habitation, and chose the +thickest of the woods and the deepest of the hollows, and so +conducted our advance that, remarkable as it may seem, from the +time we left our outposts at Old Church until we came in sight of +the enemy near Hanover Court-House, we did not see a human being, +though the distance traversed must have been fully twelve miles. Of +course, I knew that it was very likely that we ourselves had been +seen by more than one frightened inhabitant, but it was my care to +keep at such a distance from every dwelling house that no one there +could tell whether we were friend or enemy.</p> +<p>At noon we took our ease in a hollow in the midst of a thicket. +While we were resting we heard far to our rear a distant sound that +resembled the discharge of artillery. We learned afterward that the +sound came from Mechanicsville, occupied this day by the advance of +McClellan's right.</p> +<p>About two o'clock we again set out. We climbed a hill from which +we could see over a considerable stretch of country. The field in +front of us was large; it would require a long detour to avoid the +open space. Still, we were not pressed for time, and I was +determined to be prudent. The only question was whether we should +flank the field at the right or at the left. From our point of +observation, it seemed to me that the field in front stretched +sufficiently far in the north to reach the Hanover road; if this +were true our only course was by the left. To be as nearly sure as +possible, I sent Jones up a tree. I regretted very much that I had +not brought a good field-glass, and wondered why General Morrell +had not thought of it. Jones remained in the tree a long time; I +had forbidden him speaking, lest the sound of his voice should +reach the ear of some unseen enemy. When he came down he said that +the road did go through the field and that there were men in the +road.</p> +<p>I now climbed the tree in my turn, and saw very distinctly, not +more than half a mile away, a small body of men in the road. They +seemed to be infantry and to be stationary; but while I was looking +they began to move in the direction of Hanover Court-House. There +were bushes on the sides of the road where they were; soon they +passed beyond the bushes, and I could see that the men were +mounted. I watched them until they were lost to sight where the +road entered the woods beyond. I had counted eleven; I supposed +there were ten men under command of an officer.</p> +<p>It was now clear that we must flank the big field on its left. +We acted with great caution. The fence stretched far beyond the +corner of the field; we let down the fence, led our horses in, then +put up the gap, and rode into the woods on the edge of the field. +In some places the undergrowth was low, and we feared that our +heads might be seen above our horses; in such places we dismounted. +We passed at a distance one or two small houses--not dwellings, we +thought, but field barns or cribs. At length we reached the western +side of the field; we had gained greatly in position, though we +were but little nearer to Hanover.</p> +<p>We supposed that we were almost half a mile from the road, and +that we were in no pressing danger. When we had gone north about a +quarter of a mile we dismounted, and while Jones remained with the +horses, I crept through the woods until I could see the road. It +was deserted. I crept nearer and nearer until I was almost on its +edge; sheltered by the bushes I could see a long distance either +way. At my left was a house, some two hundred yards away and on the +far side of the road. I watched the house. The men I had seen in +the road might have stopped in the house; there might be--indeed, +there ought to be--an outpost near me, and this house would +naturally be visited very often. But I saw nothing, and at last +crept back into the woods for a short distance, and advanced again +parallel with the road, until I came, as I supposed, opposite the +house; then I crept up to the road again. I could now see the yard +in front of the house, and even through the house from front to +back door; it was a small house of but two rooms. It now began to +seem as though the house was an abandoned one, in which case the +rebels would likely never stop there, unless for water. I saw no +well in the yard. There was no sign of life.</p> +<p>I turned again and sought the woods, and again advanced parallel +with the road, until, in about three hundred yards, I could see a +field in my front. This field ran up to the road, and beyond the +road there was another field, the road running between rail fences. +I returned to Jones, whom I found somewhat alarmed in consequence +of my long absence, and we brought the horses up to the spot to +which I had advanced. It was now about four o'clock, and we had yet +three hours of daylight. Hanover could not be much more than two +miles from us.</p> +<p>The field in front was not wide; it sloped down to a heavily +wooded hollow, in which I judged there was a stream. As I was yet +quite unsatisfied in regard to the house almost in our rear, I +asked Jones to creep back and observe the place thoroughly.</p> +<p>He returned; I could see news in his face. "They are passing +now," he said.</p> +<p>No need to ask who "they" meant. We took our horses deeper into +the woods. There Jones told me that he had seen some thirty men, in +two squads, more than a hundred yards apart, ride fast toward +Hanover.</p> +<p>"But why could I not see them in the road yonder, as they went +through the field?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Because the road there is washed too deep. Their heads would +not show above the fence," he said.</p> +<p>I tried to fathom the meaning of the rapid movement of these +small bodies of rebels, but could get nothing out of it, except the +supposition that our cavalry had pushed on up the road after we had +passed Old Church. There might be, and doubtless were, several +attempts made this day to ascertain the position of the rebels.</p> +<p>No crossing of that road now and trying the rebel left! We went +to the left of the field. It was about five o'clock. We reached the +foot of a hill and saw a small creek ahead of us. I now felt that I +must go forward alone.</p> +<p>To make sure that I could find Jones again, I stationed him in +the creek swamp near the corner of the field. We agreed upon a +signal.</p> +<p>I crept forward through the swamp, converging toward the road. I +crossed the stream, and reached a point from which I could see the +road; it ran up a hill; on the hill I could see a group of men. +Here, I was convinced, was the Confederate picket-line, if there +was a line.</p> +<p>A thick-topped tree was growing some thirty yards from the edge +of the road; from its boughs I could see mounted men facing east, +nearer to me than the group above. The sun had nearly set; it shone +on sabres and carbines. I was hoping there was no infantry +picket-line. I came down from the tree, returned rapidly to Jones, +and got ready. I told him to make himself comfortable for the +night, and to wait for me no longer than two o'clock the next day. +The package containing the gray clothing I took with me. I would +not put it on until I should see that nothing else would do.</p> +<p>And now, feeling that it was for the last time, I again went +forward. I had decided to try to penetrate the picket-line if I +should find it to be a very long line; if it proved to be a line +that I could turn, I would go round it, and when on its flank I +would act as opportunity should offer. If the enemy's force were +small, I might see it all from the outside; but if it consisted of +brigades and divisions, I would put on the disguise and throw away +my own uniform.</p> +<p>Twilight had deepened; on the hills in front fires were +beginning to show. I reached the foot of the hill on which I had +seen the rebel picket-post, and moved on slowly. I was unarmed, +carrying nothing but the gray clothes wrapped in the +gum-blanket.</p> +<p>The hill was spotted with clumps of low bushes, but there were +no trees. At every step I paused and listened. I thought I could +hear voices far away. Halfway up the hill I stopped; the voices +were nearer--or louder, possibly.</p> +<p>I now ceased advancing directly up the hill; instead, I moved +off at a right angle toward the left, trying to keep a line +parallel with the supposed picket-line, and listening hard. A +rabbit sprang up from almost under my feet. I was glad that it did +not run up the hill. Voices continued to come to my ears, but from +far away. I supposed that the line was more than three hundred +yards from me, and that vedettes were between us; but for the +vedettes, I should have gone nearer. I knew that I was in no great +danger so long as the pickets would talk. The voices made me sure +that these pickets did not feel themselves in the presence of an +enemy. They evidently knew that they had bodies of cavalry on all +the roads leading to their front. Possibly they were prepared for +attack by any body of men, but they were not prepared against +observation by one man; they were trusting their cavalry for that. +So long, then, as I could hear the voices, I felt comparatively +safe. The pickets could not see me, for I was down the hill from +them--much below their sky line; if one of them should happen to be +in their front for any purpose, he would think of me as I should +think of him; he certainly would not suppose me an enemy; if he +should be alarmed, I could get away.</p> +<p>So I continued moving along in the same direction, until I +struck woods, where the hill ceased in a plateau; here I was on +level ground, and I could see in the distance the light of +camp-fires, between which and me I could not doubt were the +pickets, if not indeed the main line also, of the enemy.</p> +<p>I kept on. The ground changed again, so that I looked down on +the fires. I paused and reflected. This picket-line was long; it +certainly covered more than a regiment or two. Again I wished that +I were on the north side of the road.</p> +<p>The camp-fires now seemed more distant and a little to my right. +I was beginning to flatter myself with the belief that I had +reached the point where the picket-line bent back. I felt +encouraged.</p> +<p>I retired some twenty yards, and then went on more boldly, still +pursuing a course parallel, as I thought, with the picket-line +fronting east. Soon I reached another road.</p> +<p>Should I cross this road? It ran straight, so far as I could +see, into the position of the enemy; it was a wide road, no doubt +one of the main roads leading to Hanover Court-House.</p> +<p>I looked up the road toward the enemy. I could see no +camp-fires.</p> +<p>I thought that I had reached the enemy's flank.</p> +<p>A troop of cavalry rode by, going to their front.</p> +<p>I felt sure that I was right. I looked and found the north, star +through the branches of the trees. I was right. This road ran north +and south. The picket-line doubtless reached the road, or very near +it, and bent back; but how far back? If the enemy depended upon +cavalry for their flank,--and this flank was toward their main army +at Richmond,--my work would be easy.</p> +<p>I crossed the road, and crept along it toward Hanover. More +cavalry rode by. I kept on, doubting more strongly the existence of +any infantry pickets.</p> +<p>An ambulance went by, going north into camp.</p> +<p>I went thirty yards deeper into the woods. I took everything out +of my pockets, stripped off my uniform, and covered it with leaves +as well as I could in the darkness. Then I put on the gray clothes +and twisted the gum-blanket and threw it over my shoulder. I had +resolved to accompany any ambulance or wagon that should come into +the rebel camp.</p> +<p>Taking my station by the side of the road, I lay down and +waited.</p> +<p>Again cavalry rode by, this squad also going to the front. I was +now convinced that there was no picket-line here; this flank was +protected by cavalry. Now I was glad that I had not tried the left +flank of the rebel line.</p> +<p>I heard trains rolling, and they seemed not very far from me. I +could hear the engines puffing.</p> +<p>From down the road toward Richmond came the crack of a whip. I +saw a team coming--four or six mules, I could not yet tell in the +night.</p> +<p>A heavy wagon came lumbering along. I was about to step out and +get behind it, when I saw another; it passed, and still another +came. As the last one went by I rose and followed it, keeping bent +under the feed-box which, was slung behind it.</p> +<p>I marched thus into the rebel camp at Hanover Court-House.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVII"></a>XVII</h2> +<h3>THE LINES OF HANOVER</h3> +<center>"Our scouts have found the adventure very +easy."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>Soon the wagons turned sharply to the left, following, I +thought, a new road cut for a purpose; now camp-fires could be seen +again, and near by.</p> +<p>The cry of a sentinel was heard in front, and the wagons halted. +I supposed that we were now to pass the camp guard, which, for mere +form's sake, had challenged the Confederate teamsters; I crept +entirely under the body of the wagon.</p> +<p>We moved on; I saw no sentinel; doubtless he had turned his back +and was walking toward the other end of his beat.</p> +<p>The wagon, on its new road, was now passing to the right of an +encampment; long rows of tents, with streets between, showed +clearly upon a hill at the left. In the streets there were many +groups of men; some of them were talking noisily; some were +singing. It was easy to see that these men were in good spirits; +they surely had not had a hard march that day. For my part, I was +beginning to feel very tired; still, I knew that excitement would +keep me going for this night, and for the next day, if need be.</p> +<p>The wagon passed beyond the tents; then, judging that it was to +go on until it should be far in the rear, I stepped aside and was +alone again, and with the Confederate forces between Jones and +me.</p> +<p>I sat on the ground, and tried to think. It seemed to me that +the worst was over. I was safer here than I had been an hour ago, +while following up the picket-line--safer, perhaps, than I had been +at any time that day. I was a Confederate surrounded by an army who +wore the Southern uniform. Nothing less than stupidity on my part +could lose me. I must still act cautiously--yet without the +appearance of caution; that was a more difficult matter.</p> +<p>What I had to do now seemed very simple; it was merely the work +of walking about and estimating the number of the rebels. To get +out of these lines would not be any more difficult for me than for +any other rebel.</p> +<p>But would not a man walking hither and thither in the night be +accosted by some one?</p> +<p>Well, what of that? As soon as he sees me near, he will be +satisfied.</p> +<p>But suppose some man asks you what regiment you belong to--what +can you say?</p> +<p>Let me think. The troops here may be all Virginians, or all +Georgians, and I am a South Carolinian.</p> +<p>The sweat rolled down my face--unwholesome sweat. I had allowed +my imagination to carry me too far; I had really put myself in the +place of a Carolinian for the moment; the becoming a Union soldier +again was sudden, violent. I must guard against such +transitions.</p> +<p>Seeing at last that hiding was not acting cautiously and without +the appearance of caution, I rose and started for the camp-fires, +by a great effort of will dominating my discomposure, and +determining to play the Confederate soldier amongst his fellows. I +would go to the men; would talk to them when necessary; would count +their tents and their stacks of arms if possible; would learn, as +soon as I could, the name of some regiment, so that if I were +questioned I could answer.</p> +<p>But suppose you are asked your regiment, and give an appropriate +answer, and then are asked for your captain's name--what can you +say?</p> +<p>I beat off the fearful suggestion. Strong suspicion alone could +prompt such, an inquiry. There was no more reason for these men to +suspect my being a Union soldier than there was for me to suspect +that one of these men was a Union soldier.</p> +<p>I was approaching the encampment from the rear. Two men overtook +me, each bending under a load of many canteens. They passed me +without speaking. I followed them--lengthening my step to keep near +them--and went with them to their company. I stood by in the light +of the fires while they distributed the canteens, or, rather, while +they put the canteens on the ground, and their respective owners +came and got them. The men did not speak to me.</p> +<p>I had hoped to find the Confederates in line of battle; they +certainly ought to have been in line, and in every respect ready +for action, but, instead, they were here in tents and without any +preparation against surprise, so far as I could see, except the +cavalry pickets thrown out on the roads. If they had been in line, +it would have been easy for me to estimate the number of bayonets +in the line of stacked arms; I was greatly disappointed. The tents +seemed to me too few for the numbers of men who were at the +camp-fires. I saw forms already stretched out on their blankets in +the open air. Doubtless many men, in this mild weather, preferred +to sleep outside of the crowded tents.</p> +<p>Hoping that something would be said to give me what I wanted to +know, I sat down.</p> +<p>One of the men asked me for a chew of tobacco.</p> +<p>"Don't chaw," said I, mentally vowing that henceforth. I should +carry some tobacco.</p> +<p>"Why don't you buy your own tobacco?" asked a voice.</p> +<p>The petitioner refused to reply.</p> +<p>A large man stood up; he took from his pocket a knife and a +square of tobacco; he gravely approached the first speaker, cut off +a very small portion, and handed it to him. The men looked on in +silence at this act, which, seemingly, was nothing new to them. One +of them winked at me. I inferred that the large man intended a +rebuke to his comrade for begging from a stranger. The large man +went back and sat down.</p> +<p>"Say, Doc, how long are we goin' to be here?"</p> +<p>"I wish I could tell you," said the large man.</p> +<p>There were seven men in the group around the fire; the eyes of +all were upon the large man called Doc. He seemed a man of +character and influence, though but a private. He turned to me.</p> +<p>"You are tired," he said.</p> +<p>I merely nodded assent. His remark surprised and disconcerted +me, so that I could not find my voice. In a moment my courage had +returned. The look of the man was the opposite of suspicious--it +was sympathetic. He was not baldly curious. His attitude toward me +might shield me from the curiosity of the others, if, indeed, they +were feeling interest of any sort in me. I had been fearing that +some one would ask me my regiment.</p> +<p>"I want to go home to my mammy!" screamed a voice at the next +fire.</p> +<p>Nobody gave this yell the least notice. I supposed it a common +saying with homesick soldiers.</p> +<p>I wondered what Doc and the other men were thinking of me. +Perhaps I was thought a friend of one of the men who had brought +the water; perhaps nobody thought anything, or cared anything, +about me. Although I felt helpless, I would remain.</p> +<p>A torn envelope was lying on the ground, within a few inches of +my hand. The addressed side was next the ground. My fears fled; +accident had helped me--had given me a plan.</p> +<p>I turned the letter over. The address was:--</p> +<blockquote> PRIVATE D.W. ROBERTS,<br> + <i>Co. G, 7th N.C. +Reg't,<br> + Branch's +Brigade,<br> + Gordonsville, +Va.</i></blockquote> +<p>I rose. "I must be going," said I, and walked off down the +street. The act, under the circumstances, did not seem to me +entirely natural, but it was the best I could do; these men, I +hoped, would merely think me an oddity.</p> +<p>In the next street I stopped at the brightest fire that I +saw.</p> +<p>"This is not the Seventh, is it?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No," said one; "the Seventh is over there," pointing.</p> +<p>"What regiment is this?"</p> +<p>"Our'n," said he.</p> +<p>"Oh, don't be giving me any of your tomfoolery," said I.</p> +<p>"This is the Thirty-third," said another.</p> +<p>I went back toward the Seventh, passed beyond it, and approached +another group. A man of this group rose and sauntered away toward +the left. I followed him. I put my hand on his shoulder and said, +"Hello, Jim! where are you going?"</p> +<p>He turned and said, "Hello yourself, if you want anybody to +hello; but my name's not Jim."</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon," said I; "afraid I'm in the wrong pew; what +regiment is this?"</p> +<p>"The Twenty-eighth," said he, and went on without another +word.</p> +<p>The nature of the replies given me by my friends of the +Thirty-third and Twenty-eighth made me feel nearly certain that all +of Branch's regiments were from one State. I was supposed to belong +to the brigade; it was needless to tell me the name of the State +from which my regiment--from which all the regiments--came. Had the +brigade been a mixed one, the men would have said, "Thirty-third +North Carolina;" "Twenty-eighth North Carolina"; that they did not +trouble themselves with giving the name of their State was strong +reason for believing that all the regiments, as I knew the Seventh +to be, were from North Carolina.</p> +<p>I continued my walk, picking up as I went several envelopes, +which I thrust into my pocket. It must now have been about ten +o'clock. The men had become silent; but few were sitting at the +fires. I believed I had sufficient information as to the +composition of the brigade, but I had learned little as to its +strength. I knew that there were five streets in the encampment, +and therefore five regiments in the brigade. But how many men were +in the brigade?</p> +<p>Behind the rear regiment was a small cluster of wall-tents, +which I took for brigade headquarters. At the head of every street +was a wall-tent, which I supposed was the colonel's. At the left of +the encampment of tents, and separated from the encampment by a +space of a hundred yards, perhaps, was a line of brighter fires +than now showed in the streets. The dying out of the fires in the +streets was what called my attention, by contrast, to these +brighter fires. I walked toward the bright fires; to my surprise I +found troops in bivouac. I went boldly up to the nearest fire, and +found two men cooking. I asked for a drink of water.</p> +<p>"Sorry, neighbour, but we hain't got nary nother drop," said +one.</p> +<p>"An' we don't see no chance to git any," said the other.</p> +<p>"Don't you know where the spring is?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No; do you?"</p> +<p>"I don't know exactly," said I, "but I know the direction; it's +down that way," pointing; "I've seen men coming from that way with +canteens. You are mighty late getting supper."</p> +<p>"Jest ben relieved; we tuck the places of some men this mornin', +an' they jest now got back an' let us loose."</p> +<p>"What duty were you on?"</p> +<p>"On guyard by that battery way over yander; 'twa'n't our time, +but we went. Say, neighbour, wish't you'd show me the way to that +water o' yourn. Dam'f I knowed the' was any water'n less'n a +mile."</p> +<p>"I don't want to go 'way back there," said I; "but I'll tell you +how to find it."</p> +<p>"Well, tell me then, an' tell me quick. I reckin if I can git +started right, I'll find lots more a-goin'."</p> +<p>"Let me see," said I, studying; "you go over yonder, past +General Branch's headquarters, and go down a hill through, the old +field, and--let me see; what regiment is this?"</p> +<p>"This'n's the bloody Forty-fifth Georgy," said he; "we ain't no +tar-heels; it's a tar-heel brigade exceptin' of us, but we ain't no +tar-heels--no insult intended to you, neighbour."</p> +<p>"Oh, I don't mind being called a tar-heel," said I; "in fact, I +rather like it."</p> +<p>"Well, wher's your water?"</p> +<p>"You know where the old field is?"</p> +<p>"No, I don't; we've jest got here last night. I don't know +anything."</p> +<p>"You know headquarters?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, just go on down the hill, and you'll find a path in the +old field"</p> +<p>The man picked up two canteens, and went off. I remained with +his messmate.</p> +<p>"What battery was that you were talking about? I haven't seen a +battery with the brigade in a week."</p> +<p>"Wher' have you ben that you hain't seed it?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Off on duty," said I.</p> +<p>"No wonder you hain't seed it, then; an' you mought ha' stayed +with your comp'ny an' not ha' seed it <i>then</i>; you hain't seed +it becaze it ain't for to be saw. They're put it away back +yander."</p> +<p>"How many guns?"</p> +<p>"Some says six an' some says four; I didn't see 'em, +myself."</p> +<p>"I don't understand why you didn't see the guns, if you were +guarding the battery; and I don't see why the battery couldn't do +its own guard duty."</p> +<p>"We wa'n't a-guyardin' no battery; we was a-guyardin' a house +down <i>by</i> the battery."</p> +<p>"Oh, I see; protecting some citizen's property."</p> +<p>"That's so; pertectin' property an' gittin' hongry."</p> +<p>"That's Captain Brown's battery, is it not?"</p> +<p>"No, sirree! Hit's Latham's battery, though some does call it +Branch's battery; but I don't see why. Jest as well call Hardeman's +regiment Branch's, too."</p> +<p>"Which regiment is Hardeman's?"</p> +<p>"Our'n; it's with Branch's brigade now, but it ain't Branch's +regiment, by a long shot."</p> +<p>"I hear that more troops are expected here," said I, at a +venture.</p> +<p>"Yes, and I know they're a-comin'; some of 'em is at the +Junction now--comin' from Fredericksburg. I heerd Cap'n Simmons say +so this mornin'."</p> +<p>"We'll have a big crowd then," said I.</p> +<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p> +<p>"'Eventh," said I, without remorse cancelling the difference +between the Eleventh Massachusetts and the Seventh North +Carolina.</p> +<p>The man moved about the fire, attending to his cooking. The talk +almost ceased. I pulled an envelope from my pocket and began +tearing it into little bits, which I threw into the fire one by +one, pretending mere abstraction.</p> +<p>The envelope had borne the address:--</p> +<blockquote> CAPTAIN GEORGE B. +JOHNSTON,<br> + <i>Co. G, 28th N.C. +Reg't,<br> + Branch's Brigade,<br> + Hanover C.H., +Va</i>.</blockquote> +<p>I took out another envelope. It was addressed to Lieut. E.G. +Morrow, of the same company--Company G of the Twenty-eighth. A +third bore the address:--</p> +<blockquote>CAPTAIN S.N. STOWE, <i>Co. B, 7th N.C. Reg't,</i><br> +<i>Gordonsville, Va.</i></blockquote> +<p>More envelopes went into the fire. They bore the names of +privates, corporals, and sergeants; some were of the Eighteenth, +others of the Thirty-seventh North Carolina Volunteers. One +envelope had no address. Another gave me the name of Col. James H. +Lane, but no regiment.</p> +<p>"Time your friend was getting back," said I.</p> +<p>"Seems to me so, too," said he; "but I reckin he found a crowd +ahead of him."</p> +<p>"How many men in your regiment?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Dunno; there was more'n a thousand at first; not more'n seven +or eight hundred, I reckin; how many in your'n?"</p> +<p>"About the same," I replied; "how many in your company?"</p> +<p>"Eighty-two," he said.</p> +<p>The other man returned from the spring.</p> +<p>"Know what I heerd?" he asked.</p> +<p>"No; what was it?" inquired his companion.</p> +<p>"I heard down thar at the branch that the Twelf' No'th Ca'lina +was here summers."</p> +<p>"Well, maybe it is."</p> +<p>"I got it mighty straight."</p> +<p>"How did you hear it?" I asked.</p> +<p>"A man told me that one of Branch's couriers told him so; he had +jest come from 'em; said they is camped not more'n two mile from +here"</p> +<p>"Only the Twelfth? No other regiment?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Didn't hear of no other," he replied,</p> +<p>"I wonder what we are here for?" I ventured to say.</p> +<p>"Plain case," said he; "guyard the railroad."</p> +<p>My knowledge of the situation had vastly increased. Here was +Branch's command, consisting of my North Carolina regiments and one +from Georgia, and Latham's battery; another regiment was supposed +to be near by. What more need I know? I must learn the strength of +the force; I must get corroboration. The man with whom I had talked +might be wrong on some point. I considered my friend's opinion +correct concerning Branch's purpose. The Confederate force was put +here to protect the railroad. From the envelopes I had learned that +Branch's brigade had recently been at Gordonsville; it was clear +that it had left Gordonsville in order to place itself between +Anderson's force at Fredericksburg and Johnston's army at Richmond, +and thus preserve communications. Branch had been 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.</p> +<p>The men had eaten their supper. I left them, giving but slight +formality to my manner of departure. I had made up my mind to seek +the path to the spring. From such a body, thirsty men would be +going for water all night long, especially as there seemed little +of it near by. By getting near the spring I should also be able, +perhaps, to determine the position of the wagons; I had decided to +attempt going out of these lines in the manner of my entering them, +if I could but find a wagon going before daylight.</p> +<p>It took some little time to find the spring, which was not a +spring after all, but merely a pool in a small brook. I hid myself +by the side of the path and waited; soon I heard the rattling of +empty canteens and the footsteps of a man; I started to meet +him.</p> +<p>"Say, Mister, do you know whar that spring is?"</p> +<p>"I know where the water is," said I; "it's a branch."</p> +<p>"Gosh! Branch's brigade ort to have a branch."</p> +<p>"You must have come in a hurry," said I; "you are blowing."</p> +<p>"Blowin'? Yes; blowed if I didn't come in a hurry, and blowed if +I did; you've hit it!"</p> +<p>"What regiment do you belong to?"</p> +<p>"Thirty-seventh."</p> +<p>"Is that Colonel Lane's?"</p> +<p>"No; Lane's is the Twenty-eight. Colonel Lee is our +colonel."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes; I got Lee and Lane mixed."</p> +<p>"What regiment is your'n?"</p> +<p>"'Eventh,"</p> +<p>"That's Campbell's," said he.</p> +<p>"You know the brigade mighty well. Here's your water," said I, +sitting down while the man should fill his canteens.</p> +<p>"Know 'em all except these new ones," said he.</p> +<p>"That's the Forty-fifth Georgia," said I; "but I hear that more +are coming. I heard that the Twelfth North Carolina is near by, and +is under Branch."</p> +<p>"Yes; an' it's a fact," said he.</p> +<p>"Your regiment is bigger than ours, I believe," said I.</p> +<p>"Well, I dunno about that; how many men in your'n?"</p> +<p>"About seven or eight hundred, I reckon."</p> +<p>"Not much difference, then; but, I tell you what, that old +Twenty-eighth is a whopper--a thousand men."</p> +<p>I said nothing; I could hear the gurgling of the water as it ran +down the neck of the canteen. The man chuckled, "Branch's brigade +ort to have a branch; blowed if it ortn't." He was pleased with +himself for discovering something like a pun or two.</p> +<p>For two reasons it was policy for me to go back, or start back, +with this man; first, I wanted him to talk more; second, if I +should linger at the water, he might think my conduct strange.</p> +<p>Going up the hill, he asked me to take the lead. I did so, +venturing the remark that these two new regiments made Branch's +brigade a very big one.</p> +<p>"Yes," said he; "but I reckon they won't stay with us +forever."</p> +<p>"Wonder where they came from," said I.</p> +<p>"Too hard for <i>me</i>," he replied; "especially the Twelfth; +the Forty-fifth was at Goldsborough, but not in our brigade."</p> +<p>We reached the street of the Seventh. I stepped aside. "I stop +here," said I.</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "I'm much obleeged to you for showin' me that +branch--that branch that belongs to Branch's brigade," and he went +his way.</p> +<p>And now I tried to take some rest. I thought it more prudent to +stay at one of the camp-fires, fearing that if I concealed myself I +should be stumbled upon and suspected, so I went up to one of the +fires of the Twenty-eighth, wrapped my gum-blanket around me and +lay down. But I found it impossible to sleep. The newness of the +experience and the danger of the situation drove sleep as far from +me as the east is from the west. I believe that in romances it is +the proper thing to say that a man in trying situations sleeps the +sleep of the infant; but this is not romance. I could not +sleep.</p> +<p>Some time before day a man lying near my fire stretched himself +and sat up. I watched him from the corner of my eye. I wanted no +conversation with him; I was afraid he might question me too +closely, and that my replies would not prove satisfactory to him. I +kept quiet; I knew enough--too much to risk losing.</p> +<p>Suddenly he looked toward me. I was afraid that he had become +aware of a foreign element thrown into his environment. My fears +were confirmed. He opened his mouth and said, +"Who--in--the--hell--that--is." The utterance was an assertion +rather than an inquiry. I made no response. He continued to look at +me--shook his head--nodded it--then fell back and went to +sleep.</p> +<p>To make sure that he was fast, I waited awhile; then I rose and +made my way back to a spot near the wagon train, far in the rear. +It must have been after three o'clock. The teamsters had finished +feeding their mules. Soon two of them began to hitch up their +teams; then, with much shouting and rattling of harness, they moved +off. I stole along beside the second wagon for some distance, and +had almost decided to climb into it from behind when I thought that +possibly some one was in it. There seemed little danger in going +out behind the wagons, especially as there was no light of day as +yet, although I expected that the cavalry pickets on the road would +be looking straight at me, if I should pass them, and although, +too, I fully understood that these wagons would be escorted by +cavalry when on any dangerous part of the road to Richmond. But my +plan was to abandon the wagon before we should see any cavalry.</p> +<p>When my wagon had reached the thickest of the woods, and about +the spot, as nearly as I could judge, where I had joined the other +wagons on the preceding night, I quietly slipped into the bushes on +the left of the road.</p> +<p>The light was sufficient for me to distinguish large objects at +twenty paces, but the woods were dense, and I knew that caution +must be more than ever my guide; now that I had information of +great value, it would not do to risk capture.</p> +<p>For some time I crept through the woods on my hands and knees, +intently listening for the least sound which might convince me +whether I was on the right track. A feverish fear possessed me that +I was yet in rear of the Confederate pickets. The east was now +clearly defined, so that my course was easy to choose--a +northeasterly course, which I knew was very nearly the exact +direction to the spot where I had left Jones.</p> +<p>At every yard of progress my fear subsided in proportion; every +yard was increasing my distance from Branch's encampment, and +rendering probability greater in my favour; I surely must be +already in front of any possible picket-line.</p> +<p>The light increased, and the woods became less dense After going +a hundred yards, I ceased to crawl. From behind one large tree I +examined the ground ahead, and darted quickly to another. Soon I +saw before me a fallen tree, and wondered if it might not conceal +some vedette. Yet, if it did, the sentinel should be on my side of +the tree. I stood for a few moments, intently searching it with my +eyes. It was not more than fifteen yards from me, and directly in +my course. At last, seeing nothing, I sprang quickly and was just +about to lie down behind it, when a man rose from its other side. I +did not lie down. He looked at me; I looked at him. He was unarmed. +We were about eight feet apart. He began to recoil. There was light +sufficient to enable me to tell from his dress that he was a rebel. +Of course he would think me a Confederate. I stepped over the +log.</p> +<p>"What are you doing here, sir?" I demanded, in a stern voice; +"why are you not with your regiment?"</p> +<p>He said nothing to this. He was abashed. His eyes sought the +ground.</p> +<p>"Why don't you answer me, sir?" I asked.</p> +<p>He replied timidly, "I am not doing any harm."</p> +<p>"What do you mean by being here at all?"</p> +<p>"I got lost in the woods last night," he said, "and went to +sleep here, waiting for day."</p> +<p>"Then get back to your company at once," said I; "what is your +regiment?"</p> +<p>"The Seventh," he replied.</p> +<p>"And your brigade?"</p> +<p>He looked up wonderingly at this, and I feared that I had made +an unnecessary mistake through over-carefulness in trying to secure +another corroboration of what I already knew well enough. I thought +I could perceive his idea, and I added in an instant: "Don't you +know that troops have come up in the night? What brigade is +yours?"</p> +<p>"Branch's," he said.</p> +<p>"Then you will find your camp just in this direction," said I, +pointing to the rear and left. He slunk away, seemingly well +pleased to be quit at so cheap a cost.</p> +<p>Fearing that our voices had been heard by the pickets, I plunged +through the bushes directly toward the east, and ran for a minute +without pausing. Again the cold sweat was dropping from my face; +again I had felt the mysterious mental agony attendant upon a too +violent transition of personality. Perhaps it was this peculiar +condition which pressed me to prolonged and unguarded energy. I +went through thicket and brier patch, over logs and gullies, and +when I paused I knew not where I was.</p> +<p>After some reflection I judged that I had pursued an easterly +direction so far that Jones was now not to the northeast, but more +to the north; I changed my course then, bending toward the north, +and before sunrise reached the creek which, on the preceding night, +I had crossed after leaving Jones. I did not know whether he was +above me or below, so I crossed the stream at the place where I +struck it, and went straight away from it through the swamp.</p> +<p>After going a long distance I began to fear that I was missing +my course, and I did not know which way to turn. I whistled; there +was no response.</p> +<p>No opening could be seen in any direction through the swamp. My +present course had led me wrong; it would not do at all to go on; I +should get farther and farther away from Jones. If I should assume +any direction as the right one, I should be likely to have guessed +wrong. I spent an hour working my way laboriously through the +swamp, making wide and wider sweeps to reach some opening or some +tree on higher ground. At last I saw open ground on my left. I went +rapidly to it, and found a field, with a fence separating it from +the woods,--the fence running east and west,--and saw, several +hundred yards toward the west, the corner of the field at which I +had stationed Jones.</p> +<p>At once I began to go rapidly down the hill toward the place. As +I came near, I saw both horses prick their ears. Jones was sitting +on the ground, with his gun in his lap, alert toward the west; I +was in his rear. Suddenly he, too, saw the movement of the horses; +he sprang quickly to a tree, from behind which I could now see the +muzzle of his gun ten paces off. I whistled. The gun dropped, and +Jones advanced, frightened.</p> +<p>"I came in an ace of it," he said, in a loud whisper; "why +didn't you signal sooner?"</p> +<p>"To tell you the truth, I did not think of it in time, Jones; I +am glad to see you so watchful."</p> +<p>"I should never have recognized you in that plight," said he; +"what have you done with your other clothes?"</p> +<p>"Had to throw them away."</p> +<p>"Well! I certainly had no notion of seeing you come back as you +are--and from that direction."</p> +<p>This was the first time I had seen myself as a Confederate +standing with a Union soldier. In the night, mixed with the rebels, +I had felt no visible contrast with them. Since I had left the +wagon I had had no time for thought of personal appearance. Now I +looked at myself. My hands were scratched with briers; my hat was +torn; a great hole was over one knee, which I had used most in +crawling. I was muddy to my knees, having been more rapid than +cautious in crossing the creek. For more than twenty-four hours my +mind had been on too great a strain to think of the body. By the +side of me, Jones looked like a glittering general questioning an +uncouth rebel prisoner. He smiled, but I did not.</p> +<p>"Now, let us mount and ride," said I; "we can eat as we go. The +horses have had an all night's rest, and I can notify you that I +need one, but it won't do to stay here. I know all that we need to +know."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>We decided that we should return to Old Church by the route +which we had followed in coming. As we rode, I described to Jones +the position and force of the enemy, so that, if I should be taken +and he left, he could report to General Morell. We avoided the +fields and roads, and stuck to the woods, keeping a sharp lookout +ahead, but going rapidly. At the first water which we saw I took +time to give my head a good souse.</p> +<p>Near the middle of the forenoon we came out upon the hills above +Crump's Creek, and were about to descend when we heard a noise at +our left, seemingly the galloping of horses. We dismounted, and I +crept toward the road until I could see part of it winding over the +hill. About twenty-five or thirty rebel cavalry--to be exact, they +numbered just twenty-seven, as I counted--were on the road, going +at a gallop up the hill, and apparently excited--running from +danger, I thought. They disappeared over the hill. I thought it +quite likely that some of our cavalry were advancing on the road, +and that it would be well for me to wait where I was; if I should +go back and call Jones to come, our men might pass while I was +gone.</p> +<p>In a short time I saw in the road, going westward at a slow +walk, another body of cavalry. These men, to my astonishment, were +armed with lances. My surprise gave way to pleasure, for I +remembered much talk in the army concerning a Pennsylvania regiment +of lancers.</p> +<p>As I could see, also, that the men were in Federal uniform, I +boldly left my place of concealment and walked out into the road. +The cavalry halted. The captain, or officer in command, whom I +shall here call Captain Lewis, although that was not his name, rode +out a little to the front of his men, and said, "So you have given +it up?"</p> +<p>"No, sir," said I; "to the contrary, I have made a success of +it."</p> +<p>"Well, we shall see about that," he exclaimed; "here! get up +behind one of my men. We want you."</p> +<p>For me to go with the cavalry and show them the plain road +before their eyes, was ridiculous. As I hesitated, the captain +cried out, "Here, Sergeant, take two men and carry this man to the +rear!"</p> +<p>"Captain, please don't be so fast," said I; "one of my comrades +is near by with our horses--" I was going to say more, but he +interrupted me, crying, "We intend to pay our respects to all your +comrades. No more from you, sir!"</p> +<p>As I showed no willingness to mount behind a man, the sergeant +and detail marched me down the road. I endeavoured to talk to the +sergeant, but he refused to hear me.</p> +<p>This affair had puzzled me, and it continued to puzzle me for a +short while, but I soon saw what it meant, and saw why I had not +understood from the first. My mind had been so fixed upon my direct +duty that I had not once thought of my pretended character. For his +part, the captain had supposed that I was a Confederate deserter +coming into the Union lines. This was now simple enough, but why, +under such circumstances, he had not questioned me in regard to +what was in his front, I could not at all understand. I tried again +to speak, but was commanded to be silent.</p> +<p>This was a ludicrous experience, though unpleasant. My only +serious consideration was in regard to Jones. I feared that he +would wait for me indefinitely, and would be captured. Although +such a result could bring no blame to me, yet I was very anxious +about him. Concerning myself, I knew that I could suffer restraint +but a very short time; just so soon as I could get speech with any +officer willing to listen, I should be set right.</p> +<p>The sergeant and his two men marched me back nearly to Hawes's +shop, some two miles beyond Crump's Creek, where I was brought +before Colonel Tyler, who was in command of two or three infantry +regiments which had advanced from Old Church on that morning.</p> +<p>Colonel Tyler was the centre of a group of officers; the +regiments were under arms. The sergeant in charge of me reported +that I was a Confederate deserter, whom the Pennsylvania cavalry +had found in the woods beyond Crump's Creek. Colonel Tyler nodded, +and began to question me.</p> +<p>"When did you leave your regiment?"</p> +<p>"On the 22d, Colonel," I replied.</p> +<p>"That is a long time to lie out in the woods," said he; "now be +sure that your memory is right. What day of the month is this?"</p> +<p>"The 24th, I think, sir."</p> +<p>"And it has taken you two days to come a few miles?"</p> +<p>"From what place, Colonel?"</p> +<p>"Why, from Hanover."</p> +<p>"No, sir; it has taken me but a few hours."</p> +<p>"What is your regiment?"</p> +<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, Colonel."</p> +<p>The colonel smiled. Then he looked angry. Then he composed his +countenance.</p> +<p>"Have you any idea what is the matter with this man, +Sergeant?"</p> +<p>The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know anything about it, +Colonel. I only know that we took the man as I have said. He tried +to talk to Captain Lewis, but the captain thought it best to send +him back at once."</p> +<p>"You insist on belonging to the--what regiment did you say?"</p> +<p>"The Eleventh Massachusetts, sir," said I, unable to restrain a +smile.</p> +<p>"Then what are you doing here?"</p> +<p>"I was brought here much against my will, Colonel."</p> +<p>"But what were you doing when you were captured?"</p> +<p>"I have not been captured, Colonel; when I came to meet the +lancers, I was returning from a scout."</p> +<p>"What brigade do you belong to?"</p> +<p>"General Grover's."</p> +<p>"What division?"</p> +<p>"General Hooker's."</p> +<p>"Where is your regiment now?"</p> +<p>"Near Bottom's Bridge, Colonel," I said; then added, "it was +there on the 21st; where it is now I cannot say."</p> +<p>The colonel saw that I was a very remarkable Confederate +deserter; he was beginning to believe my story; his tone +altered.</p> +<p>"But why are you in Confederate uniform?"</p> +<p>"Colonel," said I, "I have been sent out by order, and I was +just returning when our cavalry met me. I tried to explain, but +they would not listen to me. The officer threatened me and would +not let me speak."</p> +<p>The colonel looked puzzled. "Have you anything to prove that you +are a Union soldier?"</p> +<p>"No, sir," said I, "not a thing. It would be dangerous for me to +carry anything of that kind, sir. All I ask is to be sent to +General Morell."</p> +<p>"Where is General Morell?"</p> +<p>"On the reserve line near New Bridge."</p> +<p>"Why send you to General Morell?"</p> +<p>"Because I must make my report to him."</p> +<p>"Did he send you out?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"How is it that you are attached to General Grover and also to +General Morell?"</p> +<p>"Well, Colonel, that is something I do not like to talk about, +but it is perfectly straight. If you will send me under guard to +General Morell, the whole matter will be cleared up to your +satisfaction. I beg you to do so at once. I know that General +Morell will consider my report important, and will be disappointed +if it should be delayed, sir."</p> +<p>"Not yet," said he; "but I will send him a description of your +person. I shall want you here in case General Morell does not claim +you and justify your claims."</p> +<p>"But if General Morell does not justify me, I am a rebel, and +what would you do with me?"</p> +<p>"If you are a rebel, you are a deserter or a spy, and you say +you are not a deserter; if you are either, General Morell does not +need you."</p> +<p>"Colonel," said I, "would not a rebel spy be an idiot to come +voluntarily into the Union lines dressed as I am dressed?"</p> +<p>"One cannot be too careful," said he. "You claim to be a Union +man, but you cannot prove it."</p> +<p>"Then, Colonel, since you refuse to send me back to General +Morell, I beg that you at once send back for my companion."</p> +<p>"What companion?"</p> +<p>"His name is Jones. He was chosen by General Morell to accompany +me. He is near the spot where I met the lancers. He has both of our +horses, and I fear he will wait too long for me, and be +captured."</p> +<p>"By the lancers?"</p> +<p>"No, sir, by the rebels. He has on his own Federal uniform."</p> +<p>"But why did you not tell me this before?"</p> +<p>"Because I wanted you first to consent to send me to General +Morell; you refuse, and I now tell you about Jones. He can justify +me to you; but time is lost in getting to General Morell, sir."</p> +<p>Colonel Tyler wrote something and handed it to the sergeant, who +at once went off, accompanied by his two men.</p> +<p>"What force of the enemy is in our front?" asked the +colonel.</p> +<p>"My report is to be made to General Morell, Colonel."</p> +<p>"But if I order you to report to me?"</p> +<p>"Do you recognize me as a Union soldier, Colonel?"</p> +<p>"What has that got to do with it?"</p> +<p>"You would hardly have the right to command a rebel spy to +betray his cause," said I.</p> +<p>"But you may be a rebel deserter," said he, smiling.</p> +<p>"If I were a rebel deserter, why should I not claim to be one, +after having reached safety?"</p> +<p>"But you may have intended to go home, or you may have been +lost, and if so you are properly a prisoner of war."</p> +<p>"How should a lost rebel know what I know about the composition +of the Union army?"</p> +<p>"I know your case seems pretty strong; but why not give me the +benefit of your knowledge? Some of my men are now almost in the +presence of the enemy."</p> +<p>"General Morell advised me to report only to him, unless our +advanced troops should be in any danger."</p> +<p>"Then I tell you that we are in danger. We contemplate attacking +a small force, but we don't want to run our heads into a hornet's +nest."</p> +<p>"Well, Colonel, since you put it so, I will answer you."</p> +<p>"What force is in our front?"</p> +<p>"There are six or seven regiments of infantry and a battery. +There are cavalry, also; several hundred, I presume."</p> +<p>"And where are they?"</p> +<p>"The cavalry?"</p> +<p>"The whole force of which you speak."</p> +<p>"They were at Hanover Court-House all last night, and until day +this morning, I cannot say that they have not moved since."</p> +<p>"Do you know who commands them?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Who is it?"</p> +<p>"General Branch."</p> +<p>"Did you see him?"</p> +<p>"No, sir."</p> +<p>"How then do you know that he is in command?"</p> +<p>"I see that I misunderstood your question, Colonel. I do not +know that General Branch is present with his brigade, but I do know +that the troops at Hanover compose Branch's brigade."</p> +<p>"How did you learn it? A man told you?"</p> +<p>"Three different men, of different regiments, told me."</p> +<p>"Well, that ought to be accepted," said he.</p> +<p>I was allowed to remain at my ease near the circle of officers. +It was easy to see that Colonel Tyler was almost convinced that I +was telling the truth.</p> +<p>In about an hour the sergeant returned without the two men, and +accompanied by Jones, who was leading my horse, and who at once +handed the colonel a paper. I was immediately released, and in +little more than two hours reached the camp of General Morell, and +made my report.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>General Morell expressed gratification at my quick return with +valuable results. He told me that General Hooker's command had not +moved, and that he would gladly send a statement of my work to +General Grover, and would say that I would be found with Dr. Khayme +until actually ordered back to the left. He then told me to go back +to my quarters and rest; that I must get all the rest I could, and +as quickly as possible.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Although the day was quite warm, I put my gum-blanket over me, +to shield my gray clothes from the gaze of the curious. I was soon +at Dr. Khayme's tent. Without thinking, I entered at once, throwing +off the hot blanket. Lydia sprang up from a camp-stool, and raised +her hands; in an instant she sat again, trembling. She was very +white.</p> +<p>"I did not know you," she said; "yet I ought to have known you: +Father prepared me; but we did not expect you before to-morrow, at +the earliest." She was still all a-tremble.</p> +<p>"I am sorry that I startled you so; but I was so eager to hide +from all eyes that I did not think of anything else. Where is the +Doctor?"</p> +<p>"He had a case to attend to somewhere--I don't know where it is; +he said he should be back to supper."</p> +<p>Lydia was getting ready to leave the tent. "I suppose you have +had hard work," said she, "and I shall leave you, yet I so wish to +know what success you have had."</p> +<p>"Then stay, and I will tell you about it," said I.</p> +<p>"Only tell me whether you succeeded," she said.</p> +<p>"Yes, I succeeded. I went into the rebel camp and remained all +night with a brigade of them. I know all that I was sent to +learn."</p> +<p>"Oh, Father will be so glad!" she said; "now I will let you rest +till he comes, although I should like to hear all about it."</p> +<p>"But you will not hinder me by remaining," I exclaimed; "to be +plain with you, I had to throw away my uniform, and you see me with +all the clothes I've got."</p> +<p>She laughed; then, hanging her head a little, she said, "You +need rest, though, and I'll see if I cannot help you while you get +some sleep."</p> +<p>When she had gone I lay down and closed my eyes, but sleep would +not come. After a time I heard voices, and then I saw a black hand +open the tent door and lay a package on the ground. I got up, and +saw my name on the package, which proved to contain a new uniform. +I dressed and went out. The Doctor's negro servant was cooking +supper. I asked him who gave him the package he had put into the +tent. He said, "Miss Liddy she done sont me wid a note to de ginnle +en' de ginnle he gimme anudda' note en' dat man he gimme de +bunnle."</p> +<p>The Doctor came while the table was being spread. I gave a +detailed account of my work, his little eyes twinkling with +interest as I talked, and Lydia saying not a word.</p> +<p>When I had ended, I said, "And I have to thank Miss Lydia for +her interest in a ragged rebel; she had the forethought, while I +was trying to sleep, to make a requisition in my behalf; see my new +uniform, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"I'll give her a kiss for showing her good sense," said her +father.</p> +<p>Lydia smiled. "You looked so forlorn--or so tattered and +torn--that I pitied you; I wrote a note to General Morell, not +knowing what else to do."</p> +<p>"Did he reply?" I asked, thinking wildly, at the time, of the +conclusion of the celebrated romance called "The House that Jack +Built."</p> +<p>"Yes," said she; "you may keep the uniform, and I'll keep the +note. I am thinking that I'll become a collector of +autographs."</p> +<p>"Why didn't you let that Confederate, whom you found behind the +log, come with you?" asked the Doctor; "do you not think that he +was trying to desert?"</p> +<p>"I thought so, Doctor," said I; "but I feared to be encumbered +with him. Speed was what I wanted just then."</p> +<p>"I suppose you were right," said he; "if he wants to come, he +can come."</p> +<p>"I don't think such a man should have been trusted at all," said +Lydia; "if he would betray his own people, why should he not betray +us?"</p> +<p>"Let us not condemn him unjustly; possibly he was telling the +simple truth," said the Doctor.</p> +<p>"In that case," said I, "I should have caught a Tartar if I had +accepted his company."</p> +<p>"One more thing," said the Doctor; "in talking to Captain +Lewis,"--the Doctor did not say Lewis, but called the officer by +his name,--"in talking to Captain Blank, why did you not raise your +voice loud enough for Jones to hear you? That would have relieved +you at once."</p> +<p>"That is true, Doctor; but I did not understand the situation at +all. Yes, if I had known what he was driving at, a call to Jones +would have settled matters."</p> +<p>"I doubt it," said Lydia; "the captain might have thought you +were Roderick Dhu."</p> +<p>"That man must be somewhat idiotic," said the Doctor; "in fact, +all those lancers are what we mildly term unfortunates. I suspect +that the captain had begun to realize the impotency of his command +in front of Enfield rifles. I fancy that he was frightened, and +that he blustered to hide his scare."</p> +<p>It was getting late. Lydia retired to her own apartment. The +Doctor had smoked and smoked; his pipe had gone out, and he did not +fill it again. He rose. "You can get sleep now, my boy; you have +done a good day's work, or rather a good night's work sandwiched +between two days. General Morell ought to reward you."</p> +<p>"I do not want any reward," said I.</p> +<p>"You would not like a commission?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I don't know what good it would do me," said I.</p> +<p>"It would do you no harm," he said; "it would be an advantage to +you in many ways. You would fare better; your service might not be +really lighter, but you would command more respect from others. +That captain of the lancers will not think of apologizing to you; +but if he knew you as Lieutenant Berwick, he would be quick to +write you a note. If promotion is offered you,--and it ought to be +offered,--you ought not to refuse it."</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am not ambitious--at least, in that +way."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XVIII"></a>XVIII</h2> +<h3>THE BATTLE OF HANOVER</h3> +<center>"The enemy's in view, draw up your powers.<br> +Here is the guess of their true strength and forces<br> +By diligent discovery; but your haste<br> +Is now urged on you."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>On the night of the 25th I was again sent for by General +Morell.</p> +<p>"Berwick," said he, "I trust you are able to do some more hard +work. Have you had a good rest?"</p> +<p>I was unwilling to say that I had not; yet the fact was that I +had suffered greatly, and had not regained condition.</p> +<p>"One good turn deserves another," said he, laughing; "so you +must help me out again; but don't doubt for a moment that your turn +will come, too, some day."</p> +<p>"Well, General," said I, "what's in the wind this time?"</p> +<p>"Sit here," said he, "while I get the map. Your report has been +fully corroborated. General Branch's brigade or division, of some +six to ten regiments and a battery, is at Hanover Court-House, or +was there last night, and is supposed to be there now. A division +of this army will march against Branch. Now I will show you what +you must do for us. Here," pointing on the map to a road running +south, along the railroad from Hanover Court-House, "here you see +the road you were on with the wagons. At this point--a mile and a +half or two miles southeast of Hanover--is the road running down +the river--the road you followed after crossing Crump's Creek. The +force which will march against Branch will be sufficient to crush +him, and we must prevent him from escaping in the direction of +Richmond. Therefore, our attack is arranged to fall on his right. +Now don't make a mistake and be thinking of our right--<i>his</i> +right--here. If we can get around his right, we can drive him into +the Pamunkey River. If we should attack on his left, we should +simply drive him toward Richmond."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I see," said I.</p> +<p>"Now, it is quite possible that he has taken a new position and +nearer Richmond. It is even possible that he has advanced a +considerable distance nearer Richmond; but it is not likely, as he +has been put where he is for the purpose of observing our right and +rear until he is 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."</p> +<p>"Well, General?"</p> +<p>"Knowing our plans, you will be better able to decide what to do +in a critical moment."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Now, what we want to know is the true point upon which our +attack should be directed. If we march straight on Hanover +Court-House, and find that the rebels have left that place and have +moved further south, we shall be attacking their left instead of +their right, and they can retreat toward Richmond. In case they +have moved south, we must not march on the Court-House; we must +attack their right, wherever that may be. Now, that is what you +must do for us: find out where Branch's right flank rests before we +make the attack."</p> +<p>"Then I must precede your march by no great distance."</p> +<p>"Exactly."</p> +<p>"When do you march, General?"</p> +<p>"We march on the 27th, day after to-morrow, at daylight. You +will have to-night and to-morrow and until the middle of the next +day."</p> +<p>"I can see one thing, General."</p> +<p>"What is that?"</p> +<p>"When I find the enemy's right, I must hang to it for fear of +its moving after I report."</p> +<p>"Very well; hang to it."</p> +<p>"And I must have help, so that I can send reports to you while I +do hang to it."</p> +<p>"As much help as you want."</p> +<p>"Have you another man as good as Jones?"</p> +<p>"There is no better man than Jones; you want only two?"</p> +<p>"I think Jones and another will do, if the other man can be +thoroughly depended upon."</p> +<p>"You can have as many men as you want, as many horses as you +want, and anything else that you want--speak out."</p> +<p>"Why don't you have a company of cavalry to do this work for +you, General?"</p> +<p>"A company of cavalry! They wouldn't get within a mile of +Branch!"</p> +<p>"Simply because they would be too many," said I; "all I want is +Jones and another man as good as Jones; if no such man can be +found, I want only Jones."</p> +<p>"What would be your plans?"</p> +<p>"I should report by the third man the first information of +importance; then report by Jones when we find Branch's right; hang +to it myself, and report if it moves. You will need to know where +Branch's right is at the moment when you are ready to strike--not +where it was an hour before."</p> +<p>"Right," said he; "you shall have Jones the second if he can be +found."</p> +<p>"We must not risk a common man, General; better do without such +a man. He might get himself caught and endanger your whole +plan."</p> +<p>"I think we can find a good man. Now, before we leave this, I +must tell you that Colonel Warren's brigade will join in the +movement. Warren is now at Old Church; he will march by the road +that you were on yesterday, while we march upon roads at his left. +You understand?"</p> +<p>"Yes, General."</p> +<p>"Then that is all."</p> +<p>"May I say a word, General?"</p> +<p>"Yes; certainly."</p> +<p>"I trust Colonel Warren's movement will be delayed. He has a +shorter distance to make. If the rebels get wind of his movement +before they know of yours, they will almost be sure to change +position."</p> +<p>"That has been thought of," said he; "and Warren is instructed +not to attack until everything is ready. However, I shall speak to +General Porter again about this."</p> +<p>"Can I see Jones, General?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I can send him to you. When do you start?"</p> +<p>"To-morrow morning, sir."</p> +<p>"At what hour?"</p> +<p>"After breakfast."</p> +<p>"Can you think of nothing else you need?"</p> +<p>"I should like to have a good field-glass, General."</p> +<p>"Nothing else?"</p> +<p>"Some tobacco--chewing tobacco; I should not trouble you about +that, but I know that Dr. Khayme has none."</p> +<p>"What do you want with the tobacco?" he asked, laughing.</p> +<p>"A man asked me for some, night before last," said I, "and I +could not help him."</p> +<p>"And you want to find him and give it to him?" he asked, yet +laughing.</p> +<p>"Oh, no, sir; but I thought I might find another occasion for +it."</p> +<p>"Well, I'll send it through Jones."</p> +<p>"Let it be common plug tobacco, if you please."</p> +<p>"Just as you wish. Now, here is your glass. It is one of my own, +or rather it was mine; it is yours hereafter."</p> +<p>"Thank you, General; I think it will be of great use. Is there +anything about it to betray me?"</p> +<p>"No; it is English, and has no private mark. You are sure you +have thought of everything?"</p> +<p>"I think so, General; if anything important occurs to my mind +before we start, I'll let you know."</p> +<p>"Be sure to do it."</p> +<p>Jones came about eight o'clock. He told me that he and a man +named Frank were ordered to go with me. Frank, as well as Jones, I +learned, was chosen from the escort of General Porter. I told Jones +what we should need, and he promised to be ready.</p> +<p>In Dr. Khayme's tent there was not much talk that night. Lydia +sat silent and seemingly depressed. The Doctor said that our left +wing had crossed the Chickahominy. Nobody responded. Then he tried +to start an argument about the loss of spiritual power caused by +war, but meeting no encouragement from me, gave it up. The truth is +that I needed rest and sleep. When the Doctor had had his first +smoke, Lydia rose and took his pipe from him. "We must tell Mr. +Berwick good night, Father. He has work to do to-morrow."</p> +<p>The Doctor laughed; but he rose at once, protesting that Lydia +was right. Lydia did not laugh.</p> +<p>Sleep came to me soon, and the next morning I felt greatly +refreshed. While at breakfast, which the Doctor alone joined in +with me, Jones and Frank rode up. I hastened to end the meal, and +we soon were off.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I had made up my mind that if possible we should strike across +the Virginia Central, some miles south of Hanover Court-House, and +work our way toward the Confederate right and rear.</p> +<p>We crossed the Totopotomoy Creek near Pole Green Church, far +above the place where Jones and I had crossed it on the 23rd, and +then took to the woods up the creek swamp, the head of which, I had +ascertained from the map, was at the west of the railroad. We were +now on neutral ground. The usual order of our advance was Jones in +the lead, I following him at not more than forty yards, and Frank +coming behind me at more than twice that distance. Jones was +directed to halt and ride back every time that he should see +anything suspicious. Only once, however, did he have occasion to +observe this order. It was when we were approaching the +Totopotomoy; we were in a considerable thicket and had closed up in +order to keep each his leader in sight; Jones was ahead of me about +fifteen steps. I saw him suddenly pull up his horse sharp; then he +waved his hand at me and came riding back. At his first motion I +had pulled up. When Jones had reached me, he said, "There is smoke +in front."</p> +<p>I beckoned to Frank to come on. We conferred. Jones had heard no +noise, but had seen a thin line of smoke rising through the trees, +which, he said, were larger and less dense just ahead. Jones was +directed to dismount and to approach the smoke until he could learn +what caused it. He returned very soon, and said there was a house +in a small field just before us, and that a wide road ran in front +of the house. We made a detour and passed on.</p> +<p>About six in the afternoon we reached a road running north, the +road, as I supposed, from Richmond to Hanover. We were now about +halfway between Hanover Court-House and the railroad bridge across +the Chickahominy, and still in the Totopotomoy swamp, or that of +one of its branches. We crossed the road, selecting a place where +there were two sudden bends, and looking well both ways before +venturing. After crossing, I directed Jones to take his stand near +the lower bend, and Frank to watch the road from the upper bend, +while I threw sand on the tracks our horses had made in crossing +the road. We were now within less than a mile of the Virginia +Central railroad.</p> +<p>I directed Frank to keep watch on the Hanover road, and went +with Jones toward the railroad, and stationed him near it, or +rather as far from it as he could be and yet see it. Then I +returned to Frank and took his place, directing him to find Jones +and then occupy a position as nearly as possible halfway between +Jones and me. Frank's duties were to connect me with Jones and to +care for the three horses, which were brought together in the +centre lest they should be heard. We were now in position to +observe any movement by rail or by road between Richmond and +Hanover Court-House, and I decided to remain here for the most of +the night.</p> +<p>From my position I could hear trains moving, in my rear, but for +half the night Jones reported nothing. He could understand, of +course, that I could hear the trains. Rain had set in at +nightfall.</p> +<p>About an hour after midnight I heard troops marching north up +the road. I crept up nearer, and, although it was dark and raining, +I could make out that they were cavalry--perhaps as many as a +company. I concluded that the rebels were to the north of us, that +is to say, that if they had moved at all, they were yet between us +and Hanover Court-House.</p> +<p>After the cavalry had passed, I thought the situation very much +more definite. I went to Frank, and directed him to call in Jones. +The three of us then made north, through the woods, leading our +horses. We had a hard time. The woods were wet, the branches of the +trees struck our faces. There was hardly enough light to see the +trunks of the trees. At last we reached an opening through which I +feared to advance.</p> +<p>We could see no light from camp-fires in any direction. The +rebels were yet far to the north, but their cavalry patrols might +be anywhere--might be upon us at any moment.</p> +<p>Giving Frank my bridle, I crept up to the road, and was glad to +find that the woods on the east side of it extended on toward the +north. I returned to my comrades and together we crossed the road +and continued north in the woods on the east side for perhaps half +a mile. It was now nearly day, and still raining. In the wet woods +on this dark night there was little fear of encountering any enemy; +their cavalry pickets would be in the roads.</p> +<p>I believed that Hanover Court-House was less than five miles +from us, and that if Branch's camp had been moved southward, we +ought soon to see the light of his camp-fires.</p> +<p>Again there was an open field, with a descending slope ahead of +us. I directed Jones to mount and follow me, while Frank should +halt, with his horse and mine to guard, at the top of the hill. I +went forward on foot, Jones riding some ten paces in my rear. At +the bottom of the hill I found a small stream. Bidding Jones return +to Frank and bring him and all the horses up to the branch, I went +up the next hill, still in the open. At the top of the hill I found +a straggling thicket of small pines, not more than a hundred feet +in width; from the far side of this thicket I saw more open ground +before me. I went back, hoping to find my comrades at the branch. +As I went down the hill I heard them coming down the opposite +slope. They seemed to be making a great noise. One of the horses +struck fire with his shoe against a stone. I was greatly alarmed, +and decided at once to occupy the thicket of pines until +daylight.</p> +<p>The horses were tied, and Frank was left to guard them and keep +them from making a noise. Jones was directed to scout to the left +as far as the road, and to return and examine the ground to our +right for a few hundred yards; while he was engaged in this work I +went forward nearly half a mile, going first over open ground, then +through a thick but narrow skirt of woods, and coming out upon a +hill from which I could see through the rain a dim light which I +supposed was caused by camp-fires. A train of cars rumbled at my +left, at a considerable distance--perhaps more than a mile +away.</p> +<p>Returning to the horses I found Jones, who reported that the +road was only some two hundred and fifty yards at our left, with +woods on the other side of it, and that on our right there was +nothing but a wood which extended to a swamp.</p> +<p>Frank and Jones were told to snatch what sleep they could; they +rolled themselves in their gum-blankets and lay under a thick pine +bush. The rain was pouring down.</p> +<p>At the first sign of day I woke the men. We silently made our +way across the road, leading the horses; I knew that the rain would +soon, wash out all our tracks. I now believed that Branch had moved +southward some miles, increasing his distance from the +Pamunkey.</p> +<p>We took a hasty and disagreeable meal; then we divided our +forces again. Jones was near the railroad, I near the road, and +Frank in the centre. We moved northward, stopping every hundred +yards or so, to be certain that our communications were intact. +Jones was so near the railroad that I began to think the train of +cars I had heard running had not been on the Central, but farther +away on the Fredericksburg railroad, which in this place runs +almost parallel with the Central and some miles to the westward. In +the close wet atmosphere the sounds must have come from a greater +distance than I had first thought. This reflection made me suspect +that there were no trains running on the Central railroad,--for we +should have heard them, and Jones would have seen them,--and I +decided to get on the west side of it and endeavour to make my way +toward the rear of the enemy's camp.</p> +<p>It was not yet the hour of sunrise when we got across the +railroad. We still hugged the woods, going north, with the railroad +at our right at distances varying from one hundred to three hundred +yards. We ascended a low hill, from which there might have been a +good lookout but for the rain. I used General Morell's glass, but +could not make out anything in front.</p> +<p>Suddenly we heard the beating of drums, seemingly not more than +half a mile to the north of us. I thought that the enemy's pickets +must be very near to us.</p> +<p>Again I dismounted and crept forward alone, bidding both men +keep a close watch in all directions, and be in constant readiness +to bring me my horse at a moment's warning, for I knew the +possibility of detection and pursuit. Descending a low hill, I +found at the bottom of it a small brook flowing northeastward, and +changed my course at once to suit the stream. I went slowly and +cautiously on through weeds and bushes, sometimes wading down the +stream itself, the water being already very muddy from the rains, +and at last, while bending to right and left and up and down +seeking vision ahead through the thicket, I saw before me an +infantry vedette a very short distance in front. He was facing +south, and I knew from his position, seeing that he was on the west +side of the railroad, that Branch's division or brigade had moved +from Hanover Court-House, or else that here was another body of men +who had taken position on his right.</p> +<p>Retracing my steps as rapidly as possible, I returned to the +hill, and directed Frank to ride with all consistent speed to +General Morell or General Porter, who would no doubt be met +advancing on the road, and report that the enemy had taken such a +position that in order to reach his right flank it would be +necessary for the Union troops to cross to the west side of the +Central railroad some miles south of Hanover Court-House. I +directed him to report also my doubt as to whether Branch had +really moved or had been reënforced, and to say that I should +endeavour at once to resolve this doubt, and to report again +through Jones.</p> +<p>Frank rode away on his mission. It was about seven o'clock.</p> +<p>I put on the gray uniform. A lump came into my throat when I saw +that all the rents had been mended, but I had no time to give to +sentiment.</p> +<p>My glass was slung over my shoulder beneath the gum-blanket, +with which I had been covered all night as a protection from the +rain. I took nothing else with me except my canteen. I directed +Jones to remain where he was, and if I should not return in one +hour, to conclude that I was entangled with the enemy, and that I +could not get away in time; that he must assume from my absence +that the rebel right extended far, because if it did not I should +return to him; in one hour, therefore, he must start to meet our +advancing troops; in that case he was not to encumber himself with +my horse; I might be able to get back to the spot later in the day. +I added that I seriously doubted my ability to get back before the +advance of the Union troops should reach the ground, and impressed +upon Jones the necessity of communicating with General Morell +before dispositions for attack had gone too far. He comprehended +the situation, and promised to follow my instructions.</p> +<p>Again I crept up to the spot from which I had seen the vedette; +he was yet there, still facing south. His line, therefore, +stretched across the branch. I retired a hundred yards or more to a +gully which favoured me, and crept to my left up the hill. At the +top of the hill I entered thicker woods. I stood behind a tree, and +looked and listened. Drums could be heard toward the north, and +seemingly nearer than before; I thought I could hear the long roll, +and feared that the Union advance was already known by the +Confederates.</p> +<p>Now I got on my hands and knees, and began to crawl forward very +slowly. My gum-blanket hindered me; I took it off, put my glass in +it, folded and strapped it, and put it over my shoulder. I was +already wet. Again I went forward slowly. Soon I saw another +vedette, facing south. I retired, and made progress rapidly through +the woods to my left; then I crawled up a long distance. I had +hoped to be able to determine the right of the enemy's pickets and +then return to Jones and send him with my report, while I should +remain at the rendezvous to guide the troops when Jones should have +succeeded in guiding them to me. But I had found the pickets posted +in a very advantageous position for themselves, and a very +difficult one for me; more than an hour had passed since I left +Jones; he was already on his way. It took long for me to make a +prudent approach. As soon as I could see one of the vedettes, I +would retreat through the woods until I was out of danger; then I +would go fifty or a hundred yards to my left, and approach, again +on my hands and knees until I discovered a man, when I would +retreat again, and so on alternately. At one place I saw the +picket-line itself stretching across the top of an open hill, with +the vedettes concealed, no doubt, in the hollow in front. I was +compelled to go almost entirely around a field, taking a back track +for a quarter of a mile, and then going forward again on the west +side of the field.</p> +<p>About ten o'clock the rain ceased, and while I was thus helped +in one respect, I was hindered also. The pickets would be more +alert, and I felt compelled to keep at a greater distance from the +line. I made another advance, and this time continued advancing, +for to my gratification I found no extension of the picket-line in +front of me. I thought at first that it had been thrown back here, +and that I was now going along the western front.</p> +<p>To make sure, I turned to the right--to the east--and went +perhaps three hundred yards without finding anything, and felt +convinced that there was no western front to the rebel line. I +continued to advance eastward, going straight toward the railroad. +At length I had gone a quarter of a mile, and had found +nothing.</p> +<p>Now I began to believe that the rebel picket-line had been +withdrawn while I was going around the field, and I conjectured +that the Confederates had become aware of the approach of our +column, and had retreated, or else were concentrating to meet our +advancing troops.</p> +<p>Suddenly I heard a cannon fire, seemingly a mile away, in a +southeasterly direction.</p> +<p>For a clear understanding of the situation it would perhaps be +well to state here that both Frank and Jones had reached the +cavalry under General Emory, at the head of our column, and had +reported to him as well as to General Morell; and that our column +had advanced by the road we had left, had thrown out a +skirmish-line which extended beyond the railroad, but not far +enough, and had continued to advance until the enemy were felt.</p> +<p>The cannon which I had heard, and which continued to fire, were +of Benson's battery of U.S. artillery, and this was the beginning +of the battle of Hanover Court-House, so called.</p> +<p>At this time one of Branch's regiments--the Twenty-eighth North +Carolina under Colonel Lane--was at Taliaferro's Mill at the head +of Crump's Creek, on a road to the right of our advancing column, +which had thus interposed, without knowing it, between the two +bodies of Confederates. At the first warning of the Union advance, +General Branch had formed his troops facing the east and southeast, +and covering the Ashcake road, which runs in a sort of semicircle +from the Hanover road to Ashland on the west, so that the attack of +the Union forces against the main body of rebels merely forced them +to give ground in the direction of Ashland. Lane, at Taliaferro's +Mill, was left to work his way out, which he did later in the +afternoon with considerable loss.</p> +<p>Now, when the fight opened, the most of Branch's brigade--having +moved somewhat forward--had placed itself between me and our +troops. I soon became aware of this fact by seeing straggling +Confederate soldiers in the woods in several directions; some of +them seemed to be wounded.</p> +<p>Half a mile or so to the eastward the battle was loud. By this +time it was a little after noon; the sun was hot. The sounds of +battle were advancing toward the north. Straggling men went by me, +giving me no attention whatever. I kept my position--not remaining +still, however, but walking about in the woods in order to prevent +the possibility of being suspected of trying to hide--and awaited +the issue.</p> +<p>Soon the straggling had ceased, and the battle died away, and I +began to fear that the Confederates had had the best of it.</p> +<p>An hour or so passed; then a new battle broke out in a +southeasterly direction. This was caused by Branch's endeavouring +to throw a force in the rear of the Union troops, who had pushed on +nearly to Hanover Court-House in pursuit of Lane's regiment, +leaving Branch on their left flank and in position to do great +damage<a name="FNanchor2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2">[2]</a>. Branch +attacked vigorously, but was eventually forced back. Again men +began to rush by me, and this time some of them were in actual +flight. There were many wounded; gradually the woods were scattered +over with a regiment or two, the troops showing various degrees of +disorganization, some of the companies holding together and +retiring slowly, while men, single and in groups, were making their +way, as rapidly as they could run, from the field, yet all in the +same direction, as though they had some knowledge of a +rallying-place.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor2">[2]</a> +On this day Lane's regiment saved the remainder of Branch's +brigade. The main body of Porter's column pursued Lane toward the +Pamunkey, no doubt thinking that all the rebel force was retreating +northward. Lane was entirely routed, and was cut off from Branch +for some days; the story of his retreat and return to Branch is +very interesting. [ED.]</blockquote> +<p>Seeing this confusion of many men, my fear increased, and I +decided quickly--whether right or wrong--that it would not do for +me to remain an idle and unarmed spectator of the retreat; and I +thought, too, that it would be very hazardous to attempt to get out +of this mass of men by going in a northerly or southerly direction, +either of which would be taking them in line, if they could be said +to have a line. I saw, of course, that if I should simply stop--it +would have been easy to play the wounded Confederate--the Union +troops would soon pick me up; but I wanted to see where the +defeated rebels would rally. A man, slightly wounded, I suppose, +threw down his gun near me, and kept on. I picked up the gun--an +Enfield rifle--and joined the fugitives. Unaccountably to me, the +disorder of the troops became greater, and a good many of the +stragglers disburdened themselves of whatever they could throw +away. I soon secured a cartridge-box, and a haversack, and with my +own canteen--the like of which there were many in the hands of the +rebels--I became, for the time, a complete Confederate soldier.</p> +<p>No immediate cause for the disorder of the rebels could be seen. +The Union troops were not in sight. I expected the brigade to soon +make a stand, but the retreat continued; sometimes I caught the +contagion and ran along with running men, although I was sure that +organised bodies were now covering our rear. I had no distinct +purpose except to determine the new line.</p> +<p>After some little time I began to wish that I was well out of +the scramble, but I saw no way out of it. Officers were riding +about and trying to make the men get into some sort of formation. +Evening was near, but I saw that before darkness should cover me +the brigade would be formed again and would make a new stand, or +else retreat in better order in the night.</p> +<p>I now gave up all hope of ever returning to find my horse, but +felt confident that Jones would recover him.</p> +<p>As I had anticipated, the retreat became less disorderly, and at +last ceased altogether. The officers succeeded in forming a line +across a road running to the westward, which I believed, from my +knowledge of the map, to be the Ashcake road. When I reached this +forming line I hesitated. I thought at first that I ought to make +no pretence of joining it; that prudence commanded me to keep far +from it. Then the thought came to me that these disorganized +battalions ware forming in any shape they could now take--men +belonging to different companies, and even to different regiments, +being side by side; so I got into line with them.</p> +<p>I smiled when I remembered that Dr. Khayme had once said that a +spy might find it his duty to desert to the enemy.</p> +<p>The men seemed to have lost none of the proper pride of the +soldier, but they were very bitter against some general or other +unknown to me, and equally so to them, as it appeared; he had +allowed them to be defeated when they could easily have been +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.</p> +<p>It was now dark. There had never been any pursuit, so far as I +could see. Soon the troops were put in motion westward, on the road +to Ashland. If we had a skirmish-line on either flank, I did not +see it; but we had for rear-guard the Seventh North Carolina, still +unbroken, under the command, as I learned, of Colonel Campbell. It +would have been very easy for me to step out of ranks at any time, +either to the right or to the left, into the woods--or into open +ground for that matter--and get away, but such was not now my +intention.</p> +<p>The retreat continued slowly, the mixed men endeavouring while +on the march to find their respective regiments and companies. +Mounted men--officers probably--rode up and down the column crying +out: "Flag of Thirty-seventh is forward," "Flag of Forty-fifth is +behind you," and so on, thus telling the men where to find their +commands. It was really good work, I thought. A little before +midnight--or it may have been much earlier, for I was well-nigh +worn out--a halt was made at the crossroads which I afterward knew +to be the crossing of the Ashcake and Richmond roads about a mile +and a half southeast of Ashland. Here all the men could easily find +their commands, and I knew that perfect organization would be +effected in a very few minutes. Before the line was completely +formed, I walked off and was at once alone in the darkness.</p> +<p>By the stars I was able to strike a course; I went nearly east +for perhaps a quarter of a mile, and lay down under a tree, first +spreading my gum-blanket on the wet ground. My weariness amounted +almost to exhaustion. I was hungry, too, and began to explore my +predecessor's haversack, but fell asleep while thinking of food, +and slept soundly the remainder of the night.</p> +<p>At daylight I was awake. I ate some bacon and hoecake which I +found in the haversack; while doing this, I took a good look at my +gun and accoutrements. The rifle was a long Enfield with three +bands; the cartridge-box and cap-box were slung to a single +waist-belt, the scabbard for the bayonet also, but there was no +bayonet. The brass plate on the lid of the cartridge-box was a U.S. +plate; the belt-buckle also was Federal; both plate and buckle had +been turned upside down, so that each bore the inverted letters S +U. There were a few cartridges in the box--such cartridges as I had +not seen before. I found that the rifle was not loaded, and I +allowed it to remain empty.</p> +<p>After I had eaten, I crept nearer the crossroads. The rebels had +gone. I examined the road and found that all the tracks in the mud +were pointing toward Ashland. I followed on, keeping for a time +openly in the road, for I was as good a Confederate as need be +unless I should be overtaken by any of our own men. I considered +now that this force of the enemy was likely to establish connection +at once with the main Confederate lines near Richmond, if indeed it +had not already done so, and that if I should turn southward I +should be in danger of being forced into the ranks and questioned, +so I decided to go north of Ashland, and determine if possible the +left of the line, which would be, I judged, the extreme left of the +whole Confederate army.</p> +<p>In approaching Ashland I had no trouble; when I came in sight of +the village I began to make a detour to the north, and about an +hour after sunrise placed myself in observation between the +Fredericksburg railroad and the Richmond road, which here run +parallel due north and about half a mile apart. I was facing +south.</p> +<p>About nine o'clock in the morning I was surprised to see to the +rear of my left the Richmond road full of troops marching +southward. I crawled up as near to the road as I dared, and watched +them. There seemed to be but one regiment, which was a large one. +Three or four officers rode at the head of the regiment; one, who I +supposed was the colonel, was a large, heavy-built man who sat his +horse proudly<a name="FNanchor3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3">[3]</a>. +The men marched at the route step; the regiment was in fine order. +In the centre were two flags: one an ordinary Confederate +battle-flag; the other an immense blue banner, emblazoned with the +silver palmetto tree. I could not tell the number of the regiment, +although by this time I had my glass fixed on the flag. The +Carolinians passed on south and, I supposed, entered Ashland.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor3">[3]</a> +Doubtless Colonel Hamilton, who on this day marched south from +Hanover Junction with his regiment, the First South Carolina. +[Ed.]</blockquote> +<p>I still kept my place, observing the roads narrowly. I remained +in this position the rest of the 28th, but saw no other movement. +At nightfall I crept up nearer to the village and found a +comfortable resting-place in an old haystack, east of the +place.</p> +<p>The next morning I was slowly advancing toward the railroad, +with the purpose of ascertaining whether Ashland was still occupied +by the rebels, when I heard noises behind me, and, turning, I saw +three Union soldiers on horseback coming toward me. They saw me at +the same time. One of them shouted to me to surrender, and I threw +up my hands. They belonged to Company D of the Fifth U.S. cavalry. +I easily succeeded in proving to the lieutenant in command, who +soon rode up at the head of the company, and whose name I learned +was Watkins, that I was a Union scout. The sight of General +Morell's glass had its effect.</p> +<p>I told the lieutenant that in my opinion there was no strong +force in Ashland. We were at this time almost in sight of the town. +The lieutenant mounted me behind a trooper; the company made a dash +into the place; the rebels fled, leaving two of their pickets in +our hands. In the village were some stragglers who also were made +prisoners. We remained in Ashland for several hours, the cavalry +securing much property. There were a good many horses taken, one of +which the lieutenant willingly allowed me to use.</p> +<p>The enemy's infantry had retreated nearer Richmond, and, as all +the country to the east of us was now in our hands, there was +nothing to hinder my reaching General Morell's camp that night. The +general told me that they had given me up for lost, and asked what +had become of me after sending Jones back. I gave an account of my +work, and he was pleased to say that he approved of what I had +done. He told me that Jones had recovered the horse that I had +abandoned.</p> +<p>As I approached Dr. Khayme's tent, the Doctor was just entering +it; the tent was dark. I stood outside until he lighted a candle; +then I called him by name. He rushed out and embraced me. In a few +words I told him of my work, and why I had been away so long.</p> +<p>"I will write at once to General Grover," said he, "and to +Lydia, too, who is at Porter's field hospital; we have many wounded +from your battle."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XIX"></a>XIX</h2> +<h3>THE ACCURSED NIGHT</h3> +<center>"If ever I were traitor, My name be blotted from the book +of life, And I from heaven banished!"--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>The night of my return was the 29th of May, 1862. I was very +tired, although I had had a good rest the night before, and +alternations of walking and riding in the day. Our supper was soon +despatched, and the Doctor got his pipe.</p> +<p>"Now, Jones, pull off that distinguished disguise and put on +your own dress; there it is in the corner, just as your namesake +brought it."</p> +<p>"No, Doctor," said I; "let's save labour by not doing it; I can +content myself till bedtime as I am."</p> +<p>"How long have you had it on?"</p> +<p>"Almost two days."</p> +<p>"Don't you begin to feel like a Confederate?"</p> +<p>"Not just at this moment, Doctor."</p> +<p>"So you have been with North Carolinians and with Georgians +again?"</p> +<p>"Yes, and very nearly with South Carolinians."</p> +<p>"You mean the regiment with the blue flag?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I wish I could have learned its number."</p> +<p>"It was the First, very likely," said he.</p> +<p>This seemed a most astonishing statement, although I had many +times before had evidences of peculiar knowledge possessed by Dr. +Khayme. I thought it was the time to ask him, directly, how it was +that he obtained information unobtainable by ordinary mortals.</p> +<p>"Why should you think so, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Because of more than one circumstance. Before communications +with our Southern friends became so infrequent I kept up with +Charleston. I know that the First South Carolina regiment was on +Sullivan's Island early in 1861, some months before the bombardment +of Fort Sumter, and I remember reading in the <i>Mercury</i> that +the ladies of Charleston had presented the First with a very heavy +blue silk banner--a State flag with the silver palmetto and +crescent."</p> +<p>"Then it may be the First regiment, Doctor; I saw the palmetto +and the crescent."</p> +<p>"More than that," he continued; "the First South Carolina is one +of the regiments which were lately under Anderson near +Fredericksburg, and we know that Anderson's force has fallen back +on Richmond. It must have passed through Ashland very +recently."</p> +<p>"I wonder if there are any men in that regiment whom we used to +know," said I, musingly.</p> +<p>"Very likely; there are companies in it from Charleston."</p> +<p>"Wouldn't it have been strange if I had gone with them, and +somebody had recognized me?"</p> +<p>"Stranger things than that might happen to you; somebody might +have recognized you--some old schoolmate, for example--and yet +might have sworn that you are a Carolinian. Was it known to +everybody at school that you were from the North?"</p> +<p>"I think it was, at first; but not in my last years there; of +course, some of the boys knew it."</p> +<p>"Besides," said the Doctor, "there is more than one Northern man +in the Confederate army--men who moved South before the war."</p> +<p>"Yes, I suppose so; but I cannot understand them."</p> +<p>"They have acquired homes, and think they must defend their +homes; that is all, at least so far as concerns those of them who +reason, and the others don't count."</p> +<p>"They might at least be neutral," I said.</p> +<p>"How could they think that being neutral would defend their +homes?"</p> +<p>"And you think that the Southern people really believe their +homes in danger?"</p> +<p>"No doubt of it--and they are right. Have you not already seen +more than one Southern home destroyed?"</p> +<p>"Yes, here where the war is; but the average home in the South, +far away from the armies."</p> +<p>"There will have been very few homes in the South far away from +armies; to conquer the South you must overrun her territory."</p> +<p>"Doctor, you are gloomy to-night, and I confess that I am also. +I wonder what's the matter with us."</p> +<p>"I don't admit being unusually gloomy," said the Doctor; "true, +I have been seeing pain and wretchedness recently, and so have you. +Our trades, however, ought to have accustomed us to such by this +time, if ever."</p> +<p>"I don't think I should ever become accustomed to blood; I don't +wish to," said I.</p> +<p>"You need never fight another battle," said he.</p> +<p>"How can I avoid battle?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Your services as a scout are worth more than forty cents a day; +you ought not to fight at all."</p> +<p>"You think fighting more dangerous than scouting?"</p> +<p>"Fighting and scouting are more dangerous than scouting."</p> +<p>"But what can I do? If I am recalled by General Grover, I shall +likely be required to do both."</p> +<p>"I think not. They want you to remain alive. Unless you join the +Confederates again, as you did in the battle the other day, it is +not very likely that you will serve any more in the ranks; of +course, you can do so if you insist upon it."</p> +<p>"Insist on what? Joining the Confederates?"</p> +<p>"No; insist on fighting in the ranks."</p> +<p>"I should feel it my duty to go into battle with the Eleventh +unless I had other work at the time."</p> +<p>"Do you think it your duty to give your best powers to your +cause, or your poorest?"</p> +<p>"Can I not do both?"</p> +<p>"No--not at all; you should study your important calling, and +make an art of it."</p> +<p>"I dread it; to believe that I must become a regular spy is a +terrible thought to me."</p> +<p>"Why so?"</p> +<p>"Well, Doctor, you know that I am peculiar."</p> +<p>"You allude to your memory?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"What effect does spying have upon you?"</p> +<p>"It seems to weaken me, body and mind. I was never so exhausted +in my life as when I came back on the 24th."</p> +<p>"You had had a hard time, no doubt."</p> +<p>"But it was not merely a hard time; it was a peculiar time. I +believe that for a short while I lost sight of the fact that I was +a Union soldier."</p> +<p>"That only shows that you acted your part."</p> +<p>"The sudden changes are what I find so hard. To imagine myself a +Confederate, and then in a moment to become a Federal, and in the +next moment by effort become a rebel again, is revolutionary."</p> +<p>"Very likely."</p> +<p>"I'd prefer being in the ranks."</p> +<p>"Do you believe that your peculiar condition is what makes your +sufferings?"</p> +<p>"I know it. The vivid result of my imagination is suddenly +contrasted with as vivid a memory; before I quit being one man I +become another, and I can see two of me at once."</p> +<p>"And that proves painful?"</p> +<p>"It is torture. If I am to imagine myself a Confederate in order +to succeed, why, I prefer the ranks."</p> +<p>"You have struck upon a truth not generally appreciated, Jones; +the relation of the imagination and the memory is almost unity. But +for your recollecting your life in the South, and your consequent +real and practical sympathy with the people of the South, you could +not become, in imagination, a Confederate. Imagination depends +largely on memory. The extraordinary vividness of your memory +produces a corresponding vividness in imagining. You see how +valuable are your peculiar powers. I have no doubt that with a +little data concerning some narrow section of the South, such as +knowledge of family names and family history, you could join the +Confederate army and play a most important role, giving to your +generals information of contemplated movements as well as of +movements, in actual progress."</p> +<p>"Doctor Khayme," said I, "never could I consent to such a +life."</p> +<p>"I do not advise it," said he, without appearing to regard my +emotion; "I doubt if it would be best for you. It would be more +likely to confirm your intermittent states. What you need is to get +rid entirely of any necessity for the exercise of either memory or +imagination for a time. To cherish either is to cherish both. On +the contrary, any great and long-continued interest, which would +dissociate you from your past, would, in my judgment, prove the end +of your peculiar states."</p> +<p>I did not reply. The Doctor remained silent for a long time. +When he spoke again, he rose to retire. "Goodnight, my boy; and +hope for the best. Whatever comes is right, as it fits into the +total. Keep up your spirits. War has many startling opportunities +as well as disasters."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>In the afternoon of the 31st, sounds of a heavy battle were +heard miles away to the southeast, and soon the rumour ran that the +whole of McClellan's left wing was engaged. Fearing that my company +was actually in battle, I begged Dr. Khayme to send a man to report +for me to our adjutant; General Morell kindly added, at the +Doctor's solicitation, a few words to General Grover.</p> +<p>This battle of Fair Oaks, or Seven Pines as the rebels call it, +raged during all the afternoon of the 31st of May and part of June +1st, and did at one time threaten to call for the whole strength of +McClellan's left; Grover's brigade, however, was still held in +reserve, and did not become engaged. While the battle was in +progress, intense but subdued excitement was shown by the men in +General Morell's command, and by the other troops on the right. On +the part of all, there was constant expectation of orders to march +to the help of the Union forces on the further side of the +Chickahominy, and when news of the final struggle came, in which +our men had more than held their own, disappointment at not being +chosen was as great, perhaps, as joy over success. All seemed to +feel that they had been robbed of an opportunity.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the evening of June 2d, the Doctor and I were sitting in his +tent, he busily engaged in writing I know not what, when an order +came from General Morell for me to report to him at once.</p> +<p>Being ushered into the general's tent, I found there two +officers unknown to me. The one who most attracted my +attention--though I was careful not to show any curiosity--was a +man of nearly forty years, of medium height and muscular frame. His +hair was dark; his mustache very slightly tinged with gray. His +manner indicated an extremely nervous sense of responsibility, and +the attitude of deference, which the others observed in his regard, +was very noticeable. His face reminded me vaguely of some +portrait--I knew not whose.</p> +<p>The other officer was a larger man, of about the same age, and +of a more cheerful temper, if one could judge in a single +opportunity. He seemed to be on a very familiar footing with the +officer whom I have first mentioned.</p> +<p>General Morell did not present me to either of the two officers. +In the middle of the tent was a camp-table, upon which a map was +spread, and around which the three officers were sitting. General +Morell allowed me to stand, cap in hand, while I listened to some +words of a conversation which I supposed had been practically +finished before I entered.</p> +<p>"I believe that you clearly understand what is needed," said the +smaller officer.</p> +<p>"Perfectly," said General Morell.</p> +<p>The larger man contented himself with merely nodding.</p> +<p>"Then," said the first speaker, "it only remains to know +certainly whether we have the means in hand."</p> +<p>The larger man now spoke: "The work can be done; if not in one +way, then in another. A reconnaissance would effect with certainty +our present purpose. Why risk possible failure with a single +man?"</p> +<p>"We cannot be too prudent," replied the other; "we must not +divulge our intentions. Lee would know at once the meaning of a +reconnaissance."</p> +<p>"We might make more than one, and let him guess which is +serious."</p> +<p>"No; the way to go about it is not by force. If General Morell +has confidence in his means, let General Morell proceed in his own +way."</p> +<p>"I have confidence," said General Morell; "but, of course, any +plan might fail. The only thing in life that is certain is death. I +should say that we have nine chances out of ten."</p> +<p>"Then do it your own way," said the small officer, rising; the +others rose also. "I must tell you good night, gentlemen."</p> +<p>The three now left the tent, while I remained.</p> +<p>I had not been unobservant. No names had been spoken, nor any +title given to the officers, and I suspected that very high titles +had been suppressed. Exactly who these officers were, I could not +know, but that they were in great authority was not to be doubted; +I made a wild guess that one was General Porter and the smaller man +some trusted staff-officer from army headquarters<a name= +"FNanchor4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4">[4]</a>.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor4">[4]</a> +Doubtless this officer was General McClellan himself. Mr. Berwick +describes very well McClellan's person, which--from the poor cuts +in the newspapers--had made an impression, yet a vague impression. +It is not a matter for wonder that Mr. Berwick had never before +been in the presence of the great general. [ED.]</blockquote> +<p>General Morell returned alone. He motioned me to a seat at the +table, then sat opposite me. For a time he seemed preoccupied. At +length he looked me full in the face, and said gravely, "Berwick, +it is absolutely necessary for us here on this flank to get +accurate information of the enemy's strength, and as soon as +possible."</p> +<p>"The whole line of the enemy?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No; the strength of his left--the position and forces of his +left wing."</p> +<p>"A difficult undertaking, General," said I.</p> +<p>"Yes, but not too difficult, I think; and whether difficult or +not, it must be done. Here is our map. It shows us nothing but the +country, with the positions of a few batteries and pickets that can +be plainly seen from our lines. We do not know how well fortified, +or how many, are the troops opposed to us. We have information, but +we fear that it is not reliable; in fact, it is contradictory in +some of the most essential points. We do not know the length of the +enemy's line; we suppose it rests on the James River above Richmond +as well as below Richmond. That makes too long a line to be very +strong in all its parts. Their left may be a mere skirmish-line; +their extreme right may be only cavalry. Some parts of their line +must be very thin, and it is suspected that their left is the +thinnest part."</p> +<p>To this I said nothing, and the general continued: "The force +under Anderson from Fredericksburg has 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."</p> +<p>While the general had been speaking, my mind was more fixed upon +myself than upon what he was saying. The ideas he expressed were +readily understood: their implications in regard to myself were +equally clear; he wanted me to serve again as a getter of +information. My stomach rose against my trade; I had become +nauseated--I don't know a better word --with this spying business. +The strain upon me had been too great; the 23d and 24th of May had +brought to my mental nature transitions too sudden and entire to be +wholesome; I felt that only a positive command to enter the rebel +lines would justify me in doing myself such violence again; I had +begun to fear for myself; I certainly should not volunteer.</p> +<p>"Now, Berwick," said the general; "I believe that you are the +man for our business. Do you feel free to undertake it for us?"</p> +<p>"Please tell me what you have in mind, General," I said, more +with the view of softening a predetermined refusal than with any +intention of heeding his wishes.</p> +<p>"We want accurate information of the enemy's strength on his +left," said he; "look at this map--here is our position, nearly on +our extreme right; we want you to find out what is opposite our +right and what force extends beyond our front. The enemy's line +curves or else has a salient somewhere beyond this point; his line +turns somewhere and extends in some form to the James River. Find +that salient or curve; ascertain its strength and the strength of +their left, or western face."</p> +<p>"And I need not go into their lines to do that?" I asked, +somewhat hopefully, but only a moment hopefully, for I saw how +impossible would be my suggestion.</p> +<p>"I am afraid you will find it necessary to go into the enemy's +lines," said the general.</p> +<p>It was now on my lips to ask General Morell whether I had choice +in the matter, that is, whether I might decline the honour offered +me; but I was checked by the thought that it would be impossible to +explain my reluctance; and without an explanation of my peculiarity +I should suffer the loss of his respect--something I did not wish +to forfeit.</p> +<p>"No," he repeated, "you must get within their lines at night; +remain a day with them, two if necessary, and come out at night. +The distance is not great. A few miles to go and come, and a few +miles within their lines."</p> +<p>Oh, yes! to him it was easy for me to do this. And I have no +doubt that he honestly believed the reputed charm of such +adventures fascinated me as well as others. But if that man on that +accursed night of June had seen what was going on in me, he would +have been far from choosing Jones Berwick as the man to send upon +an enterprise that demanded a fixed purpose and an undisturbed +mind; rather would he have ordered Dr. Khayme to see to it that I +had perfect repose and gentle care lest worst should follow +worse.</p> +<p>But how could I tell him? If I should desire to tell him, how +could I presume upon his good-nature?--the good-nature of a general +of a division, whose office was high and whose time was invaluable, +and who, as I knew well, tolerated my presence for a few moments +only, in order that he might accomplish a purpose.</p> +<p>I must decline or accept without explaining.</p> +<p>"You seem to hesitate, Berwick," said the general; "what is +wrong?"</p> +<p>Brought thus face to face with decision, I could hesitate no +longer; "I should like to confer with Dr. Khayme, General," I +said.</p> +<p>He looked surprised. "What has Dr. Khayme to do with this?" he +asked; then, in a milder tone, he said, "I have no objection, +however; Dr. Khayme will help rather than hinder."</p> +<p>"The Doctor is my best friend," I said; "and he is much wiser +than I am; if I should undertake the duty you outline, he would, as +you say, General, help rather than hinder; he can be a very great +help."</p> +<p>"We have little time to spare, Berwick. How long do you want +with Dr. Khayme?"</p> +<p>"Did you expect me to begin work to-night, General?"</p> +<p>"Yes; you ought to be within their lines by daylight."</p> +<p>"And what is the time now?"</p> +<p>"Ten o'clock."</p> +<p>"Can you wait my answer an hour?"</p> +<p>"What do you mean by your answer?" he said.</p> +<p>The question and the tone were not to my taste. If I was being +treated as a party to a possible agreement, well and good; if +not--if the general was merely commanding me to obey him, well and +good--I would obey without further delay or hesitation.</p> +<p>I rose and saluted. "General," I said, "if you order me to go +into the enemy's lines, I shall go. If you are asking me to go into +the enemy's lines, I inquire, in my turn, whether you can wait my +answer an hour."</p> +<p>"Sit down, Berwick," said the general.</p> +<p>I obeyed. It was not strange that he should wish no +unpleasantness. Though scouts are under orders just as other men +are, it is not hard to understand that generals feel it necessary +to be somewhat delicate in their treatment of such peculiar +servants. I suppose that, in the mind of a general, there always +exists some fear that his spies will not prove as diligent and +self-sacrificing as they could be. I had not, in my treatment of +General Morell, intentionally played upon this fear: such a course +would have been contemptible; yet I could see at once the effect of +my speech, and I endeavoured to set myself right in his mind.</p> +<p>"Perhaps, General," said I; "perhaps I have presumed too much +upon the apparent nature of our former relations; if so, I beg to +apologize. Give me a plain, direct order and I will try to obey it, +and without mental reservation."</p> +<p>"But, Berwick, my good fellow, you know as well as I do that any +order to a scout can only be of the most general nature; and you +know, too, that an unwilling scout is no scout at all."</p> +<p>"Then, to be plain with you, General, I should greatly prefer +that you send some other man on this expedition."</p> +<p>"Berwick," said he, "you are the best man available for this +present work."</p> +<p>"Then order me to go, General."</p> +<p>"No," said he; "I'll humour you. Go to Dr. Khayme and return in +one hour if possible--and no hard feelings," he added, giving me +his hand.</p> +<p>As I went toward the Doctor's tent, my intense distaste for the +work offered me seemed to lessen. Perhaps the night air had some +effect on me; perhaps the general's parting words had soothed me; +perhaps the mystery attaching to the council of war, so to speak, +had exaggerated my fears at first, and now calmness had set in; at +any rate, before I had reached the Doctor I was beginning to +sympathize with General Morell, whose responsibility was so great, +and whose evident desire to conciliate had touched me, and was +wishing that I could have served him. Then, too, the question came +to me what would General Morell do in case my refusal was final? +And I had little doubt that the correct reply was: He will command +me. And, in that case, our relationship would be weakened +unnecessarily; better go willingly than seem to go sullenly. Yet, +with all this, I had resolved that if any escape from this +frightful duty should be presented, if any possible substitute +could occur to the general's mind, or if, by any means, the bitter +extreme of mental suffering, and even--I admitted it to myself--of +mental danger, could be avoided, I should not consent to serve.</p> +<p>To speak of this subject to Dr. Khayme would give me no +embarrassment; I was sure of his full sympathy; but I was hampered +by a doubt as to how much I should tell him of the necessity which +prompted the demand for my work. The three generals had spoken of +important matters before me, or at least hinted at them, and +General Morell had been still more communicative. I made up my mind +to say nothing of these matters to the Doctor.</p> +<p>When I reached the tent I found my old master yet busy at his +writing. As I entered he looked up at me, and immediately rose from +his seat.</p> +<p>"You have been tried," said he; "lie down and rest."</p> +<p>He sat by me and felt my pulse. Then he said, "You will do; it +is only a momentary unsteadiness."</p> +<p>Yet, if ever I saw alarm in any one's eyes, that feeling was +then in Dr. Khayme's.</p> +<p>I had said nothing; I now started to speak, but the Doctor +placed a finger on my lips, saying, "Not yet; I'll do the talking +for both of us."</p> +<p>He rose and brought me water, and I drank.</p> +<p>Then he sat by me again, and said, "The fight which one must +make with his will against impulse is not easy, especially with +some natures; and a single defeat makes the fight harder. To yield +once is to become weaker, and to make it easy to yield,"</p> +<p>I understood. He could read me. He knew my weakness. How he knew +I could not know; nor did I care. He was a profound soul; he knew +the mind if ever yet mere man knew mind; he could read what was +going on in the mind by the language of the features and the body. +Especially did he know me. But possibly his knowledge was only +general; he might infer, from apparent symptoms, that some mental +trouble was now pressing hard upon me, and, without knowing the +special nature of the trouble, might be prescribing the exercise of +the will as a general remedy. Yet it mattered nothing to me, at the +moment, I thought, how he knew.</p> +<p>"You will not yield," said he.</p> +<p>I closed my eyes, and thought of Lydia, and of my father, and of +Willis, and of Jones, and of nothing connectedly.</p> +<p>"Do you remember," he asked, "the first time you came with me to +the little cottage in Charleston?"</p> +<p>I nodded.</p> +<p>"At that time you were passing a crisis. I would not tell you to +will. Do you remember it?"</p> +<p>Again I nodded assent.</p> +<p>"To will at another's dictation is impossible. The will is free. +If I should tell you to will any certain thing, it would do no +good. All that I can do is to say that the will is free."</p> +<p>His finger was yet on my lips. My mind had taken in all that he +said, although my thought was giddy. He was clearly right. If I +should surrender once, it would be hard to recover my former +ground. Yet I doubted my power to will. The doubt brought terror. I +wished that he would speak again.</p> +<p>"The power of habit is not lost in a moment. It may be +unobserved, or dormant even, but it is not destroyed. No man +accustomed to keep himself in subjection can fail to distinguish +temptation from surrender."</p> +<p>How well he could read me!</p> +<p>"The desire to will may momentarily fail through bodily +weakness, or through fear--- which is the same thing. But he who +can will when he desires to will not, conquers himself doubly."</p> +<p>I put his hand away and rose.</p> +<p>"What time is it, Doctor?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Half-past ten," said he, without looking at his watch.</p> +<p>"I must report to General Morell at eleven," I said.</p> +<p>"We must not waste time, then," he said; "who accompanies +you?"</p> +<p>"I go alone."</p> +<p>He looked at me searchingly, then grasped my hand. He +understood.</p> +<p>"You have strengthened your will; good. Now I will strengthen +your body."</p> +<p>He went to a small chest, from which he took a flask. He poured +a spoonful of liquid into a glass. I drank.</p> +<p>"It will be slow and last long," said he.</p> +<p>He brought me the gray clothing and helped me to dress; he +turned the pockets of my blue clothes and selected such things as I +needed.</p> +<p>"Do you go armed?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes; apparently. I shall take the Enfield--unloaded."</p> +<p>He brought the cartridge-box and the canteen; he brought the +haversack, and put food in it.</p> +<p>Said he, "I wish you would humour one of my whims."</p> +<p>"Anything you wish, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Put the palmetto buttons on your coat."</p> +<p>It was soon done. I was passive; he was doing the work.</p> +<p>"Now," he said, "one other thing. Take this pencil, and this +book. Turn to May 23d. I will dictate."</p> +<p>It was a small blank-book, a little soiled, with the pages +divided into sections, which were headed with dates for the year +1862.</p> +<p>"Turn to May 23d," he had said.</p> +<p>"I have it," said I.</p> +<p>"Read the date," said he.</p> +<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862."</p> +<p>"Now write."</p> +<p>The Doctor dictated; I wrote:--</p> +<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather +clear."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862. "On camp guard. Letters from home. +Showers. Marched at night."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862. "Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at +night."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862. "Marched but a few miles. Day very hot. +Weather bad. Heavy rain at night."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862. "Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched +past--"</p> +<p>"What brigade was that you saw at Hanover Court-House?" the +Doctor asked.</p> +<p>"Branch's."</p> +<p>"Yes, Branch's; write, 'Marched past Branch's brigade, that had +been fighting.'"</p> +<p>Then the Doctor said: "Now turn to the fly-leaf of the book and +write"--he paused a moment--"simply write Jones. Here--turn the +book lengthwise, and write Jones."</p> +<p>I wrote Jones--lengthwise the book.</p> +<p>"Wait," said he; "put a capital B."</p> +<p>I put a capital B after Jones.</p> +<p>"Let me see," said he.</p> +<p>I showed him the book.</p> +<p>"No," said he; "erase that B and put another one before +Jones."</p> +<p>"Have you an eraser?"</p> +<p>"I'll get one."</p> +<p>The B after Jones was erased, leaving a dark splotch. I wrote B. +before Jones.</p> +<p>"We must get that dark spot out," said he.</p> +<p>He took the book and very carefully tore out part of the leaf, +so that there remained only B. Jones and the part of the fly-leaf +above the writing.</p> +<p>"Now," said he, "put that in your pocket."</p> +<p>"What is all this for, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"For a purpose. Keep it in your pocket; it may serve to protect +you."</p> +<p>"What time is it, Doctor?"</p> +<p>"Ten minutes to eleven."</p> +<p>"I must go."</p> +<p>He said no word; but he put up his hands to my face, and made me +bend to him, and kissed me.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Before midnight one of General Morell's orderlies had passed me +through our cavalry pickets beyond Mechanicsville.</p> +<p>The Doctor's stimulant, or something else, gave me strength, My +mind was clear and my will firm. True, I felt indifferent to life; +but the lesson which the Doctor had given me I had clearly +understood, and I had voluntarily turned the die for duty after it +had been cast for ease. All my hesitation had gone, leaving in its +place disgust kept down by effort, but kept down. I wanted nothing +in life. Nothing? Yes, nothing; I had desire, but knew it +unattainable, and renounced its object. I would not hope for a +happiness that might bring ruin on another.</p> +<p>To die in the work begun this night seemed to me appropriate; +life at the present rate was worse than worthless. Yet I had not +yielded to this feeling even; I would be prudent and would +accomplish what was hoped for, if my strength should serve.</p> +<p>In General Morell's tent I had been offered a lieutenant's +commission,--a blank fully signed and ready to fill, but had +rejected it, through vanity perhaps--the vanity that told me to +first perform a duty for which the honour had been soothingly +offered.</p> +<p>My plans--I had no plans. I had started.</p> +<p>What was the weather when I started that night? I do not know. I +was making for the swamp; I would go to the swamp; I would look for +an opportunity--that was all.</p> +<p>The swamp was soon around me. I filed right. I found mire and +bush, and many obstacles. The obstacles stirred my reason. To +follow every crook of this winding stream was absurd. I came out of +the swamp and began to skirt its edge. I looked toward my +right--the northeast; the sky reflected a dim glow from many dying +camp-fires. I could see how the low swamp's edge bent in and out, +and how I could make a straighter course than the river. In some +places a path was found. Our pickets were supposed to be on the +edge of the hills behind me.</p> +<p>My course was northwestward. I crossed two roads which ran at +right angles to my course and probably entered Richmond. On each of +them successively I advanced until I could see a bridge, upon which +I knew it would not be safe to venture, for it was no doubt held by +the Confederates. I continued up the stream, approaching it at +times to see if it had narrowed.</p> +<p>About two miles, I supposed, from our cavalry vedettes, I +crossed a railroad. On the other side I turned southward. The +ground was covered with dense undergrowth and immense trees, and +was soft and slippery from recent high water. My progress was soon +interrupted by a stream, flowing sluggishly to my left. I sought a +crossing. The stream was not deep, but the slippery banks gave me +great difficulty in the darkness. The water came to my waist; on +the further side were hollows filled with standing water left by +the freshet. I had crossed the main branch of the Chickahominy.</p> +<p>Within a mile I expected to find Brook Run, behind which it was +supposed the Confederate left extended, and where I must exercise +the greatest care lest I run foul of some vedette. How to avoid +stumbling on one of them in the darkness, was a problem. Very +likely they were placed from a hundred to two hundred yards apart, +and near the bank of the stream, if practicable, especially at +night, for the stream itself would not only be their protection, +but also, by its difficulty and its splashing, would betray any +force which should attempt to cross to the south side.</p> +<p>But I found the creek very crooked, and I considered that a line +of vedettes, two hundred yards apart by the course of the stream, +would require probably a man to every fifty yards in a direct line, +and such a line of vedettes could not well be maintained +constantly--never is maintained, I think, unless an enemy's +approach is momentarily feared, in which case you frequently have +no vedettes at all. Following up this thought I concluded that the +vedettes were, most likely, watching their front from the inner +bends of the stream, and that, at a bend which had its convex side +toward the north, was my opportunity.</p> +<p>I was not long in finding such a bend. And now my caution became +very great, and my advance very slow. The bank sloped, but was +almost completely hidden in the darkness. I could not see the edge +of the water.</p> +<p>Lying flat, I thrust the butt of my gun ahead of me, and moved +it up and down and right and left, trying the inequalities of the +ground. To make no sound required the very greatest care; a slip of +an inch might have caused a loud splash.</p> +<p>Slowly I gained ground until I reached the water, and stood in +it to my knees. I listened--not a sound. I slowly moved forward, +raising my foot not an inch from the muddy bottom, straining eye +and ear to note the slightest sign of danger. The water deepened to +my middle.</p> +<p>I crawled up the further bank. Again I lent ear. Nothing. I +crawled forward for fifty yards or more, hoping, rather than +believing, that I was keeping halfway between the sides of the +bend.</p> +<p>I rested a while, for such work is very hard. Before a minute +had passed I heard a noise--and another: one at my right, the other +at my left. The sounds were repeated. I knew what they meant--the +vedette on either side of me was being relieved. My course had been +right--I was midway between two sentinels.</p> +<p>How to get through the picket-line ahead of me? I reasoned that +the pickets were not in the swamp, but on the edge of the hills. +Lying there between the two vedettes I imagined a plan. I knew that +a picket-line is relieved early in the day when troops are in +position, as the armies were now. If I could see the relief coming, +I would show myself just at the time it arrived, hoping that each +party would take me to belong to the other.</p> +<p>But suppose I should not see the relieving company, or suppose +any one of a thousand things should at the last moment make my plan +impracticable, what then?</p> +<p>I saw that I must have some other plan to fall back on; I would +make some other plan as I crawled forward.</p> +<p>At what moment should I strike the line of Confederate pickets? +That the country outside was in their cavalry lines I well knew, +and I hoped that for this reason their infantry would be less +watchful; but this thought did not make me any the less prudent and +slow in my advance. I had easily succeeded in passing the vedettes; +to avoid the vedette reliefs might not be easy.</p> +<p>When I reached the edge of the swamp, daylight was just +beginning to show. Could I hope to remain long between vedettes and +pickets? Impossible. But impossible is a strong word, I thought. +Why not climb? Trees were all around me; I might easily hide in the +thick boughs of a cedar near by. But that would do me no good; at +least, it could do no good unless in case of sudden necessity. I +must get through the picket-line; outside I could do nothing. Once +in rear of the Confederate pickets, I should have little or no +trouble in remaining for days in the camps and in the main lines; +getting through was the difficulty. Daylight was increasing.</p> +<p>Had it taken me two hours to crawl from the line of vedettes to +this edge of the swamp? The question rose in my mind from seeing a +relief come down the hill at my right; two men, supposably a +non-commissioned officer and a private, were going to pass in fifty +yards of me. I let them pass. They went into the swamp. Five +minutes later two men returned by the same route, or almost so, but +came a little nearer to me; I saw them coming and felt for my +glass, but did not find it. I supposed that Dr. Khayme had +forgotten to put it in my haversack. Yet the men--no doubt the same +non-commissioned officer, with the private he had just relieved +from duty as a vedette--passed so near me that I could distinctly +see their dress, and could note its worn and bedraggled appearance. +These men had seen hard service, evidently.</p> +<p>Five minutes more passed. The east was aglow with day. Two men +at my left were now coming down the hill. They passed into the +swamp. These men wore uniforms fresh and clean.</p> +<p>The thought came upon me at once that I had passed between two +vedettes belonging to different regiments. I cast about for some +way to take advantage of this circumstance, but racked my brains to +no purpose. Finally, however, an odd idea was born. Could I not go +back to the vedettes, and talk to either the right or the left man +of the connecting line? He would probably think that I belonged to +the command joining his. No doubt I could do this; but what should +I gain? I should merely be losing time.</p> +<p>Then another idea came. Could I not post myself as a Confederate +vedette between the connecting men? But for what? Even if I could +do so there was no profit in this romantic idea. I gave it up.</p> +<p>Yet I must do something. I considered the chances of going +forward boldly, walking straight between two pits, and on up the +hill. The pickets would see that I was a Confederate. If I could +strike between the connecting pits of the two commands, the thing +might be done. Yet I wanted a better way.</p> +<p>Before the second relief had returned I was hidden in the boughs +of a tree. The corporal and a man passed back as they had come. +They were talking, but I could not hear what they said.</p> +<p>I watched them from the tree. A gully was in front of me, a +large gully, only in parts visible from my position; it seemed to +be on their route. The two men became hidden by this gully. I saw +them no more. My interest was excited. Why had the men gone into +this gully? There was smoother ground outside. They had a purpose; +I must find it out.</p> +<p>Until the next relief should come I was comparatively safe. I +was on neutral ground, or unobserved ground, for an hour at least. +I could not know whether the reliefs came as ordinarily--once every +two hours. There would probably be nobody passing between vedettes +and pickets--unless, indeed, some officer should go the rounds of +the sentinels; that was something I must risk.</p> +<p>I came down from the tree and cautiously approached the mouth of +the gully. I climbed another tree, from which I had a better view. +I could now see that the gully extended far up the hill, and I +suspected that the picket-line stretched across it; but there was +no indication of the purpose which had caused the men to go into +the gully. My position was a good one, and I waited. I could see a +part of the picket-line--that is, not the men, but the +rifle-pits.</p> +<p>Ten minutes went by. Coming down the hill from the right in an +oblique direction toward the gully, I saw an unarmed rebel. He +disappeared. He had gone down into this gully, which, I was now +confident, separated by its width the pickets of different +commands. What could this unarmed man be doing in the gully? +Nothing for me to do but to wait; I was hoping that an opportunity +had been found.</p> +<p>Soon I saw another man coming down toward the gully; he was +coming from the other side--the left; he was armed. At nearly the +same instant the unarmed man reappeared; his back was toward me, he +held his canteen in his hand. The situation was clear; there was +water in the gully; my opportunity had come.</p> +<p>I came down from the tree. Almost an hour would be mine before +the vedettes were relieved. Cautiously I made my way to the mouth +of the gully. I lay flat and watched. A man was climbing the side +of the gully; he was going to the left; he was armed--doubtless the +man I had seen a moment before. I went into the gully. I must get +to that spring or pool, or whatever it was, before another man +should come.</p> +<p>Before the man had reached the picket-line, I was at the +spring--and it was a good one, at least for that swamp. A little +hollow had been made by digging with bayonets, perhaps, or with the +hands, on one side of the gully, just where a huge bulk of unfallen +earth would protect the hole from the midday sun, the only sun +which could reach the bottom of this ravine, defended by its wall +on either hand. The hole was so small that only one canteen could +be filled at a time; but the water was good compared with that of +the Chickahominy. Doubtless it was the difficulty of getting pure +water that justified the relaxation of discipline which permitted +the men to have recourse to this spring in rear of their vedette +lines.</p> +<p>Canteen in hand, I sat down by the spring. Fully three minutes I +sat and waited. Seeing how muddy I was, I took out my knife and +began scraping the mud from my shoes and clothing.</p> +<p>I heard a step. I put my canteen into the water and held it down +with one hand, continuing, to scrape mud with the other.</p> +<p>"Fill mine, too," said a voice.</p> +<p>I did not look up.</p> +<p>"Ain't this a swamp to read about? Did you ever see the likes o' +mosquitoes?"</p> +<p>"I couldn't see 'em," said I; "supposing you mean whilst I was +on vydette."</p> +<p>He laughed. "Bet you had to fight 'em, though. Say--you won't +git that mud off that-away; let it dry."</p> +<p>I did not reply. He was standing almost over me, upon a sort of +shelf in the side of the gully, as there was not room at the water +for more than one man.</p> +<p>"Gimme your canteen," said I.</p> +<p>He handed it to me. It was a bright new tin canteen of the cheap +Confederate make--uncovered. I knew at once that this man belonged +to the fresh regiment. The old Confederates had supplied +themselves, from battlefields and prisoners, and the greater +capture of stores, with good Union canteens. Even while I was +thinking this, he said, "What'll you take to boot 'twixt your +canteen and mine?"</p> +<p>"Don't want to swap," said I.</p> +<p>I filled his canteen.</p> +<p>"Now, gimme your hand," said I.</p> +<p>He held out his hand, which I grasped, and he pulled hard; it +took two pulls to bring me to his side. I did not look at him, but +knew that he was a small man.</p> +<p>He turned away. I followed him. I could see that his uniform was +new. We reached the edge of the gully, and stood still.</p> +<p>Now I could see the pits. The gully was deeper up the hill. +There was a pit on either edge of the gully, which was about forty +feet wide. Had I known of the existence of that gully, I could have +stolen through the picket-line in the night--but perhaps they had +it guarded at night.</p> +<p>"Say," said my companion, "why didn't you go back on your own +side?"</p> +<p>"Ask me no questions, and I'll tell you no lies," said I.</p> +<p>He was two steps ahead of me--a man of small stature. His shoes +and his clothing up to his knees were almost as muddy as mine. He +walked slowly up the hill. In a very few minutes we should be +within the picket-line; it took all my will to preserve composure; +I was glad the man was in front of me. We stepped slowly up the +hill.</p> +<p>I could see nobody at the pits. The pickets were lying down, +probably, half of them asleep, the other half awake but at ease, I +was wishing my leader would speak again. The nervous tension was +hard. What should I do when we reached the line? I had no plan, +except to walk on. I wished my leader would continue to march, and +go past the pits--then I could follow him; the trivial suggestion +aroused self-contempt; I was thinking of straws to catch at. I must +strengthen my will.</p> +<p>He had made four steps; he said, "Sun's up."</p> +<p>This was not much of an opening. I managed to respond, "Don't +see it, myself."</p> +<p>"Look at that big pine up yonder," said he.</p> +<p>"Be another hot day," said I; "wish I was up there."</p> +<p>"What for?"</p> +<p>"So I could get some sleep."</p> +<p>"You won't git any down here in this old field; that's +shore."</p> +<p>"That's what's a-troublin' me," said I; "and I've got to take +care of myself."</p> +<p>"Ben sick?"</p> +<p>"No, not down sick; but the hot sun don't do me any good."</p> +<p>"Bilious, I reckon," said he.</p> +<p>"No," said I, "not bilious; it's my head."</p> +<p>"Bet I'd go to the surgeon, then, ef it was me," he said.</p> +<p>"Wish I <i>could</i> see the Doctor," I replied, spelling the +word, mentally, with a capital.</p> +<p>"Well, why don't you tell your captain to let you go back?"</p> +<p>"You don't know my captain," said I.</p> +<p>"Hard on you, is he?"</p> +<p>"Well, hard ain't the word; but I wouldn't risk asking him out +here."</p> +<p>"Bet <i>I'd</i> go, anyhow, ef it was me," said he.</p> +<p>"If he should see me going, know what he'd do?"</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"Send a man after me."</p> +<p>"Well, you jest come along with, me. Bet <i>our</i> men won't +stop you; you don't belong to <i>them</i>."</p> +<p>This was just what I wanted; but I was afraid to show any +eagerness. We were almost at the picket-line, and I had no doubt +that my friend was marching straight toward his own rifle-pit; he +was surely on the left of his company--he was such a small man.</p> +<p>"Stop," said I.</p> +<p>He halted, and turned to me. He was a good-looking young fellow. +He had the palmetto button on his coat. Our eyes met.</p> +<p>"You won't give me away?" I said.</p> +<p>"What do you take me for?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, you're all right; but if you should happen to say anything +to anybody, it might get out. If you won't tell any of your men, +I'll go."</p> +<p>"Oh, come along; you needn't be afeared of my tellin' on you. I +don't know your name, and--not to cause hard feelin's--I don't want +to know it; come on."</p> +<p>He stopped at the pit on the edge of the gully. I passed on. I +saw men lying, sitting, and a very few standing down the line at +some of the other pits. I heard no talk. The men at the pit where +my friend had halted did not speak to me. There was nothing to +cause them to speak. He handed his canteen to one of the men; even +this man did not speak; he drank.</p> +<p>I walked up the hill, going straight toward the big pine. The +sun itself could now be seen. What I have narrated had not taken +five minutes, for the pits were not more than a hundred yards from +the edge of the swamp.</p> +<p>Now, once out of sight of the picket-line, I should feel safe. +How far in the rear the Confederate fortifications were, I could +not yet tell--but that mattered little; I should have no fears when +I reached them.</p> +<p>As long as I thought it possible that I could be seen from the +pits I went toward the big pine; soon I knew that I was hidden by +bushes, and I went as rapidly as I could walk in a southeast +direction for nearly an hour. I passed in full sight of the +picket-line in many places, and fortifications far to my right +could be seen upon the hills. My purpose was to enter the main +Confederate entrenchments as nearly as possible opposite New +Bridge--opposite the position from which, I had started on the +night before.</p> +<p>The sun was an hour high. I had come three miles, I thought; I +sat in a shady place and endeavoured to think what course was best. +I believed I had come far enough. I had nothing to do but go +forward. I could see parts of fortifications. No one would think of +hindering my entrance. I would go into the lines; then I would turn +to the right and follow out my instructions.</p> +<p>Again I started, and reached the brow of the hill; it was +entirely bare of trees. Three or four hundred yards in front were +lines of earthworks. I did not pause; I went straight ahead.</p> +<p>A body of men marched out of the breastworks--about a company, I +thought. They were marching forward; their line of march would +bring them near me. I held my course. I judged that the company was +some regiment's picket for the next twenty-four hours; they were +going to relieve the last night's pickets.</p> +<p>The last man of the company had hardly appeared: suddenly I +heard a cannon roar, apparently from a Federal battery almost +directly in my rear, and at the instant a shell had shrieked far +above my head.</p> +<p>At once the Confederates replied. I did not think that I was in +any danger, as the shells went high in the air in order to attain +their object on the other side of the Chickahominy.</p> +<p>The company of infantry had countermarched, and was again behind +the line of earthworks.</p> +<p>I looked around for shelter from the Federal cannon; although +the shells went high, it would be folly for me to go forward into +the place of danger. The hill was bare. There was no depression, no +tree, no fence, nothing but the open wind-swept hill--desolate and +bare. I was on this bare hill.</p> +<p>A man passed me from the rear. He was armed. He, too, like +myself, had no doubt come from the picket-line.</p> +<p>"Better leg it!" he cried--and I legged it with him, making for +the breastworks.</p> +<p>The shells from the rear seemed to fly over at a less +height.</p> +<p>One of the shells burst over my head.</p> +<p>Suddenly I saw my companion throw up one hand--his left +hand--with great violence, and fall flat; hardly was I conscious +that I saw him fall; at the instant there was a deafening noise, +and I was conscious of nothing.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XX"></a>XX</h2> +<h3>THE MASK OF IGNORANCE</h3> +<center> + "I +am mainly ignorant<br> +What place this is; and all the skill I have<br> +Remembers not these garments; nor I know not<br> +Where I did lodge last night."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>"Who is it?"</p> +<p>"Don't know."</p> +<p>My head pained me. I opened my eyes. The blue sky was over me +now. A gently swaying motion lifted and lowered me.</p> +<p>"Hurt bad?"</p> +<p>"Head mashed."</p> +<p>"Anybody else?"</p> +<p>"One more, and <i>he's gone</i>!"</p> +<p>I could not see the speakers ... I tried to turn my head, but +could not.</p> +<p>I turned my eyes to the right, then to my left; the motion of my +eyes threatened to break something in my head.</p> +<p>I saw nothing but the trees, which seemed to move back slowly, +and to become larger and smaller.</p> +<p>Great thirst consumed me. I tried to speak, but could not.</p> +<p>The swaying motion continued. The trees rose and fell and went +by. The blue sky was over me. I did not stir.</p> +<p>How long this lasted I did not know. I was hardly conscious that +I was conscious.</p> +<p>I heard a word now and then: "Look out there!" "Hold on!" "Wait +a second!"</p> +<p>A moment before, I had walked out of the hotel among the pines +... these are not pines; they are oaks. A moment before, the night +sky had been overcast with rain-clouds ... now the sky is blue over +my head, and the sun is hot. My head whirs with pain and fear--fear +of insanity. I have been hurt; I have been unconscious ... I cannot +recollect what hurt me....</p> +<p>But no; there was no mental danger, for my senses were +returning. I could feel that I was being borne, in a way unknown to +me, by some unknown men. I could not see the men, but I could hear +them step,--sometimes very clumsily, causing me renewed pain,--and +I could hear them speak, and breathe heavily.</p> +<p>Now I thought I could see tents, and great fear came on me.</p> +<p>We passed between objects like tents, and went on; we were in a +field, or some open space; I could see no trees. Then I heard, or +thought I heard, a voice cry out strange syllables, "Hep! Hep! +Hep!"--and again, "Hep! Hep! Hep!"</p> +<p>Well, well ... this is a dream; I'll soon wake up; but it is +vivid while it lasts.</p> +<p>Yet the strange dream continued. How long had I been dreaming? I +dreamed that the men came to a stop. They lowered me to the +ground.</p> +<p>I looked at them. They were looking at me. Their faces were +strange. They were dirty. They were clothed alike. I closed my +eyes. I tried to think.</p> +<p>"There he goes again," said a voice.</p> +<p>I felt a hand on my wrist. I opened my eyes. I saw a face +bending over me. The face rose. It was a good face. This man's head +was bare. He had spectacles. He was not dirty.</p> +<p>"Bring him in," said the man with the good face.</p> +<p>I was lifted again. I was taken into a tent ... certainly a +tent. There were low beds in the tent--pallets on the ground. There +were forms on the beds.</p> +<p>The men laid me on a bed. They straightened my limbs. Then one +of them raised me from behind, and another took off my coat, or I +supposed so, though I did not clearly see. Then they went away.</p> +<p>I was thirsty. I tried to speak, but could not speak. The man +with the spectacles came to me. He said: "I am going to dress your +head. You are not hurt badly."</p> +<p>My head was paining me, then, because I had been hurt? Yes, that +must be true. If this was a dream, this part of it was not +unreasonable. The man went away.</p> +<p>But did I ever have such a nightmare before? I had supposed that +people awoke before they were hurt.</p> +<p>The man came again. He brought a bowl of water and a spoon. He +raised my head, and put a spoonful of water to my lips. I tried to +open my mouth, but could not.</p> +<p>He called, "William!" A negro man came. The negro took my head +in his hands. The man with the spectacles opened my mouth, and put +water into it. I swallowed. Then he put the bowl to my lips and I +drank. Both went away.</p> +<p>The man with the spectacles came again. I could see scissors in +his hand. He turned me so that I lay on my side. He began to hurt +me; I groaned.</p> +<p>"I won't be long about it," he said; "I am only cutting your +hair a little, so that I can get at you."</p> +<p>Then I felt my head getting cold--wet, I thought; then I felt my +head get warm; soon I was turned again, and lay on my back.</p> +<p>"Now," said the man, "I'll give you some more water if you'll +promise to go to sleep."</p> +<p>I could not promise, though I wanted the water, and wanted to go +to sleep so that this strange dream might be ended. Then I laughed +inwardly at the thought of banishing dreams by sleeping.</p> +<p>The man brought a glass, and held it to my lips, and I drank. +The water did not taste so good as the first draught did.</p> +<p>I closed my eyes; again the thought came that the dream would +soon be over.</p> +<p>When I opened my eyes, I knew it was night. A lighted candle was +near me. I was lying on my side. I had turned, or had been turned, +while asleep. Near me was a man on a bed; beyond him was another +man on another bed ... a great fear seized me; drops of cold sweat +rolled down my face.... Where was I? What was I?</p> +<p>My head began to throb. I heard heavy breathing. I tried to +remember how I had been brought to this place. It seemed like the +place of ... had I dreamed? Yes, I had dreamed that I had drunk +much water; my throat was parched.</p> +<p>A face bent over me. It was a man's face. I had seen it in my +dream ... then I was not yet awake? I was still dreaming? Or, if I +was awake, maybe I had not dreamed? Can this man and these men and +this tent and this pain all be real? No; certainly not. When I +awake I shall laugh at this dream; I shall write it out, because it +is so complex and strange.</p> +<p>The man, said, "You feel better now, don't you?"</p> +<p>I tried to reply. I could not speak, though my lips moved. The +man brought water, and I drank. He sat by me, and put his fingers +on my wrist.</p> +<p>"You'll be all right in a day or two," he said. I hoped that his +words would come true; then I wondered how, in, a dream, I could +hope for a dream to end. He went away.</p> +<p>I tried hard to think, but the effort increased the pain in my +head. I felt cramped, as though I had lain long in one posture. I +tried to turn, but was able only to stretch my legs and arms.</p> +<p>The man came again. He looked at me; then, he knelt down and +raised my head. I felt better. He pulled something behind me, and +then went away, leaving me propped up.</p> +<p>Daylight was coming. The light of the candle contrasted but +feebly against the new light. I could see the pallets. On each was +a man. There were five. I counted,--one, two, three, four, five; +five sick men. I wondered if they were dreaming also, and if they +were all sick in the head ... no; no; such fantasy shows but more +strongly that all this horrible thing is unreal.</p> +<p>I counted again,--one, two, three, four, five, <i>six</i>; how +is that?</p> +<p>Oh, I see; I have counted myself, this time.</p> +<p>Myself? What part or lot have I with these others? Who are they? +Who am I? I know nothing--nothing.</p> +<p>The man stood over me. I knew that he was a doctor. He said, +"Are you easier?"</p> +<p>I could not reply. He went away.</p> +<p>I closed my eyes, and again tried to think; again the effort +brought increased pain. I could hear a whirring noise in my ears. I +tried to sleep. I tried to quit thinking.</p> +<p>When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining. One side of the tent +was very bright.</p> +<p>A negro man came. I remembered that his name was William. He +brought a basin of water and a towel and sponge. He sponged my face +and hands, and dried them with the towel. Then he said, "Can you +eat some breakfast?" I could not reply.</p> +<p>The men on the pallets--five--were awake. They said nothing. The +doctor was kneeling by one of the pallets--the one next to me. The +man on the pallet groaned. The doctor said something to him. I +could not tell what the doctor said. The man groaned.</p> +<p>Another man, propped up on his pallet, was eating. I began to +feel hungry.</p> +<p>William brought a cup of tea, with a piece of biscuit floating +in it. He raised my head and put the cup to my lips. I drank. +William went away.</p> +<p>The sun was making the tent very warm. Many sounds came from +outside. What caused the sounds I did not know. I was near enough +to the railroad to hear the cars, but I knew the sounds were not +from cars. I could hear shouting, as if of wagoners.</p> +<p>All at once, I heard thunder--no; it could not be thunder; the +sun was shining. Yet, it might be thunder; a storm might be +coming.</p> +<p>I wished that I was back in the hotel. I was sick, and it would +not do for me to get wet; this wagoner's tent was not the place for +a sick man in a storm.</p> +<p>But ... was there a hotel? The hotel was a dream--this was the +reality. I know nothing.</p> +<p>The doctor came. He looked at me, and smiled. I tried to smile +in return, for I liked him. "That's right," he said.</p> +<p>The doctor knelt by the pallet next to mine--that of the man who +had groaned. The man was not groaning now.</p> +<p>The doctor rose. I could see the sick man's face--white. The +doctor drew the sheet over the man's white face. The doctor went +out of the tent. A cold sweat was on me.</p> +<p>Some men came in--four men. Each man took the pallet by a +corner. They took the pallet out of the tent. They did not come +back.</p> +<p>Again I heard thunder. The sun was still shining. The heat was +great--great enough, I thought, to bring a storm even in October. I +had never before known it so warm.</p> +<p>Why should so many wagoners be sick at once? And why should I be +with them? I began to fear that I had been sick for a great many +days; I thought that I had been unconscious.</p> +<p>The doctor came in. A man was with him. The man had a book in +his hand--a book and a pencil.</p> +<p>Now I could see some gilt badges on the doctor's collar. On his +arms were some gilt stripes--and gilt stripes on the arms of the +other man also. These men must be officers, I thought, perhaps +officers of the Citadel battalion<a name="FNanchor5"></a><a href= +"#Footnote_5">[5]</a>. I wondered what I should be doing in their +world. Then again came the thought that I had been unconscious, and +for how long I did not know.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor5">[5]</a> +"The Citadel" is the Military Academy of South Carolina in +Charleston. [ED.]</blockquote> +<p>But, no; it can be nothing else than a dream!</p> +<p>The man with the book wrote something in it. Then he showed the +book to the doctor, and gave him the pencil. The doctor wrote in +the book, and gave the pencil and the book back to the man. The man +with the book went out of the tent.</p> +<p>The doctor came to me. He raised his right hand as high as his +shoulder. The first finger and the middle finger were stretched +out; the other fingers were closed. He was smiling. I looked at his +hand and at his face, and wondered.</p> +<p>He said, "Look! How many?"</p> +<p>I said, "Two."</p> +<p>He laughed aloud. "I thought so; we're getting on--we're doing +famously."</p> +<p>He sat down by me, on some sort of a stool--one of those folding +stools. He began to dress my head.</p> +<p>"Your name is Jones?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes," I replied, wondering, yet pleased with the sign of +good-will shown by his calling me by my first name.</p> +<p>"What edge are you?"</p> +<p>I was silent. I did not understand the question.</p> +<p>"What edge are you?" he repeated.</p> +<p>I was not so sure this time that I had heard aright. Possibly he +had used other words, but his speech sounded to me as if he said, +"What edge are you?"</p> +<p>I thought he was meaning to ask my age.</p> +<p>I replied, "Twenty-one." My voice was strange to me.</p> +<p>"You mean the twenty-first?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I am in my twenty-second," I said.</p> +<p>"The twenty-second what?" said he.</p> +<p>"Year," said I, greatly astonished.</p> +<p>He smiled, then suddenly became serious, and went away.</p> +<p>After a while he came back. "Do you know what I asked you?" he +inquired.</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"Then why did you say twenty-one and twenty-second?"</p> +<p>"That is my age," said I.</p> +<p>"Oh!" said he; "but I did not ask your age. You did not +hear?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"What is your reg-i-ment?" he asked very distinctly.</p> +<p>Now it was clear enough that all this thing was a dream. For a +man in real life to ask such a question, it was impossible. I felt +relieved of many fears.</p> +<p>"What are you smiling at?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I've been dreaming," I said.</p> +<p>"And your dream was pleasant?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"You smile then at unpleasant things?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"I don't understand you," said he.</p> +<p>"Neither do I," said I.</p> +<p>"What is your regiment?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Why do you ask such a question?"</p> +<p>"It is my duty. I have to make a report of your case. Give me an +answer," said he.</p> +<p>"I have no regiment," I said.</p> +<p>"Try to remember. Do you know that you have been +unconscious?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, you are better now; and you will soon be well, and I +shall have to send you back to your regiment."</p> +<p>"What do you mean by a regiment?" I asked.</p> +<p>At this he looked serious, and went away, but soon returned and +gave me a bitter draught.</p> +<p>I went into a doze. My mind wandered over many trifles. I was +neither asleep nor awake. My nose and face itched. But the pain in +my head was less violent.</p> +<p>After a while I was fully awake. The pain had returned. The +doctor was standing by me.</p> +<p>"Where do you live when you are at home?" he asked.</p> +<p>The question came with something like a shock. I did not know +how to reply. And it seemed no less strange to know that thus far I +had not thought of home, than to find that I did not know a +home,</p> +<p>"Where is your home?" he repeated.</p> +<p>"I do not remember," I said.</p> +<p>"Where were you yesterday?"</p> +<p>"I was at the hotel on the hill," I said.</p> +<p>He laughed in a peculiar way. Then he said, "You think you are +in South Carolina?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I replied.</p> +<p>"Are you not one of Gregg's men?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"You don't belong to Gregg's regiment?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"Nor to Gregg's brigade?"</p> +<p>"Soldiers, you mean?"</p> +<p>"Yes," he replied.</p> +<p>"Are there soldiers camped here?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Yes," he replied.</p> +<p>"I am not one of them," I said.</p> +<p>"Try to remember," he said, and went away.</p> +<p>The more I tried to remember, the more confused I was, and the +more did I suffer pain. I could see now that what I had taken for a +wagoners' camp was a soldiers' camp. But why there should be +soldiers here was too hard for me. This doctor with gilt stripes +must be a surgeon.</p> +<p>The doctor came again.</p> +<p>"How are you now, Jones?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Better, I trust," said I.</p> +<p>"You will be fit for duty in less than a week," he said.</p> +<p>"Fit for duty?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"What duty?"</p> +<p>"Do you mean to insist that you are not a soldier?"</p> +<p>"I am not a soldier," I said.</p> +<p>"Then why do you wear a uniform?"</p> +<p>"I have never been a soldier; I have never worn uniform; you are +taking me for another man."</p> +<p>"You have on the uniform now," said he.</p> +<p>He brought a coat and showed me the brass buttons on it.</p> +<p>"Your buttons are like mine--palmetto buttons."</p> +<p>"Palmetto buttons?" I repeated, wondering.</p> +<p>"Yes; you say you are in South Carolina?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I assented. "Is that my coat?"</p> +<p>"Yes. What district?"</p> +<p>"I don't know--yes, Barnwell."</p> +<p>"Who is your captain?"</p> +<p>"I have never had a captain." Then, by a great effort, I said, +"I don't understand at all this talk about soldiers and captains. +Do you belong to the Citadel battalion?"</p> +<p>"No," he said; "you mean the Charleston Citadel?</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Did you go to the Citadel?"</p> +<p>"No; I think not," said I.</p> +<p>"Why do you refer to the Citadel battalion?"</p> +<p>"They are soldiers," I replied.</p> +<p>"Did you ever hear of President Davis--Jeff Davis?"</p> +<p>"No," said I.</p> +<p>"You know something of Charleston?"</p> +<p>"I've been there, I think."</p> +<p>"When?"</p> +<p>"Well; not very long ago."</p> +<p>"How long? Try to think."</p> +<p>"I am greatly confused," I said. "I don't know whether I am +awake or dreaming."</p> +<p>"Ask me questions," said the doctor.</p> +<p>"Where am I?"</p> +<p>"In the field hospital."</p> +<p>"What am I here for? What is the field hospital? I did not know +there was a hospital here."</p> +<p>"Where do you think you are?"</p> +<p>"In Aiken," I said.</p> +<p>"Do you live in Aiken?"</p> +<p>"I don't know, Doctor. I suppose you are a doctor?"</p> +<p>"Yes, when I'm at home; here I am a surgeon. Ask me more +questions."</p> +<p>"Give me some water," said I.</p> +<p>He brought the water, and I drank.</p> +<p>"Am I not in Aiken?"</p> +<p>"You are not now in Aiken," said the doctor. "Try to remember +whether your home is in Aiken."</p> +<p>"No, I am staying here for a time," said I.</p> +<p>"Where is your home?"</p> +<p>"I do not know anything," said I, gloomily.</p> +<p>"Ask me more questions," said the doctor; "we must try to get +you out of this."</p> +<p>"Out of this what?"</p> +<p>"This condition. You have been hurt, and you cannot put things +together yet. It will come right after a little, if you don't get +irritable."</p> +<p>"I hope so," said I.</p> +<p>"Ask more questions," said he.</p> +<p>"How did I get here?"</p> +<p>"You were brought here unconscious, or almost so, by my +infirmary men."</p> +<p>"What men?"</p> +<p>"Infirmary men."</p> +<p>"What are they?"</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "they are my helpers."</p> +<p>"I knew something strange had happened. How did I get hurt?"</p> +<p>"Do you know how long you were in Aiken?"</p> +<p>"I came here yesterday, and expected to stay two or three days; +but from what you tell me I suppose I am not here now."</p> +<p>"Where were you before you went to Aiken?"</p> +<p>"I don't know."</p> +<p>"Were you not in Charleston?"</p> +<p>"I was in Charleston, but it might have been after I was in +Aiken."</p> +<p>His look became very serious at this--in truth, what I had said +was puzzling to myself.</p> +<p>"I think you belong to Gregg's brigade, very likely to Gregg's +regiment. I shall be obliged to leave you now, but you need +something first."</p> +<p>He gave me another bitter draught of I know not what, and went +out of the tent.</p> +<p>To say what I thought would be impossible. I thought everything +and nothing.</p> +<p>Again that thunder.</p> +<p>The best I had in this bewilderment was trust in the doctor. I +believed he would clear up this fog in my brain; for that my brain +was confused I could no longer doubt. The doctor was hopeful--that +was my comfort. He had given me medicine every time I felt worse; +he was certainly a good doctor. I felt soothed: perhaps the +medicine was helping me.</p> +<p>When I awoke, the sun was low. The doctor was by me.</p> +<p>"You have been talking in your sleep," he said.</p> +<p>"What did I say?" My brain now seemed a little clearer.</p> +<p>"Nothing of consequence. You mentioned the names of several +persons--you said something about Butler, and something also about +Brooks and Sumner."</p> +<p>"Was Brooks from Aiken?"</p> +<p>"What Brooks?"</p> +<p>"I don't remember," I said.</p> +<p>"I was sure that you belong to a South Carolina regiment," he +said.</p> +<p>"No, Doctor; I don't belong to any regiment, and I don't +understand your talk about regiments. Why should there be +regiments?"</p> +<p>"Do you see these men?" asked the doctor, pointing to the +pallets; "they have been wounded in battle."</p> +<p>I looked at him closely. He seemed sober and sane, although his +words were wild.</p> +<p>"We are at war," he continued. "Tell me," he added suddenly, +"tell me what day of the month this is."</p> +<p>"The nineteenth," said I.</p> +<p>"How do you know?"</p> +<p>"Because I read yesterday the Augusta <i>Constitutionalist</i> +of the eighteenth," said I.</p> +<p>"Now that's the kind of answer I like," said he; "your head is +getting well. Eighteenth of what?"</p> +<p>"October; I think this is very warm weather for October," said +I.</p> +<p>"It is indeed," said he.</p> +<p>"I suppose there was a storm somewhere," said I; "I heard +thunder."</p> +<p>"I did not hear any thunder," said he.</p> +<p>"Then maybe it was part of my dream," I said.</p> +<p>"What else did you dream?"</p> +<p>"I dreamed that I saw a dead man carried out of the tent."</p> +<p>"Can you trust me?" asked the doctor.</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"How old did you say you are?"</p> +<p>"Twenty-one."</p> +<p>"Do you know in what year you were born?"</p> +<p>"Yes; to be sure--thirty-eight."</p> +<p>"Thirty-eight and twenty-one make how much?"</p> +<p>"Fifty-nine," said I.</p> +<p>"I think I'd better give you some medicine," said he.</p> +<p>I took the draught. In a very short time I began to feel +strangely calm--in fact, almost stupid. The doctor sat by my +side.</p> +<p>"You can trust me?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You belong to a South Carolina regiment," he said.</p> +<p>I looked at him, and said nothing.</p> +<p>"I know just what you are thinking," said he, smiling; "you are +thinking that one of us two is crazy."</p> +<p>"Yes," said I.</p> +<p>"But you are wrong, at least in regard to yourself. You are +suffering a little in the head, but there is no longer any danger +to your brain at all."</p> +<p>"I think I am dreaming," said I.</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "continue to think so; that will do no +harm."</p> +<p>He went away, but soon returned--I say soon, but I may be wrong +in that.</p> +<p>"How do you get on with that dream of yours?" he asked; "what +have you dreamed while I wan gone?"</p> +<p>"Confusion," said I; "nothing but confusion."</p> +<p>"If a man is dreaming, will a sharp pain awake him?"</p> +<p>"I suppose so."</p> +<p>"Well, let me try it," and he opened his lancet.</p> +<p>I shrank, and he laughed.</p> +<p>"You are beginning to understand that many things have happened +since you were in Aiken?"</p> +<p>I made a motion of my head--moaning half assent.</p> +<p>"You will end by remembering your broken experience," he said, +"but it may take some time. Your case is more stubborn than I +thought."</p> +<p>"How did I get hurt?" I asked.</p> +<p>"You were knocked down," said he.</p> +<p>"Who did it?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Don't precisely know," said he; "but it makes no difference +which one did it; we all know that you were in the right."</p> +<p>"There was a quarrel?" I asked.</p> +<p>"A big one," said he; "I think it best to relieve your curiosity +at once by telling you what has happened in the world. If I did +not, you would make yourself worse by fancying too much, and you +would become more and more bewildered. I can put you right. But can +you make up your mind to accept the situation as it is, and bear up +in the hope that you will come right in the end?"</p> +<p>I did not reply. I do not know what feeling was uppermost in my +mind. It was not anxiety, for my interest in others was pure blank. +It was not fear, for he had assured me that my physical condition +was more favourable.</p> +<p>"Yes," he continued; "it is best to tell you the truth, and the +whole truth, lest your fancy conjure up things that do not exist. +After all, there is nothing in it but what you might have +reasonably expected when you were in Aiken in eighteen +fifty-nine."</p> +<p>"How long have I been in this condition?" I asked.</p> +<p>"This condition? Only since yesterday morning."</p> +<p>"Then why do you say eighteen fifty-nine?"</p> +<p>"Your present condition began yesterday; but it is also true--or +at least seems to be true--that you do not remember your experience +from October eighteen fifty-nine until yesterday."</p> +<p>"You mean for me to believe that eighteen fifty-nine has all +gone?"</p> +<p>"Yes--all gone--in fact, this is summer weather."</p> +<p>I remembered the heat of the past day, and the thunder. Yet it +was hard for me to believe that I had been unconscious for six +months--but, no; he was not saying I had been unconscious for six +months--nobody could live through such a state--he was telling me +that I could not remember what I had known six months ago.</p> +<p>"What month is this?" I asked.</p> +<p>"June," said he; "June 4th."</p> +<p>"From October to June is a long time," I said.</p> +<p>"Yes, and many things have happened since October eighteen +fifty-nine," said he.</p> +<p>"Doctor, are you serious?" I asked.</p> +<p>"On my honour," said he.</p> +<p>"And I have lost eight months of my life?"</p> +<p>"Oh, no; only the memory of the past, and that loss is but +temporary. You will get right after a while."</p> +<p>"And what have I been doing for the past eight months?"</p> +<p>"That is what I've been trying to find out," said he; "I am +trying now to find your regiment."</p> +<p>"There you go again about my regiment. Do you expect me to +accept that?"</p> +<p>"You said you could trust me," he replied; "why should I deceive +you? Tell me why you think I may be deceiving you."</p> +<p>"Because--" said I.</p> +<p>"Because what?"</p> +<p>"I fear that you are hiding a worse thing in order to do me +good."</p> +<p>"But I gave you my word of honour, and I give it again. These +hills around you are covered by an army."</p> +<p>"Where are we?" I asked, in wonder.</p> +<p>"We are near Richmond; within five miles of it."</p> +<p>"What Richmond?"</p> +<p>"In Virginia."</p> +<p>"And what brought <i>me</i> here? Why should I be here?"</p> +<p>"You came here voluntarily, while you were in good health, no +doubt, and while your mind acted perfectly."</p> +<p>"But why should I have come?"</p> +<p>"Because your regiment was ordered to come."</p> +<p>"And why should there be an army?"</p> +<p>"Because your country was invaded. You volunteered to defend +your country, and your regiment was ordered here."</p> +<p>"Country invaded? Volunteered?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Then we are at war?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"With England?"</p> +<p>"No; not with England, with the United States."</p> +<p>I laughed gayly, perhaps hysterically.</p> +<p>"Now I know that this is a dream," said I.</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"The idea of the United States being at war with itself!" I +laughed again.</p> +<p>"Take this," said he, and he gave me another potion. He waited a +few minutes for the medicine to affect me. Then he said, "Can you +remember how many states compose the United States?"</p> +<p>"Thirty-three, I believe," said I.</p> +<p>"There were thirty-three, I suppose, in eighteen fifty-nine," +said he; "but now there are not so many. Eleven of the states--the +most of the Southern states--have seceded and have set up a +government of their own. We call ourselves the Confederate States +of America. Our capital is Richmond. The Northern states are at war +with us, trying to force us back into the Union, as they call it. +War has been going on for more than a year."</p> +<p>"What!"</p> +<p>"Yes," said he; "all these great events required more than eight +months."</p> +<p>"More than a year!" I exclaimed; "what year is this?"</p> +<p>"Here is my record," said he; "here is yesterday's record."</p> +<p>He opened it at a page opposite which was a blank page. The +written page was headed June 3,1862. Below the heading were written +some eight or ten names,--Private Such-a-one, of Company A or B, +such a regiment; Corporal Somebody of another regiment, and so on. +Upon one line there was nothing written except <i>B. Jones</i>.</p> +<p>Then the doctor brought me a newspaper, and showed me the date. +The paper was the Richmond <i>Examiner</i>; the date, Wednesday, +June 4, 1862.</p> +<p>"This is to-day's paper," said the doctor.</p> +<p>I laughed.</p> +<p>He continued: "Yes, war has been going on for more than a year. +The great effort of the United States army is to take Richmond, and +the Confederates have an army here to defend Richmond. Here," he +added, "I will show you."</p> +<p>He went to the door of the tent and held back the canvas on both +sides.</p> +<p>"Look!"</p> +<p>I looked with all my eyes. My vision was limited to a narrow +latitude. I could see tents, their numbers increasing as +perspective broadened the view. I could see many men passing to and +fro.</p> +<p>"You see a little of it," said he; "the lines extend for +miles."</p> +<p>I did not laugh. My hands for the first time went up to my face; +I wanted to hide my eyes from a mental flash too dazzling and too +false; at once my hands fell back.</p> +<p>I had found a beard on my face, where there had been none +before.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXI"></a>XXI</h2> +<h3>ONE MORE CONFEDERATE</h3> +<center>"Thy mind and body are alike unfit<br> +To trust each other, for some hours, at least;<br> +When thou art better, I will be thy guide--<br> + But whither?"--BYRON.</center> +<br> +<p>I awoke from an uneasy sleep, superinduced, I thought, by the +surgeon's repeated potions. My head was light and giddy, but the +pain had almost gone. My stomach was craving food.</p> +<p>It was night. Candles were burning on a low table in the middle +of the tent. The pallets, other than mine, had disappeared; my +dream had changed; the tent seemed larger.</p> +<p>The doctor and two strange men were sitting by the table. I had +heard them talking before I opened my eyes.</p> +<p>"I should like to have him, Frank."</p> +<p>Then the doctor's voice said: "I have made inquiry of every +adjutant in the brigade, and no such man seems to be missing. But +he knows that he is from South Carolina--in fact, his buttons are +sufficient proof of that. Then the diary found in his pocket shows +the movements of no other brigade than Gregg's. Take him into your +company, Captain."</p> +<p>"Can I do that without some authority?"</p> +<p>"You can receive him temporarily; when he is known, he will be +called for, and you can return him to his company."</p> +<p>"What do you think of it, Aleck?"</p> +<p>"I think it would be irregular, or perhaps I should say +exceptional," said another voice; "the regulations cannot provide +for miraculous contingencies."</p> +<p>"The whole thing's irregular," said the doctor; "it's impossible +to make it regular until his company is found. What else can you +suggest?"</p> +<p>"I don't know. Can't we wait?"</p> +<p>"Wait for what?"</p> +<p>"Wait till we find his people."</p> +<p>"He'll be fit for duty in two days. What'll we do with, him +then?--turn him loose? He wouldn't know what to do with himself. I +tell you we can't find his regiment, or, at least, we haven't found +it, and that he is fit for duty, or will be in a few days; he is +not a fit subject for the general hospital, and I wouldn't risk +sending him there; Powell would wonder at me."</p> +<p>"Can't you keep him a while longer?"</p> +<p>"I can keep him a few days only; I tell you there is nothing the +matter with him. If I discharge him, what will he do? He ought to +be attached--he must be attached, else he cannot even get food. It +will all necessarily end in his being forced into the ranks of +<i>some</i> company, and I want to see him placed right."</p> +<p>"I will not object to taking him if I can get him properly."</p> +<p>"Somebody'll get him. Besides, we can't let him leave us before +he has a place to go to. I think I have the right, in this +miraculous contingency, as Aleck calls it, to hand him over to you, +at least temporarily. Of course you can't keep him always. Sooner +or later we'll hear of some regiment that is seeking such a man. +His memory will return to him, so that he'll know where he +belongs."</p> +<p>"Yes--I suppose so. I am willing to receive him. When his +company is found, of course I shall be compelled to let him +go."</p> +<p>"If provision is not made for him, he must suffer. I shall fear +for him unless we can settle him in some way such as I propose. Am +I not right, Aleck?"</p> +<p>"Can't you keep him with you as some sort of help?"</p> +<p>"I would not propose such a thing to him. There could be +nothing here for him except a servant's place. He is my man, and +I'm going to treat him better than that. By the way, I believe he +is awake."</p> +<p>My eyes were wide open. The doctor turned to me and said, "How +do you feel now, Jones?"</p> +<p>"Am I here yet?" I muttered.</p> +<p>"Yes. Did you expect to be in two places at once?"</p> +<p>"Where are the others?"</p> +<p>"What others?"</p> +<p>"The five men."</p> +<p>"What five men?"</p> +<p>"The five men on the pallets."</p> +<p>"Oh!--been sent to the general hospital."</p> +<p>"Yes," said I, mournfully; "everything that comes goes +again."</p> +<p>"Sound philosophy," said he; "you are getting strong and well. +Don't bother your head about what happened last century or last +year."</p> +<p>He went to the door and called William.</p> +<p>The negro man came. "Some soup," said the doctor.</p> +<p>The soup was good. I felt better--almost strong. The doctor's +friends sat by, saying nothing. The doctor smiled to see me take +the soup somewhat greedily.</p> +<p>"Talk to him, Captain," said the doctor.</p> +<p>"My friend," said one of the men, "allow me to ask if you know +where you are."</p> +<p>"I know what I've been told," said I.</p> +<p>"You must be good enough to believe it," said he; "you believe +it or you doubt it. Do you still doubt it?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I said boldly.</p> +<p>"I can't blame you," said he. His voice was low and firm--a +gentleman's voice; a voice to inspire confidence; a voice which I +thought, vaguely, I had heard before.</p> +<p>"Yet," he continued, "to doubt it you must be making some theory +of your own; what is it, please?"</p> +<p>He spoke with a slight lisp. I noticed it, and felt pleased that +I had got to a stage in which, such a trifle was of any +interest.</p> +<p>"The only possible theories are that I am dreaming and--"</p> +<p>"Be good enough to tell me another."</p> +<p>He had not interrupted me; I had hesitated.</p> +<p>"I know!" exclaimed the doctor; "he thinks I am concealing worse +by inventing a war with all its <i>et ceteras</i>. His supposition +does me credit in one way, but in another it does me great injury. +Although I have given him my word of honour that I am concealing +nothing, he still hangs to his notion that I am lying to him in +order to keep from him a truth that might be dangerous to his +health. I shall be compelled to call him out when he gets well. +Will you act for me, Aleck?"</p> +<p>"With great pleasure," said the man addressed; "but perhaps your +friend will make the <i>amende</i> when he knows the injustice of +his suspicions."</p> +<p>"Have I told either of you what I have said to Jones about the +war?" asked the doctor.</p> +<p>"Certainly not; so far as I have the right to speak," said the +Captain. The other man shook his head.</p> +<p>"Then tell Jones the conditions here."</p> +<p>"Oh, Doctor, don't be so hard on me! I accept all you say, +although it is accepting impossibilities."</p> +<p>"Then, about your dream theory," said the Captain; "would you +object to my asking if you have ever had such a dream--so vivid and +so long?"</p> +<p>"Not that I know of," said I.</p> +<p>"You think that Dr. Frost and my brother and I are mere +creatures of your fancy?"</p> +<p>The candles did not give a great light. I could not clearly see +his features. He came nearer, moving his stool to my side. My head +was below him, so that I was looking up at his face. He was a young +man. His face was almost a triangle, with its long jaw.</p> +<p>"I believe that dreams are not very well understood, even by the +wisest," he said. "Do me the kindness to confess that your present +experience, if a dream, is more wonderful than any other dream you +have had."</p> +<p>Though my head was dizzy, I thought I could detect a slight +tinge of irony in this excessively polite speech.</p> +<p>"I think it must be," I replied; "although I cannot remember any +other dream."</p> +<p>"Then, might not one say that the only dream you are conscious +of is not a dream?"</p> +<p>"That contradicts itself," said I.</p> +<p>"And you find yourself unable to accept the word of three men +that you are not dreaming?"</p> +<p>"Not if they are men of my dream," said I.</p> +<p>"A good retort, sir," he said. "Do me the kindness to tell me +your notion of a dream. Do you think it should be consistent +throughout, or should there be strong intrinsic proof of its own +unrealness?"</p> +<p>"Captain," I said, "I cannot tell. I know nothing. I doubt my +own existence."</p> +<p>"Pardon me," said he; "you know the test--you think, therefore +you exist. Are you not sure that you think?"</p> +<p>"I think, or I dream that I think."</p> +<p>"Well said, sir; an excellent reasoner while dreaming. But +suppose you dream on; what will be the result?"</p> +<p>"Dream and sleep till I awake," said I.</p> +<p>"May I ask where you will awake?"</p> +<p>"In Aiken."</p> +<p>"I know a little of Aiken," said the Captain; "I was there not a +year ago."</p> +<p>Naturally the remark was of interest to me.</p> +<p>"When was it?" I asked.</p> +<p>"It was in August, of last year. You remember, Frank, I was +recruiting for the reorganized First."</p> +<p>"August of what year?" I asked.</p> +<p>"August eighteen sixty-one, very naturally."</p> +<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "bear with me, I beg you. I am not myself. +I am going through deep waters, I know nothing."</p> +<p>"We know," said the doctor; "and we are going to see you +through." Then he added: "Captain Haskell came from Abbeville. He +has men in his company from several of the districts; possibly some +of them would know you, and you might know them."</p> +<p>I did not want to know them. I said nothing. The doctor's +suggestion was not to my liking. Why should I join these men? What, +to me, was this captain? What was I to him? So far as I know, I had +no interest in this war. So far as I could know myself, my tastes +did not seem to set strongly in the direction of soldiering. Those +men could get along without my help. Why could I not find a +different occupation? Anything would be better than getting killed +in a cause I did not understand. Then, too, I was threatened with +the wretched condition of an object of common curiosity. If I was +going to be gazed at by this officer and his men,--if I was to be +regarded as a freak,--my way certainly did not lie with theirs.</p> +<p>"Frank," said the Captain's brother, "would it hurt Jones to go +out of the tent for a moment?"</p> +<p>"Not at all," said the doctor; "a good suggestion."</p> +<p>"Why should I go out?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Only to look about you," he replied.</p> +<p>The doctor helped me to my feet. I was surprised to find myself +so strong. Dr. Frost took my arm; all of us went out.</p> +<p>I looked around. Near us but little could be seen--only a few +fires on the ground. But far off--a mile or so, I don't know--the +whole world was shining with fires; long lines of them to the right +and the left.</p> +<p>We returned into the tent. Not a word had been spoken.</p> +<p>Captain Haskell now said to me: "Pardon me for now leaving you. +Command me, if I can be of any help; I trust you will not think me +too bold in advising you to make no hasty decision which you might +regret afterward; good-by."</p> +<p>"Good-by, Captain," I replied; "I must trust the doctor."</p> +<p>The Captain's brother lingered. Dr. Frost was busy with him for +a while, over some writing; I inferred that the surgeon was making +a report. When this matter was ended the doctor said to me, "This +officer also is a Captain Haskell; he is assistant adjutant-general +of Gregg's brigade, and is a brother of Captain William +Haskell."</p> +<p>The adjutant now came nearer and sat by me. "Yes," said he; "but +I was in my brother's company at first. We all shall be glad to +help you if we can."</p> +<p>"Captain," said I, "your goodness touches me keenly. I admire it +the more because I know that I am nothing to you gentlemen."</p> +<p>"Why," said he, "your case is a very interesting one, especially +to Dr. Frost, and we are all good friends; the doctor was in +Company H himself--was its first orderly sergeant. Frank called our +attention to your case in order that we might try to help you, and +we should be glad to help."</p> +<p>"Jones," said Dr. Frost, "it is this way: The army may move any +day or any hour. You cannot be sent to the general hospital, +because you are almost well. Something must be done with you. What +would you have us do?"</p> +<p>"I have no plans," said I; "it would be impossible for me to +have any plan. But I think it would be wrong for me to commit +myself to something I do not understand. You seem to suggest that I +enlist as a soldier. I feel no desire to go to war, or to serve as +a soldier in any way. Possibly I should think differently if I knew +anything about the war and its causes."</p> +<p>"You are already a Confederate soldier," said Dr. Frost. "I +think, Frank," said Adjutant Haskell, "that if the causes of the +war were explained to your friend, he would be better prepared to +agree to your wishes. Suppose you take time to-morrow and give him +light; I know he must be full of curiosity."</p> +<p>"Right!" said the doctor; "I'll do it. Let him know what is +going on. Then he'll see that we are right. He'd have it to do, +though, in the end."</p> +<p>"Yes; but let him understand fully; then he'll be more cheerful; +at any rate, it can do no harm."</p> +<p>"But why should I be compelled to serve?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you seem determined not to believe that +you are already a soldier," said the doctor.</p> +<p>"If I am a soldier, I belong somewhere," said I.</p> +<p>"Of course you do," said Adjutant Haskell; "and all that we +propose is to give you a home until you find where you belong; and +the place we propose for you is undoubtedly the best place we know +of. Company H is a fine body of men; since I am no longer in it I +may say that they are picked men; the most of them are gentlemen. +Let me mention some good old Carolina names--you will remember +them, I think. Did you never hear the name of Barnwell?"</p> +<p>"Yes, of course," I said; "I've been to Barnwell Court-House. I +believe this place--I mean Aiken--is in Barnwell district."</p> +<p>"Well, John G. Barnwell is the first lieutenant in Company H. Do +you know of the Rhetts?"</p> +<p>"Yes, the name is familiar as that of a prominent family."</p> +<p>"Grimké Rhett is a lieutenant in Company H. Then there +are the Seabrooks and the Hutsons, and Mackay, and the +Bellots<a name="FNanchor6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6">[6]</a>, and +Stewart, and Bee, and Fraser Miller, and many more who represent +good old families. You would speedily feel at home."</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor6">[6]</a> +The Bellots were of a French Huguenot family, which settled in +Abbeville, S.C. (in 1765?). The name gradually came to be +pronounced <i>Bellotte</i>. [ED.]</blockquote> +<p>"Gentlemen," said I, "how I ever became a soldier I do not know. +I am a soldier in a cause that I do not understand."</p> +<p>"And you have done many other things that you could not now +understand if you were told of them," said the doctor.</p> +<p>"But, Jones," said the adjutant, "a man who has already been +wounded in the service of his country ought to be proud of it!"</p> +<p>"What do you mean, Captain?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Hold on!" said Dr. Frost. "Well, I suppose there is no harm +done. Tell him how he was hurt, Aleck."</p> +<p>"How did you suppose you received your hurt?" asked the +adjutant.</p> +<p>"I was told by Dr. Frost that somebody knocked me down," said I, +with nervous curiosity.</p> +<p>"Yes, that's so; somebody did knock you down," said the +doctor.</p> +<p>"You were struck senseless by a bursting shell thrown by the +enemy's cannon," said the adjutant, "and yet you refuse to admit +that you are a soldier!"</p> +<p>To say that I was speechless would be weak. I stared back at the +two men.</p> +<p>"You have on the uniform; you are armed; you are in the ranks; +you are under fire from the enemy's batteries, where death may +come, and does come; you are wounded; you are brought to your +hospital for treatment. And yet you doubt that you are a soldier! +You must be merely dreaming that you doubt!"</p> +<p>While speaking Adjutant Haskell had risen, a sign that he was +getting angry, I feared; but no, he was going to leave. "Jones, +good-by," he said; "hold on to that strong will of yours, but don't +let it fall into obstinacy."</p> +<p>The doctor came nearer. "You are stronger than you thought," +said he.</p> +<p>"Yes, I am. I was surprised."</p> +<p>"You remind me of horses I have seen fall between the shafts; +they lie there and seem to fancy that they have no strength at all. +I suppose they think that they are dreaming."</p> +<p>At this speech. I laughed aloud--why, I hardly know, unless it +was that my own mind recalled one such ludicrous incident; then, +too, it was pleasant to hear the doctor say that I was strong.</p> +<p>"Yes, Jones; all you need is a little more time. Two or three +days will set you up."</p> +<p>"Doctor, I cannot understand it at all; this talk about armies, +and war, and wounds, and adjutants--what does it all mean?"</p> +<p>"You must not try to know everything at once. I think you are +now convinced that there is a war?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"You will learn all about it very soon, perhaps to-morrow; it +ought to be enough for you to know that your country is in danger. +Are you a patriot?"</p> +<p>"I trust so."</p> +<p>"Well, of course you are. Now you must go to sleep. You have +talked long enough. Good night. I will send William to give you a +night-cap."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The next morning Dr. Frost expressed great satisfaction with my +progress, and began, almost as soon as I had eaten, to gratify my +curiosity.</p> +<p>"I believe that you confess to the charge of being a patriot," +said he.</p> +<p>"I trust I am," said I.</p> +<p>"We are invaded. Our homes are destroyed. Our women are +insulted. Our men are slain. The enemy is before our capital and +hopes to conquer. Can you hesitate?"</p> +<p>"I should not hesitate if I understood as you understand. But +how can you expect me to kill men when I know nothing of the merits +of the cause for which I am told to fight?"</p> +<p>"Jones, so far as I am concerned, and so far as the government +is concerned, your question is hardly pertinent. You are already a +Confederate soldier by your own free act. Your only chance to keep +from serving is to get yourself killed, or at least disabled; I +will not suggest desertion. For your sake, however, I am ready to +answer any question you may ask about the causes of the war. You +ought to have your mind satisfied, if it be possible."</p> +<p>"What are they fighting about?"</p> +<p>"Do you recall the manner in which the United States came into +existence?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I think so," said I.</p> +<p>"Tell me."</p> +<p>"The colonies rebelled against Great Britain and won their +independence in war," said I.</p> +<p>"Well; what then?"</p> +<p>"The colonies sent delegates to a convention, and the delegates +framed a constitution."</p> +<p>"Well; what then?"</p> +<p>"The colonies agreed to abide by the constitution."</p> +<p>"That is to say, the Colonies, or States, ratified the action of +the constitutional convention?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Yes; that is what I mean," said I.</p> +<p>"Then do you think the States created the general government? +Think a little before you answer."</p> +<p>"Why should I think? It seems plain enough."</p> +<p>"Yet I will present an alternative. Did the States create the +Federal government, or did the people of the whole United States, +acting as a body-politic, create it?"</p> +<p>"Your alternative seems contradictory," said I.</p> +<p>"In what respect?"</p> +<p>"It makes the United States exist before the United States came +into existence," said I.</p> +<p>"Then what would your answer be?"</p> +<p>"The people of each colony, or each State rather, sent +delegates. The delegates, representing the respective States, +framed the constitution. The people, if I mistake not, ratified the +constitution, each State voting separately. Therefore I think that +the United States government is a creature of the States and not of +the people as a body-politic; for there could have been no such +body-politic."</p> +<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, you are a constitutional lawyer; you +ought never to have entered military service."</p> +<p>"Besides," said I, "Rhode Island and North Carolina refused for +a time to enter into the agreement."</p> +<p>"And suppose they had refused finally. Would, the other States +have compelled them to come in?" he asked.</p> +<p>"I cannot say as to that," said I.</p> +<p>"Do you think they would have had the moral right to coerce +them?"</p> +<p>"The question is too hard for me to answer, Doctor; I cannot +very well see what ought to have been done."</p> +<p>"The two States would have had some rights?"</p> +<p>"Certainly."</p> +<p>"What rights would the United States have had over the two +States?"</p> +<p>"I do not think the Federal government would have had any; but +the people would have had some claim--what, I cannot say. I do not +think that Rhode Island had the moral right to endanger the new +republic by refusing to enter it. But there may have been something +peculiar in Rhode Island's situation; I do not remember. I should +say that the question should have been settled by compromise. Rhode +Island's objections should have been considered and removed. A +forced agreement would be no agreement."</p> +<p>"When the States formed the government, did they surrender all +their rights?"</p> +<p>"I think not."</p> +<p>"What rights did they retain?"</p> +<p>"They retained everything they did not surrender."</p> +<p>"Well, then, what did they surrender? Did they become provinces? +Did they surrender the right of resistance to usurpation?"</p> +<p>"I think not."</p> +<p>"Would you think that the States had formed a partnership for +the general good of all?"</p> +<p>"Of course, Doctor; but I am not quite sure that the word +'partnership' is the correct term."</p> +<p>"Shall we call it a league? A compact? A federation? A +confederacy?"</p> +<p>"I should prefer the word 'union' to any of those," I said. "The +title of the republic means a union."</p> +<p>"What is the difference between a union and a confederacy?"</p> +<p>"I don't know that there is any great difference; but the word +'union' seems to me to imply greater permanence."</p> +<p>"You think, then, that the United States must exist always?"</p> +<p>"I think that our fathers believed that they were acting for all +time--so far as they could," said I; "but, of course, there were +differences, even among the framers of the constitution."</p> +<p>"Suppose that at some time a State or several States should +believe that their interests were being destroyed and that +injustice was being done."</p> +<p>"The several branches of government should prevent that," said +I.</p> +<p>"But suppose they knew that all the branches of the government +were united in perpetrating this injustice."</p> +<p>"Then I do not know what such States ought to do," said I.</p> +<p>"Suppose Congress was against them; that the majority in +Congress had been elected by their opponents; that the President +and the judges were all against them."</p> +<p>"The will of the majority should rule," said I.</p> +<p>"Even in cases where not only life and liberty but honour itself +must be given up or defended?"</p> +<p>"Then I don't know what they ought to do," I repeated.</p> +<p>"Ought they to endure tamely?"</p> +<p>"No; but what their recourse would be I cannot justly see; it +seems that the constitution should have provided some remedy."</p> +<p>"You believe in the right to revolt against tyranny?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Well, suppose your State and other States, her neighbours, +should conclude that there was no remedy against injustice except +in withdrawing from the partnership, or union."</p> +<p>"I should say that would be a very serious step to take, perhaps +a dangerous step, perhaps a wrong step," said I. "But I am no judge +of such things. It seems to me that my mind is almost blank +concerning politics."</p> +<p>"Yes? Well, suppose, however, that your State should take that +step, in the hope that she would be allowed to withdraw in peace; +would her citizens be bound by her action?"</p> +<p>"Of course. South Carolina, you say, has withdrawn; that being +the case, every citizen of the State is bound by her act, as long +as he remains a citizen."</p> +<p>"South Carolina has withdrawn, but her hope for a peaceable +withdrawal is met by United States armies trying to force her back +into the Union. Under these circumstances, what is the duty of a +citizen of South Carolina?"</p> +<p>"I should say that so long as he remains a citizen of the State, +he must obey the State. He must obey the State, or get out of +it."</p> +<p>"And if he gets out of it, must he join the armies that are +invading his State and killing his neighbours and kinsmen?"</p> +<p>"I think no man would do that."</p> +<p>"But every one who leaves his State goes over to the enemies of +his State, at least in a measure, for he deprives his State of his +help, and influences others to do as he has done. Do you think that +South Carolina should allow any of her citizens to leave her in +this crisis?"</p> +<p>"No; that would be suicidal. Every one unwilling to bear arms +would thus be allowed to go."</p> +<p>"And a premium would be put upon desertion?"</p> +<p>"In a certain sense--yes."</p> +<p>"Can a State's duty conflict with the duty of her citizens?"</p> +<p>"That is a hard question, Doctor; if I should be compelled to +reply, I should say no."</p> +<p>"Then if it is South Carolina's duty to call you into military +service, is it not your duty to serve?"</p> +<p>"Yes; but have you shown that it is her duty to make me +serve?"</p> +<p>"That brings up the question whether it is a citizen's duty to +serve his country in a wrong cause, and you have already said that +a man should obey her laws or else renounce his citizenship."</p> +<p>"Yes, Doctor, that seems the only alternative."</p> +<p>"Then you are going to serve again, or get out of the +country?"</p> +<p>"You are putting it very strongly, Doctor; can there be no +exception to rules?"</p> +<p>"The only exception to the rule is that the alternative does not +exist in time of war. The Confederate States have called into +military service all males between eighteen and forty-five. You +could not leave the country--excuse me for saying it; I speak in an +impersonal sense--even if you should wish to leave it. Every man is +held subject to military service; as you have already said, the +State would commit suicide if she renounced the population from +which she gets her soldiers. But, in any case, what would you do if +you were not forced into service?"</p> +<p>"I am helpless," I said gloomily.</p> +<p>"No; I don't want you to look at it in that way; you are not +helpless. What I have already suggested will relieve you. We can +attach, you to any company that you may choose, with the condition +that as soon as your friends are found you are to be handed over to +them--I mean, of course, handed over to your original company. It +seems to me that such a course is not merely the best thing to do, +but the only thing to do."</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I, "you and your friends are placing me under +very heavy obligations. You have done much yourself, and your +friends show me kindness. Perhaps I could do no better than to ask +you to act for me. I know the delicacy of your offer. Another man +might have refused to discuss or explain; he had the power to +simply order me back into the ranks."</p> +<p>"No," said he; "I am not so sure that any such power could have +been exercised. To order you back into the ranks is not a surgeon's +duty to his patient. There seems to be nothing whatever in the army +regulations applying to such a case as yours. You have been kept +here without authority, except the general authority which empowers +the surgeon to help the wounded. But I have no control over you +whatever. If you choose, nobody would prevent you from leaving this +hospital. I cannot make a report of your case on any form furnished +me. It was this difficulty, in your case, that made me beg the +brigade adjutant to visit you; while the matter is irregular, it +is, however, known at brigade headquarters, so that it is in as +good a shape as we know how to put it. I cannot order you back into +the ranks; you would not know what to do with yourself; what I +suggest will relieve you from any danger hereafter of being +supposed a deserter; we keep trace of you and can prove that you +are still in the service and are obeying authority."</p> +<p>"That settles it!" I exclaimed; "I had not thought of the +possibility of being charged with desertion."</p> +<p>"To tell you the truth, no more had I until this moment. We must +get authority from General Hill in this matter, in order to protect +you fully. At this very minute no doubt your orderly-sergeant and +the adjutant of your regiment are reporting you absent without +leave. I must quit you for a while."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>What had seemed strangest to me was the lack of desire, on my +part, to find my company. I had tried, from the first moment of the +proposition to join Company H, to analyze this reluctance in regard +to my original company, and had at last confessed to myself that it +was due to exaggerated sensitiveness. Who were the men of my +company? should I recognize them? No; they would know me, but I +should not know them. This thought had been strong in holding me +back from yielding to the doctor's views; I had an almost morbid +dread of being considered a curiosity. So, I did not want to go +back to my company; and as for going into Captain Haskell's +company, I considered that project but a temporary expedient--my +people would soon be found and I should be forced back where I +belonged and be pointed out forever as a freak. So I wanted to keep +out of Company H and out of every other company; I wanted to go +away--to do something--anything--no matter what, if it would only +keep me from being advertised and gazed upon.</p> +<p>Such had been my thoughts; but now, when Dr. Frost had brought +before me the probability of my being already reported absent +without leave, and the consequent possibility of being charged with +desertion, I decided at once that I should go with Captain Haskell. +Whatever I might once have been, and whatever I might yet become, I +was not and never should be a deserter.</p> +<p>When I next saw Dr. Frost I asked him when I should be strong +enough for duty.</p> +<p>"You are fit for duty now," said he; "that is, you are strong +enough to march in case the army should move. I do not intend, +however, to let you go at once, unless there should be a movement; +in that case I could not well keep you any longer."</p> +<p>I replied that if I was strong enough to do duty, I did not wish +to delay. To this he responded that he would ask Captain Haskell to +enroll me in his company at once, but to consider me on the sick +list for a few days, in order that I might accustom myself +gradually to new conditions.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXII"></a>XXII</h2> +<h3>COMPANY H</h3> +<center> + +"In strange eyes<br> +Have made me not a stranger; to the mind<br> +Which is itself, no changes bring surprise;<br> +Nor is it hard to make, nor hard to find<br> +A country with--ay, or without mankind."--BYRON.</center> +<br> +<p>In the afternoon of the day in which occurred the conversation +recounted above, I was advised by the doctor to take a short +walk.</p> +<p>From a hill just in rear of the hospital tents I could see +northward and toward the east long lines of earthworks with tents +and cannon, and rows of stacked muskets and all the appliances of +war. The sight was new and strange. I had never before seen at one +time more than a battalion of soldiers; now here was an army into +which I had been suddenly thrust as a part of it, without +experience of any sort and without knowledge of anybody in it +except two or three persons whom, three days before, I had never +heard of. The worthiness of the cause for which this great army had +been created to fight, was not entirely clear to me; it is true +that I appreciated the fact that in former days, before my +misfortune had deprived me of data upon which to reason, I had +decided my duty as to that cause; yet it now appealed to me so +little, that I was conscious of struggling to rise above +indifference. I reproached myself for lack of patriotism. I had +read the morning's <i>Dispatch</i> and had been shocked at the +relation of some harrowing details of pillage and barbarity on the +part of the Yankees; yet I felt nothing of individual anger against +the wretches when I condemned such conduct, and my judgment told me +that my passionless indignation ought to be hot. But this +peculiarity seemed so unimportant in comparison with the greater +one which marked me, that it gave me no concern.</p> +<p>In an open space near by, many soldiers were drilling. The drum +and the fife could be heard in all directions. Wagons were coming +and going. A line of unarmed men, a thousand, I guessed, marched +by, going somewhere. They had no uniform; I supposed they were +recruits. A group of mounted men attracted me; I had little doubt +that here was some general with his staff. Flags were +everywhere--red flags, with diagonal crosses marked by stars.</p> +<p>A man came toward me. His clothing was somewhat like my own. I +started to go away, but he spoke up, "Hold on, my friend!"</p> +<p>He was of low stature,--a thick-set man, brown bearded.</p> +<p>When he was nearer, he asked, "Do you know where Gregg's brigade +is?"</p> +<p>"No; I do not," said I; "but you can find out down there at the +hospital tents, I suppose."</p> +<p>"I was told that the brigade is on the line somewhere about +here," said he.</p> +<p>"I will go with you to the tent," said I.</p> +<p>"I belong to the First," he said, "I've been absent for some +days on duty, and am just getting back to my company. Who is in +charge of the hospital?"</p> +<p>"Dr. Frost," said I.</p> +<p>"Oh, Frank?" said he; "I'll call on him, then. He was our +orderly-sergeant."</p> +<p>By this speech I knew that he was one of Captain Haskell's men, +and I looked at him more closely; he had a very pleasant face. I +wanted to ask him about Company H, but feared to say anything, lest +he should afterward, when I joined the company, recognize me and be +curious. However, I knew that my face, bound up as my head was, +would hardly become familiar to him in a short time, and I risked +saying that I understood that Dr. Frost had been orderly-sergeant +in some company or other.</p> +<p>"Yes; Company H," said he.</p> +<p>"That must be a good company, as it turns out surgeons."</p> +<p>"Yes, and it turns out adjutants and adjutant-generals," said +he.</p> +<p>"You like your company?"</p> +<p>"Yes, and I like its captain. I suppose every man likes his own +company; I should hate to be in any other. Have you been sick?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said I; "my head received an injury, but I am better +now."</p> +<p>"You couldn't be under better care," said he.</p> +<p>When we had reached the tent, Dr. Frost was not to be seen.</p> +<p>"I'll wait and see him," said the man; "he is not far off, I +reckon, and I know that the brigade must be close by. What regiment +do you belong to?"</p> +<p>The question was torture. What I should have said I do not know; +to my intense relief, and before the man had seen my hesitation, he +cried, "There he is now," and went up to the doctor; they shook +hands. I besought the doctor, with a look, not to betray me; he +understood, and nodded.</p> +<p>The man, whom Dr. Frost had called Bellot, asked, "Where is the +regiment?"</p> +<p>"Three-quarters of a mile northwest," said the doctor, and +Bellot soon went off.</p> +<p>"I'm a little sorry that he saw you," said the doctor; "for you +and he are going to be good friends. If he remembers meeting you +here to-day, he may be curious when he sees you in Company H; but +we'll hope for the best."</p> +<p>"I hope to be very greatly changed in appearance before he sees +me again," said I, looking down on my garments, which were very +ragged, and seemed to have been soaked in muddy water, and thinking +of my strange unshaven face and bandaged head; "I must become +indebted to you for something besides your professional skill, +Doctor."</p> +<p>"With great pleasure, Jones; you shall have everything you want, +if I can get it for you. I've seen Captain Haskell; he says that he +will not come again, but he bids you be easy; he will make your +first service as light as possible and will ... wait! I wonder if +you have forgotten your drill!"</p> +<p>"I know nothing about military drill," I said, "and never did +know anything about it."</p> +<p>"You will be convinced, shortly, that you did," said he; "you +may have lost it mentally, but your muscles haven't forgotten. In +three days under old John Wilson, I'll bet you are ready for every +manoeuvre. Just get you started on 'Load in nine times load,' and +you'll do eight of 'em without reflection."</p> +<p>"If I do, I shall be willing to confess to anything," said +I.</p> +<p>"Here, now; stand there--so! Now--<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p> +<p>I did not budge, but stood stiff.</p> +<p>"When I say 'Right--Face,' you do <i>so</i>," said he.</p> +<p>"<i>Right</i>--FACE!"</p> +<p>I imitated the surgeon.</p> +<p>"FRONT!--that's right--<i>Left</i>--FACE! That's +good--FRONT!--all right; now +again--<i>Right</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>Left</i>--FACE!--FRONT!--<i>About</i>--put +your right heel so--FACE! Ah! you've lost that; well, never mind; +it will all come back. I tell you what, I've drilled old Company H +many a day."</p> +<p>I really began to believe that Surgeon Frost had an affection +for me, though, of course, his affection was based on a sense of +proprietorship acquired through discovery, so to speak.</p> +<p>After supper he said: "You are strong enough to go with me to +Company H. W'ell drive over in an ambulance."</p> +<p>From points on the road we saw long lines of camp-fires. On the +crest of a hill, the doctor pointed to the east, where the clouds +were aglow with light. "McClellan's army," said he.</p> +<p>"Whose army?" I asked.</p> +<p>"McClellan's; the Yankee army under McClellan."</p> +<p>"Oh, yes! I read the name in the paper to-day," said I.</p> +<p>"He has a hundred and fifty thousand men," said he.</p> +<p>"And their camp-fires make all that light?"</p> +<p>"Yes--and I suppose ours look that way to them."</p> +<p>Captain Haskell's company was without shelter, except such, as +the men had improvised, as the doctor said; here and there could be +seen a blanket or piece of canvas stretched on a pole, and, +underneath, a bed of straw large enough for a man. Brush arbours +abounded. The Captain himself had no tent; we found him sitting +with his back to a tree near which was his little fly stretched +over his sleeping-place. Several officers were around him. He shook +the doctor's hand, but said nothing to me. The officers left +us.</p> +<p>"I have brought Jones over, Captain," said the surgeon, "that +you may tell him personally of your good intentions in regard to +his first service with you. He wishes to be enrolled."</p> +<p>"If Private Jones--" began the Captain.</p> +<p>"My name is Berwick--Jones Berwick," I said.</p> +<p>"There's another strange notion," said the doctor; "you've got +the cart before the horse."</p> +<p>"No, Doctor," I insisted earnestly; "my name is Jones +Berwick."</p> +<p>"We have it 'B. Jones,'" said the doctor; "and I am certain it +is written that way in your diary. If you are Private Berwick +instead of Private Jones, no wonder that nobody claims you."</p> +<p>"I know that my surname is Berwick, but I know nothing of +Private Berwick," said I.</p> +<p>"Well," said Captain Haskell, "if you have got your name +reversed, that is a small matter which will straighten itself out +when you recover your memory. What I was going to say is, that you +may be received into my company as a recruit, as it were, but to be +returned to your original company whenever we learn what company +that is. We will continue, through brigade headquarters, to try to +find out what regiment you are from--and under both of your names. +While you are with me I shall cheerfully do for you all that I can +to favour your condition. You will be expected, however, to do a +man's full duty; I can stand no shirking."</p> +<p>The Captain's tone was far different from that he had used +toward me in the tent; his voice was stern and his manner +frigid.</p> +<p>"We will take the best care of you that we can," he continued, +"and will keep to ourselves the peculiar circumstances of your +case; for I can well understand, although you have said nothing +about it, sir, that you do not wish confidences."</p> +<p>His tone and manner were again those of our first interview.</p> +<p>"Captain," I said, "I know nothing of military life."</p> +<p>"So we take you as a new man," said he, adopting anew his +official voice, "and we shall not expect more of you than of an +ordinary recruit; we shall teach you. If you enroll with me, I +shall at once make a requisition for your arms and accoutrements, +your knapsack, uniform, and everything else necessary for you. You +may remain in the hospital until your equipment is ready for you. +Report to me day after to-morrow at noon, and I will receive you +into my company. Now, Frank, excuse me; it is time for +prayers."</p> +<p>The men gathered around us. Captain Haskell held a prayer-book +in his hand. A most distinguished-looking officer, whose name the +doctor told me was Lieutenant Barnwell, stood near with a torch. +Some of the men heard the prayer kneeling; others stood with bowed +heads.</p> +<p>The Captain began to read:--</p> +<p>"O God, from whom all holy desires, all good counsels, and all +just works do proceed, give unto Thy servants that peace which the +world cannot give; that our hearts may be set to do Thy +commandments, and also that by Thee, we, being defended from the +fear of our enemies, may pass our time in rest and quietness, +through the merits of Jesus Christ our Saviour.</p> +<p>"O Lord, our heavenly Father, by whose almighty power we have +been preserved this day; by Thy great mercy defend us from all +perils and dangers of this night, for the love of Thy only Son, our +Saviour, Jesus Christ.</p> +<p>"O Lord, our heavenly father, the high and mighty Ruler of the +Universe, who dost from Thy throne behold all the dwellers upon +earth, most heartily we beseech Thee with Thy favour to behold and +bless Thy servant the President of the Confederate States, and all +others in authority; and so replenish them with the grace of Thy +Holy Spirit that they may always incline to Thy will, and walk in +Thy way. Endue them plenteously with heavenly gifts, grant them in +health, and prosperity long to live; and finally, after this life, +to attain everlasting joy and felicity, through Jesus Christ our +Lord.</p> +<p>"O God, the Creator and Preserver of all mankind, we humbly +beseech Thee for all sorts and conditions of men; that Thou wouldst +be pleased to make Thy ways known unto them, Thy saving health to +all nations. More especially we pray for Thy holy church universal, +that it may be so guided and governed by Thy good Spirit, that all +who profess and call themselves Christians may be led into the way +of truth, and hold the faith in unity of spirit, in the bond of +peace, and in righteousness of life. Finally, we commend to Thy +fatherly goodness all who are in any ways afflicted or distressed +in mind, body, or estate, that it may please Thee to comfort and +relieve them, according to their several necessities, giving them +patience under their sufferings, and a happy issue out of all their +afflictions. And this we beg for Christ's sake. Amen."</p> +<p>While this impressive scene had lasted I stood in the darkness +outside of the group of men, fearing to be closely observed.</p> +<p>Here was a man whom one could surely trust; he was strong and he +was good. I began to feel glad that I was to be under him instead +of another. I was lucky. But for Dr. Frost and Captain Haskell, I +should be without a friend in the world. Another surgeon might have +sent me to the general hospital, whence I should have been remanded +to duty; and failing to know my regiment, I should have been +apprehended as a deserter. At the best, even if other people had +recognized the nature of my trouble, I should have been subjected +then and always to the vulgar curiosity which I so greatly dreaded. +Here in Company H nobody would know me except as an ordinary +recruit.</p> +<p>The men of Company H scattered. I walked up to the Captain and +said, "Captain Haskell, I shall be proud to serve under you."</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "we will not conclude this matter until Dr. +Frost sends you to me. It is possible that you will find your own +company at any day, or you may decide to serve elsewhere, even if +you do not find it. You are not under my orders until you come to +me."</p> +<p>As we were returning to the hospital, the doctor asked me +seriously, "You insist that your name is Jones Berwick?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Doctor; my surname is Berwick, and my first name is Jones. +How did you get my name reversed?"</p> +<p>"On the diary taken from your pocket your name is written 'B. +Jones,'" he said.</p> +<p>"Will you let me see the diary?"</p> +<p>"I will give it to you as soon as we get to our camp. I ought to +have done so before."</p> +<p>The diary that the doctor gave me--I have it yet--is a small +blank book for the pocket, with date headings for the year 1862. +Only a very few dates in this book are filled with writing. On the +fly-leaf is "B. Jones," and nothing more, the leaf below the name +having been all torn away. The writing begins on May 23d, and ends +with May 27th. The writing has been done with a pencil. I copy +below all that the book contains:--</p> +<p>"FRIDAY, May 23, 1862.</p> +<p>"Arrived after furlough. Drilled A.M. and P.M. Weather +clear."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"SATURDAY, May 24, 1862.</p> +<p>"On camp guard. Letters from home. Showers. Marched at +night."</p> +<p>"SUNDAY, May 25, 1862.</p> +<p>"Marched all day. Bivouacked in woods at night."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"MONDAY, May 26, 1862.</p> +<p>"Marched but a few miles. Weather bad. Day very hot. Heavy rain +at night."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"TUESDAY, May 27, 1862.</p> +<p>"Rain. Heard a battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that +had been fighting."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Each page in the book is divided into three sections.</p> +<p>After reading and rereading the writing again and again, I said +to the surgeon, "Doctor, I find it almost impossible to believe +that I ever wrote this. It looks like my writing, but I am certain +that I could not have written B. Jones as my name."</p> +<p>The Doctor smiled and handed me a pencil. "Now," said he, "take +this paper and write at my dictation."</p> +<p>He then read slowly the note under May 27th: "Rain. Heard a +battle ahead. Marched past Branch's brigade, that had been +fighting."</p> +<p>"Now let us compare them," said he.</p> +<p>The handwriting in the book was similar to that on the +paper.</p> +<p>"Well," said Dr. Frost, "do you still think your name is Jones +Berwick?"</p> +<p>"I know it," I said; "that is one of the things that I do +know."</p> +<p>"And if your handwriting had not resembled that of the book, +what would you have said?"</p> +<p>"That the book was never mine, of course."</p> +<p>"Yet that would have been no proof at all," said the doctor. +"Many cases have been known of patients whose handwriting had +changed completely. The truth is, that I did not expect to see you +write as you did just now."</p> +<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," was my reply.</p> +<p>"Strange!" said he; "I would bet a golden guinea that your name +is Berwick Jones. Some people cannot remember their names at +all--any part of their names. Others see blue for red. Others do +this and do that; there seems to be no limit to the vagaries of the +mind. I'd rather risk that signature which you made before you were +hurt."</p> +<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor. This signature cannot be +trusted. It is full of suspicion. Don't you see that all the lower +part of the leaf has been torn off? What was it torn off for? Why, +of course, to destroy the name of the regiment to which the owner +belonged! B. Jones is common enough; Jones Berwick is not so +common. I found it, or else it got into my pocket by mistake. No +wonder that a man named Jones is not called for."</p> +<p>"But, Jones, how can you account for the writing, which is +identical? Even if we say that the signature is wrong, still we +cannot account for the rest unless you wrote it. It is very +romantic, and all that, to say that somebody imitated your +handwriting in the body of the book, but it is very far-fetched. +Find some other theory."</p> +<p>"But see how few dates are filled!" I exclaimed.</p> +<p>"Yet the writing itself accounts for that. On May twenty-third +you began. You tell us that you had just returned from home, where +you had been on furlough. You left your former diary, if you had +kept one, at home. You end on May twenty-seventh, just a few days +ago."</p> +<p>"My name is Jones Berwick," I said.</p> +<p>"By the by, let me see that book a moment."</p> +<p>I handed it to him.</p> +<p>"No; no imprint, or else it has been torn out," he said; "I +wanted to see who printed it."</p> +<p>"What would that have shown?"</p> +<p>"Well, I expected to find that it was printed in Richmond, or +perhaps Charleston; it would have proved nothing, however."</p> +<p>"My name is Jones Berwick, Doctor."</p> +<p>"Well, so be it! We must please the children. I shall make +inquiries for the regiment and company from which Jones Berwick is +missing. Now do you go to bed and go to sleep."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The next morning I borrowed the doctor's shaving appliances.</p> +<p>The last feeble vestige of doubt now vanished forever. The face +I saw in the glass was not my face. It was the face of a man at +least ten years older. Needless to describe it, if I could.</p> +<p>After I had completed the labour,--a perilous and painful +duty,--I made a different appearance, and felt better, not only on +account of the physical change, but also, I suppose, because my +mind was now settled upon myself as a volunteer soldier.</p> +<p>Dr. Frost had told me that the two Bellots were coming to see +me; Captain Haskell had asked them to make the acquaintance of a +man who would probably join their company. I begged the doctor to +give them no hint of the truth. He replied that it would be +difficult to keep them in the dark, for they wouldn't see why a +man, already wearing uniform, should offer himself as a member of +Company H.</p> +<p>"I think we'd better take them into our conspiracy," said +he.</p> +<p>To this I made strong objection. I would take no such risk, "If +I had any money," I said, "I should certainly buy other +clothing."</p> +<p>"Well, does the wind sit there?" said he; "you have money; lots +of it."</p> +<p>"Where?"</p> +<p>"There was money in your pocket when you were brought to me; +besides, the government gives a bounty of fifty dollars to every +volunteer. Your bounty will purchase clothing, if you are +determined to squander your estate. Captain Haskell would be able +to secure you what you want; your bounty is good for it."</p> +<p>"But I have no right to the bounty," said I.</p> +<p>"Fact!" said he; "you see how I fell into the trap? I was +thinking, for the moment, from your standpoint, and you turned the +tables on me. Yes; you have already received the bounty; maybe you +haven't yet spent it, though. I'll look up the contents of your +pockets; I hope nothing's been lost."</p> +<p>He rummaged in a chest and brought out a knife and a pencil, as +well as a leather purse, which proved to contain thirty dollars in +Confederate notes, a ten-dollar note of the bank of Hamburg, South +Carolina, and more than four dollars in silver.</p> +<p>"I did not know you were so rich," said Dr. Frost; "now what do +you want to do with all that?"</p> +<p>"I want a suit of old clothes," I said.</p> +<p>"Why old?"</p> +<p>"Because I shall soon be compelled to throw it away."</p> +<p>"Not at all," said he; "you can pack it up and leave it; if we +march, it will be taken care of. Get some cheap, cool, summer +stuff; I know what to do. How you held on to that silver so long is +a mystery."</p> +<p>The doctor wrote a note to somebody in Richmond, and before the +Bellots came in the late afternoon I was prepared for them. The +elder Bellot had already seen me, but in my civilian's garb he did +not seem to recognize me. The younger Bellot was a handsome man, +fully six feet, with a slight stoop; I never saw more kindly eyes +or a better face; he, too, wore a full beard. His name was Louis, +yet his brother called him Joe. I took a liking to both Dave and +Joe.</p> +<p>The talk was almost entirely about the war. I learned that the +regiment was the first ever formed in the South. It had been a +State regiment before the Confederate States had existed--that is +to say, it had been organized by South Carolina alone, before any +other State had seceded; it had seen service on the islands near +Charleston.</p> +<p>A great deal of the talk was worse than Greek to me. Dave +Bellot, especially, gave me credit for knowing a thousand things of +which I was utterly ignorant, and I was on thorns all the time.</p> +<p>"Yes," says he; "you know all about Charleston, I reckon."</p> +<p>"No," I said; "I know very little about it. I've been there, but +I am not familiar with the city."</p> +<p>"Well, you know Sullivan's Island and Fort Moultrie."</p> +<p>Now, by some odd chance, I did remember the name of Moultrie, +and I nodded assent.</p> +<p>"Well," said he, "the First, or part of it, went under the guns +of Sumter on the morning of January ninth, just an hour after the +Cadets had fired on the <i>Star of the West</i>; we thought Sumter +would sink us, but she didn't say a word."</p> +<p>I was silent, through fear of self-betrayal. Why it was that +these men had not asked me about my home, was puzzling me. +Momentarily I expected either of them to blurt out, "Where are you +from?" and I had no answer ready. Afterward I learned that I was +already known as an Aiken man, in default of better,--the doctor +having considerately relieved me from anticipated danger.</p> +<p>"After the bombardment, the First was transferred to the +Confederate service. It had enlisted for six months, and its time +expired in June. It was in Virginia then. It was paid up and +discharged, and at once reorganized under the same +field-officers."</p> +<p>I did not very well know what a field-officer is.</p> +<p>"Who is the colonel?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Colonel Hamilton," said he; "or Old Headquarters, as I called +him once in his own hearing. We were at Suffolk in winter quarters, +and it was the day for general inspection of the camp. We had +scoured our tin plates and had made up our bunks and washed up +generally, and every man was ready; but we got tired of waiting. I +had my back to the door, and I said to Josey, 'Sergeant, I wonder +when Old Headquarters will be here.' You never were so scared in +your life as I was when I heard a loud voice at the door say, +'Headquarters are here now, sir!' and the colonel walked in."</p> +<p>I attempted appropriate laughter, and asked, "Where is +Suffolk?"</p> +<p>"Down near Norfolk. General Gregg was our first colonel. He was +in the Mexican war, and is a fine officer; deaf as a door-post, +though. He commands our brigade now."</p> +<p>"Where did you go from Suffolk?"</p> +<p>"To Goldsborough."</p> +<p>"Where is that?" I asked.</p> +<p>"North Carolina. You remember, when Burnside took Roanoke Island +it was thought that he would advance to take the Weldon and +Wilmington railroad; we were sent to Goldsborough, and were +brigaded with some tar-heel regiments under Anderson. Then Anderson +and the lot of us were sent to Fredericksburg. We were not put +under Gregg again until we reached Richmond."</p> +<p>"How many regiments are in the brigade?"</p> +<p>"Five,--the First, Twelfth, Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Orr's +Rifles."</p> +<p>"All from South Carolina?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"From Fredericksburg we marched down here," observed Joe.</p> +<p>"Yes," said Dave; "and not more than a week ago. We came very +near getting into it at Hanover, where Branch got torn up so."</p> +<p>"Where is Hanover?" I asked.</p> +<p>"About twenty miles north," he replied, "I thought we were sure +to get into that fight, but we were too late for it."</p> +<p>The Bellots were very willing to give me all information. They +especially sounded the praises of their young Captain, and declared +that I was fortunate in joining their company instead of some +others which they could name.</p> +<p>Not a word was spoken concerning my prior experience. I +flattered myself with the belief that they thought me a raw recruit +influenced by some acquaintanceship with Dr. Frost.</p> +<p>Before they left, Joe Bellot said a word privately to his +brother, and then turned to me. "By the way," said he, "do you know +anybody in the company?"</p> +<p>"Not a soul except Captain Haskell," I replied. "I am simply +relying on Dr. Frost; I am going to join some company, and I rely +on his judgment more than on my own."</p> +<p>"Well, we'll see you through," said he. "Join our mess until you +can do better."</p> +<p>I replied, with true thankfulness, that I should be glad to +accept his offer.</p> +<p>"Did you see the morning papers?" asked the elder Bellot. I was +walking a short way with the brothers as they returned to their +camp. "No," said I.</p> +<p>"It contains a terrible account of the Yankees' method of +warfare."</p> +<p>"What are they doing?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Inciting the slaves to insurrection and organizing them into +regiments of Federal soldiers. Butler, in command at New Orleans, +has several regiments of negroes; and Colonel Adams, in command of +one of our brigades in Tennessee, has reported that the Yankees in +that State are enticing the negroes away from their owners and +putting arms into their hands."</p> +<p>"That is very barbarous," said I. My ignorance kept me from +saying more. The language he had used puzzled me; I did not know at +the time that New Orleans was in the hands of the Federals, and his +saying that Butler had regiments of negroes seemed queer.</p> +<p>"The people who sold us their slaves helped John Brown's +insurrection," said Bellot.</p> +<p>A sudden recollection came, and I was about to speak, but Bellot +continued. The last thing I could remember clearly was the reading +of Brown's deeds at Harper's Ferry!</p> +<p>"They claim that they are fighting against the principle of +secession, and they have split Virginia into two States. In my +opinion, they are fighting for pure selfishness--or, rather, impure +selfishness: they know that they live on the trade of the South, +and that they cannot make as much money if they let us go to +ourselves."</p> +<p>"Yes," said Louis; "the war is all in the interest of trade. Of +course there are a few men in the North, whose motives may be good +mistakenly, but the mass of the people are blindly following the +counsels of those who counsel for self-interest. If the moneyed +men, the manufacturers, and the great merchants of the North +thought for one moment that they would lose some of their dollars +by the war, the war would end. What care they for us? They care +only for themselves. They plunge the whole country into mourning +simply in order to keep control of the trade of the South."</p> +<p>Up to this time I had known nothing of the creation of West +Virginia by the enemy, and I thought it discreet to be silent, +mentally vowing that I should at once read the history of events +since 1859. So I sought Dr. Frost, and begged him to help me get +books or papers which would give me the information I needed; for +otherwise, I told him, I should be unable to talk with any +consistency or method.</p> +<p>"Let me see," he said; "there is, of course, no one book in +print that would give you just what you want. We might get files of +newspapers--but that would be too voluminous reading and too +redundant. You ought to have something concise--some outline; and +where to get it I can't tell you." Then, as the thought struck him, +he cried, "I'll tell you; we'll make it! You write while I +dictate."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIII"></a>XXIII</h2> +<h3>A LESSON IN HISTORY</h3> +<center>"So that, from point to point, now have you heard<br> +The fundamental reasons of this war;<br> +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,<br> +And more thirsts after."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>The doctor brought me a small pocket memorandum-book, thinking +that I would require many notes.</p> +<p>"Now," said he, "where shall we begin? You remember October +fifty-nine?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"What date?"</p> +<p>"Eighteenth; the papers contained an account of John Brown's +seizure of Harper's Ferry."</p> +<p>"And you know nothing of the termination of the Brown +episode?"</p> +<p>"Nothing."</p> +<p>I took brief notes as he unfolded the history of the war.</p> +<p>In the course of his story he spoke of the National Democratic +Convention which was held in Charleston. I remembered the building +of which he spoke--the South Carolina Institute Hall--and +interrupted him to tell him so."</p> +<p>"Maybe your home is in Charleston."</p> +<p>"I don't think so, Doctor; I remember being in Charleston, but I +don't remember my home."</p> +<p>He brought out a map and told me the dates of all the important +actions and the names of the officers who had commanded or fought +in them in '61 and '62, both in Virginia and the West.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>"So we have come down to date, Doctor?" I said.</p> +<p>"Yes; but I think that now I ought to go back and tell you +something about your own command."</p> +<p>"Well, sir."</p> +<p>"There was more fighting while these Richmond movements were in +progress. Where is Fredericksburg? Here," looking at the map.</p> +<p>"Well."</p> +<p>"A Yankee army was there under McDowell, the man who commanded +at the battle of Manassas. We had a small army facing McDowell. You +were in that army; it was under General Anderson--Tredegar Anderson +we call him, to distinguish him from other Andersons; he is +president of the Tredegar Iron Works, here in Richmond. Well, you +were facing McDowell. Now, look here at the map. McClellan +stretched his right wing as far as Mechanicsville--here, almost +north of Richmond; and you were between McClellan and McDowell. So +Anderson had to get out. Don't you remember the hot march?"</p> +<p>"Not at all; I don't think I was there."</p> +<p>"I thought I'd catch you napping. I think that when you recover +your memory it will be from some little thing that strikes you in +an unguarded moment. Your mind, when consciously active, fortifies +itself against your forgotten past, and it may be in a moment of +weakness that things will return to you; I shouldn't wonder if a +dream proves to be the beginning. However, some men have such great +strength of will that they can do almost anything. If ever you get +the smallest clew, you ought then and there to determine that you +will never let it go. Your friends may find you any day, but it is +strange they have not yet done it They surely must be classing you +among the killed."</p> +<a name="326.png"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/326.png" width="50%" alt=""><br> +<b>A Lesson In History<br> +Map of Chesapeake Bay and Environs</b></p> +<p>"Do you think that my friends could help me by telling me the +past? Would my memory return if I should find them?"</p> +<p>"No; they could give you no help whatever until you should first +find one thing as a starting-point. Find but one little thing, and +then they can show you how everything else is to be associated with +that. Without their help you would have a hard time in collecting +things--putting them together; they would be separate and distinct +in your mind; if you remember but one isolated circumstance, it +would be next to impossible to reconstruct. Well, let's go on and +finish; we are nearly at the end, or at the beginning, for you. +Where was I?</p> +<p>"Anderson retreated from Fredericksburg. When was that?"</p> +<p>"The twenty-fourth of May or twenty-fifth--say the night of the +twenty-fourth."</p> +<p>"Well, sir."</p> +<p>"We had a brigade here, at Hanover Court-House--Branch's +brigade. While you were retreating, and when you were very near +Hanover, McClellan threw a column on Branch, and used him very +severely. You were not in the fight exactly, but were in hearing of +it, and saw some of Branch's men after the fight. That is how we +know what brigade you belong to, although it will not claim you. +You know that you are from South Carolina, and your buttons prove +it; and your diary shows that you were near Branch's brigade while +it was in the fight; and the only South Carolina brigade in the +whole of Lee's army that had any connection with Branch, is +Gregg's. Do you see?"</p> +<p>"I see," said I, "what is the date of that battle?"</p> +<p>"May 27th; your diary tells you that."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"You continued to retreat to Richmond. So did Branch. The +division you are in is A.P. Hill's. It is called the Light +division. Branch's brigade is in it."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; now let me see if I can call the organization of the +army down to the company."</p> +<p>"Go ahead."</p> +<p>"Lee's army--"</p> +<p>"Yes; Army of Northern Virginia."</p> +<p>"What is General Lee's full name?"</p> +<p>"Robert E.--Robert Edward Lee, of Virginia; son of Light-Horse +Harry Lee of Revolution times."</p> +<p>"Thank you, sir; Lee's army--A.P. Hill's division--Gregg's +brigade--what is General Gregg's name?"</p> +<p>"Maxcy."</p> +<p>"Gregg's brigade--First South Carolina, Colonel Hamilton--"</p> +<p>"How did you know that?"</p> +<p>"Bellot told me; what is Colonel Hamilton's name?"</p> +<p>"D.H.--Daniel, I believe."</p> +<p>"Company H, Captain Haskell--"</p> +<p>"William Thompson Haskell."</p> +<p>"Thank you, sir; any use to write the lieutenants?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Well, Doctor, that brings us to date."</p> +<p>"Now read what you have written," he said.</p> +<p>I read my notes aloud, expanding the abbreviations I had made. +My interest and absorption had been so intense that I could easily +have called over in chronological order the principal events he had +just narrated.</p> +<p>"Now," asked Dr. Frost, "do you believe that you can fill in the +details from what you can remember of what I said?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," said I; "try me."</p> +<p>He asked some questions, and I replied to them.</p> +<p>My memory astonished him. "I must say, Jones, that you have a +phenomenally good and a miraculously bad memory. You'll do," he +said.</p> +<p>His account of the fight of the ironclads had interested me.</p> +<p>"What has become of the <i>Merrimac?</i>" I asked him.</p> +<p>"We had to destroy her. When Yorktown was evacuated, Norfolk had +to follow suit. The Federal fleet is now in James River, some +halfway down below Richmond. A blockade has been declared by +Lincoln against all the ports of the South. We are exceedingly weak +on the water."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIV"></a>XXIV</h2> +<h3>BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE</h3> +<center>"And so your follies fight against yourself.<br> +Fear, and be slain; no worse can come; to fight--<br> +And fight and die, is death destroying death;<br> +Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath."<br> + --SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>On June 7,1862, I reported for duty to Captain Haskell. Dr. +Frost had offered to send me over, but I preferred to go alone, +and, as my strength seemed good, I made my way afoot, and with all +my possessions in my pockets.</p> +<p>The Captain was ready for me. My name was recorded on the roll +of Company H, Orderly-sergeant George Mackay writing Jones, B., in +its alphabetical position.</p> +<p>A soldier's outfit was given to me at once, a requisition having +been made before my coming. I joined the mess of the Bellots. +Besides the brothers Bellot, the mess had other men with whom I +formed gradually some of the ties of friendship; they were Sergeant +Josey, Corporal Veitch, Privates Bail, Bee, Bell, Benton, and Box, +in this alphabetical succession of names my own name being no real +exception, although Captain Haskell had insisted upon the name +written in the diary.</p> +<p>And now my duties at once began. I must relearn a soldier's +drill in the manual and in everything. The company drilled four +hours a day, and the regiment had one hour's battalion drill, +besides dress-parade; there was roll-call in the company morning +and night.</p> +<p>Nominally a raw recruit, I was handed over to Sergeant John +Wilson, who put me singly through the exercises without arms for +about four hours on my first day's duty, which was the third day of +my enlistment, or perhaps I should say re-enlistment. The sergeant +seemed greatly pleased with my progress, and told me that he should +at once promote me to be the right guide of his awkward squad.</p> +<p>On the next day, therefore, I found myself drilling with three +other recruits who had been members of the company for a week or +more. That night Orderly-sergeant Mackay, who seemed to have +received me into his good graces, told me that Wilson had said that +that new man Jones beat everything that he had seen before; that +learning to drill was to Jones "as easy as fallin' off a log." I +remembered Dr. Frost's prediction.</p> +<p>The third day I drilled with the awkward squad again; but in the +afternoon my gun was put into my hands, and for an extra half-hour +I was exercised in the manual of arms. But my first attempts proved +very unfortunate. Sergeant Wilson scolded, stormed, and almost +swore at me. He placed my gun at the <i>carry</i>, and called +repeated attention to the exact description of the position, +contained in the language of Hardee: "The piece in the right hand, +the barrel nearly vertical, and resting in the hollow of the +shoulder; the guard to the front, the arm hanging nearly at its +full length near the body; the thumb and forefinger embracing the +guard, the remaining fingers closed together, and grasping the +swell of the stock just under the cock, which rests on the little +finger." I simply could not execute the <i>shoulder</i>, or +<i>carry</i>, with any precision, although the positions of +<i>support, right-shoulder-shift, present,</i> and all the rest, +gave me no trouble after they were reached; reaching them, from the +<i>shoulder</i> was the great trouble.</p> +<p>Wilson ended by ordering me off and reporting me to the +Captain.</p> +<p>Captain Haskell sent for me. He said kindly, "Jones, Sergeant +Wilson gives a bad report of you."</p> +<p>"I do the best I can, Captain."</p> +<p>"The sergeant seems to think that you are obstinate on some +peculiar point that he did not make me fully understand. He gives +you great praise for learning the facings and the steps, but says +you will not learn the manual."</p> +<p>"I don't understand my awkwardness, Captain. There is something +wrong about it."</p> +<p>"You find the manual difficult?"</p> +<p>"Not only difficult, but absurd," said I; "it makes me +nervous."</p> +<p>"And the facings and steps were not difficult?"</p> +<p>"Not at all; they seemed easy and natural."</p> +<p>"Take your gun and come with me," said the Captain; "I think I +have a clew to the situation."</p> +<p>Behind the Captain's simple quarters was an open space. He made +me take position. He also took position, with a rifle at his +side.</p> +<p>"Now, look," said he; "see this position, which I assume to be +the <i>shoulder</i> natural to you."</p> +<p>His gun was at his left side, the barrel to the front, the palm +of his left hand under the butt.</p> +<p>"Now," said he, "this is the <i>shoulder</i> of the heavy +infantry manual. I think you were drilled once in a company which +had this <i>shoulder</i>. It may not have been in your recent +regiment that you were so drilled, for this <i>shoulder</i> +obtained in all the militia companies of Carolina before the war. +Many regiments still hold to it. Follow my motions +now--<i>Support</i>--ARMS!"</p> +<p>The Captain's right hand grasped the piece at the small of the +stock; his left arm was thrown across his breast, the cock resting +on the forearm; his right hand fell quickly to his side.</p> +<p>I imitated him. I felt no nervousness, and told him so.</p> +<p>"I thought so," said he; "now, just remember that all the other +positions in the manual are unchanged. It is only the +<i>shoulder</i>, or <i>carry</i>, as we sometimes call it, that has +been changed. You will like the new drill."</p> +<p>He began to put me through the exercises, and although I had +difficulty, yet I had some success.</p> +<p>"Now report to Sergeant Wilson again," said the Captain.</p> +<p>I told the sergeant that I thought I could now do better; that I +had been confused by the light infantry <i>carry</i>, never having +seen drill except from the heavy infantry <i>shoulder</i>. Wilson +kept me at work for almost an hour, and expressed satisfaction with +my progress. Under his training I was soon able to drill with the +company.</p> +<p>Louis Bellot asked me, one night, if I should not like to see +Richmond. He had got permission to go into town on the next day. +The Captain readily granted me leave of absence for twenty-four +hours, and Bellot and I spent the day in rambling over the town. We +saw the State House, and the Confederate Congress in session, and +wandered down to the river and took a long look at the Libby +Prison.</p> +<p>The First had been in bivouac behind the main lines of Lee's +left, but now the regiment took position in the front, the lines +having been extended still farther to the left. A battery at our +right--some distance away--would throw a few shells over at the +Yankees, and their guns would reply; beyond this almost daily +artillery practice, nothing unusual occurred.</p> +<p>One morning, about ten o'clock, Captain Haskell ordered me to +get my arms and follow him. He at once set out toward the front, +Corporal Veitch being with him. The Captain was unarmed, except for +his sword. He led us through our pickets and straight on toward the +river. The slope of the hill was covered with sedge, and there were +clumps of pine bushes which hid us from any casual view from either +flank; and as for the river swamp in our front, unless a man had +been on its hither edge, we were perfectly screened. I observed +that, as we approached the swamp, the Captain advanced more +stealthily, keeping in the thickest and tallest of the bushes. +Veitch and I followed in his footsteps, bending over and slipping +along from bush to bush in imitation of our leader. The river +bottom, which we reached very shortly, was covered with a dense +forest of large trees and undergrowth. Soon we came to water, into +which the Captain waded at once, Veitch behind him and I following +Veitch. Captain Haskell had not said a word to me concerning the +purpose of our movements, nor do I now know what he intended, if it +was not merely to learn the position of the Yankee pickets.</p> +<p>We went on, the water at last reaching to my waist. Now the +Captain signalled us to stop. He went forward some ten yards and +stood behind a tree. He looked long in his front, bending his body +this way and that; then he beckoned to us to come. The undergrowth +here was less thick, the trees larger. I could see nothing, in any +direction, except trees and muddy water. The Captain went on again +for a few paces, and stopped with a jerk. After a little he +beckoned to us again. Veitch and I waded slowly on. Before we +reached Captain Haskell, he motioned to us to get behind trees.</p> +<p>From my tree I looked out, first in one direction and then in +another. There was nothing--nothing except water and woods. But the +Captain was still peering from behind his tree, and I could now see +that his whole attention was fixed on something. Veitch, also, at +my right, was silent and alert and rigid, so that I felt, rather +than saw, that there was something in front of us, and I kept my +eyes intent upon a narrow aisle just beyond me. All at once a man +in dark-blue dress passed across the opening; I knew instantly that +he was a Yankee, although I had never seen one in my life, and +instinctively felt the hammer of my rifle, but he was gone. Now, +looking more closely, I could see glimpses of other blue men behind +trees or in the bushes; I saw three of them. They were about sixty +yards from us; I supposed they were part of their picket-line. I +had a peculiar itching to take aim at one of them, and consulted +the Captain with my eyes, but he frowned.</p> +<p>Doubtless, they had not seen us. They were on the farther side +of the Chickahominy, with a flowing stream and a wide pool +stretching in their front, and were not very watchful. We remained +stiff in our places for four or five minutes; then the Captain +moved slowly backward and gave us a sign to follow.</p> +<p>This little adventure gave me great pleasure, inasmuch as it +made me feel that the Captain was favourable to me.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the evening of the 25th of June we were ordered to cook three +days' rations. The pronunciation of this word puzzled me no little. +Everybody said rash-ons, while I, though I had never before had +occasion to use the word, had thought of it as 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.</p> +<p>The troops knew that the order meant a march, perhaps a battle. +For a day or two past an indefinite rumour of some movement on the +part of Jackson's command had circulated among the men. Nobody +seemed to know where Jackson was; this, in itself, probably gave +occasion for the talk. From what I could hear, it seemed to be +thought generally that Jackson was marching on Washington, but some +of the most serious of the men believed exactly the contrary; they +believed that Jackson was very near to Lee's army.</p> +<p>The night of the 25th was exceedingly warm. After all was ready +for the march, I lay on my blanket and tried vainly to sleep. Joe +Bellot was lying not more than three feet from me, and I knew that +he, too, was awake, though he did not speak or move. Busy, and +sometimes confused, thoughts went through my mind. I doubted not +that I should soon see actual war, and I was far from certain that +I could stand it. I had never fired a shot at a man; no man had +ever fired at me. I fully appreciated the fact of the difference +between other men and me; perhaps I exaggerated my peculiarity. I +had heard and had read that most men in battle are able from +motives of pride to do their duty; but I was certainly not like +most men. I was greatly troubled. The other men had homes to fight +for, and that they would fight well I did not doubt at all; but I +was called on to fight for an idea alone--for the abstraction +called State rights. Yet I, too, surely had a home in an unknown +somewhere, and these men were fighting for my home as well as +theirs; if I could not fight for a home of my own, I could fight +for the homes of my friends. My home, too, was a Southern home, +vague, it is true, but as real as theirs, and Southern homes were +in danger from the invaders. I <i>must</i> fight for Southern +homes--for <i>my</i> home; but could I stand up with my comrades in +the peril of battle? Few men are cowards, but was I not one of a +few? perhaps unique even?</p> +<p>Of pride I had enough--I knew that. I knew that if I could but +retain my presence of mind I could support a timid physical nature +by the resources of reason in favour of my dignity; but, then, what +is courage if it is not presence of mind in the midst of danger? If +my mind fail, I shall have no courage: this is to think in a +circle. I felt that I should prefer death to cowardice--the thought +gave me momentary comfort.</p> +<p>But do not all cowards feel just that way before the trial +comes? A coward must be the most wretched of men--not a man, an +outcast from men.</p> +<p>And then, to kill men--was that preferable to being killed? I +doubted it and--perhaps it is strange to say it--the doubt +comforted me. To be killed was no worse than to kill.</p> +<p>Then I thought of General Lee; what force could it be that +sustained <i>him</i> at this moment? If not now, at least shortly, +he would give orders which must result in the death of thousands; +it was enough to craze a general. How could he, reputed so good, +give such orders? Could any success atone for so much disaster? +What could be in the mind of General Lee to make him consent to +such sacrifice? It must be that he feels forced; he cannot do it +willingly. Would it not be preferable to give up the contest--to +yield everything, rather than plunge the people of two nations into +despair and horror over so many wasted lives? For so many stricken +homes? For widows, orphans, poverty, ruin? What is it that sustains +General Lee? It is, it must be, that he is a mere soldier and +simply obeys orders. Orders from whom? President Davis. Then +President Davis is responsible for all this? On him falls the +burden? No. What then? The country.</p> +<p>And what is this thing that we call the country? Land? People? +What is land? I have no land. I have no people, so far as I know. +But, supposing that I have people and land--what is the country for +which we fight? Will the enemy take our people, and take our land, +if we do not beat them back? Yes, they will reduce our people to +subjection. I shall become a dependant upon them. I shall be +constrained in my liberties; part of my labour will go to them +against my will. My property, if I have any, will be taken from me +in some way--perhaps confiscated, if not wholly, at least in a +measure, by laws of the conquerors. I shall not be free.</p> +<p>But am I now free? If we drive back the enemy, shall I be free? +Yes, I shall be free, rightly free, free to aid the country, and to +got aid from the country, I shall be part of the country and can +enjoy my will, because I will to be part of my country and to help +build up her greatness and sustain and improve her +institutions.</p> +<p>Institutions? What is an institution? We say government is an +institution. What is a government? Is it a body of men? No. What is +it, then? Something formed by the people for their supposed good, a +growth, a development--a development of what? Is it material? No, +it is moral; it is <i>soul</i>--then I thought I could see what is +meant by the country and by her institutions. The country is the +spirit of the nation--and it is deathless. It is not doomed to +subjection; take the land--enslave the people--and yet will that +spirit live and act and have a body. Let our enemies prevail over +our armies; let them destroy; yet shall all that is good in our +institution be preserved even by our enemies; for a true idea is +imperishable and nothing can decay but the false.</p> +<p>Then why fight? Because the true must always war against the +false. The false and the true are enemies. But why kill the body in +order to spread, or even to maintain, the truth? Will the truth be +better or stronger by that?</p> +<p>Perhaps--yet no. War is evil and not good, and it is only by +good that evil can be overcome. But if our enemies come upon us, +must we not fight? The country wishes peace. Our enemies bring war. +Must we submit? We cannot submit. Submission to disgrace is +repugnant to the spirit of the nation; death is better than +submission. But killing, is it not crime? Is crime better than +submission? No; submission is better than crime But is not +submission also a crime? At least it is an infringement of the law +of the nation's spirit. Then crime must be opposed by crime? To +avoid the crime of submission we must commit the crime of killing? +It seems so--but why? But why? Ah! yes; I think I see; it is +because the spirit of the nation is not equal to the spirit of the +world. The world-idea forbids killing and forbids submission, and +demands life and freedom for all; the spirit of the nation is not +so unselfish; the spirit of the nation exalts so-called patriotism; +the world-spirit raises high the principle of philanthropy +universal. The country has not developed the world-idea, and will +not, except feebly; but she will at last, and will be loyal to the +spirit of the world. Then, unless I am sustained by a greater +power, I cannot go contrary to the spirit of the South. I must kill +and must be killed.</p> +<p>But can I stand the day of battle? Have I not argued myself into +a less readiness to kill? Will these thoughts or fancies--coming to +me I know not whence, and bringing to me a mental disturbance +incomprehensible and unique--comfort me in the hour of danger? Will +not my conscience force me to be a coward? Yet cowardice is worse +than death.</p> +<p>I could not sleep; I was farther from sleep than ever. I rose, +and walked through long lines of sleeping men--men who on the +morrow might be still more soundly sleeping.</p> +<p>Captain Haskell was standing alone, leaning against the parapet. +I approached. He spoke kindly, "Jones, you should be asleep."</p> +<p>"Captain," I said; "I have tried for hours to sleep, but +cannot."</p> +<p>"Let us sit down," said he; "and we will talk it over by +ourselves."</p> +<p>His tone was unofficial. The Captain, reserved in his conduct +toward the men, seldom spoke to one of them except concerning +duties, yet he was very sympathetic in personal matters, and in +private talk was more courteous and kind toward a private than +toward an equal. I understood well enough that it was through +sympathy that he had invited me to unburden.</p> +<p>"Captain," I said, "I fear."</p> +<p>"May I ask what it is that you fear?"</p> +<p>"I fear that I am a coward."</p> +<p>"Pardon me for doubting. Why should you suppose so?"</p> +<p>"I have never been tried, and I dread the test."</p> +<p>"But," said he; "you must have forgotten. You were in a close +place when you were hurt. No coward would have been where you were, +if the truth has been told."</p> +<p>"That was not I; I am now another man."</p> +<p>"Allow me again to ask what it is that you seem to dread."</p> +<p>"Proving a coward," I replied.</p> +<p>"You fear that you will fear?" said he.</p> +<p>"That is exactly it."</p> +<p>"Then, my friend, what you fear is not danger, but fear."</p> +<p>"I fear that danger will make me fear."</p> +<p>"I imagine, sir, that danger makes anybody fear--at least +anybody who has something more than the mere fearlessness of the +brute that cannot realize danger."</p> +<p>"Do you fear, too, Captain?"</p> +<p>The Captain hesitated, and I was abashed at my boldness. I knew +that his silence was rebuke.</p> +<p>"I will tell you how I feel, Jones, since you permit me to speak +of myself," he said at last; "I feel that life is valuable, and not +to be thrown away lightly. I want to live and not die; neither do I +like the thought of being maimed for life. Death and wounds are +very distasteful to me. I feel that my body is averse to exposing +itself to pain; I fear pain; I fear death, but I do not fear fear. +I do not think the fear of death is unmanly, for it is human. Those +who do not fear death do not love life. Please tell me if you love +life."</p> +<p>"I do not know, Captain; I suppose I do."</p> +<p>"Do you fear death?"</p> +<p>"What I fear now is cowardice. I suppose that if I were +indifferent to death I should have no fear of being afraid."</p> +<p>"I am sure that you kept your presence of mind the other day, in +the swamp," said he.</p> +<p>"I don't think I had great fear."</p> +<p>"Yet you were in danger there."</p> +<p>"Very little, I think, Captain."</p> +<p>"No, sir; you were in danger. At any moment a bullet might have +ended your life."</p> +<p>"I did not realize the situation, then."</p> +<p>"Well, I must confess that you had the advantage of me, then," +said he.</p> +<p>"What? You, Captain? You felt that you were in danger?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Jones; every moment I knew our danger."</p> +<p>"But you did not fear."</p> +<p>"May I ask if you do not regard fear as the feeling caused by a +knowledge of danger?"</p> +<p>"I know, Captain,--I don't know how I know it,--but I know that +a man may fear and yet do his duty; but there are other men, and I +am afraid that I am one of them, who fear and who fail in +duty."</p> +<p>"I congratulate you, sir; I wish all our men would fear to fail +in duty," said he; "we should have an invincible army in such case. +An army consisting, without exception, of such men, could not be +broken. It is those who flee, those who fail in duty, that cause +disorganization. The touch of the elbow is good for the weak, I +think, sir; but for the man who will do his duty such dependence +should not be taught. Good men, instructed to depend on comrades +will be demoralized when comrades forsake them. Our method of +battle ought to be changed. Our ranks should be more open. Many +reasons might be urged for that change, but the one we are now +considering is enough. The close line makes good men depend on weak +men; when the weak fail, the strong feel a loss which is not really +a loss but rather an advantage, if they could but see it so. Every +man in the army ought to be taught to do his whole duty regardless +of what others do. Those who cannot be so taught ought not to +fight, sir; there are other duties more suited to them."</p> +<p>"And I fear that my case is just such a one," I said.</p> +<p>"There is fear and fear," said he; "how would you like for me to +test you now?"</p> +<p>"To test me?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I can make you a proposition that will test your courage." +His voice had become stern.</p> +<p>I hesitated. What was he going to do? I could not imagine. But I +felt that to reject his offer would be to accept fully the position +into which my fears were working to thrust me.</p> +<p>"Do it, Captain," said I; "make it. I want to be relieved of +this suspense."</p> +<p>"No matter what danger you run? Is danger better than suspense +concerning danger?"</p> +<p>I reflected again. At last I brought up all my nerve and +replied, "Yes, Captain, danger is better than fear."</p> +<p>"Why did you hesitate? Was it through fear?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said I; "but not entirely through fear; I doubted that I +had the right to incur danger uselessly."</p> +<p>"And how did you settle that?"</p> +<p>"I settle that by trusting to you, Captain."</p> +<p>He laughed; then he said: "The test that I shall give you may +depress you, but I am sure that you are going to be as good a +soldier as Company H can boast of having. Lieutenant Rhett, only +yesterday, remarked that you were the best-drilled man in the +company, and showed astonishment that a raw recruit, in less than +two weeks, should gain such a standing. I thought it advisable to +say to him that your education had included some military training, +and he was satisfied." The Captain had dropped his official manner. +"It is clear to me, Jones, that you are more nearly a veteran than +any of us. I know that you have been in danger and have been +wounded, and your uniform, which you were wearing then, showed +signs of the very hardest service. I have little doubt, sir, that +you have already seen battle more than once."</p> +<p>"But, Captain, all that may be true and yet do me no good at +all. I am a different man."</p> +<p>"Since you allow me to enter into your confidence,--which I +appreciate,--I beg to say that your fears are not unnatural; I +think every man in the company has them. And I dare say, as a +friend, that you feel fear more sensitively because you live in the +subjective; you feel thrown back on yourself. Confess that you are +exclusive."</p> +<p>"I am forced to be so, Captain."</p> +<p>"The men would welcome your companionship, sir."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; but it is as you say: I feel thrown back on +myself."</p> +<p>"And I think--though, of course I would not pretend to say it +positively--that is why your fears are not unnatural, though +peculiar; I fancy that you heighten them by your +self-concentration. The world and objects in it divert other men, +while your attention is upon your own feelings. Pardon me for +saying that you think of little except yourself. This new old +experience of battle and peril you apply without dilution to your +soul, and you wonder what the effect will be. The other men think +of other men, and of home, and of a thousand things. You will be +all right in battle. I predict that the excitement of battle will +be good for you, sir; it will force you out of yourself."</p> +<p>"I have tried lately to take more interest in the world of other +men and other things," I said.</p> +<p>"Yes; I was glad to see you playing marbles to-day. Shall I give +you that test?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; if you please."</p> +<p>"I think, however, that you have already given proof that you do +not need it," said he.</p> +<p>"How so, Captain?"</p> +<p>"Why, we've been talking here for ten minutes since I proposed +to test you, and you have shown no suspense whatever in regard to +it. Have you lost interest in it?"</p> +<p>"Not at all, Captain; I have only been waiting your good +time."</p> +<p>"And therein you have shown fortitude, which may differ from +courage, but I do not think it does. I am confident you will at +once reject my proposition. I don't know that I ought to make it; +but, having begun, I'll finish. What I propose is this: I will +assign you some special duty that will keep you out of battle--such +as guarding the baggage, or other duty in the rear."</p> +<p>I was silent. An instant more, and I felt hurt.</p> +<p>"Why do you hesitate?"</p> +<p>"Because I did not think--" I stopped in time.</p> +<p>"I know, I know," said he, hastily; "and you must pardon me; but +did you not urge me on?"</p> +<p>"I confess it, Captain; and you have done me good."</p> +<p>"Of course, Jones, you know that I did not expect you to accept +my offer, which, after all, was merely imaginary. Now, can you not +see that what you fear is men's opinions rather than danger? You +are not intimidated at the prospect of battle."</p> +<p>"I fear that I shall be," said I.</p> +<p>"And yet, when I propose to keep you out of battle, your +indignation seems no less natural to yourself than it does to +me."</p> +<p>"Is not that in keeping with what I have said about my +fears?"</p> +<p>"Oblige me by explaining."</p> +<p>"I fear to show you my fear. Do I not refuse your offer for the +purpose of concealing my fear?"</p> +<p>"And to conceal your imaginary fears, you accept the +possibility--the strong possibility--of death," said he, +gravely.</p> +<p>"Yes," I replied; "I do now, while death seems far, but what I +shall do when it is near is not sure."</p> +<p>"You are very stubborn," said the Captain, in a stern voice, +assuming again the relation of an officer.</p> +<p>"I do not mean it that way, Captain."</p> +<p>"You have determined to consider yourself a coward, or at least +to cherish fear; and no suggestion I can make seems to touch +you."</p> +<p>"I wish I could banish fear," said I.</p> +<p>"Well, sir, determine to do it. Instead of exerting your will to +make yourself miserable, use it for a better purpose."</p> +<p>"How can a man will? How can he know that his resolution will +not weaken in the time of trial?"</p> +<p>"It is by willing to do what comes next that a man can again +will and will more. Can you not determine that you will do what you +are ordered to do? Doubtless we shall march, to-morrow; have you +not decided that you will march with us?"</p> +<p>"I had not thought of so simple a thing. Of course, Captain, I +expect to march."</p> +<p>"And if the march brings us upon the battlefield, do you not +know that you will march to the battlefield?"</p> +<p>"I expect to go into battle, of course, Captain. If I did not, I +should have no fear of myself."</p> +<p>"Have as great fear of yourself as you wish. Do you intend to +run away when we get into battle?"</p> +<p>"I have no such intention; but when the time comes, I may not be +able to have any intention at all."</p> +<p>"At what point in the action do you expect to weaken?"</p> +<p>"How can I have any expectation at all? I am simply untried, and +fear the test."</p> +<p>"You <i>can</i> determine that you will act the man," said he. +Then, kindly: "I have no fears that you will do otherwise, +but"--and here his voice again became stern--"the determination +will rid you of your present fears. Exert your will, and this +nightmare will go."</p> +<p>"Can a man will to do an unknown thing in the future?"</p> +<p>"<i>You</i> can. You can drive away your present fear of +yourself, at the very least."</p> +<p>"How can I do it, Captain?"</p> +<p>"I shall give you one more test."</p> +<p>"Do anything you wish, Captain; only don't propose anything that +would confirm my fear."</p> +<p>"Look at me--now. I am going to count three--understand?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"When I say 'three,' you will determine to continue in your +present state of mind--"</p> +<p>"No, no, Captain; I can't do that!"</p> +<p>"Why, you've been doing nothing else for the last hour, man! But +allow me to finish. You are going to determine to remain as you +are, or you will determine to conquer your fears. Now, reflect +before I begin."</p> +<p>There was a pause.</p> +<p>"Ready!" said the Captain; "hold your teeth together. When I say +three, you act--and act for life or death--ONE--TWO--"</p> +<p>If he ever said three, I did not hear it; at the word "two" all +my fears were gone.</p> +<p>"Well, my friend, how is it now?" he asked gently, even +hesitatingly.</p> +<p>"Captain," said; "I am your grateful servant. I shall do my +duty."</p> +<p>"I knew, sir, that your will was only sleeping; you must excuse +me for employing a disagreeable device in order to arouse it. If I +may make a suggestion, I would now beg, while you are in the vein, +that you will encourage henceforth, the companionship of the +men."</p> +<p>"It will be a pleasure to do so, hereafter, Captain."</p> +<p>"And I am delighted with this little episode, sir," said he; "I +am sincerely glad that the thought of confiding in me presented +itself to your mind, since the result seems so wholesome."</p> +<p>"Good night, Captain," said I.</p> +<p>But he did not let me leave without thus having reasserted his +character as my commander.</p> +<p>"Go back and get all the sleep you can; you will have need for +all your physical strength to-morrow--and after."</p> +<p>I was almost happy.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXV"></a>XXV</h2> +<h3>IN THE GREAT BATTLE</h3> +<center>"If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work,<br> +Thou'lt not believe thy deeds; but I'll report it."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>It is said that a word may change a life. Actually? No, not of +itself; the life which is changed must be ready for the word, else +we were creatures dominated by our surroundings.</p> +<p>I had been a fragment,--a sort of moral flotsam cast up by an +unknown sea,--and I had found a rude harbour in Company H. If I +touched a larger world, it was only through the medium of the +company in its relations to that world. I had formed some +attachments,--ties which have lasted through life thus far, and +will always last,--but these attachments were immediate only, and, +so far as I felt, were almost baseless; for not directly could I +see and feel what was felt by the men I loved. Outside the narrow +bounds of the company my world was all abstract. I fought for that +world, for it appealed to my reason; but it was with effort that I +called before my mind that world, which was a very present help to +every other man. The one great fact was war; the world was an ideal +world rather than a reality. And I frequently felt that, although +the ideal after all is the only reality, yet that reality to me +must be lacking in the varying quality of light, and the delicate +degrees of sweetness and truth which home and friends and all the +material good of earth were said to assume for charming their +possessors. The day brought me into contact with men; the night +left me alone with myself. In my presence men spoke of homes far +away, of mothers, of sisters, of wives and children. I could see +how deep was the interest which moved them to speak, and, in a +measure, they had my sympathy; yet such interest was mystery rather +than fact, theoretical rather than practical. I could fill these +pages with pathetic and humorous sayings heard in the camps, for my +memory peculiarly exerted itself to retain--or rather, I should +say, spontaneously retained--what I saw and heard; saw and heard +with the least emotion, perhaps, ever experienced by a soldier. +Absorbed in reflections on what I heard, and in fancies of a world +of which I knew so little, it is not to be doubted that I +constructed ideals far beyond the humdrum reality of home life, +impracticable ideals that tended only to separate me more from +other men. Their world was not my world; this I knew full well, and +I sometimes thought they knew it; for while no rude treatment +marked their intercourse with me, yet few sought me as a friend. My +weak attempts to become companionable had failed and had left me +more morose. But for the Captain and for Joe Bellot, I should have +been hopeless.</p> +<p>Such had been my feelings before I had willed; now, in a degree, +everything was changed; indifference, at least, was gone, and +although I was yet subject to the strange experience which ruled my +mind and hindered it, yet I knew that I had large power over +myself, and I hoped that I should always determine to live the life +of a healthy human being, that I should be able to accept the +relationships which, through Company H, bound me to all men and all +things, and that my interest henceforth would be +diversified--touching the world and what is in it rather than +myself alone. But this was mere hope; the only certain change was +in the banishment of my former indifference.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The morning of Thursday, the 26th of June, passed away, and we +yet held our place in the line. At two o'clock the long roll was +heard in every regiment. Our knapsacks had been piled, to be stored +in Richmond.</p> +<p>"<i>Fall in, Company H! Fall in, men! Fall in promptly!"</i> +shouted Orderly-sergeant Mackay.</p> +<p>By fours we went to rear and left, then northward at a rapid +stride. Some of the men tried to jest, and failed.</p> +<p>At three o'clock we were crossing Meadow Bridge; we could see +before us and behind us long lines of infantry--Lee's left wing in +motion.</p> +<p>Beyond the bridge the column filed right; A.P. Hill came riding +back along the line of the Light Division.</p> +<p>Suddenly, from over the hills a mile and more away, comes the +roar of cannon. We leave the road and march through fields and +meadows; the passing of the troops ahead has cleared the way; we go +through gaps in rail fences.</p> +<p>And now we hear the crash of small arms, and smoke is rising +from our left oblique. We are yet under the hill. We halt and wait. +The noise of battle grows. Sunset comes--we move. The next company +on our right is passing through a gap in a fence. A shell strikes +the topmost rail at the left and hurls it clear over their heads. +Then I see men pale, and I know that my own face is white.</p> +<p>Shells fly over us. We lie down on the slope of a hill which +rises to our left, and darkness grows, and the noises cease. No +breaking of ranks for rest or for water; the long night through we +lie on our arms.</p> +<p>Morning comes; we have no water; the men eat their rations dry. +At sunrise the march is again begun, through fields and woods and +down country roads; we go southeast.</p> +<p>The Yankees have gone. At nine o'clock we halt; a field. Company +C, the right of the regiment; is thrown forward as skirmishers.</p> +<p>Again we march; again we halt, the brigade in line of battle. An +orderly comes to Captain Haskell.</p> +<p>"<i>Company H!</i> ATTENTION!"</p> +<p>Every man is in his place--alert.</p> +<p>"<i>Forward</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>"<i>By the right flank</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>"HALT!--FRONT!"</p> +<p>"<i>Company--as skirmishers--on the right file--take +intervals--double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>I did not have very far to go. The company was deployed on the +left of Company C. Then we went forward in line for half a mile or +more, through woods and fields, the brigade following in line of +battle.</p> +<p>About eleven o'clock we had before us an extensive piece of open +land--uncultivated, level, and dry. In the edge of the woods we had +halted, so that we might not get too far ahead of the brigade. From +this position we saw--some six hundred yards at our left oblique--a +group of horsemen ride out into the field, seemingly upon a road, +or line, that would intersect our line of advance. Our men were at +once in place. The distance was too great to tell the uniforms of +the party of horsemen; but, of course, they could be only +Yankees.</p> +<p>Captain Haskell ordered Dave Bellot to step out of the line. The +horsemen had halted; they were a small party, not more than fifteen +or twenty. Captain Haskell ordered Bellot to take good aim at the +most eligible one of the group, and fire.</p> +<p>Bellot knelt on one knee, raised his sight, put his rifle to his +shoulder, and lowered it again. "Captain," said he, "I am afraid to +fire; they may be our men."</p> +<p>The Captain made no reply; he seemed to hesitate; then he put +his handkerchief on the point of his sword and walked forward. A +horseman advanced to meet him. Captain Haskell returned to Company +H, and said, "They are General Jackson and his staff."</p> +<p>Again we went forward. Prom the brow of a hill we could see +tents--a camp, a Yankee camp--on the next hill, and we could see a +few men running away from it. We reached the camp. It had been +abandoned hurriedly. Our men did not keep their lines perfectly; +they were curious to see what was in the tents. Suddenly the +cracking of rifles was heard, and the singing of bullets, and the +voice of Captain Haskell commanding, "<i>Lie down!</i>"</p> +<p>Each man found what shelter was nearest. I was behind a tent. +The Yankee skirmishers were just beyond a little valley, behind +trees on the opposite hill, about two hundred yards from us. I +could see them looking out from behind the trees and firing. I took +good aim at one and pulled the trigger; his bullet came back at me; +I loaded and fired; I saw him no more, but I could see the smoke +shoot out from the side of the tree and hear his bullet sing. I +thought that I ought to have hit him; I saw him again, and fired, +and missed. Then I carefully considered the distance, and concluded +that it was greater than I had first thought. I raised the sliding +sight to three hundred yards, and fired again at the man, whom I +could now see distinctly. A man dropped or leaped from the tree, +and I saw him no more; neither did I see again the man behind the +tree.</p> +<p>We had had losses. Veitch and Crawford had been shot fatally; +other men slightly. The sun was shining hot upon us. The brigade +was behind us, waiting for us to dislodge the skirmishers. Suddenly +I heard Captain Haskell's voice ordering us forward at +double-quick. We ran down the hill into the valley below; there we +found a shallow creek with steep banks covered with briers. We beat +down the briers with our guns, and scrambled through to the other +side of the creek in time to see the Yankees run scattering through +the woods and away. We reached their position and rested while the +brigade found a crossing and formed again in our rear. I searched +for a wounded man at the foot of a tree, but found none; yet I felt +sure that I had fired over my man and had knocked another out from +the tree above him.</p> +<p>We advanced again, and had a running fight for an hour or more. +At length no Yankees were to be seen; doubtless they had completed +the withdrawing of their outposts, and we were not to find them +again until we should strike their main lines.</p> +<p>Now we advanced for a long distance; troops--no doubt +Jackson's--could be seen at intervals marching rapidly on our left, +marching forward and yet at a distance from our own line. We +reached an elevated clearing, and halted. The brigade came up, and +we returned to our position in the line of battle--on the left of +the First. It was about three o'clock; to the right, far away, we +could hear the pounding of artillery, while to the southeast, +somewhere near the centre of Lee's lines, on the other side of the +Chickahominy perhaps, the noise of battle rose and fell. Shells +from our front came among us. A battery--Crenshaw's--galloped +headlong into position on the right of the brigade, and began +firing. The line of infantry hugged the ground.</p> +<p>Three hundred yards in front the surface sloped downward to a +hollow; the slope and the hollow were covered with forest; what was +on the hill beyond we could not see, but the Yankee batteries were +there and at work. A caisson of Crenshaw's exploded. Troops were +coming into line far to our right.</p> +<p>General Gregg ordered his brigade forward. We marched down the +wooded slope, Crenshaw firing over our heads. We marched across the +wooded hollow and began to ascend the slope of the opposite hill, +still in the woods.</p> +<p>The advance through the trees had scattered the line; we halted +and re-formed. The pattering of bullets amongst the leaves was +distinct; shells shrieked over us; we lay down in line. Between the +trunks of the trees we could see open ground in front; it was thick +with men firing into us in the woods. Those in our front were +Zouaves, with big, baggy, red breeches. We began to fire kneeling. +Leaves fell from branches above us, and branches fell, cut down by +artillery. Butler, of our company, lying at my right hand, gave a +howl of pain; his head was bathed in blood. Lieutenant Rhett was +dead. Rice, at my left, had found whiskey in the Yankee camp. He +had drunk the whiskey. He raised himself, took long aim, and fired; +lowered his gun, but not his body, gazing to see the effect, and +yelled, "By God, I missed him!" McKenzie was shot. Lieutenant +Barnwell was shot. The red-legged men were there and thicker. Our +colour went down, and rose. We had gone into battle with two +colours,--the blue regimental State flag, and the battle-flag of +the Confederate infantry. Lieutenant-colonel Smith had fallen.</p> +<p>A lull came. I heard the shrill voice of Gregg:--</p> +<p>"<i>Bri-ga-a-a-de</i>--ATTENTION!"</p> +<p>"<i>Fi-i-i-x</i>--BAYONETS!"</p> +<p>"<i>For-w-a-r-d</i>--" and the next I knew men were dropping +down all around me, and we were advancing. But only for a minute +did we go forward. From front and left came a tempest of lead; +again the colours--both--fell, and all the colour-guard. The +colonel raised the colours. We staggered and fell back; the retreat +through the woods became disorder.</p> +<p>On top of our hill I could see but few men whom I knew,--only +six, but one of the six was Haskell. The enemy had not advanced, +but shell and shot yet raked the hill. Crenshaw's battery was again +in full action. We hunted our regiment and failed to find it. Some +regiment--the Thirtieth North Carolina--was advancing on our right. +Captain Haskell and his six men joined this regiment, placing +themselves on its left. The Thirtieth went forward through the +woods--reached the open--and charged.</p> +<p>The regiment charged boldly; forward straight it went, no man +seeing whither, every man with his mouth stretched wide and his +voice at its worst.</p> +<p>Suddenly, down to the ground fell every man; the line had found +a sunken road, and the temptation was too great--down into the +friendly road we fell, and lay with bodies flat and faces in the +dust.</p> +<p>The officers waved their swords; they threatened the men; the +men calmly looked at their officers.</p> +<p>A man on a great horse rode up and down the line urging, +gesticulating. He got near to Haskell--</p> +<p>"Who <i>are</i> you?" shouted our Captain.</p> +<p>"Captain Blount--quartermaster fourth North Carolina."</p> +<p>"We will follow you!" shouted Haskell.</p> +<p>Blount rode on his great horse--he rode to the centre of the +Thirtieth--he stooped; he seized the colour--he lifted the +battle-flag high in the air--he turned his great horse--he rode up +the hill.</p> +<p>Then those men lying in the sunken road sprang to their feet, +and followed their flag fluttering in front, and made the world +hideous with yells.</p> +<p>And the red flag went down--and Blount was dead--and the great +horse was lying on his side and kicking the air--and the hill was +gained.</p> +<p>The Thirtieth was disorganized by its advance. Another North +Carolina regiment came from the right rear. Haskell and his six +were yet unbroken; they joined the advancing regiment, keeping on +its left, and charged with it for another position. Believe it or +not, the same thing recurred; the regiment charged well; from the +smoke in front death came out upon it fast; a sunken road was to be +crossed, and was not crossed; down the men all went to save their +lives.</p> +<p>And the officers waved their swords, and the men remained in the +road.</p> +<p>Now the Captain called the six, and ran to the centre of the +regiment; he snatched the flag and rushed forward up the slope--he +looked not back, but forward.</p> +<p>The six were on the slope--the Captain was farthest forward--one +of the six fell--in falling his face was turned back--he saw that +the regiment was yet in the sunken road, and he shouted to his +Captain and told him that the regiment did not follow.</p> +<p>The Captain came back, and said tenderly, "Ah! Jones? What did I +tell you? Are you hurt badly? I will send for you."</p> +<p>Then the Captain and five turned away to the right, for the flag +would not be taken back to the regiment lying down.</p> +<p>On an open hill between the two battling hosts I was lying. The +bullets and shells came from front and rear. The blue men came +on--and the others went back awhile. I fired at the blue men, and +tried to load, but could not. I felt a great pain strike under my +belt and was afraid to look, for I knew the part was mortal. But at +length I exerted my will, and controlled my fear, and saw my +trousers torn. My first wound had deadened my leg, but I felt no +great pain--the leg was numb. The new blow was torture. I managed +to take down my clothing, and saw a great blue-black spot on my +groin. I was confused, and wondered where the bullet went, and +perhaps became unconscious.</p> +<p>Darkness was coming, and Jones or Berwick, or whoever I was, yet +lay on the hill. Now there were dead men and wounded men around me. +Had a tide of war flowed over me while I slept? A voice feebly +called for help, and I crawled to the voice, but could give no help +except to cut a shoe from a crushed foot. The flashes of rifles +could be seen,--the enemy's rifles,--they came nearer and nearer, +and I felt doomed to capture.</p> +<p>Then from the rear a roar of voices, and in the gathering gloom +a host of men swept over me, disorderly, but charging hard--- the +last charge of Gaines's Mill.</p> +<p>"What troops are you?" I had strength to ask, and two +replied:--</p> +<p>"Hood's brigade."</p> +<p>"The Hampton Legion."</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Night had come. The great battle was won. Lights flashed and +moved and disappeared over the hills and hollows of the field,--men +with torches and lanterns; and names of regiments were shouted into +the darkness by the searchers for wounded friends who replied, and +for others who could not. At last I heard: "First South Carolina! +First South Carolina!" and I gathered up my strength and cried, +"Here!" Louis Bellot and two others came to me. They carried me +tenderly away, but not far; still in the field of blood they laid +me down on the hillside--and a night of horror passed slowly +away.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>The next morning, June 28th, they bore me on a stretcher back to +the field hospital near Dr. Gaines's, just in rear of the +battlefield. Our way was through scattered corpses. We passed by +many Zouaves, lying stiff and stark; one I shall always call to +mind: he was lying flat on his back, the soles of his feet firm on +the ground, his knees drawn up to right angles above, and with his +elbows planted on the grass, his fingers clinched the air. His open +mouth grinned ghastly on us as we went by.</p> +<p>At the field hospital the dangerously wounded were so numerous +that I was barely noticed; a brief examination; "flesh wound"--that +was all. I had already found out that the bullet had passed +entirely through the fleshy part of my thigh, and I had no fears; +but the limb now gave me great pain, and I should have been glad to +have it dressed. I was laid upon the ground under a tree and +remained there until night, when I was put with others into an +ambulance and taken to some station on some railroad--I have never +known what station or what road. The journey was painful. I was in +the upper story of the ambulance. We jolted over rough roads, +halting frequently because the long train filled the road ahead. +The men in the lower story were badly wounded, groaning, and +begging for this or that. I did not know their voices; they were +not of our company. But some time in the night I learned somehow--I +suppose by his companion calling his name--that one of the men +below me was named Virgil Harley. Harley? I thought--Virgil Harley? +Why, I knew that name once! Surely I knew that name in South +Carolina! And I would have spoken, but was made aware that Virgil +Harley was wounded unto death. When we reached the railroad, I was +taken out and lifted into a car, I asked about Virgil Harley. "He +is dead," was the answer.</p> +<p>Then I felt more than ever alone because of this slightest +opportunity, now lost forever. Virgil Harley might have been able +to tell me of myself. He was dead. I had not even seen him. I had +but heard his voice in groans that ended in the death-rattle.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVI"></a>XXVI</h2> +<h3>A BROKEN MUSKET</h3> +<center> + +"What seest thou else<br> +In the dark backward and abysm of time?<br> +If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,<br> +How thou cam'st here, thou may'st."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>When the train of wounded arrived in Richmond, it was early +morning. Many men and women had forsaken their beds to minister +unto the needs of the suffering; delicacies were served +bountifully, and hearts as well as stomachs were cheered; there +were evidences of sympathy and honour on every hand.</p> +<p>Late in the forenoon I was taken to Byrd Island Hospital--an old +tobacco factory now turned into something far different. My +clothing was cut from me and taken away. Then my wound--full of +dirt and even worms--was carefully dressed. The next morning the +nurse brought me the contents of my pockets. She gave me, among the +rest, a marble and a flattened musket-ball, which, she had found in +the watch-pocket of my trousers. Now I recalled that I had put my +"taw" in that pocket; the bullet had struck the marble, which had +saved me from a serious if not fatal wound.</p> +<p>The ward in which I found myself contained perhaps a hundred +wounded men, not one of whom I knew, though there were a few +belonging to my regiment--other companies than mine. Acquaintance +was quickly made, however, by men on adjoining cots; but no man, I +think, was ever called by his name. He was Georgia, or +Alabama,--his State, whatever that was. My neighbours called me, of +course, South Carolina.</p> +<p>Many had fatal wounds; almost every morning showed a vacant cot. +I remember that the man on the next cot at my left, whose name in +ward vernacular was Alabama, had a story to tell. One morning I +noticed that he was wearing a clean white homespun shirt on which +were amazingly big blue buttons. I allowed myself to ask him why +such buttons had been used. He replied that, a month before he had +been on furlough at his home in Alabama, and that his mother had +made him two new shirts, and had made use of the extraordinary +objects which I now saw because they were all she had. He had told +her jestingly that she was putting that big blue button on the +middle of his breast to be a target for some Yankee; and, sure +enough, the wound which had sent him to the hospital was a rifle +shot that struck the middle button. I laughed, and Alabama laughed, +too, but not long. He died.</p> +<p>For nearly two months I remained in this woful hospital. Life +there was totally void of incident. After the first week, in which +we learned of the further successes of the Confederate arms and of +our final check at Malvern Hill, anxiety was no longer felt +concerning Lee's army, now doing nothing more than watching +McClellan, who had intrenched on the river below Richmond, under +the protection of the Federal fleet. We learned with some degree of +interest that another Federal army was organizing under General +Pope somewhere near Warrenton; but Southern hopes were so high in +consequence of the ruin of McClellan's campaign, and the manifest +safety of Richmond, that the new army gave us no concern; of course +I am speaking of the common soldiers amongst whom I found +myself.</p> +<p>At the end of a fortnight my wound was beginning to heal a +little, and in ten days more I began to hobble about the room on +crutches. On the first day of August I was surprised to see Joe +Bellot enter the ward. The brigade had marched into Richmond, and +was about to take the cars for Gordonsville in order to join +Jackson, who was making head against Pope. It was only a few +minutes that Bellot could stay with me; he had to hurry back to the +command.</p> +<p>Then I became restless. The surgeons told me that I could get a +furlough; but what did I want with a furlough? To go home? My home +was Company H.</p> +<p>I was limping about without crutches, and getting strong +rapidly, when the papers told us of Jackson's encounter with Banks +at Cedar Run. Then my feverish anxiety to see the one or two +persons in the world whom I loved became intense. I walked into the +surgeon's office, keeping myself straight, and asked an order +remanding me to my company. He flatly refused to give it. Said he, +"You would never reach your company; where is it, by the way?"</p> +<p>"Near Gordonsville, somewhere," said I.</p> +<p>"I will find out to-day; come to me to-morrow morning."</p> +<p>On the next day he said, "Your regiment is on the Rapidan. You +would have to walk at least twenty miles from Gordonsville; it +would be insane."</p> +<p>"Doctor," said I, "I am confident that I can march."</p> +<p>"Yes," said he; "so am I; you can march just about a mile and a +half by getting somebody to tote your gun and knapsack. Come to me +again in about a week."</p> +<p>I came to him four days afterward, and worried him into giving +me my papers, by means of which I got transportation to +Gordonsville, where I arrived, in company with many soldiers +returning to their commands, on August 22d. From Gordonsville I +took the road north afoot. There was no difficulty in knowing the +way, for there was no lack of men and wagons going and returning. I +had filled a haversack with food before I left Richmond--enough for +two days. My haversack, canteen, and a blanket were all my +possessions.</p> +<p>At about two o'clock the next day, as I was plodding over a hot +dusty road somewhere in Culpeper County, I met a wagon, which +stopped as I approached. The teamster beckoned to me to come to +him. He said: "Don't go up that hill yonder. There is a crazy man +in the road and he's a-tryin' to shoot everybody he sees. Better go +round him." I thanked the teamster, who drove on. At the foot of +the ascending hill I looked ahead to see whether there was a way to +get round it, but the road seemed better than any other way. Heavy +clouds were rolling up from the south, with wind and thunder. A +farmhouse was on the hill at the left of the road; I wanted to get +there if possible before the rain. In the road I saw nobody. I +walked up the hill, thinking that, after all, my friend the wagoner +was playing a practical joke upon me. All at once, from the side of +the road, a Confederate soldier showed himself. He sprang into the +middle of the road some six paces in front of me, presented his gun +at me with deliberate aim, and pulled the trigger without saying a +word. Altogether it was a very odd performance on his part and an +unpleasant experience for me. When his gun failed to fire, he +changed his attitude at once, and began the second part of his +programme. He dropped his piece to the position of ordered arms, +kept himself erect as on dress-parade, raised his right hand high, +and shouted, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p> +<p>I stood and looked at him ten seconds; then I tried to slip +round him, keeping my eyes on him, however, for fear that his gun +might, after all, be loaded; he faced me again, and repeated his +cry, "The cannons! the cannons!"</p> +<p>The rain was beginning to fall in big drops. I rushed past him, +and seeing--nearer to me than the house--some immense haystacks +with overhanging projections resulting from continued invasion by +cattle, I was soon under their sheltering eaves. As I ran, I could +hear behind me the warning voice of the soldier, who evidently had +lost his reason in battle.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>As night fell on the 24th I was standing behind a tree, waiting +to surprise Company H. I had reached the lines while they were +moving; Hill's Light Division was passing me. Soon came General +Gregg, riding at the head of his brigade; then one regiment after +another till the last--the First--appeared in sight, with Company C +leading. I remained behind the tree; at last I could see Captain +Haskell marching by the side of Orderly-sergeant Mackay; then I +stepped out and marched by the side of the Captain. At first, in +the twilight, he did not know me; then, with a touch of gladness in +his voice, he said: "I did not expect you back so soon. Are you +fully recovered?"</p> +<p>"I report for duty, Captain," I replied.</p> +<p>He made me keep by his side until we halted for the night, and +had me tell him my experiences in the hospital and on the road. He +informed me briefly of the movements which had taken place +recently. The regiment had been under fire in the battle with +Banks, but had not suffered any loss. On this day--the 24th--the +regiment had been under fire of the Federal artillery on the +Rappahannock. We were now near the river at a place called +Jeffersonton, and were apparently entering upon the first movements +of an active campaign.</p> +<p>The company was much smaller than I had known it. We had lost in +the battles of the Chickahominy many men and officers. Disease and +hardship had further decreased our ranks. Captain Haskell was +almost the only officer in the company. My mess had broken up. +There were but four remaining of the original nine, and these four +had found it more convenient for two men, or even one, to form a +mess. I found a companion in Joe Bellot, whose brother had been +wounded severely at Gaines's Mill. Bellot had a big quart cup in +which we boiled soup, and coffee when we had any, or burnt-bread +for coffee when the real stuff was lacking. Flour and bacon were +issued to the men. We kneaded dough on an oilcloth, or gum-blanket +as the Yankee prisoners called it, and baked the dough by spreading +it on barrel-heads and propping them before the fire. When these +boards were not to be had, we made the dough into long slender +rolls, which, we twined about an iron ramrod and put before the +fire on wooden forks stuck in the ground. My haversack of food +brought from Richmond was exhausted; this night but one day's +ration was issued.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the next morning Jackson began his movement around Pope's +right. I had no rifle, or cartridge-box, or knapsack, and managed +so as to keep up. Being unarmed, I was allowed to march at will--in +the ranks or not, as I chose. The company numbered thirty-one men. +The day's march was something terrible. We went west, and +northwest, and north, fording streams, taking short cuts across +fields, hurrying on and on. No train of wagons delayed our march; +our next rations must be won from the enemy. Jackson's rule in +marching was two miles in fifty minutes, then ten minutes +rest,--but this day there was no rule; we simply marched, and +rested only when obstacles compelled a halt,--which loss must at +once be made up by extra exertion. At night we went into bivouac +near a village called Salem. We were now some ten or fifteen miles +to the west of Pope's right flank.</p> +<p>There were no rations, and the men were broken and hungry. A +detail from each company was ordered to gather the green ears from +some fields of corn purchased for the use of the government. That +night I committed the crime of eating eighteen of the ears half +roasted.</p> +<p>At daylight on the 26th we again took up the march. I soon +straggled. I was deathly sick. Captain Haskell tried to find a +place for me in some ambulance, but failed. I went aside into thick +woods and lay down; I slept, and when I awoke the sun was in +mid-heaven, and Jackson's corps was ten miles ahead, but I was no +longer ill. The troops had all passed me; there were no men on the +road except a few stragglers like myself. I hurried forward through +White Plains--then along a railroad through a gap in some +mountains--then through Gainesville at dark--and at last, about ten +o'clock at night, after questioning until I was almost in despair, +I found Company H asleep in a clover field. Still no rations.</p> +<p>Before dawn of the 27th we were waked by the sound of musketry +toward the east--seemingly more than two miles away. We moved at +sunrise, and soon reached Manassas Junction, already held by our +troops. Up to this time I had been unarmed, and all the men +destitute of food; here now was an embarrassment of riches. I got a +short Enfield rifle, marked for eleven hundred yards. Everything +was in abundance except good water. The troops of Jackson and Ewell +and Hill crammed their haversacks, and loaded themselves with +whatever their fancies chose--ludicrous fancies in too many cases. +Hams could be seen on bayonets. Comstock got a lot of smoking +tobacco and held to it tenaciously, refusing to divide. Cans of +vegetables, and sardines, and preserved fruits; coffee, sugar, tea, +medicines--everything, even to women's wearing apparel, was taken +or burnt. Our regiment lay by a muddy pool whose water we were +forced to drink, though filth--even horses' bones--lay on its +margin, and I know not what horrors beneath its green, slimy +surface. Before daylight of the 28th we marched northward in the +glare of the burning cars and camps. We crossed Bull Run on a +bridge, some of the men fording; here we got better water, but not +good water.</p> +<p>In the forenoon we readied Centreville and halted. Nobody seemed +to know the purpose of this movement toward the north. Were we +making for Washington? I had the chance of speaking to the Captain. +He told me that he thought Jackson's corps was in a close place, +but that he had no doubt we should be able to hold our own until +Longstreet could force his way to our help. We were between Pope's +army and Washington, and it was certain that Pope would make every +effort to crush Jackson.</p> +<p>About two o'clock the troops were put in motion, heading west, +down the Warrenton pike. It now appeared that only A. P. Hill's +division had marched to Centreville; the other divisions of +Jackson's corps were at the west, and beyond Bull Run. After +matching a mile or two we could see to the eastward and south, +great clouds of dust rolling up above the woods, evidently made by +a column in march upon the road by which, we had that morning +advanced from Manassas to Centreville. We knew that Pope's army--or +a great part of it--was making that dust, and that Pope was hot +after Jackson. We crossed Bull Run on the stone bridge and halted +in the road. It was about five o'clock; the men were weary--most of +us had loaded ourselves too heavily with the spoils of Manassas and +were repenting, but few had as yet begun to throw away their booty. +My increased burden bore upon me, but I had as yet held out; in +fact, the greater part of my load--beyond weapon, and +accoutrements--consisted in food which diminished at short +intervals. We could not yet expect rations.</p> +<p>We had rested perhaps half an hour. Again we were ordered to +march, and moved to the right through woods and fields, and formed +line facing south. How long our line was I did not know; I supposed +the whole of Hill's division was there, though I could see only our +regiment. Soon firing began at our right and right front; it +increased in volume, and artillery and musketry roared and subsided +until dark and after. At dark, the brigade again moved to the +right, seemingly to support the troops that had been engaged, and +which we found to be Ewell's division.</p> +<p>We lay on our arms in columns of regiments. We were ordered to +preserve the strictest silence. We were told that a heavy column of +the enemy was passing just beyond the hills in front of us. +Suddenly the sound of many voices broke out beyond the hills. The +Federal column was cheering. Near and far the cry rose and fell as +one command after another took it from the next. What the noise was +made for I never knew; probably Pope's sanguine order, in which he +expressed the certainty of having "the whole crowd bagged," had +been made known to his troops for the purpose of encouraging them. +Our men were silent, even gloomy, not knowing what good fortune had +made our enemies sound such high, triumphant notes; yet I believe +that every man, as he lay in his unknown position that night, had +confidence that in the battle of the morrow, now looked for as a +certainty, the genius of Lee and of Jackson would guide us to one +more victory.</p> +<p>Early on the morning of Friday, the 29th, we moved, but where I +do not know--only that we moved in a circuitous way, and not very +far, and that when we again formed line, we seemed to be facing +northeast. Already the sound of musketry and cannon had been heard +close in our front. Our regiment, left in front, was in the woods. +We brought our right in front, and then the brigade moved forward +down a slope to an unfinished railroad.</p> +<p>Comstock had given away all of his smoking tobacco, saying that +he would not need it.</p> +<p>Company H had been thrown out to left and front as skirmishers. +The regiment moved across the railroad and through the woods into +the fields beyond, far to the right of the position held by Company +H. The regiment met the enemy in heavy force; additional regiments +from the brigade were hurried to the support of the First, which, +by this time, was falling back before a full division of the enemy. +The brigade retired in good order to the railroad, and Company H +was ordered back into the battle line on the left of the First.</p> +<a name="367.png"></a> +<p class="ctr"><img src="images/367.png" width="50%" alt=""><br> +<br> +<b>Map entitled "SECOND MANASSAS, Aug. 29, 1882"</b></p> +<p>It was almost ten o'clock. Four companies of the First regiment, +under Captain Shooter, were now ordered forward through the woods +as skirmishers; on the left of this force was Haskell's company. We +came up with the enemy's skirmishers posted behind trees, and began +firing. We advanced, driving the Yankee skirmish-line slowly +through the woods. After some fluctuations in the fight, seeing +that our small force was much too far from support, order was given +to the skirmishers to retire; a heavy line of the enemy had been +developed. This order did not reach my ears. I suppose that I was +in the very act of firing when the order was given. While +reloading, I became aware that the company had retired, as I could +see no man to my right or left. Looking round, I saw the line some +thirty yards in my rear, moving back toward the brigade. Now I +feared that in retreating, my body would be a target for many +rifles. The Yankees were not advancing. I sprang back quickly from +my tree to another. Rifles cracked. Again I made a similar +movement--and again--at each tree, as I got behind it, pausing and +considering in front. At last I was out of sight of the enemy, and +also out of sight of Company H.</p> +<p>The toils of the last week had been hard upon me. My wounded leg +had not regained its full strength. I was hot and thirsty as well +as weak. I crossed a wet place in the low woods and looked for +water. Still no enemy was pursuing. I searched for a spring or +pool, following the wet place down a gentle slope, which inclined +to my right oblique as I retreated. Soon I found a branch and drank +my fill; then I filled my canteen and rose to my feet +refreshed.</p> +<p>Just below me, uprooted by some storm, lay a giant poplar +spanning the little brook. I stepped upon the log and stood there +for a second. Here was a natural retreat. If I had wanted to hide, +this spot was what I should have chosen. The boughs of the fallen +tree, mingling with the copse, made a complete hiding-place.</p> +<p>The more I looked, the more the spot seemed to bind me. I began +to wonder. Surely this was not my first sight of this spot. Had I +crossed here in the morning? No; we had moved forward much to the +right. What was the secret of the influence which the spot held +over me? I had seen it before or I had dreamed of it. I was greatly +puzzled.</p> +<p>On the ground lay the broken parts of a rust-eaten musket. I +picked up the barrel; it was bent; I threw it down and picked up +the stock. Why should I be interested in this broken gun? I knew +not, but I knew that I was drawn in some way by it. On the stock +were carved the letters J. B. Who had owned this gun? John Brown? +James Butler? Then the thought came suddenly--why not Jones +Berwick? No! That was absurd! But why absurd? Did I know who I was, +or where I had been, or where I had not been?</p> +<p>A shot and then another rang out in the woods at my left; I +dropped the gun and ran.</p> +<p>I soon overtook Company H retiring slowly through the woods. And +now we made a stand, as the brigade was in supporting distance. Our +position was perhaps three hundred yards in front of the brigade, +which was posted behind the old railroad. Thick woods were all +around us. Soon the blue skirmishers came in sight, and we began +firing. The Federals sprang at once to trees and began popping away +at us. The range was close. Grant was mortally hit. My group of +four on that day was reduced to one man. Goettee fell, and Godley. +We kept up the fight. But now a blue line of battle could be seen +advancing behind the skirmishers. They kept coming, reserving their +fire until they should pass beyond their skirmish-line. We should +have withdrawn at once, but waited until the line of battle had +reached the skirmishers before we were ordered to fall back. When +we began to retire, the line of battle opened upon us, and we lost +some men.</p> +<p>Company H formed in its place on the left of the First, which +was now the left regiment of the brigade, of the division, and of +the corps. Company H was in the air at the left of Jackson's +line.</p> +<p>General Lee had planned to place Jackson's corps in rear of +Pope's army, without severing communication with Longstreet; but +the developments of the campaign had thrown Jackson between Pope +and Washington while yet the corps of Longstreet was two days' +march behind, and beyond the Bull Run mountains. Pope had made +dispositions to crush Jackson; to delay Longstreet he occupied with +a division Thoroughfare Gap,--through which Jackson had marched and +I had straggled on the 26th,--and with his other divisions had +marched on Manassas. Jackson had thus been forced to retreat toward +the north in order to gain time. When Hill's division reached +Centreville, it turned west, as already related, and while Pope was +marching on Centreville Jackson was marching to get nearer +Longstreet. This placed Ricketts's division of Pope's army, which +had occupied Thoroughfare Gap for the purpose of preventing the +passage of Longstreet, between Longstreet and Jackson. Ricketts was +thus forced to yield the gap after having delayed Longstreet during +the night of the 28th. Pope could now have retired to Washington +without a battle, but he decided to overwhelm Jackson before +Longstreet could reach the field, and attacked hotly on the +Confederate left.</p> +<p>The battle of Friday, the 29th of August, was fought then in +consequence of the double motive already hinted at, namely, that of +Pope to overwhelm Jackson, and of Jackson to resist and hold Pope +until Longstreet came. Jackson's manoeuvres had brought him within +six hours' march of Longstreet, and while Jackson's men were dying +in the woods, Longstreet's iron men, covered with dust and sweat, +were marching with rapid and long strides to the sound of battle in +their front, where, upon their comrades at bay, Pope was throwing +division after division into the fight.</p> +<p>Upon the left of Company H was a small open field, enclosed by a +rail fence; the part of the field nearest us was unplanted; the far +side of the field--that nearest the enemy--was in corn. The left of +our line did not extend quite to the fence, but at some times in +the battle we were forced to gather at the fence and fire upon the +Federals advancing through the field to turn our left.</p> +<p>Company H had hardly formed in its position upon the extreme +left before the shouts of the Federal line of battle told of their +coming straight through the woods upon us. They reached the +undergrowth which bordered the farther side of the railroad way. +The orders of their officers could be heard. We lay in the open +woods, each man behind a tree as far as was possible; but the trees +were too few. The dense bushes, which had grown up in the edge of +the railroad way, effectually concealed the enemy. We were hoping +for them to come on and get into view, but they remained in the +bushes and poured volley after volley into our ranks. We returned +their fire as well as we could, but knew that many of our shots +would be wasted, as we could rarely have definite aim, except at +the line of smoke in the thick bushes.</p> +<p>Now the firing ceased, and we thought that the enemy had +retired; but if they had done so, it was only to give place to a +fresh body of troops, which opened upon us a new and terrific fire. +We had nothing to do but to endure and fire into the bushes. If our +line had attempted to cross the railroad, not one of us would have +reached it; the Federals also were afraid to advance.</p> +<p>Again there came a lull in the fight, but, as before, it was +only premonitory of another tempest of balls. How many attacks we +stood that day nobody on our side clearly knew. Again the Federal +lines gave way, or were relieved. Our line still held. The woods +were thick with dead. Comstock was dead. Bail was dead. Bee and Box +were dead. Joe Bellot was fearfully wounded. Many had been carried +to the rear, and many yet lay bleeding in our ranks, waiting to be +taken out when the fight ceased. Each man lay behind the best tree +he could get; the trees had become more plentiful. We fired lying, +kneeling, standing, sometimes running; but the line held. If we had +had but the smallest breastwork!--but we had none.</p> +<p>In the afternoon the Federals tried more than once to throw a +force around our left--through the open field; but each time they +were driven back by our oblique fire, helped by a battery which we +could not see, somewhere in our rear. I now suppose that before +this time Longstreet had formed on Jackson's right; the sounds of +great fighting came from the east and southeast.</p> +<p>We had resisted long enough. Our cartridges were gone, although +our boxes had more than once been replenished, and we had used up +the cartridges of our wounded and dead.</p> +<p>Just before the sun went down, the woods suddenly became alive +with Yankees. A deafening volley was poured upon our weakened +ranks,--no longer ranks, but mere clusters of men,--but the shots +went high; before the smoke lifted, the blue men were upon us; they +had not waited to reload.</p> +<p>Many of our men had not a cartridge, but the enemy were so near +that every shot told.</p> +<p>Their line is thinned; they come still, but in disconnected +groups; they are almost in our midst; straight toward me comes a +towering man--his sleeves show the stripes of a sergeant. His great +form and his long red hair are not more conspicuous than the vigour +of his bearing. He makes no pause. He strikes right and left. Men +fall away from him. Our group is scattering, some to gain time to +load, others in flight. The great sergeant rushes toward me; his +gun rises again in his mighty hands, and the blow descends. I slip +aside; the force of the blow almost carries him to the ground, but +he recovers; he comes again; again he swings his gun back over his +shoulder, his eyes fixed upon my head where he will strike. I raise +my gun above my head--at the parry. Suddenly his expression +yields--a look as if of astonishment succeeds to fixed +determination--and at the same instant his countenance passes +through an indescribable change as the blood spouts from his +forehead and he falls lifeless at my feet, slain by a shot from my +rear<a name="FNanchor7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7">[7]</a>.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor7">[7]</a> +The attack at sunset described by Mr. Berwick was made by Grover's +brigade, of Hooker's division, and succeeded in driving back +Gregg's worn-out men, who were at once relieved by Early's brigade +of Ewell's division. [ED.]</blockquote> +<p>Confusion is everywhere. Ones, twos, groups, are beginning to +flee from either side. Here and there a small body of men yet hold +fast and fight. The shouting is more than the firing. At my right I +see our flag, and near it a flag of the Federals.</p> +<p>In a moment comes a new line of the enemy; our ranks--what is +left of them--must yield. We begin to run. I hear Dominic +Spellman--colour-bearer of the First--cry out, "Jones, for God's +sake, stop!" I turn. A few have rallied and are bringing out the +flag. Our line is gone--broken--and Jackson's left is crumbling +away. Defeat is here--in a handbreadth of us--and Pope's star will +shine the brightest over America; but now from our rear a +Confederate yell rises high and shrill through the bullet-scarred +forest, and a fresh brigade advances at the charge, relieves the +vanquished troops of Gregg, and rolls far back the Federal tide of +war. It was none too soon.</p> +<p>On the morning of the 29th of August thirty-one men had answered +roll-call in Company H. On the morning of the 30th but thirteen +responded; we had lost none as prisoners.</p> +<p>The 30th was Saturday. The division was to have remained in +reserve. We were yet lying in the woods, some hundreds of yards in +the rear of our position of the 29th, and details were burying our +dead, when we were ordered to form. We marched some distance to the +left. A low grass-covered meadow was in our front, with a rail +fence at the woods about three hundred yards from us. Bullets came +amongst us from the fence at the woods, toward which we were +marching in column of fours, right in front. I heard the order from +Major McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and Haskell +repeated--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>On the right--by +file--into line--MARCH</i>!" This manoeuvre brought the regiment +into column of companies still marching in its former direction, +Company H being the rear of all.</p> +<p>Again I heard McCrady--"<i>Battalion--by companies</i>!" and +Haskell again--"<i>Company H</i>!"--then McCrady--"<i>Left--half +wheel</i>!" and Haskell--"<i>Left wheel</i>!"--then +McCrady--"<i>Forward into line</i>," and both +voices--"<i>Double-quick</i>--MARCH!"</p> +<p>It was a beautiful manoeuvre, performed as it was under a close +fire and by men battle-sick and void of vanity. The respective +companies executed simultaneously their work, and as their +graduated distances demanded, rushed forward, with a speed +constantly increasing toward the left company, Company H, which +wheeled and ran to place, forming at the fence from which the enemy +fled. We lost Major McCrady, who fell severely wounded.</p> +<p>For the remainder of that bloody day the First was not engaged. +We heard the great battle between Lee and Pope, but took no further +part.</p> +<p>On the first of September, as night was falling, we were lying +under fire, in a storm of rain, in the battle of Ox Hill, or +Chantilly as the Yankees call it. The regiment did not become +engaged.</p> +<p>The campaign of eight days was over.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVII"></a>XXVII</h2> +<h3>CAPTAIN HASKELL</h3> +<center>"Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting.<br> + The soul that rises with us, our life's Star,<br> +Hath had elsewhere its setting,<br> + And cometh from afar;<br> + Not in entire forgetfulness,<br> + And not in utter nakedness,<br> +But trailing clouds of glory do we come<br> +From God who is our home."--WORDSWORTH.</center> +<br> +<p>I believe I have already said that in the battle of Manassas Joe +Bellot was severely wounded. My companion gone, I messed and slept +alone.</p> +<p>For a day or two we rested, or moved but short distances. On one +of these days, the company being on picket, the Captain ordered me +to accompany him in a round of the vedettes. While this duty was +being done, he spoke not a word except to the sentinels whom he +ordered in clear-cut speech to maintain strict vigilance. When the +duty had ended, he turned to me and said, "Let us go to that tree +yonder."</p> +<p>The point he thus designated was just in rear of our left--- +that is, the left of Company H's vedettes--and overlooked both +vedettes and pickets, so far as they could be seen for the +irregularities of ground. Arriving at the tree, the Captain threw +off all official reserve.</p> +<p>"Friday was hard on Company H," he said; "and the whole company +did its full duty, if I may say so without immodesty."</p> +<p>"Captain," I replied, "I thought it was all over with us when +the Yankees made that last charge."</p> +<p>"As you rightly suggest, sir, we should have been relieved +earlier," said he; "I am informed that in the railroad cut, a +little to the right of our position, the men fought the enemy with +stones for lack of cartridges."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I have heard that. Can you predict our next +movement?"</p> +<p>"I know too little of strategy to do that," he said; "but I am +convinced that we cannot remain where we are."</p> +<p>"Why?" I asked.</p> +<p>"I venture the opinion that we are too far from our supplies. I +am told that we cannot maintain the railroad back to Gordonsville. +The bridges are burnt; I doubt that any steps will be taken to +rebuild them, as they would be constantly in danger from the +enemy's cavalry. I am informed that McClellan's whole army, as well +as Burnside's corps from North Carolina, has joined Pope; General +McClellan is said to be in command. If Pope's army, which we have +just fought, was larger than ours, then McClellan's combined forces +must be more than twice as great as General Lee's."</p> +<p>"Yet some of the men think we shall advance on Washington," said +I.</p> +<p>"The men discuss everything, naturally," he replied; "I +speculate also. It seems to me that every mile of a further advance +would but take from our strength and add to that of our enemy's. If +we could seize Washington by a sudden advance--but we cannot do +that, I think, and as for a siege, I suppose nobody thinks of it. +Even to sit down here could do us no good, I imagine; our +communications would be always interrupted."</p> +<p>"Then we shall retreat after having gained a great victory?" I +asked.</p> +<p>"It would give me great pleasure to be able to tell you. I am +puzzled," he replied. "The victory may be regarded as an +opportunity to gain time for the South to recuperate, if we make +prudent demonstrations; but an actual advance does not appear +possible. General Lee may make a show of advancing; I dare say we +could gain time by a pretence of strength. Does not such manoeuvre +meet your view? But we are fearfully weak, and our enemies know it +or should know it."</p> +<p>I understood well enough that the Captain's question was but an +instance of his unfailing habit of courtesy.</p> +<p>"Then what is there for us to do? If we ought not to stay here, +and ought not to advance on Washington, and ought not to retreat, +what other course is possible?"</p> +<p>"There seems but one, sir. I hear that the best opinion leans to +the belief that General Lee will cross the Potomac in order to take +Harper's Ferry and to test the sentiment of the Maryland +people."</p> +<p>"What is at Harper's Ferry, Captain?"</p> +<p>"I am informed that there is a great quantity of supplies and a +considerable garrison."</p> +<p>"But could such an effort succeed in the face of an army like +McClellan's?"</p> +<p>"If the Federals abandon the place, as they ought to do at once, +I should think that there would then be no good reason for this +army's crossing the river. But military success is said to be +obtained, in the majority of cases, from the mistakes of the +losers. It might be that we could take Harper's Ferry at very +little cost; and even if we should fail, we should be prolonging +the campaign upon ground that we cannot hope to occupy permanently, +and living, in a sense, upon the enemy. What I fear, however, is +that the movement would bring on another general engagement; and I +think you will agree with me in believing that we are not prepared +for that."</p> +<p>"Harper's Ferry is the place John Brown took," said I.</p> +<p>"You are right, sir; do you remember that?"</p> +<p>"That is the last thing that I remember reading about--the last +experience I can remember at all; but in the light last Friday +there happened something which gives me a turn whenever I think of +it."</p> +<p>"May I ask what it was?"</p> +<p>"I saw a spot which I am sure--almost sure--I had seen +before."</p> +<p>"Some resemblance, I dare say. I often pass scenes that are +typical. Near my father's home I know one spot which I have seen in +twenty other places."</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; I know," said I. "But it was not merely the physical +features of the place that awoke recognition."</p> +<p>"Oblige me by telling me all about it," he said kindly.</p> +<p>"You remember the position to which the four companies advanced +as skirmishers?"</p> +<p>"Distinctly. We did very well to get away from it," said the +Captain.</p> +<p>"And you remember the order to fall back?"</p> +<p>"Certainly, since I took the initiative."</p> +<p>"Well, I did not hear the order. I suppose that I fired at the +very moment, and that the noise of my gun prevented my hearing it. +At any rate, a few moments afterward I saw that I was alone, and +retreated as skilfully as I knew how. The company was out of sight. +I saw some signs of water, and soon found a branch, at a place +which impressed me so strongly that for a moment I forgot even that +the battle was going on. I am almost certain that I had quenched my +thirst at that spot once before. Besides, there was an +extraordinary--"</p> +<p>"Jones," interrupted the Captain, "you may have been in the +first battle of Manassas. Why not? But if you saw the place in last +year's battle, you came upon it from the east or the south. The +positions of the armies the other day were almost opposite their +positions last year. In sixty-one the Federals had almost our +position of last Friday. It will be well to find out what South +Carolina troops were in the first battle. By the way, General Bee, +who was killed there, was from South Carolina; I will ask Aleck to +tell us what regiments were in Bee's brigade."</p> +<p>"Captain," said I, "when I saw that spot I felt as though I had +been there in some former life."</p> +<p>"Yes? I have had such feelings. More than once I have had a +thought or have seen a face or a landscape that impressed me with +such an idea."</p> +<p>"Do you believe in a succession of lives?"</p> +<p>"I cannot say that I do," he replied; "but your question +surprises me, sir. May I ask if you remember reading of such +subjects?"</p> +<p>"No, I do not, Captain; but I know that the thought must have +once been familiar to me."</p> +<p>"I dare say you have read some romance," said he "or, there is +no telling, you may have known some one who believed, the doctrine; +you may have believed it yourself. And I doubt that mere reading +would have influenced your mind to attach itself so strongly to +thoughtful subjects. I find you greatly interested philosophy. I +think it quite probable, sir, without flattery, that at college +your professor had an apt student."</p> +<p>"But you do not believe the doctrine?"</p> +<p>"I believe in Christ and His holy apostles, sir; I believe that +we live after death."</p> +<p>"And that I shall be I again and again?"</p> +<p>"Pardon me for not following you entirely. I believe that you +will be you again; but my opinion is not fixed as to more than one +death."</p> +<p>"Do you believe that when you live again you will remember your +former experiences?"</p> +<p>"I lean to that belief, sir, yet I consider it unimportant; I +might go so far as to say that it makes no difference."</p> +<p>"But how can I be I if I do not remember? What will connect the +past me with the present me? I have a strange, elusive thought +there, Captain. It sometimes seems to me that I am two,--one +before, and another now,--and that really I have lived this present +time, or these present times, in two bodies and with two +minds."</p> +<p>"Allow me to ask if it is not possible that your strange thought +as to your imagined doubleness is caused by your believing that +memory is necessary to identity?"</p> +<p>"And that is error?" I asked.</p> +<p>"You say truly, sir; it is error. Your own experience disproves +it. If memory is necessary, you have lost your personality; but you +have a personality,--permit me to say a strong one,--and whose have +you taken?"</p> +<p>"I do remember some things," said I.</p> +<p>"Then do you not agree with me that your very memory is proof +that you are not double? But, if you please, take the case of any +one. Every one has been an infant, yet he cannot remember what +happened when he was in swaddling clothes, though he is the same +person now that he was then, which proves that although a person +loses his memory, he does not on that account, sir, lose his +identity."</p> +<p>"Then what is the test of identity, Captain?"</p> +<p>"It needs none, sir; consciousness of self is involuntary."</p> +<p>"I have consciousness of self; yet I do not know who I am, +except that I am I."</p> +<p>"Every man might say the same words, sir," said he, smiling.</p> +<p>"And I am distinct? independent?"</p> +<p>"Jones, my dear fellow, there are many intelligent people in the +world who, I dare say, would think us demented if they should know +that we are seriously considering such a question."</p> +<p>This did not seem very much of an answer to my mind, which in +some inscrutable way seemed to be at this moment groping among +fragments of thoughts that had come unbidden from the forgotten +past. I felt helpless in the presence of the Captain; I could not +presume to press his good-nature. Perhaps he saw my thought, for he +added: "A man is distinct from other men, but not from himself. He +constantly changes, and constantly remains the same."</p> +<p>"That is hard to understand, Captain."</p> +<p>"Everything, sir, is hard to understand, because everything +means every other thing. If we could fully comprehend one thing, +even the least,--if there be a least,--we should necessarily +comprehend all things," said the Captain.</p> +<p>Then he talked at large of the relations that bind +everything--and of matter, force, spirit, which he called a +trinity.</p> +<p>"Then matter is of the same nature with God?" I asked; "and God +has the properties of matter?"</p> +<p>"By no means, sir. God has none of the properties of matter. +Even our minds, sir, which are more nearly like unto God than is +anything else we conceive, have no properties like matter. Yet are +we bound to matter, and our thoughts are limited."</p> +<p>"How can the mind contemplate God at all?"</p> +<p>"By pure reason only, sir. The imagination betrays. We try to +image force, because we think that we succeed in imaging matter. We +try to image spirit. I suppose that most people have a notion as to +how God looks. Anything that has not extension is as nothing to our +imagination. Yet we know that our minds are real, though we cannot +attribute extension to mind. Divisibility is of matter; if the +infinite mind has parts, then infinity is divisible--which is a +contradiction."</p> +<p>"Then God has no properties?"</p> +<p>"Not in the sense that matter has, sir. If God has one of them, +He has all of them. If we attribute extension to Him, we must +attribute elasticity also, and all of them. But try to think of an +elastic universal."</p> +<p>"Captain, you said a while ago that everything is matter, force, +and spirit. Do you place force as something intermediate between +God and matter?"</p> +<p>"Certainly, sir; force is above matter, and mind is above +force."</p> +<p>"I have heard that force is similar to matter in that nothing of +it can be lost," said I.</p> +<p>"When and where did you hear that?" asked the Captain, looking +at me fixedly, almost sternly.</p> +<p>The question almost brought me to my feet. When and where +<i>had</i> I heard it? My attention had been so fastened on the +Captain's philosophy that it now seemed to me that I had become +unguarded, and that from outside of me a thought had been sent into +my mind by some unknown power; I could not know whence the thought +had come. I had suddenly felt that I had heard the theory in +question. I knew that, the moment before, I could not have said +what I did. But I had spoken naturally, and without feeling that I +was undergoing an experience. I stared back at Captain Haskell. +Then I became aware of the fact that at the moment when I had +spoken I had known consciously when it was and where it was that I +had heard the theory, and I felt almost sure that if I had spoken +differently, if I had only said, "From Mr. Such-a-one, or at such a +place or time, I had heard the theory," I should now have a clew to +something. But the flash had vanished.</p> +<p>"It is lost," I said.</p> +<p>"I am sorry," said he.</p> +<p>"It is like the J.B. on the broken gun," said I.</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon?"</p> +<p>"I did not finish, telling you of my experience at that spot +where I got water last Friday. Right in that spot was a broken gun +with J.B. on the stock."</p> +<p>"Are you sure, Jones?"</p> +<p>"I picked up both pieces of the gun and looked at them +closely."</p> +<p>"Perhaps your seeing J.B. on the gun gave rise to your other +reflections."</p> +<p>"Not at all; the gun came last, not first."</p> +<p>"What you are telling me is very remarkable," said the Captain; +"you almost make me believe that you are right in saying that your +name is Jones Berwick. However, J.B. is no uncommon combination of +initials. Suppose Lieutenant Barnwell had found the gun."</p> +<p>"If he had found J.G.B. on it, he would have wondered," said +I.</p> +<p>"True; but do you know that J.G.B. is many times more difficult +than J.B.?"</p> +<p>"No, Captain; I hardly think so; these are the days of three +initials."</p> +<p>"Yes, you are right in that," he said.</p> +<p>"And I know I am right about my name." said I.</p> +<p>"Still, the whole affair may be a compound of coincidences. We +have three--or did have three--other men in the company whose +initials are J.B.,--Bail, Box, and Butler. Of course you could not +recognize your own work in the lettering?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; anybody might have cut those letters; just as anybody +might imitate print. And I think, Captain, that there is not +another J.B. in Lee's army who would have supposed for an instant +that he had any connection with that gun."</p> +<p>"Suppose, then, that I call you Berwick hereafter?"</p> +<p>"No, I thank you, Captain. I'd rather be to you Jones than +Berwick. Beside, if you should change now, it would cause +remark."</p> +<p>"I think I shall ask my brother Aleck to find out what South +Carolina regiments were in the first battle of Manassas," said he. +"You may go with me to see him to-night if you will."</p> +<p>That night Captain A.C. Haskell, the assistant adjutant-general, +was able to inform me that Bee's brigade had not been composed of +troops from South Carolina, although General Bee himself was from +that state. After hearing my description of the place which I +thought I had revisited, he expressed the opinion that no +Confederate troops at all had reached the spot in the battle of +sixty-one. The place, he said, was more than a mile from the +position of the Confederate army in the battle; still, he admitted, +many scattered Federals retreated over the ground which interested +me so greatly, and it was possible that some Confederates had been +over it to seek plunder or for other purposes; but as for pursuit, +there had been none. I asked if it could have been possible for me +to be a prisoner on that day and to be led away to the rear of the +Federals. "If so," he replied, "you would not have been allowed to +keep or to break your gun. Moreover, the whole army lost in missing +too few men to base such a theory on; the loss was just a baker's +dozen in both Beauregard's and Johnston's forces. For my part, I +think it more likely that, if you were there at all, you were there +as a scout, or as a vedette. General Evans--Old Shanks, the boys +call him--began the battle with the Fourth South Carolina. He was +at Stone Bridge, and found out before nine o'clock that McDowell +had turned our left and was marching down from Sudley. You might +have been sent out to watch the enemy; yet I am confident that +Evans would have used his cavalry for that purpose, for he had a +company of cavalry in his command. A more plausible guess might be +that you were out foraging that morning and got cut off. I will +look up the Fourth South Carolina for you, and try to learn +something. Yet the whole thing is very vague, and I should not +advise you to hope for anything from it. I am now convinced that +you did not originally belong to this brigade. You would have been +recognized long ago. By the way, I have had a thought in connection +with your case. You ought to write to the hotel in Aiken and find +out who you are."</p> +<p>"I wonder why I never thought of that!" I exclaimed. "I suppose +that a letter addressed to the manager would answer."</p> +<p>"Certainly."</p> +<p>"But--" I began.</p> +<p>"But what?"</p> +<p>"If I write, what can I say? Can I sign a letter asking an +unknown man to tell me who I am?"</p> +<p>"Write it and sign it Berwick Jones," said Captain Haskell, who +by this speech seemed to give full belief that my name was reversed +on the roll of his company.</p> +<p>As we walked back to our bivouac that night I asked the Captain +whether, in the improbable event of our finding that I had belonged +to the Fourth, I could not still serve with Company H. He was +pleased, evidently, by this question, and said that he should +certainly try to hold me if I wished to remain with him, and should +hope to be able to do so, as transfers were frequently granted, and +as an application from me would come with peculiar force when the +circumstances should be made known at headquarters. Of course, +there would be no difficulty unless the application should be +disapproved by my company commander, that is, the commander of my +original company.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I wrote a letter, addressed "Manager of Hotel, Aiken, S.C." +inquiring if a man named Jones Berwick had been a guest at his +house about October 17, 1859, and if so, whether it was possible to +learn from the hotel register, or from any other known source, the +home of said Berwick.</p> +<p>To anticipate; it may be said here that no answer ever came.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXVIII"></a>XXVIII</h2> +<h3>BEYOND THE POTOMAC</h3> +<center>"Thus far our fortune keeps an upward course,<br> +And we are graced with wreaths of victory;<br> +But, in the midst of this bright-shining day,<br> +I spy a black, suspicious, threat'ning cloud,<br> +That will encounter with our glorious sun."<br> +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>We left the position near Fairfax Court-House early in +September, and marched northward, crossing the Potomac on the 5th +at White's Ford near Edwards's Ferry. We reached Fredericktown in +Maryland about midday of the 6th, after a fatiguing tramp which, +for the time, was too hard for me. My wound had again given me +trouble; while wading the Potomac I noticed fresh blood on the +scar.</p> +<p>We rested at Fredericktown for three or four days. One morning +Owens of Company H, while quietly cooking at his fire, suddenly +fell back and began kicking and foaming at the mouth. We ran to +him, but could do nothing to help him. He struggled for a few +moments and became rigid. Some man ran for the surgeon; I thought +there was no sense in going for help when all was over. The surgeon +came and soon got Owens upon his feet. This incident made a deep +impression on me. It seemed a forcible illustration of the trite +sayings: "Never give up," "While there's life there's hope," and it +became to me a source of frequent encouragement.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the 10th we marched westward from Fredericktown. In the gap +of the Catoctin Mountains we came in sight of the most beautiful +valley, dotted with farms and villages. Where the enemy was, nobody +seamed to know.</p> +<p>We passed through Middletown and Boonsboro, and recrossed the +Potomac at Williamsport, where we learned definitely that +Longstreet's wing of the army had been held in Maryland. We marched +southward to Martinsburg. The inhabitants were greatly rejoiced, +and were surprised to find Confederate troops coming amongst them +from the north. At Martinsburg were many evidences that we were +near the enemy. Captain Haskell said that it was now clear that Lee +intended to take Harper's Ferry, and that Longstreet's retention on +the north side of the Potomac was part of the plan. We destroyed +the railroad near Martinsburg, moving along it toward the east. +Late in the forenoon of the 13th we came in sight of Harper's +Ferry. The short siege of the place had already been begun; cannon +from our front and from a mountain side on our right were throwing +shells into the enemy's lines, and the enemy's batteries were +replying.</p> +<p>On the night of the 14th Gregg's brigade marched to the right. +We found a narrow road running down the river,--the +Shenandoah,--and moved on cautiously. There were strict orders to +preserve silence. The guns were uncapped, to prevent an accidental +discharge. In the middle of the night we moved out of the road and +began to climb the hill on our left; it was very steep and rough; +we pulled ourselves up by the bushes. Pioneers cut a way for the +artillery, and lines of men drew the guns with ropes.</p> +<p>When morning came our guns commanded the intrenchments of the +enemy. Our batteries were in full action, the brigade in line of +battle. The enemy replies with all his guns, but they were soon +silenced. A brigade at our left seemed ready to advance; the +enemy's artillery opened afresh. Then from our left a battery +stormed forward to a new position much nearer to the enemy. We were +ordered to fix bayonets and the line began to advance, but was at +once halted. Harper's Ferry had been surrendered, with eleven +thousand prisoners and seventy pieces of artillery, and munitions +in great quantity.</p> +<p>We had been hearing at intervals, for the last day or two, +far-off sounds of artillery toward the north. On the night after +the surrender, A.P. Hill's men knew that theirs was the only +division at Harper's Ferry, the two other divisions of Jackson's +corps having marched away, some said to the help of Longstreet on +the north side of the Potomac; then we felt that some great event +was near, and we wondered whether it should befall us to remain +distant from the army during a great engagement.</p> +<p>The 16th passed tranquilly. Sounds of artillery could be heard +in the north and northwest, but we had nothing to do but to rest in +position while our details worked in organizing the captured +property. The prisoners were not greatly downcast. We learned that +they were to be released on parole. Crowds of them had gathered +along the roads on the 15th to see Stonewall Jackson whenever he +rode by, and they seemed to admire him no less than his own men +did. Late in the afternoon the regiment marched out of the lines of +Harper's Ferry and bivouacked for the night some two miles to the +west of the town.</p> +<p>On the 17th the division was put in motion on a road running up +the Potomac. The march began, at sunrise. Soon the sounds of battle +were heard far in front, and the step was lengthened. The day was +hot, and the road was dusty. Frequently we went at double-quick. +About one o'clock we waded the Potomac below Shepherdstown. Beyond +the river the march turned northeast--a rapid march; many men had +fallen out before we reached the river; now many more began to +straggle. All the while the roar of a great battle extended across +our front, mostly in our left front. We passed through a village +called Sharpsburg. Its streets were encumbered with wagons, +ambulances, stragglers, wounded men, and all the horrid results of +war that choke the roads in rear of an army engaged in a great +battle.</p> +<p>Beyond the village we turned to the right. We marched up one +side of a hill and down the other side. On the slope of the +opposite hill we halted, some of the troops being protected by a +stone fence. The noise of battle was everywhere, and increasing at +our right, almost on our right flank. Wounded men were streaming +by; the litter-bearers were busy. Nothing is so hard to bear as +waiting while in expectation of being called on to restore a lost +battle from which the wounded and dead are being carried. Our time +was near.</p> +<p>Thick corn was growing on the hillside above us. General Gregg +dismounted. His orders reached our ears and were repeated by the +colonels and the captains. We were to advance.</p> +<p>While Jackson had marched south from Maryland in order to effect +the capture of Harper's Ferry, Longstreet had retired before +McClellan, who had collected an immense army and had advanced. The +North had risen at the first news that Lee had crossed the Potomac +and McClellan's army, vast as it was, yet continued to receive +reinforcements almost daily; his army was perhaps stronger than it +had been before his disastrous campaign of the Chickahominy, his +troops on James River had marched down the Peninsula and had been +taken in transports to Fredericksburg and Alexandria. Porter's and +Heintzelman's corps of McClellan's army had fought under Pope in +the second battle of Manassas. Now McClellan had his own army, +Pope's army, Burnside's corps, and all other troops that could be +got to his help. To delay this army until Jackson could seize +Harper's Ferry had been the duty intrusted to Longstreet and his +lieutenants. But Longstreet with his twenty thousand were now in +danger of being overwhelmed. On the 15th, in the afternoon of the +surrender at Harper's Ferry, two of Jackson's divisions had marched +to 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.</p> +<p>McClellan knew the danger to Harper's Ferry and knew of the +separation of the Confederate forces. A copy of General Lee's +special order outlining his movements had fallen into General +McClellan's hands. This order was dated September 9th; it gave +instructions to Jackson to seize Harper's Ferry, and it directed +the movements of Longstreet. With this information, General +McClellan pressed on after Longstreet; he ordered General Franklin +to carry Crampton's Gap and advance to the relief of Harper's +Perry.</p> +<p>On Sunday, the 14th, McClellan's advanced divisions attacked +D.H. Hill's division in a gap of South Mountain, near Boonsboro, +and Franklin carried Crampton's Gap, farther to the south. Though +both of these attacks were successful, the resistance of the +Confederates had in each case been sufficient to gain time for +Jackson. On the 15th Harper's Ferry surrendered, and McClellan +continued to advance; Longstreet prepared for battle.</p> +<p>The next day, at nightfall, the Federals were facing Lee's army, +the Antietam creek flowing between the hostile ranks.</p> +<p>At 3 P.M. of the 17th, A.P. Hill's division, after a forced +march of seventeen miles, and after fording the Potomac, found +itself in front of the left wing of the Federal army,--consisting +of Burnside's corps,--which had already brushed away the opposition +in its front, and was now advancing to seize the ford at +Shepherdstown and cut off Lee from the Potomac.</p> +<p>A.P. Hill rode into battle at the head of his division. The few +brigades which, had been opposed to Burnside had offered a stout +resistance, but, too weak to resist long, had fallen back to our +right. Into the gap we were ordered. In the edge of the corn a +rabbit jumped up and ran along in front of the line; a few shots +were fired at it by some excited men on our left. These shots +seemed the signal for the Federals to show themselves; they were in +the corn, advancing upon us while we were moving upon them. There +were three lines of them. Our charge broke their first line; it +fell back on the second and both ran; the third line stood. We +advanced through the corn, firing and shouting. The third line +fired, then broke; now we stood where it had stood, on the top of +the hill. A descending slope was before us, then a hollow--- also +in thick corn--and an open ascent beyond. Behind the brow of this +next hill a Federal battery made its presence felt by its fire +only, as the guns and men were almost entirely covered. This +battery was perhaps four hundred yards from us, and almost directly +in front of the left wing of the First. The corn on our slope and +in the hollow was full of Federals running in disorder. We loaded +and fired, and loaded and fired. Soon the naked slope opposite was +dotted with fleeing men. We loaded and fired, and loaded and +fired.</p> +<p>In a thick row of corn at the bottom of the hill I saw a bayonet +glitter. The bayonet was erect, at the height of the large blades +of corn. The owner of the bayonet had squatted in the corn; he was +afraid to run out upon the naked hillside behind him, and he had +not thought too well. He had kept his gun in his hand, with the +butt on the ground, and the sun's rays betrayed him. Nothing could +be seen but the bayonet. I fired at the ground below the bayonet. +The bayonet fell.</p> +<p>An officer was riding back and forth on the open hillside, a +gallant officer rallying his men. None would stop; it was death to +stop. He threatened, and almost struck the men, but they would run +on as soon as his back was turned. They were right to run at this +moment, and he was wrong in trying to form on the naked slope. +Beyond the hilltop was the place to rally, and the men knew it, and +the gallant officer did not. He rode from group to group of fleeing +men as they streamed up the hill. He was a most conspicuous target. +Many shots were fired at him, but he continued to ride and to storm +at the men and to wave his sword. Suddenly his head went down, his +body doubled up, and he lay stretched on the ground. The riderless +horse galloped off a few yards, then returned to his master, bent +his head to the prostrate man, and fell almost upon him.</p> +<p>The Federal infantry could now be seen nowhere in our front. On +our left they began to develop and to advance, and on the right the +sound of heavy fighting was yet heard. The enemy continued to +develop from our left until they were uncovered in our front. They +advanced, right and left; just upon our own position the pressure +was not yet great, but we felt that the Twelfth regiment, which +joined us on our left, must soon yield to greatly superior numbers, +and would carry our flank with it when it went. The fight now raged +hotter than before. I saw Captain Parker, of Company K, near to us. +His face was a mass of blood--his jaw broken. The regiment was so +small that, although Company H was on its left, I saw Sam Wigg, a +corporal of the colour-guard, fall--death in his face. Then the +Twelfth South Carolina charged, and for a while the pressure upon +us was relieved; but the Twelfth charged too far, and, while +driving the enemy in its front, was soon overlapped, and flanked. +Upon its exposed flank the bullets fell and it crumbled; in +retiring, it caught the left of the First, and Company H fell back. +Now the enemy moved on the First from the front and the regiment +retired hastily through the corn, and formed easily again at the +stone fence from which it had advanced at the beginning of the +contest. The battle was over. The enemy came no farther, and the +fords of the Potomac remained to Lee.</p> +<p>All the night of the 17th and the day of the 18th we lay in +position. A few shells flew over us at irregular intervals, and we +were in hourly expectation of a renewal of the battle, but the +Federals did not advance. By daylight on the morning of the 19th we +were once more in Virginia.</p> +<p>While A.P. Hill's division had suffered but small loss in the +battle of Sharpsburg, and while our part in the battle had been +fortunate, it was clear that Lee's army as a whole had barely +escaped a great disaster. I have always thought that McClellan had +it in his power on the 18th of September to bring the war to an +end. Lee had fought the battle with a force not exceeding forty +thousand men, and had lost nearly a third. McClellan, on the 18th, +was fully three times as strong as Lee; but he waited a full day, +and gave the Confederates opportunity to cross, almost leisurely, +the difficult river in their rear.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>A.P. Hill's division went into bivouac some five miles south of +Shepherdstown.</p> +<p>On the morning of the 20th the warning rumble of the long roll +called us once again to action. We were marched rapidly back to the +Potomac. Firing could be heard in front, and wounded men could be +seen here and there. Men said that in the night McClellan had +thrown a force to the south side of the river, and had surprised +and taken some of our artillery. As we drew near the river, we +could see the smoke of cannon in action spouting from the farther +side, and from our side came the crackling of musketry fire.</p> +<p>The division was formed for battle; we were to advance in two +lines of three brigades each, General Gregg in command of the first +line. Orr's Rifle regiment was thrown forward as skirmishers and +advanced to the river bank. The division moved behind the +skirmishers. The ground was open. We marched down a slope covered +with corn in part, and reached a bare and undulating field that +stretched to the trees bordering the river. As soon as the division +had passed the corn, the Federal batteries north of the Potomac +began to work upon our ranks. The first shots flew a little above +us. We were marching at a quick time, keeping well the alignment. +The next shots struck the ground in front of us and exploded--with +what effect I could not see. And now the enemy had our range and +made use of the time. Before us, about three hundred yards, was a +depression of the ground, with a low ascending hill beyond. Shells +burst over us, beyond us, in front of us, amongst us, as we marched +on at quick time. We reached the hollow and were ordered to lie +down. The sun was oppressive. The troops had scant room in the +hollow; they hugged the earth thick. Shells would burst at the +crown of the low hill ten steps in front and throw iron everywhere. +The aim of the Federal gunners was horribly true.</p> +<p>We were cramped with lying long in one position; no water. +Behind us came a brigade down the slope--flags flying, shells +bursting in the ranks. Down the hill that we had come they now were +coming in their turn, losing men at every step. The shells flew far +above us to strike this new and exposed line. Behind us came the +brigade; right against Company H came the centre of a regiment. The +red flag was marching straight. The regiment reached our hollow; +there was no room; it flanked to the left by fours; a shell struck +the colour-group; the flag leaped in the air and fell amongst four +dead men. A little pause, and the flag was again alive, and the +regiment had passed to the left, seeking room.</p> +<p>For hours we lay under the hot sun and the hotter fire. The +fight had long since ended, but we were held fast by the Federal +batteries. To rise and march out would be to lose many men +uselessly.</p> +<p>A shell burst at the top of the rise. Another came, and I felt +my hat fly off; it was torn on the edge of the brim. Again, and a +great pain seized my shoulder and a more dreadful one my hip. I was +hit, but how badly I did not know. The pain in my hip was such +agony that I feared to look. Since our great loss at Manassas, I +was the tallest man in Company H, and the Captain was lying very +near to me. I said to him that I was done for. "What!" said he, +"again? You must break that habit, Jones." I wanted to be taken +out, but could not ask it. What with the danger and the heat and +the thirst and pain, I was unnerved and afraid to look. Perhaps I +lost consciousness for a time; the pain had decreased. At last I +looked, and I saw--nothing! I examined, and found a great +contusion, and that was all. I was happy--the only happy man in the +regiment, for the cannon on the hills beyond the river had not +lessened their fire, and the sun was hot, and the men were +suffering.</p> +<p>As the darkness gathered, the regiment filed out and marched +back to bivouac. I limped along and kept up. We got water and food +and, at length, rest; and sleep banished the fearful memory of a +fearful day.</p> +<p>In the fight at Shepherdstown the Confederate infantry drove the +Federals to the river bank, where many surrendered. Some succeeded +in getting across to the northern bank, but most of those who +attempted the crossing were lost. It was said in Lee's army--- but +with what truth I do not know--that blue corpses floated past +Washington.</p> +<p>After this fight Lee was not molested. Jackson camped his corps +near Martinsburg, and a week later moved to Bunker Hill, where +water was plentiful.</p> +<p>From the 25th of June to the 20th of September--eighty-seven +days--the Army of Northern Virginia had made three great campaigns: +first, that of the week in front of Richmond; second, that of +Manassas; third, that of Harper's Ferry and Sharpsburg. The +Confederates had been clearly victorious in the first two, and had +succeeded in the last in withdrawing with the fruits of Harper's +Ferry, and with the honours of a drawn battle against McClellan's +mighty army.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXIX"></a>XXIX</h2> +<h3>FOREBODINGS</h3> +<center>"<i>King John</i>. Alack, thou dost usurp authority.<br> +<i>King Philip</i>. Excuse; it is to put usurping down."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>All of the month of October, 1862, Jackson's corps remained near +Bunker Hill, in the valley of the Shenandoah. It was here that we +learned of Lincoln's proclamation freeing the slaves. A few copies +of it were seen in our camp--introduced, doubtless, by some device +of the enemy. Most of the officers and men of Company H were not +greatly impressed by this action on the part of the Northern +President. I have reason to know, however, that Captain Haskell +regarded the proclamation a serious matter. One day I had heard two +men of our company--Davis and Stokes--talking.</p> +<p>"I wonder why Jones never gets any letters," said Stokes.</p> +<p>"Have you noticed that?" asked Davis.</p> +<p>"Yes; haven't you?"</p> +<p>"Yes; but I thought it was none of my business."</p> +<p>"Have you ever seen him write any letters?"</p> +<p>"No; I haven't, except for somebody else; he writes letters for +Limus and Peagler."</p> +<p>Limus was a negro, Lieutenant Barnwell's servant. Peagler was +one of Company H, and a valuable member of the infirmary corps, but +he could not write.</p> +<p>The talk of the men had made me gloomy. I sought Captain +Haskell, and unburdened to him. The Captain's manner toward me had +undergone a modification that was very welcome to me; his previous +reserve, indicated by formal politeness, had given place to a +friendly interest, yet he was always courteous.</p> +<p>"I would do anything to relieve you," said he, "but of course +you do not wish me to speak to the men about you."</p> +<p>"Certainly not, sir" said I; "that would only make matters +worse."</p> +<p>"Have you ever yet heard from the hotel at Aiken?"</p> +<p>"Not a word, sir."</p> +<p>"I suppose the hotel has changed hands; or perhaps it has ceased +to exist."</p> +<p>"Possibly so, Captain. Has anything been learned as to the +Fourth South Carolina?"</p> +<p>"Only that it is yet in this army--in Jenkins's brigade. I think +nothing further has resulted. Aleck will ask very prudently if such +a man as Jones Berwick, or Berwick Jones, is missing from that +regiment. We shall know in a few days."</p> +<p>"I suppose we shall know before we march again," said I.</p> +<p>"Probably. We shall hardly move before the Federals do. +McClellan is giving us another display of caution, sir."</p> +<p>"I think he ought to have advanced on the 18th of last month," +said I.</p> +<p>"True," said Captain Haskell; "he missed his chance."</p> +<p>"Why does he not advance now?" I asked.</p> +<p>"He takes time to get ready, I judge. There is one thing to be +said for McClellan: he will do nothing rashly; and he has +considerable nerve, as is shown by his resistance to popular +clamour, and even to the urgency of the Washington authorities. The +last papers that we have got hold of show that Lincoln is +displeased with his general's inactivity. By the way, the war now +assumes a new aspect."</p> +<p>"In what respect, Captain?"</p> +<p>"Lincoln's emancipation order will make it impossible for the +North to compromise. He is a stronger man than I thought him, sir. +He burns his bridges."</p> +<p>"But will not the proclamation cause the South to put forth +greater effort?"</p> +<p>"Pardon me," said he. "It will cause the slaveholders to feel +more strongly; but it will cause also many non-slaveholding men, +such as are in our mountain districts and elsewhere, to believe, +after a while, that the South is at war principally to maintain +slavery, and in slavery they feel no interest at stake. In such +conditions the South can do no more than she is now doing. She may +continue to hold her present strength for a year or two more, but +to increase it greatly seems to me beyond our ability. The +proclamation will effectually prevent any European power from +recognizing us. We must look for no help, and must prepare to +endure a long war."</p> +<p>"Can we not defend ourselves as long as the North, can continue +a war of invasion?"</p> +<p>"A good question, sir. Of course aggression is more costly than +defence. But one trouble with us is that we rarely fight a +defensive battle. Lee's strategy is defensive, but his tactics are +just the reverse. The way to win this war, allow me to say, is to +fight behind trees and rocks and hedges and earthworks: never to +risk a man in the open except where absolutely necessary, and when +absolute victory is sure. To husband her resources in men and means +is the South's first duty, sir. I hope General Lee will never fight +another offensive battle."</p> +<p>"But are not the armies of the enemy strong enough to outflank +any line of intrenchments that we might make?"</p> +<p>"True; but in doing so they would present opportunities which +skilful generalship would know how to seize. If no such +opportunities came, I would have the army to fall back and dig +again."</p> +<p>"Then it would be but a matter of time before we should come to +the last ditch," said I.</p> +<p>"Pardon me; the farther they advanced, the more men would they +need. Of course there would come a limit, at least a theoretical +limit. It might be said that we could not fall back and leave our +territory, which supplies our armies, in the hands of the enemy. +But to counteract this theory we have others. Disease would tell on +the enemy more than on ourselves. Our interior lines would be +shortened, and we could 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."</p> +<p>Captain Haskell had no hope that there would be any such change +in the conduct of the war. He seemed depressed by Mr. Lincoln's +Emancipation Proclamation, which, he saw, would effectually put an +end to hope of aid or intervention from Europe. His hope in the +success of the South was high, however. The North might be strong, +but the South had the righteous cause. He was saddened by the +thought that the war would be a long one, and that many men must +perish.</p> +<p>I had read much from books borrowed from other men in my spare +time, from newspapers, and from magazines; and my questions had led +Captain Haskell to talk for half an hour, perhaps more freely than +he thought.</p> +<p>He told me to say nothing to the men concerning the prospect for +a long war. He seemed serious rather than gloomy. For my part, it +mattered little that the war should be long. I had almost ceased to +expect any discovery of my former home and friends, and the army +seemed a refuge. What would become of me if the war should end +suddenly? I did not feel prepared for any work; I know no business +or trade. Even if I had one, it would be tame after Lee's +campaigns.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXX"></a>XXX</h2> +<h3>TWO SHORT CAMPAIGNS</h3> +<center>"What boots the oft-repeated tale of strife,<br> +The feast of vultures, and the waste of life?<br> +The varying fortune of each separate field,<br> +The fierce that vanquish, and the faint that yield?"<br> + +--BYRON.</center> +<br> +<p>Longstreet's corps had marched out by the Valley, and now +occupied a line east of the Blue Ridge; Jackson remained yet at +Bunker Hill. We heard that Burnside had superseded McClellan; +speculation was rife as to the character of the new commander. It +was easy to believe that the Federal army would soon give us work +to do; its change of leaders clearly showed aggressive purpose, +McClellan being distinguished more for caution than for disposition +to attack.</p> +<p>On November 22d we moved southward, up the Shenandoah Valley. +The march lasted many days. We passed through Winchester, +Strasburg, Woodstock, and turned eastward through Massanutten Gap, +and marched to Madison Court-House. From Madison we marched to +Orange, and finally to Fredericksburg, where the army was again +united by our arrival on December 3d. The march had been painful. +For part of the time I had been barefoot. Many of the men were yet +without shoes.</p> +<p>The weather was now cold. Snow fell. I was thinly clad. On the +morning of December 4th, after a first night in bivouac in the +lines, I awoke with a great pain in my chest and a "gone" feeling +generally. The surgeon told me that I had typhoid pneumonia, and +ordered me to the camp hospital, which consisted of two or three +Sibley tents in the woods. I was laid on a bed of straw and covered +with blankets.</p> +<p>I lay in the camp hospital until the morning of the 14th. How +far off the regiment was I do not know; however, one or two men of +Company H came to see me every day and attended to my wants. On the +11th two of them came and told me good-by; they were ordered to +march; the enemy was crossing the river and was expected to attack. +These men told me afterward that when they said good-by they felt +they were saying the long farewell; I was not expected to +recover.</p> +<p>On the 13th, flat on my back, I heard the battle of +Fredericksburg roaring at the front, some two or three miles away, +I was too ill to feel great interest. On the 14th, early in the +morning, I was lifted into an open wagon and covered with a single +blanket. In this condition I was jolted to a place called +Hamilton's Crossing. There I was lifted out of the wagon and laid +upon the ground. There were others near me, all lying on the +ground. In many places the ground was white with snow; the wind cut +like a blade of ice; I was freezing. At about two o'clock some men +put me into a car--a common box freight-car, which had no heat and +the doors of which were kept open. After a while the car started. +At twelve o'clock that night the train reached Richmond. Some men +put me into an ambulance. I was taken to Camp Winder Hospital, +several miles out, which place was reached about two o'clock in the +morning of the 15th. That I survived that day--the 14th,--has +always been a wonder,</p> +<p>I was put to bed. There were many beds in the ward. In the +middle of the ward, which was about sixty feet long by thirty wide, +was a big stove, red-hot, and around the stove was a circle of +people--women-nurses and stewards, and perhaps some convalescing +patients--singing religious songs. There was a great open space +between the red-hot stove and the people around it. I wanted to lie +in that open space.</p> +<p>I succeeded in getting out of bed; then I crawled on the floor +until I was within a few feet of the stove. The singing stopped. +"You'll burn to death," said a woman. I closed my eyes and soon +fell asleep.</p> +<p>For three or four weeks I lay in bed in Camp Winder. Not an +incident occurred. I received no letters. I had hoped that some man +in the company would write to me. I heard of nothing but general +affairs. The army had gained a victory over Burnside. I had known +that fact on the night of the 14th. I knew, also, that General +Gregg had been killed. The papers that I saw gave me some of the +details of the battle, but told me nothing of the position of the +army, except that it was yet near Fredericksburg. I did not know +where Company H was, and I learned afterward that nobody in Company +H knew what had become of me.</p> +<p>The monotony of hospital life became intolerable. My recovery +was slow and my impatience great. When I felt my strength begin to +return, I wrote to Captain Haskell. No answer came. Before the end +of February I had demanded my papers and had started for the army +yet near Fredericksburg. Transportation by rail was given me to a +station called Guiney's, from which place I had to walk some nine +or ten miles. I found Company H below Fredericksburg and back from +the river. Captain Haskell was not with the company. He had been +ordered on some special duty to South Carolina, and returned to us +a week later than my arrival. Many of the men--though all of +twenty-six men could hardly be said to be many--had thought that I +was dead, as nothing had been heard of me since the battle of +Fredericksburg.</p> +<p>When Captain Haskell returned, he showed wonderful cheerfulness +for so serious a man. He was greatly encouraged because General Lee +had fought at Fredericksburg a purely defensive battle--behind +breastworks--and had lost but few men. The worst loss in the whole +army had been caused by a mistake of our own officers, who refused +to allow their men to fire upon a line of Yankees until almost too +late, believing them to be Confederates. It was through this error +that General Gregg, for whom the camp of the army was named, had +lost his life.</p> +<p>Company H was in small huts made of poles and roofed +variously--some with cloth or canvas, others with slabs or boards +rudely riven from the forest trees. We had camp guard to mount and +picket duty occasionally.</p> +<p>The remainder of the winter passed without events of great +importance. Adjutant Haskell had learned that no man missing from +the Fourth South Carolina, which had suffered such losses that it +had been reorganized as a battalion, fitted with my description or +with either of my names. I spent much time in reading the books +which passed from man to man in the company.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>At this period of my service I was in good health and somewhat +more cheerful than I had been previously. The woods had begun to +show signs of Spring. The snow had disappeared, and early in April +the weather became mild. To say that I was content would be to say +what is untrue, but I felt that my condition had much of solace. I +knew that I had a friend in Captain Haskell--a man whom I admired +without reservation, and whose favours were extended to me +freely--I mean to say personal, not official, favours. The more I +learned of this high-minded man, the more did the whole world seem +to me brighter and less deserving of disregard. He was a patriot. +An heir to an estate of many slaves, he was at war for a principle +of liberty; he was ready at any time to sacrifice personal interest +to the furtherance of the common cause of the South. In battle he +was strong, calm, unutterably dignified. Battle, it seemed to me, +was considered by him as a high, religious service, which he +performed ceremonially. Nothing could equal the vigorous gravity of +his demeanour when leading his men in fight. His words were few at +such times; he was the only officer I ever knew void absolutely of +rant in action. Others would shout and scream and shriek their +orders redundant and unwholesome; Haskell's eye spoke better battle +English than all their distended throats. He was merciful and he +was wise.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the 28th of April, 1863, we were ordered to have three days' +cooked rations in our haversacks, and to be prepared to move at a +moment's notice.</p> +<p>The next day at ten o'clock the men left their huts and fell +into ranks. We marched to Hamilton's Crossing--some six miles--and +formed in line of battle, and began to throw up breastworks. The +enemy was in our front, on our side of the Rappahannock, and we +learned that he had crossed in strong force up the river also. We +faced the Yankees here for two days, but did not fire a shot.</p> +<p>Before dawn on Friday, May 1st, we were in motion westward--up +the river. At noon we could hear skirmishing and cannon in our +front. The sounds at first went from us, but at two o'clock they +increased in volume. We were pressed forward; again the noise of +the fight began to die away. The enemy were retiring before our +advanced troops. Night came on, and we lay on our arms, expecting +the day to bring battle.</p> +<p>The morning brought Jackson's famous flank march to the left of +Hooker's army. At first we moved southward under a sharp fire of +artillery from which we seemed to retreat; the men thought the +movement was retreat, and it is no wonder that Hooker thought so; +but suddenly our march broke off toward the west, and the men could +not conceal their joy over what they were now beginning to +understand. Frequently, on that day, Jackson was seen riding past +the marching lines to the head of his column, or halted with his +staff to see his troops hastening on.</p> +<p>Late in the afternoon our column was halted on the turnpike. Our +backs were toward the sunset. Two other divisions were in line of +battle in our front. We moved along the road at supporting +distance.</p> +<p>Shots rang out in the woods in front, and in another instant the +roar of the charging yell mingled with the crash of continuous +musketry. There was no pause in the advance. Both lines ahead of us +had swept on. We followed, still in column of fours upon the road, +which was almost blocked by a battery of artillery.</p> +<p>Soon we found the road full of the signs of battle. On our right +was open ground--to the south; facing this open space was a +breastwork from which the enemy had just been driven, leaving +wounded and dead, their muskets, accoutrements, cooking utensils +yet upon the fires, blankets, knapsacks--everything.</p> +<p>We continued to advance. Our first and second lines having +become intermingled, needed time to restore their ranks. Hill's +division now formed the first line of battle.</p> +<p>It was now dark, and no enemy could be seen. Their guns in the +distance told us, however, that they had made a stand. We again +went forward. Near the enemy's second line of intrenchments we were +halted in the thick woods.</p> +<p>The battle seemed to have ended for the night. In our front rose +a moon, the like of which was never seen. Almost completely full +and in a cloudless sky, she shown calmly down on the men of two +armies yet lingering in the last struggles of life and death. Here +and there a gun broke the silence, as if to warn us that all was +not peace; now and then a film of cannon smoke drifted across the +moon, which seemed to become piteous then. There was silence in the +ranks.</p> +<p>The line was lying down, ready, however, and alert. At about +nine o'clock a sharp rattle of rifles was heard at our left--about +where Lane's brigade was posted, as we thought--and soon a mournful +group of men passed by us, bearing the outstretched form of one +whom we knew to be some high officer. Jackson had been shot +dangerously by one of Lane's regiments--the Eighteenth North +Carolina.</p> +<p>General A.P. Hill now commanded the corps. Again all was silent, +and the line lay down, as it hoped, for the night. All at once +there came the noise of a gun, and another, and of a whole battery, +and many batteries, and fields and woods were alive with shells and +canister. More than forty pieces of cannon had been massed in our +front. We lay and endured the fire. General Hill was wounded, and +at midnight General Stuart of the cavalry took command of the +corps. At last the cannon hushed. The terrible night passed away +without sleep.</p> +<p>At eight o'clock on Sunday morning the Light Division, under +command of General Pender, assaulted the intrenchments of the +enemy. Our brigade succeeded in getting into the works; but on our +right the enemy's line still held, and as it curved far to the west +it had us in flank and rear. A new attack at this moment by the +troops on our right would have carried the line; the attack was not +made. We were compelled to abandon the breastworks and run for the +woods, where we formed again at once.</p> +<p>And now another brigade charged, and was driven back by an +enfilade fire.</p> +<p>At ten o'clock a third and final charge was made along the whole +line; the intrenchments were ours, and Chancellorsville was +won.</p> +<p>Company H had lost many men; Pinckney Seabrook, a most gallant +officer, had fallen dead, shot by some excited man far in our +rear.</p> +<p>We moved no farther in advance. The scattered lines re-formed, +and were ready to go forward and push the Federals to the +Rappahannock, but no orders came. General Lee had just received +intelligence of the second battle of Fredericksburg. The enemy, +under Sedgwick, had taken the heights above the town, and were now +advancing against our right flank. Our division, and perhaps +others, held the field of Chancellorsville, while troops were +hurried east to face Sedgwick. Before the close of the 4th the +Federals near Fredericksburg had been forced to retire to the north +bank of the Rappahannock. By the morning of the 6th all of Hooker's +army had recrossed the river.</p> +<p>Chancellorsville is considered Lee's greatest victory, because +of the enormous odds he fought. Longstreet, with two of his +divisions, was not at Chancellorsville, but was at Suffolk opposing +the Federals under Peck. Hooker's army had numbered a hundred and +thirty thousand, while Lee had less than sixty thousand men.</p> +<p>We marched back to our huts below Fredericksburg. A few days +later we learned that the most illustrious man in the South was +dead. No longer should we follow Stonewall Jackson.</p> +<p>The two corps of the army were formed into three--Longstreet's +the first, Ewell's the second, and A.P. Hill's the third. Our +General Gregg had been killed at Fredericksburg, and we were now +McGowan's brigade. Our General Jackson had fallen at +Chancellorsville, and we were now in the corps of A.P. Hill, whose +promotion placed four brigades of our division under General +Pender. Letters received by Company H a few weeks before had been +addressed to Gregg's brigade, A.P. Hill's division, Jackson's +corps; letters received now were addressed to McGowan's brigade, +Pender's division, A.P. Hill's corps. But why do I talk of +letters?</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Shortly after our return to the old camp, by order of General +Pender, a battalion of sharp-shooters was formed in each brigade of +his division. Two or three men were taken from each, company--from +the large companies three, from the small ones two. Our brigade had +five regiments of ten companies each, so that McGowan's battalion +of sharp-shooters was to be composed of about a hundred and twenty +men. General McGowan chose Captain Haskell as the commander of the +battalion. When I heard of this appointment, I went to the Captain +and begged to go with him. He said, "I had already chosen you, +Jones," and I felt happy and proud. When the battalion was drawn up +for the first time, orders were read showing the organization of +the command. There were to be three companies, each under a +lieutenant. I was in Company A, with the other men from the First. +Gus Rhodes, a sergeant in Company H, was named orderly-sergeant of +Company A of the battalion, and Private B. Jones was named second +sergeant. For a moment I wondered who this B. Jones was, and then +it came upon me that no one could be meant except myself.</p> +<p>After the ranks broke I went to the Captain. He smiled at my +approach. "You deserved it, Jones; at least I think so. I don't +know the other men, and I do know you."</p> +<p>I stammered some reply, thanking him for his goodness toward me, +and started to go away.</p> +<p>"Wait," said he, "I want to talk to you. Do you know the men of +the company?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; only a few of them; but the few I know know the others +and say they are good men."</p> +<p>"No doubt they have been well proved in the line," said he; "but +you know that Company C and Company H have thus far had to do +almost all the skirmishing for the regiment, and we have only four +or five men in the battalion out of those companies. It is one +thing, to be a good soldier in the line and another thing to be a +good skirmisher."</p> +<p>"I suppose so, Captain," said I; "but it seems to me that +anybody would prefer being in the battalion."</p> +<p>"No, not anybody," said the Captain; "it shows some independence +of mind to prefer it. A man willing to lean on others will not like +the battalion. Our duties will be somewhat different for the +future. The men get their rations and their pay through their +original companies, but are no longer attached to them otherwise. +On the march and in battle they will serve as a distinct command, +and will be exposed to many dangers that the line of battle will +escape, though the danger, on the whole, will be lessened, I dare +say, especially for alert men who know how to seize every +advantage. But the most of the men have not been trained for such +service. As a body, we have had no training at all. We must begin +at once, and I expect you to hold up your end of Company A."</p> +<p>"I will do my best, Captain," said I.</p> +<p>"Come to my quarters to-night," said he; "I want you to do some +writing for me."</p> +<p>That night a programme of drill exercises for the battalion was +prepared, and day after day thereafter it was put into practice. We +drilled and drilled; company drill as skirmishers; battalion drill +as skirmishers; estimating distances; target firing, and all of +it.</p> +<p>Early in June Hill's corps alone was holding the line at +Fredericksburg. Ewell and Longstreet had marched away toward the +Shenandoah Valley, and onward upon the road that ends at Cemetery +Hill. The Federals again crossed the Rappahannock, but in small +bodies. Their army was on the Falmouth Hills beyond the river.</p> +<p>On the 6th the battalion was ordered to the front. We took our +places--five steps apart--in a road running down the river. On +either side of the road was a dry ditch with a bank of earth thrown +up, and with trees growing upon the bank, so that the road was a +fine shaded avenue. In front, and on our side of the river, was a +Federal skirmish-line--five hundred yards from us.</p> +<p>Firing began. The Yankees were screened from view by bushes in +the low ground between us and the river. Much tall grass, woods, +and broom-sedge covered the unwooded space between the opposing +lines; rarely could a man be seen. Our men stood in the dry ditch +and fired above the bank, which formed a natural breastwork. At my +place, on the left of Company A, a large tree was growing upon the +bank. I was standing behind this tree; a bullet struck it. The +firing was very slow--men trying to pick a target. When the bullet +struck the tree, I saw the smoke of a gun rise from behind a bush. +I aimed at the bush and fired. Soon a bullet sizzed by me, and I +saw the smoke at the same bush; I fired again. Again the tree was +struck, and again I fired. The tree was a good +protection,--possibly not so good as the bank of earth, though it +gave me a much better view,--and I suppose I was a little careless; +at any rate, while loading the next time I felt a sharp little pain +on my arm. I jumped back into the ditch. My sleeve was torn between +my arm and body. I took off my coat--there was hardly more than a +scratch; the ball had grazed the inside of my arm about an inch +below the armpit and had drawn some blood.</p> +<p>We skirmished all day, neither side advancing. The battalion had +no losses. At night the Federals withdrew to their side of the +river. While going back to camp our men kept up a perfect babel of +talk concerning their first day's experience in the battalion of +sharp-shooters. They were to undergo other experiences--experiences +which would cause them to hold their tongues.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXI"></a>XXXI</h2> +<h3>GLOOM</h3> +<center>"He was a man, take him all in all,<br> +I shall not see his like again"--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>The time came for A.P. Hill to follow on after Longstreet We +broke camp on the 15th, and marched day after day through Culpeper; +Chester Gap, Front Royal and Berryville. On the 25th of June we +forded the Potomac for the last time, crossing below Shepherdstown +at the ford by which we had advanced nine months before in our +hurried march from Harper's Ferry to Sharpsburg. We passed once +more through Sharpsburg, and advanced to a village called +Funkstown, in the edge of Pennsylvania, where our division rested +for three days.</p> +<p>On the 29th, Sergeant Rhodes and I went foraging. At some small +farmhouses far off in the hills we found provisions to sell at +cheap prices. Our Confederate money was received with less +unwillingness than we might have expected. We got onions, cheese, +and bread--rye-bread. Rhodes was carrying a tin bucket; he wanted +milk. Coming back toward camp at sunset, we met in a lane two fine +cows--a boy driving them home from pasture. We halted. Rhodes +ordered the boy to milk the cows; the boy replied that he could not +milk. "Well, I can," said Rhodes. I held the sergeant's gun, and he +soon drew his bucket full. Meantime, I was talking with the +boy.</p> +<p>"When did you see your brother last?" I asked.</p> +<p>"About two months ago," said he.</p> +<p>"Is he the only brother you have?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"How does he like the army?"</p> +<p>"He liked it at first; Father tried to keep him from going, but +he couldn't."</p> +<p>"And he doesn't like it now?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; that he don't. He hated to go back, but he had +to."</p> +<p>"Say, young man," said Rhodes; "have you got a brother in the +Yankee army?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Then I don't pay you a cent for this milk."</p> +<p>I thought that the boy was greatly surprised to know that Rhodes +had intended to pay.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the last day of the month we moved again; the morning of July +1st found us marching eastward on the Cashtown road. The heat was +great, although the sun was not high. The march was rapid and +unobstructed, as though A.P. Hill was soon to have work to do. +Heth's division led the corps. We descended from a range of high +hills, having in our front an extensive region dotted over with +farmhouses and with fertile fields interspersed with groves. The +march continued; steadily eastward went the corps.</p> +<p>At nine o'clock the spasmodic patter of rifles was heard in +front. We were halted. Haskell's battalion filed to the right, +deployed, and the column marched on, with the sharp-shooters moving +as skirmishers parallel with the brigade.</p> +<p>The firing in front increased. The battalion flanked to the +right and went forward in line to the top of a hill overlooking a +large low plain to the south. We halted in position, occupying a +most formidable defensive line. In our rear, half a mile, the +division, and perhaps other divisions, went by into battle, and +left us on the hill, protecting their flank and rear.</p> +<p>Cavalry were visible in our front. They moved over the plain in +many small groups, but throughout the day did not venture within +range of our rifles. A great engagement seemed in progress at our +rear and left. We could see the smoke of burning houses and see +shells burst in the air, and could hear the shouts of our men as +they advanced from one position to another, driving the enemy.</p> +<p>A little before sunset Captain Haskell came to me and handed me +a folded paper. "Find General Pender," he said, "and give him this +note. I fear the battalion has been forgotten here, and I am asking +for orders. Be back as quickly as you can."</p> +<p>My way was over the battlefield. I passed between houses yet +burning. Dead and wounded lay intermingled, Federals and +Confederates. In one place behind a stone fence there were many +blue corpses. The ambulances and infirmary men were busy. In a road +I saw side by side a Confederate and a Federal. The Confederate was +on his back; his jacket was open; his shirt showed a great red +splotch right on his breast. Death must have been +instantaneous.</p> +<p>At the Seminary I found at last our line. It had been much +farther forward, but had been withdrawn to the hill. General Pender +was yet on his horse. I handed him the note. He read it, and said, +without looking at me, "Tell the Captain to bring his men in."</p> +<p>I ran down the line to find Company H. In a few minutes I saw +Lieutenant Barnwell and the men. Larkin of Company H, colour-bearer +of the regiment, had fallen; Corporal Jones was dead; many men were +wounded. The brigade had fought well; it had charged the enemy +behind a stone fence and routed them, and had pursued them through +the streets of the town and taken many prisoners. Butler and +Williams had gone into a house foraging, and in the cellar had +taken a whole company commanded by a lieutenant. Other tales there +were to tell. Albert Youmans had gone entirely through the town, +followed by straggling men, and had reached the top of Cemetery +Hill, and had seen a confused mass of men in utter disorganization, +and had waved his hat and shouted to the men behind him to come on; +but Major Alston had already ordered the pursuit stopped. The flag +of the First had waved in the streets of the town before that of +any other regiment. The commander of the Federals, General +Reynolds, had been killed. Archer's brigade of Heth's division had +in the early hours of the battle advanced too far, and many of the +brigade had been captured.</p> +<p>All this and more I heard in the few minutes which I dared to +give. I hurried back to the battalion, running to make up lost +time. It was not yet thoroughly dark as I made my way for the +second time over the bloody field. I passed again between the +Confederate and the Federal whom I had seen lying side by side. Our +man was sitting in the road, and eating hardtack.</p> +<p>When I reached the battalion all ears were open for news. When I +told about seeing the supposed dead man alive again and eating +hardtack, Charley Wilson shouted, "And he got it out of that +Yankee's haversack!"</p> +<p>For a while that night the battalion lay behind the brigade. At +ten o'clock Captain Haskell called me. He was sitting alone. He +made me sit by him.</p> +<p>"Jones," said he, "Company A will not move to-night, but the +other companies will relieve the skirmishers at daybreak."</p> +<p>"I wish Company A could go, too," said I.</p> +<p>"Company A has done a little extra duty to-day; it will be held +in reserve."</p> +<p>"But what extra duty has Company A done, Captain?"</p> +<p>"It has sent one man on special service," said he; "you may say +that it was not a great duty; but it was something, and rules must +be observed. Of course, if your company happened to be of average +number and either of the others was very small, I should take +Company A instead. But it does not so happen; so the work you have +done to-day gives Company A a rest--if rest it can be called."</p> +<p>"But why not take the whole battalion?"</p> +<p>"Only two companies are needed. The losses of the brigade to-day +have been so great that two companies can cover our front. Lee +attacks again," he continued sadly; "he has fought but one +defensive battle."</p> +<p>"But you must allow, Captain," said I, "that Chancellorsville +was a great victory--and to-day's battle also."</p> +<p>"Chancellorsville was indeed a great victory," said he; "but the +enemy is as strong as ever. I cannot suggest anything against +Chancellorsville, except that I think that we should not have +stopped on Sunday morning after taking the second line of +intrenchments. General Lee heard of Sedgwick's movement just at the +wrong time I dare say. Should he not have pressed Hooker into the +river before giving attention to Sedgwick<a name= +"FNanchor8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8">[8]</a>?"</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor8">[8]</a> +Captain Haskell is wrong here. Hooker's new position was +impregnable to any attack the Confederates were then able to make. +Hooker himself, as well as his army, wished for the Confederates to +attack. Lee's march against Sedgwick, at this juncture, was the +right movement. See the Comte de Paris, <i>in loc</i>. +[ED.]</blockquote> +<p>"Then you believe in attacking," said I.</p> +<p>"True; I do under such circumstances. The trouble with us has +been that we attack resisting troops, and when we defeat them we +refuse to trouble them any more: we let them get away. Yet, as you +say, Chancellorsville was a great victory; anything that would have +sent Hooker's army back over the river, even without a battle, +would have been success. But speaking from a military view, I dare +say it was a false movement to divide our forces as we did there. +We succeeded because our opponents allowed us to succeed. It was in +Hooker's power on Saturday to crush either Jackson or McLaws. Yet, +as you suggest, General Lee was compelled to take great risks; no +matter what he should do, his position seemed well-nigh desperate, +and he succeeded by the narrowest margin. Even on Sunday morning, +before the action began, if General Lee had only known the exact +condition below us at Fredericksburg, I dare say Hooker would in +the end have claimed a victory, for General Lee would not have +assaulted Hooker's works."</p> +<p>"But would he not have overcome Sedgwick?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Pardon me. After Hooker's defeat Lee could afford to march +against Sedgwick, but not before. I think he would have retreated. +We had enormous good fortune. It was as great as at the first +Manassas, when Beauregard, finding himself flanked by McDowell, won +the battle by the steady conduct of a few regiments who held the +enemy until Johnston's men came up. Of course I am not making any +comparison between Generals Lee and Beauregard. But Manassas and +Chancellorsville are past, and observe, sir, what a loss we have +had to-day. I dare say the enemy's loss is heavier, but he can +stand losses here, and we cannot; another day or two like to-day, +and we are ruined. To beat back a corps of the enemy for a mile or +so until it occupies a stronger position than before, is not--you +will agree with, me--the defensive warfare which, the Confederacy +began. What can General Lee do to-morrow but attack? He will +attack, and I trust we shall defeat Meade's army; but we cannot +destroy it, and it will be filled up again long before we can get +any 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."</p> +<p>"Cannot General Lee await an attack?"</p> +<p>"I fear that he cannot, Jones; the enemy would grow stronger +every day, while we should become weaker. The enemy would not +attack until we should begin to retreat; then they would embarrass +our retreat and endeavour to bring us to battle."</p> +<p>"Then you would advise immediate retreat?"</p> +<p>"My friend, we must risk a battle. But even if we gain it, we +shall be losers. The campaign was false from the start. Is it not +absurd for a small army of a weak nation to invade a great nation +in the face of more powerful armies? If we had arms which the +Federals could not match, we should find it easy to conquer a peace +on this field. But their equipment is superior to ours. The +campaign is wrong. If inactivity could not have been tolerated, we +should have 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."</p> +<p>"But would not a great victory here give us peace?"</p> +<p>"I fear not; we cannot gain such a victory as would do that. +Look at the victories of this war. They have been claimed by both +aides--many of them. The defeated recover very quickly. Except Fort +Donelson, where has there been a great victory?"</p> +<p>"The Chickahominy," said I.</p> +<p>"Gaines's Mill was a victory; but we lost more men than the +Federals, and McClellan escaped us."</p> +<p>"Second Manassas."</p> +<p>"Pope claimed a victory for the first day, and his army escaped +on the second day. True, it was beaten, but it is over yonder now +on that hill."</p> +<p>"Fredericksburg."</p> +<p>"Yes; that was a victory, and Burnside should not have been +allowed to get away. Do you remember a story in the camp to the +effect that Jackson was strongly in favour of a night attack upon +the Federals huddled up on our side of the river?"</p> +<p>"Yes, Captain. I heard of it after I returned from the hospital. +You know I was not in the battle."</p> +<p>"I remember. Well, the rumour was true. General Jackson wished +to throw his corps upon the enemy the night after the battle; the +men were to wear strips of white cloth, around their arms so that +they might recognize each other."</p> +<p>"And you believe the attack would have succeeded?"</p> +<p>"Beyond all question, Jones. We should have driven the Federals +into the river. We lost there our greatest opportunity."</p> +<p>"And you think we could have done the same thing to Hooker's +army?"</p> +<p>"True--or nearly so; but we allowed Hooker as well as Burnside +to get away. I have sometimes thought that General Lee is too +merciful, and that he is restrained because we are killing our own +people. If Burnside's men had been of a foreign nation, I think Lee +might have listened more willingly to Jackson. The feeling may have +been balanced in our favour at Sharpsburg. If McClellan had been +killing Frenchmen, I dare say he would have had more fight in him +on the 18th of September. After all that we read in the newspapers, +Jones, about the vandalism practised in this war, yet this war is, +I dare say, the least inhumane that ever was waged. I don't think +our men hate the men on the other side."</p> +<p>"I don't," said I.</p> +<p>"Be that as it may; whether we are too merciful or too +unfortunate as to opportunity, the fact remains that armies are not +destroyed; they get away; when we gain a field, it is only the +moral effect that remains with us. War is different from the old +wars. The only thorough defeats are surrenders. It would take days +for Lee's army to shoot down Meade's at long range, even if Meade +should stand and do nothing. We may defeat Meade,--I don't see why +we should not,--but in less than a week we should be compelled to +fight him again, and we should be weaker and he would be stronger +than before."</p> +<p>"I have often-wondered," said I, "how the ancients destroyed +whole armies."</p> +<p>"Conditions allowed them to do it." said the captain. "In +Caesar's wars, for instance, men fought hand to hand, physical +strength and endurance were the qualities that prevailed. The men +became exhausted backing away or slinging away at each other. In +such a condition a regiment of cavalry is turned loose on a broad +plain against a division unable to flee, and one horseman puts a +company to death; all he has to do is to cut and thrust."</p> +<p>"A victory should at least enable us to hold our ground until we +could get reënforcements," I said.</p> +<p>"True; but we should get one man and the enemy would get +twenty."</p> +<p>"We could retire after victory," I said.</p> +<p>"Can you believe that General Lee would do that? I do not know +that he is responsible for this offensive campaign, but we all know +that he is quicker to fight than to retreat. It is astonishing to +me that his reputation is that of a defensive general. I dare say +his wonderful ability as an engineer accounts for it."</p> +<p>"If we should gain a victory here, would not England or France +recognize us?"</p> +<p>"Would it not require a succession of great victories for that? +Ever since Lincoln's proclamation there has been no sound hope of +European recognition. There was one hope, but that was soon +gone."</p> +<p>"What was it, Captain?"</p> +<p>"The hope that the Confederacy would meet Lincoln's order by +emancipating the slaves gradually."</p> +<p>"Was that seriously thought of?"</p> +<p>"Yes; there was much discussion of it, but privately in the +main. We do not know what took place in Congress, but it has leaked +out that there was a strong party there in favour of it. Whether +any vote was ever had I do not know; I dare say those in favour of +the measure found they were not strong enough, and thought best not +to press it."</p> +<p>"What effect would such a course have had?"</p> +<p>"I can say only what I think. I believe that England would have +recognized us. The North, too, would have been disarmed, in a +measure. In fact, the great bugaboo that brought on the war would +have been laid at rest. The North would have been eager to +conciliate the South, and it would have become possible to +reconstruct the Union with clear definitions of the sovereignty of +the States."</p> +<p>"I remember your telling me long ago that you would favour a +gradual emancipation."</p> +<p>"Yes; our form of slavery is not bad, it is true, Jones; in +fact, there is great justification for it. It is too universal, +however. It does not give enough opportunity for a slave to +develop, and to make a future for himself. Still, we have some +grand men among the slaves. Many of them would suffer death for the +interest of their masters' families. Then, too, we have in the +South a type unknown in the rest of the world since feudalism: we +have in Virginia, in South Carolina, in Louisiana, reproductions of +the old nobility. The world is richer for such men. The general +condition of the slaves is good. We know that the negro is an +inferior race. We have done him no injustice by giving him a small +share in a civilization which his kings could never know. He was a +slave at home; he is less a slave here. He has been contented. +Witness his docility, his kindness even, to our wives and children +while his masters are at war, seemingly to perpetuate his bonds. +Such conduct deserves recognition. I would say that a system of +rewards should be planned by which a worthy negro, ambitious to +become free, could by meritorious conduct achieve his freedom. But +this act of Lincoln's is monstrous. It is good for nobody. A race +of slaves, suddenly become free, is a race of infants with the +physical force of men. What would become of them? Suppose the North +should succeed. Suppose the Confederate armies disbanded, and the +States back in the Union or held as territories. Has anybody the +least idea that the whites of the South would tolerate the new +dignity of their former slaves? The condition would be but the +beginning of race hatred that would grow into active hostility, and +would never end. The whites would band together and punish negro +offences more severely than ever. The negroes could not combine. +The result would be cruelty to the black man; his condition would +be far worse than before. Even supposing that Northern armies +should indefinitely occupy all our territory; even supposing that +our own people should be driven out and our lands given to the +slaves--what would become of them? We know their character. They +look not one day ahead. There would be famine, riot, pestilence, +anarchy. And the worst men of the race would hold the rest in +terror. Immorality would be at a premium, sir. The race would lose +what it had gained. But, on the other hand, put into practice a +plan for gradual freedom based on good conduct; you would see +whites and blacks living in peace. The negro would begin to +improve, and the white people would help him. It would not be long +before the ideal of the negro would be individual freedom, not race +freedom, as it is the white man's ideal now. There would be great +striving throughout the negro race, which would be affected thereby +from first to last of them. Yes, I believe that if we had so done +we should have been recognized. England does not believe in sudden +emancipation. She provides for the freeing of the slaves throughout +her dominions, but gradually carries her plans into effect, and she +pays the owners. I sometimes think that American Revolution was a +mistake for the Southern colonies, for South Carolina +especially."</p> +<p>"A mistake, Captain? That is a new idea to me."</p> +<p>"We certainly had not the reason to rebel that Massachusetts +had. Our best people--and we had many of them--were closely allied +to the best of the English, more closely than to Massachusetts. Our +trade with the mother country was profitable, and our products were +favoured by bounties. We had no connection, with the French and +Indian wars which had given rise to so much trouble between Great +Britain and New England. But our people thought it would be base to +desert the cause of Massachusetts. I dare say this thought was the +main reason that caused South Carolina to throw in her lot with +that of our Northern colonies. See what we get for it. We renounce +our profitable commerce with England, and we help our sister +colonies; just so soon as their profitable commerce with us is +threatened by our withdrawal, they maintain it by putting us to +death. It is their nature, sir. They live by trade. If they +continue to increase in power, they will hold the West in +commercial subjection--and the isles of the sea, if they can ever +reach to them. Death has no such terrors to them as loss of +trade."</p> +<p>"But could the Revolution have succeeded without the South?"</p> +<p>"Certainly not. The South really bore the brunt of the war. New +England suffered very little. New York suffered; so did +Pennsylvania and New Jersey, but nothing in comparison with South +Carolina, which was in reality no more than a conquered province +for years, and yet held faithful to the cause of the colonies. And +it was the eventual success of the Southern arms that caused the +surrender of Cornwallis. The North is very ungrateful to us."</p> +<p>"With Great Britain and America under one government, we should +have been a very powerful nation," said I, musingly.</p> +<p>"And this war never would have been possible. Our slaves would +have been freed wisely, and we should have been paid for them. +England and America could have controlled the world in peace; but +here we are, diligently engaged in killing one another."</p> +<p>"Captain, I think our men are in better spirits than ever +before."</p> +<p>"That is very true, Jones. They are full of hope and courage. I +have hope also, but I see no quick ending to this war."</p> +<p>"I don't believe this army can be defeated," said I.</p> +<p>"It cannot. It may suffer great losses, and be forced to +retreat,--indeed, I think that consequence a natural inference from +the situation,--but it cannot be badly defeated; it cannot be +disorganized. It would take months to overcome it."</p> +<p>"Then you really believe that we shall retreat?"</p> +<p>"Yes; I believe we shall fight, and we shall fight hard, and +have losses, but the enemy will be very cautious of attack, and +those of us who are able to march shall see Virginia again."</p> +<p>"Those who are able to march? Could we leave our wounded +here?"</p> +<p>"I was thinking only of the fallen. If ever the history of this +war is truly written, the greatest honours of all will be paid to +the common soldiers, men who, without a particle of interest in +slaves, give their lives for independence--the independence of +their States. Yet it is useless to grieve in anticipation."</p> +<p>"A soldier's death should not be a thing to grieve over," said +I; "at least, so it seems to me. I think I should prefer death in +battle to death by disease."</p> +<p>"True; and death must come, sooner or later, to all of us.</p> +<blockquote>"'On two days it steads not to run from the grave,<br> + The appointed and the unappointed day;<br> + On the first, neither balm nor physician can save,<br> + Nor thee, on the second, the Universe +slay.'"</blockquote> +<p>"Who is that, Captain?"</p> +<p>"The Persian Omar Khayyam, followed by Emerson."</p> +<p>"How do you spell that Persian's name, Captain?"</p> +<p>"K-h-a-y-y-a-m."</p> +<p>"And you pronounce it Ki-yam?"</p> +<p>"That is the way I pronounced it; is it not correct?"</p> +<p>"I don't know. I never heard of him before, but the name seems +not unfamiliar. Is he living?"</p> +<p>"Oh, no; dead centuries since. Were you hoping to find one of +your old personal friends?"</p> +<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. Somehow the name seems to carry me back +somewhere."</p> +<p>"Maybe you knew him in a previous existence."</p> +<p>"Don't laugh, Captain. It is not the words, but merely the name +that strikes me. You don't believe the words yourself."</p> +<p>"I do and I do not. I believe them in a sense."</p> +<p>"In what sense, Captain?"</p> +<p>"In the sense in which the poet taught. The religion of the East +is fatalism. A fatalist who endeavours to shun death is +inconsistent."</p> +<p>"But you are not a fatalist."</p> +<p>"No, and yes. Another poet has said that divinity shapes the +ends that we rough-hew; I should reverse this and say that life is +blocked out in the large for us by powers over which we can have no +control, but that within certain limits we do the shaping of our +own lives."</p> +<p>"A new and better version," said I; "to-morrow some shaping will +be done. What effect on the general result to nations and the world +does one battle, more or fewer, have?"</p> +<p>"Some events are counterbalanced by others, seemingly, and the +result is nothing; but every event is important to some life."</p> +<p>"Captain, Youmans says he got to the top of the hill over +yonder, and that we could have occupied it but that our men were +recalled."</p> +<p>"It would have made little difference," said he. "The enemy +would only have intrenched farther off. I dare say they are digging +at this moment."</p> +<p>Then he said, "Go back to your place, Jones, and never fail to +do your full duty. I am serious, because war is serious. The more +we have to do, the more must we nerve ourselves to do it. We must +collect all our energies, and each man must do the work of two. +Impress the men strongly with the necessity for courage and +endurance."</p> +<p>The full moon was shining in high heaven. I bade the Captain +good night.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the morning of July 2d, Company A still lay behind the +brigade, which was in line a little to the south of the Seminary. +The sun shone hot. The skirmishers were busy in front. Artillery +roared at our left and far to our right. At times shells came over +us. A caisson near by exploded. In the afternoon a great battle was +raging some two miles to our right. Longstreet's corps had gone +in.</p> +<p>At four o'clock I saw some litter-bearers moving to the rear. On +the litter was a body. The litter-bearers halted. A few men +gathered around. Then the men of Company H began to stir. Some of +them approached the litter. Who was it? I became anxious. The men +came slowly back--one at a time--grim.</p> +<p>I asked who it was that had been killed.</p> +<p>"Captain Haskell," they said.</p> +<p>My tongue failed me, as my pen does now. What! Captain Haskell? +Our Captain dead? Who had ever thought that he might be killed? I +now knew that I had considered him like Washington--invulnerable. +He had passed through so many dangers unhurt, had been exposed to +so many deaths that had refused to demand him, had so freely +offered his life, had been so calm and yet so valiant in battle, +had been so worshipped by all the left wing of the regiment and by +the battalion, had been so wise in council and so forceful in the +field, had, in fine, been one of those we instinctively feel are +heroes immortal! And now he was dead? It could not be! There must +be some mistake!</p> +<p>But I looked, and I saw Lieutenant Barnwell in tears, and I saw +Sergeant Mackay in tears, and I saw Rhodes in tears--and I broke +down utterly.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXII"></a>XXXII</h2> +<h3>NIGHT</h3> +<center>"From camp to camp, through the foul womb of night,<br> +The hum of either army stilly sounds,<br> +That the fixed sentinels almost receive<br> +The secret whispers of each other's watch."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>As the sun was setting on that doleful day, Company A was +ordered forward to the skirmish-line. We deployed and marched down +the hill in front of the Seminary. Cemetery Height was crowned with +cannon and intrenched infantry. The wheat field on its slope was +alive with skirmishers whose shots dropped amongst us as we +advanced. Down our hill and into the hollow; there the fire +increased and we lay flat on the ground. Our skirmish-line was some +two or three hundred yards in front of us, in the wheat on the +slope of the ascent. Twilight had come.</p> +<p>Just on my left a brigade advanced up the hill through the +wheat; what for, nobody knew and nobody will ever know<a name= +"FNanchor9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9">[9]</a>. It was Ramseur's +brigade of Rodes's division.</p> +<blockquote><a name="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor9">[9]</a> +Ramseur's was the extreme right brigade of Ewell's corps, which at +the moment was making an attack upon Culp's Hill. +[ED.]</blockquote> +<p>Company A advanced and united to Company C's left. I was now the +left guide of the battalion. I saw no pickets at my left. I thought +it likely that the brigade advancing had taken the skirmishers into +its ranks.</p> +<p>Ramseur's men continued to go forward up the hill through the +wheat. We could yet see them, but indistinctly. They began firing +and shouting; they charged the Federal army. What was expected of +them? It seemed absurd; perhaps it was a feint. The flashes of many +rifles could be seen. Suddenly the brigade came running back down +the hill, helter-skelter, every man for himself. They passed us, +and went back toward the main lines on Seminary Ridge.</p> +<p>It was my duty to connect our left with the right of the pickets +of the next brigade. But I saw nobody. Ramseur had left no picket +in these parts. His men had gone, all of them, except those who had +remained and must remain in the wheat farther up the hill.</p> +<p>Where was the picket-line to which ours must connect? I made a +circuit to my left, a hundred yards or more; no pickets. I returned +and passed word down the line to the lieutenant in command of +Company A that I wanted to see him on the left. He came, and I +explained the trouble. The lieutenant did not know what to do. This +gentleman was a valuable officer in the line, but was out of place +in the battalion. He asked me what ought to be done. I replied that +we must not fail to connect, else there would be a gap in the line, +and how wide a gap nobody could tell. If I had known then what I +know now, I should have told him to report the condition to Colonel +Perrin, who was in command of the brigade, but I did otherwise; I +told him that if he would remain on the left, I would hunt for the +picket-line. He consented.</p> +<p>I first went to the left very far, and then to the rear and +searched a long time, but found nobody. I returned to the left of +Company A and proposed to go forward through the wheat and hunt for +our pickets. The lieutenant approved.</p> +<p>The word was passed down the line that I was going to the front. +I moved slowly up the hill through the wheat. There was a moon, +over which bunches of cloud passed rapidly. While the moon would be +hidden I went forward. When the cloud had passed, I stooped and +looked. Here and there in the wheat lay dead skirmishers, and guns, +and many signs of battle. The wheat had been trodden down.</p> +<p>Cautiously I moved on until I was a hundred yards in advance of +the battalion. I saw no picket. Here the wheat was standing, in +most places untrodden. I looked back down the hill; I could not see +our own men. I went forward again for forty yards. Now at my right +I saw a fence, or rather a line of bushes and briers which had +grown up where a fence had been in years past. This fence-row +stretched straight up the hill toward the cemetery. I went to it. +It would serve my purpose thoroughly. In the shelter of this +friendly row of bushes I crept slowly up the hill. I was now in +front of Company A's right.</p> +<p>The moon shone out and then was hidden. I was two hundred yards +in advance of the battalion. I laid my gun on the ground and +crawled along the fence-row for fifty yards, at every instant +pausing and looking. I reached a denser and taller clump of bushes, +and raised myself to my full height. In front were black spots in +the wheat--five paces apart--- a picket-line--whose?</p> +<p>The spots looked very black. Gray would look black in this wheat +with the moonlight on it. I turned my belt-buckle behind my back, +lest the metal should shine. The line of spots was directly in +front of me, and on both sides of the fence-row. The line seemed to +stretch across the front of the whole battalion. If that was our +picket, why should there be another in rear of it? They must be +Yankees.</p> +<p>I looked at them for two minutes. They were still as death. The +line was perfect. If it was a Confederate line, there might be men +nearer to me,--officers, or men going and returning in its +rear,--but the line seemed straight and perfect. The spots did not +seem tall enough for standing men. No doubt they were sitting in +the wheat with their guns in their laps. I heard no word--not a +sound except the noises coming from the crest of the hill beyond +them, where was the Federal line of battle. I looked back. Seminary +Ridge seemed very far. I crawled back to my gun, picked it up, +rose, and looked again toward the cemetery. I could no longer see +the spots. I walked back down the hill, moving off to my right in +order to strike the left of Company A. The battalion had not +budged.</p> +<p>I reported. The lieutenant was chagrined. I told him that I felt +almost sure that the men I had seen were Yankees. What to do? We +ought to have sent a man back to the brigade, but we did not. Why +we did not, I do not know, unless it was that we felt it our duty +to solve the difficulty ourselves. The left of the battalion was +unprotected; this would not do. Something must be done.</p> +<p>I suggested that the left platoon of Company A extend intervals +to ten paces and cover more ground. The lieutenant approved. The +left platoon extended intervals to ten paces, moving silently from +centre to left. This filled perhaps sixty yards of the unknown gap. +Still no pickets could be seen. I made a semicircle far to my left +and returned.</p> +<p>Captain Haskell was not there. He would have sent ten men to the +left until something was found. He would have filled the interval, +even had it required the whole battalion to stretch to twenty steps +apart, at least until he could report to Colonel Perrin, or General +Pender. Lieutenant Sharpe, in command of the battalion, was far to +the right--perhaps four hundred yards from us. We should have sent +word to him down the line, but we did not do it. The night was +growing. How wide was the gap? Why did not the pickets on the other +side of this gap search for us? If the enemy knew our condition, a +brigade or more might creep through the gap; still the lieutenant +did not propose anything.</p> +<p>At last I said that although the picket-line in front looked +like a Yankee line, it was yet possible that it was ours, and that +I thought I could get nearer to it than I had been before, and +speak to the men without great danger. Truth is, that I had begun +to fear sarcasm. What if, to-morrow morning, we should see a line +of gray pickets in our front? Should I ever hear the last of +it?</p> +<p>Again the lieutenant approved. He would have approved of +anything. He was a brave officer. I verily believe that if I had +proposed an advance of Company A up the hill, he would have +approved, and would have led the advance.</p> +<p>The company stood still, and I started again. I reached the +place where I had been before, and crawled on a few yards farther. +Again the thought came that there would have been some +communicating between that line and ours if that were Confederate. +If they were our men, we had been in their rear for three hours. +Impossible to suppose that nobody in that time should have come +back to the rear. Clearly it was a Federal line, and I was in its +front. Then it occurred to me that it was possible they had a man +or two in the fence-row between me and their line. There could be +no need for that, yet the idea made me shiver. At every yard of my +progress I raised my head, and the black spots were larger--and not +less black. They were very silent and very motionless--the sombre +night-picture of skirmishers on extreme duty; whoever they were, +they felt strongly the presence of the enemy.</p> +<p>Ten yards in front, and ten feet to the right, I saw a post--a +gate-post, I supposed. There was no gate. This fence-row, along +which I was crawling, indicated a fence rotted down or removed. +There had once been a gate hanging to that post and closing against +another post now concealed by the bushes of the fence-row. I would +crawl to that post out there, and speak to the men in front. They +would suppose that I was in the fence-row, and, if they fired, +would shoot into the bushes, while I should be safe behind the +post--such was my thought.</p> +<p>I reached the post. It was a hewn post of large size--post-oak, +I thought. I lay down behind it; I raised my head and looked. The +black spots were very near--perhaps thirty or forty yards in front. +The line stretched on to my right. I could not now see toward the +left--through the fence-row.</p> +<p>It was not necessary to speak very loud.</p> +<p>I asked, "Whose picket is that?"</p> +<p>My voice sounded strangely tremulous.</p> +<p>There was no answer.</p> +<p>If they were Confederates, I was in their rear, and there would +be no sense in their refusal to reply; some one would have said, +"Come up and see!" or something. There was no movement. I could see +that the black spots had become large objects; the moon was +shining.</p> +<p>I must ask again.</p> +<p>I remember that at that moment I thought of our Captain--dead +that day.</p> +<p>I spoke again, "Gentlemen, is that the picket of Ramseur's +brigade?"</p> +<p>No answer.</p> +<p>Again I spoke, "Gentlemen, is that Ramseur's North Carolina +brigade?"</p> +<p>Not a word.</p> +<p>It now seemed folly for me to remain. Who were these men? +Certainly Federals. I was in imminent danger of being captured. Two +or three men might rush forward and seize me before I could get to +my feet. Yet, would not a line of our men out here be silent? They +would be very near the enemy and would be very silent. But they +would send a man back to make me stop talking. They were Yankees; +but why did they not say something? or do something? Perhaps they +were in doubt about me. I was so near their lines they could hardly +believe me a Confederate. I half decided to slip away at once.</p> +<p>But I wished some conclusion to the matter. I wanted to satisfy +the lieutenant and myself also.</p> +<p>Again I spoke, "Will you please tell me what brigade that +is?"</p> +<p>A voice replied, "Our brigade!"</p> +<p>This reply, in my opinion, was distinctly Confederate. I had +heard it frequently. It was an old thing. Often, when waiting for +troops to pass, you would ask, "What regiment is that?" and +some-would-be wag would say, "Our regiment."</p> +<p>I rose to my feet behind the post, but dropped again as quickly. +Before I had stood erect the thought came that possibly the Yankees +also had this old by-word. Then another thought--had the Yankees +selected one man to reply to me? Had all but one been ordered to +preserve silence, and was this one an expert chosen to entrap me? A +man perhaps who knew something of the sayings in the Southern +army?</p> +<p>Now, in an effort to bring things to a pass, I shouted loud, +"What army do you belong to?"</p> +<p>Another voice shouted loud, "What army do you belong to?"</p> +<p>I had emphasized the word "army." He had emphasized the word +"you."</p> +<p>Perhaps they thought I might be one of their own men, sent out +in front and trying to return; but if that were the case, why did +they not bid me come in? If they thought me a Confederate, very +likely they thought I was trying to desert, and feeling my way +through fear of falling into the hands of the wrong people.</p> +<p>I replied at once, "I am a rebel."</p> +<p>What it was that influenced me to use the word I do not know, +unless it was that I thought that if they were our men I was safe, +being in their rear, and that if they were Yankees they would at +once accept the challenge. I wanted to end the matter.</p> +<p>They accepted.</p> +<p>A dozen voices shouted, "We are for the Union!" and half a dozen +rifles cracked.</p> +<p>They must have fired into the fence-row. I heard no bullet--but +then, no bullet can be heard at such a nearness.</p> +<p>I kept my post--flat on my face. It would not be best for me to +rise and run. Perhaps I could get off by doing so, but I could +manage better. I would remain quiet until they should think I had +gone. Then I would crawl away.</p> +<p>Two or three minutes passed. I was making up my mind to start. +Suddenly a gruff voice spoke. It was near me. It was in the +fence-row. A Yankee had crept toward me. He said, at an ordinary +pitch, but very gruffly, "Who <i>are</i> you, anyhow?"</p> +<p>If he is yet alive, these lines may inform him that I was Jones. +It was my time to be silent. I feared that he would continue to +come, but the next instant I knew that he was in doubt as to how +many I was, and I stuck fast.</p> +<p>I heard nothing more. No doubt he had given it up--had gone back +and reported that the enemy had disappeared from the immediate +front.</p> +<p>Five minutes more, and I had picked up my gun and was walking +back to our line. I struck it in front of Company C, whose men had +been warned that I was out, but who now had to be restrained from +firing on me. They had heard the voices up the hill, and bullets +had whistled over them, and they had thought me a prisoner, so when +they saw a man coming toward them they were itching to shoot.</p> +<p>We remained all night as we were, with a gap in the +skirmish-line at the left of Pender's division.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIII"></a>XXXIII</h2> +<h3>HELL</h3> +<center>"Each volley tells that thousands cease to breathe;<br> +Death rides upon the sulphury Siroc,<br> +Red Battle stamps his foot, and nations feel the shock."<br> + --BYRON.</center> +<br> +<p>The morning came--the morning of Friday, the 3d of July. Just as +the sun was rising in our faces the Federal skirmishers advanced. +Down the hill they came at the run. Lieutenant Sharpe ordered a +countercharge, and the battalion rushed to meet the enemy. We were +almost intermixed with them before they ran. And now our lieutenant +of Company A showed his mettle. He sprang before his company, sword +in his left hand and revolver in the other, and led the fight, +rushing right up the hill, and, when near enough, firing every +barrel of his pistol. We took a few prisoners. Both lines settled +back to their first positions.</p> +<p>We had lost some men. A detail of infirmary people came from the +rear to carry off the wounded. Hutto had been shot badly. As four +men lifted the stretcher, one of them was killed, and Hutto rolled +heavily to the ground. Another of the litter bearers was shot, +leaving but two; they raised their stretcher in the air and moved +it about violently. The Yankees ceased firing.</p> +<p>The day had begun well, but we knew there was long and deadly +work ahead. We began to make protection. Low piles of rails, +covered with wheat-straw and earth dug up by bare hands, soon +appeared along the line. The protection was slight, yet by lying +flat our bodies could not be seen. On their side the Yankee +skirmishers also had worked, and were now behind low heaps of rails +and earth. Practice-shooting began, and was kept up without +intermission for hour after hour.</p> +<p>We lay in the broiling sun. Orders came down the line for the +men to be sparing with water.</p> +<p>From my pit I could look back and see the cupola of the +Seminary--could see through the cupola from one window to the +other. The Seminary was General Lee's headquarters.</p> +<p>To our right and front was a large brick barn--the Bliss barn. +Captain Haskell had been killed by a bullet fired from this barn. +It was five hundred yards from the pits of Company A.</p> +<p>The Bliss barn was held by the Yankees. The skirmishers beyond +the right of the battalion charged and took it. A regiment advanced +from the Federal side, drove our men off, and occupied the barn. +They began to enfilade the pits of Company A. All the while, we +were engaged in front.</p> +<p>A shot from the barn killed Sergeant Rhodes. Orders came down +the line for me to take his place at the right of the company.</p> +<p>Since the day before, I had thought that I had one friend in +Company A--Rhodes. Now Rhodes was dead.</p> +<p>We fired at the men who showed themselves at the barn--right +oblique five hundred yards.</p> +<p>We fired at the skirmishers behind the rail piles in front--two +hundred yards.</p> +<p>A man in a pit opposite mine hit my cartridge-box. I could see +him loading. His hand was in the air. I saw him as low as his +shoulder. I took good aim. A question arose in my mind--and again I +thought of the Captain: Am I angry with that man? Do I feel any +hatred of him? And the answer came: No; I am fighting for life and +liberty; I hate nobody. I fired, and saw the man no more.</p> +<p>Our men far to the right retook the barn. Again the enemy +recovered it.</p> +<p>Cartridges were running low. Some brave men ran back to the line +of battle for more cartridges. The skirmishing was incessant. Our +losses were serious. We had fought constantly from sunrise until +past midday, and there was no sign of an ending.</p> +<p>At one o'clock a shell from our rear flew far above us, and then +the devil broke loose. More than a hundred guns joined in, and the +air was full of sounds. The Bliss barn was in flames. The Federal +batteries answering doubled the din and made the valley and its +slopes a hell of hideous noises. All of the enemy's missiles went +far over our heads; we were much nearer to the Federal artillery +than to our own. Some of our shells, perhaps from defective powder, +fell amongst us; some would burst in mid air, and the fragments +would hurtle down. The skirmishing ceased--in an ocean one drop +more is naught.</p> +<p>I walked down the line of Company A. Peacock was lying dead with +his hat over his face. The wounded--those disabled--were +unrelieved. The men were prostrate in their pits, powder-stained, +haggard, battle-worn, and stern. Still shrieked the shells +overhead, and yet roared the guns to front and rear--a pandemonium +of sight and sound reserved from the foundation of the world for +the valley of Gettysburg. The bleeding sun went out in smoke. The +smell of burning powder filled the land. Before us and behind us +bursting caissons added to the hellish magnificence of this awful +picture,--in its background a school of theology, and in its +foreground the peaceful city of the dead.</p> +<p>For more than an hour the hundreds of hostile guns shook earth +and sky; then there was silence and stillness. But the stillness +was but brief. Out from our rear and right now marched the +Confederate infantry on to destruction.</p> +<p>We of the skirmishers felt that our line was doomed. I saw men +stand, regardless of exposure, and curse the day. For more than +eighteen hours we had been near the Federal lines. We had no hope. +We knew that our line, marching out for attack, could not even +reach the enemy. Before it could come within charging distance it +would be beaten to pieces by artillery. The men looked at the +advancing line and said one to another, "Lee has made a +mistake."</p> +<p>The line came on. It was descending the slope of Seminary +Ridge.</p> +<p>The Federal batteries began to work upon the line. Into the +valley and up the hill it came, with all the cannon in our front +and right,--and far to the right,--pumping death into its +ranks.</p> +<p>I gave it up. I thought of Captain Haskell, and of his words +concerning General Lee's inclination to attack. I was no military +man; I knew nothing of scientific war, but I was sure that time had +knelled the doom of our poor line--condemned to attack behind stone +fences the flower of the Army of the Potomac protected by two +hundred guns. It was simply insane. It was not war, neither was it +magnificent; it was too absurd to be grand.</p> +<p>Great gaps were made in the line. It came on and passed over the +skirmishers. The left of the line passed over us just beyond the +spot where Rhodes lay dead. I could see down our line. It was +already in tatters. Writers of the South and of the North have all +described Pickett's charge as gallant, and have said that his line +came on like troops on dress-parade. It was gallant enough--too +gallant; but there was no dress-parade. Our officers and men on +Seminary Ridge were looking at Pickett's division from its rear; +the blue men were looking upon it from its front; from neither +position could the alignment be seen; to them it looked straight +and fine; but that line passed by me so that I looked along it, and +I know that it was swayed and bent long before it fired a shot. As +it passed over us, it was scattered--many men thirty, forty, even +fifty yards in front of other men. No shame to Pickett's men for +this. The charge should not be distinguished for mere gallantry, +but for something far superior--endurance. From right and front and +left, a semicircle of fire converged upon their ranks and strewed +the ground with their dead. For half a mile they advanced under an +iron tempest such as Confederate troops never saw elsewhere than at +Gettysburg--- a tempest in which no army on earth could live.</p> +<p>I was hoping that the line would break and run before it came +under the fire of infantry; but it did not break. It was ragged, +because the gaps could not be filled as fast as they were made; but +the fragments kept on up the hill, uniting as they went.</p> +<p>And the line disappears in smoke, which tells us, as well as the +sound, that the Federal infantry and ours have at last joined their +battle. Here and there we see a real battle-flag violently shaking; +the thunder of the cannon no more is heard; the smoke recedes, and +our men--those that are left, but not the line--still go +forward.</p> +<p>Pickett has reached the hostile infantry. On his left and right +swarm out against his flanks the army of the enemy, while in his +front still stand the stone bulwarks over which but few of his men +live to pass.</p> +<p>Yet the fight still rages. The Federal skirmishers everywhere +have long ago withdrawn, so that we can stand and move and watch +the struggle for the graves. In a narrow circle on the hill, where +a few trees stand, smoke builds up and eddies. Up there death and +fate are working as they never worked. Lines of infantry from +either flank move toward the whirlpool. They close upon the +smoke.</p> +<p>Now we see a few men dropping back out of the smoke and running +half-bent down the hill. Their numbers increase. All who have the +hardihood to run try to escape, but many remain and become +prisoners.</p> +<p>A brigade or two of the enemy advance from their works on their +right and endeavour to intercept the fugitives. A brigade of +Confederates advances on our left, but stops in the wheat. The +battle of Gettysburg is over.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIV"></a>XXXIV</h2> +<h3>FALLING-WATERS</h3> +<center> + +"Prepare you, generals:<br> +The enemy comes on in gallant show;<br> +Their bloody sign of battle is hung out,<br> +And something to be done immediately."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>On the night of the 4th the retreat began, Pender's division +leading. Rain fell in torrents. Rations were not to be had. The +slow retreat continued on the next day and the next. At Hagerstown +we formed line of battle.</p> +<p>The sharp-shooters were in front. The Federal skirmishers +advanced against us. We held our own, but lost some men.</p> +<p>The rain kept on. We were in a field of wheat, behind rifle-pits +made of fence-rails. We rubbed the ears of wheat in our hands, and +ate the grain uncooked. The regiment sent out foraging parties, but +with little success. There was great suffering from hunger.</p> +<p>For three days and nights we were on the line at Hagerstown, +skirmishing every day. Captain Shooter of the First now commanded +the battalion. We were told that the Potomac was at a high stage, +and that we must wait until a pontoon bridge could be laid.</p> +<p>At ten o'clock on the night of the 13th the sharp-shooters +received orders to hold their line at all hazards until dawn; then +to retire. The division was withdrawing and depended upon us to +prevent the advance of the enemy. Rain fell all night. We were wet +to the skin and almost exhausted through hunger, fatigue, and +watching.</p> +<p>At daylight we were back at the breastworks. Everybody had gone. +We followed after the troops. The rain ceased, but the mud was +deep; the army had passed over it before us. We marched some ten +miles. After sunrise we could hear a few shots, now and then, +behind us. We supposed that the enemy's advance was firing on our +stragglers as they would try to get away. The march was very +difficult, because of the mud and mainly because of our +exhaustion.</p> +<p>We reached the top of a high hill overlooking the Potomac a mile +away. It must have been after ten o'clock. On the Virginia hills we +could see a great host of men, and long lines of artillery and +wagons--some filing slowly away to the south, others standing in +well-ordered ranks. On some prominent hills batteries had been +planted. It was a great sight. The sun was shining on this display. +Lee's army had effected a crossing.</p> +<p>On the Maryland side the road descending was full of troops. At +the river was a dense mass of wagons, and brigade upon brigade with +stacked arms, the division resting and waiting for its turn to +cross; for there was but one bridge, over which a stream of men was +yet passing, and it would take hours for all to cross.</p> +<p>We were halted on the hill. A moment was sufficient for the men +to decide that the halt would be a long one. Down everybody dropped +on the ground, to rest and sleep.</p> +<p>The next thing I knew I was wide awake, with rifles cracking all +around me. I sprang to my feet. Somebody, just in my rear, fired, +with his gun at my left ear; for weeks I was deaf in that ear. Men +on horses were amongst us--blue men with drawn sabres and with +pistols which they were firing. Our men were scattering, not in +flight, but to deploy.</p> +<p>A horseman was coming at me straight--twenty yards from me. He +was standing in his stirrups and had his sword uplifted. I aimed +and fired. He still came on, but for a moment only. He doubled up +and went headforemost to the ground.</p> +<p>The battalion had deployed. But few, if any, of the horsemen who +had ridden into us had got away; but they were only the advance +squadron. More were coming. Our line was some two hundred and fifty +yards long, covering the road. We advanced. It would not do to +allow the enemy to see, over the crest of the hill, our compacted +troops at the head of the bridge. The numbers of the Federals +constantly increased. They outflanked us on our right. They +dismounted and deployed as skirmishers. They advanced, and the +fighting began.</p> +<p>Company A was in an open ground covered with, dewberry vines, +and the berries were ripe. We ate dewberries and loaded and fired. +I never saw so many dewberries or any so good. Bullets whizzed over +us and amongst us, but the men ate berries. I had on a white straw +hat that I had swapped for with one of the men; where he had got +it, I don't know. My hat was a target. I took it off.</p> +<p>The enemy continued to extend his line beyond our right. From +the division below, the first regiment was sent back to help us. +The regiment deployed on our right and began firing. The enemy +still increased, and other regiments were sent back to us, until we +had a skirmish-line more than a mile long, and had a reserve force +ready to strengthen any weak part of the line.</p> +<p>The Federals broke through our line at the left, but the line +was 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.</p> +<p>Company H of the First, only about fifteen men, were in a house, +firing from the windows. Suddenly they saw the enemy on both their +flanks and rapidly gaining their rear. A rush was made from the +house, and the company barely escaped, losing a few men wounded, +who, however, got away.</p> +<p>General Pettigrew was killed. The fight kept growing. It had +already lasted three hours and threatened to continue.</p> +<p>At length, we were forced back by the constantly increasing +numbers of the Federals. As we readied the top of the hill again, +we could see that the bridge was clear. All the wagons and troops +were on the south side of the river. On the bridge were only a few +straggling men running across.</p> +<p>And now came our turn. We retreated down the hill. At once its +crest was occupied by the Federal skirmishers, and at once they +began busily to pop away at us. I ran along, holding my white hat +in my hand.</p> +<p>We reached lower ground, and our batteries in Virginia began to +throw shells over our heads to keep back the enemy. The battalion +flanked to the right, struck the bridge, and rushed headlong +across, with Yankee bullets splashing the water to the right and +left; meanwhile our batteries continued to throw shells over our +heads, and Federal guns, now unlimbered on the Maryland side, were +answering with spirit.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXV"></a>XXXV</h2> +<h3>AWAKENINGS</h3> +<center> + "'Tis +far off;<br> +And rather like a dream than an assurance<br> +That my remembrance warrants."--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>With the passage of the sharp-shooters into Virginia at Falling +Waters, the campaign was at an end. The pontoon bridge was cut. We +marched a mile from the river and halted; it was five o'clock. At +night we received two days' rations; I ate mine at one meal.</p> +<p>On the 15th the division moved to Bunker Hill. I gave out. +Starvation and a full meal had been too much for me. I suffered +greatly, not from fatigue, but from illness. I stepped out of +ranks, went fifty yards into the thicket, and lay down under a +tree.</p> +<p>That the enemy was following was likely enough; I hardly cared. +I shrank from captivity, but I thought of death without fearing +it.</p> +<p>My mind was in a peculiar attitude toward the war. We had heard +of the surrender of Vicksburg. Not even the shadow of +demoralization had touched Lee's army in consequence of Gettysburg; +but now men talked despairingly--with Vicksburg gone the war seemed +hopeless.</p> +<p>Under the tree was peace. Company H had gone on. Company A had +gone on. What interest had they in me or I in them? I had +fever.</p> +<p>The sounds of the troops marching on the road reached me in the +thicket. A few moments ago I was marching on the road. I was one of +fifty thousand; they have gone on.</p> +<p>Here, under this tree, I am one. But what one? I came I know not +whence; I go I know not whither. Let me go. What matter where? My +Captain has gone.</p> +<p>Perhaps I wander in mind. I have fever.</p> +<p>At one time I think I am going to die, and I long for death. The +life I live is too difficult.</p> +<p>And the South is hopeless. Better death than subjection. The +Captain has not died too soon.</p> +<p>What a strong, noble, far-seeing man! I shall never forget him. +I shall never see his like, I envy him. He has resolved all doubt; +I am still enchained to a fate that drags me on and on into ... +into what? What does the Captain think now? Does he see me lying +here? Can he put thoughts into my mind? Can he tell me who I am? +What does he think now of slavery? of State rights? of war?</p> +<p>He is at peace; he knows that peace is better. Yes, peace is +better. He is at peace. Would I also were at peace.</p> +<p>I slept, and when I awoke my strength had returned. I crept to +the road, fearing to see Federal troops. Neither Confederate nor +Federal was in sight. I tramped steadily southward and caught up at +Bunker Hill.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>By the 24th of July we had crossed the Blue Ridge and were +approaching Culpeper.</p> +<p>During the months of August and September we were in camp near +Orange Court-House.</p> +<p>My distaste for the service became excessive, unaccountably, I +should have thought, but for the fact that my interest in life had +so greatly suffered because of the Captain's death.</p> +<p>My friend was gone. I wished for nothing definite. I had no +purpose. To fight for the South was my duty, and I felt it, but I +had no relish for fighting. Fighting was absurd.</p> +<p>The Captain had said, on the last night of his life, that he +imagined General Lee and perhaps General McClellan felt great +reluctance in giving orders that would result in the death of +Americans at the hands of Americans. I remembered that at +Gettysburg, in the act of pulling the trigger, I had found no +hatred in me toward the man I was trying to kill. I wondered if the +men generally were without hate. I believed they were; there might +be exceptions.</p> +<p>We had lost General Pender at Gettysburg. We were now Wilcox's +division. We had camp guard and picket duty.</p> +<p>Since the Captain's death the battalion of sharp-shooters had +been dissolved, and I was back in Company H. The life was +monotonous. Some conscripts were received into each company. Many +of the old men would never return to us. Some were lying with two +inches of earth above their breasts; some were in the distant South +on crutches they must always use.</p> +<p>The spirit of the regiment was unbroken. The men were serious. +Captain Barnwell read prayers at night in the company.</p> +<p>I thought much but disconnectedly, and was given to solitude. I +made an object of myself. My condition appealed to my sympathy. +Where had there ever been such an experience? I thought of myself +as Berwick, and pitied him. I talked to him, mentally, calling him +<i>you</i>.</p> +<p>Dr. Frost was beyond my reach. I wanted to talk to him. He had +been promoted, and was elsewhere.</p> +<p>At night I had dreams, and they were strange dreams. For many +successive nights I could see myself, and always I thought of the +"me" that I saw as a different person from the "me" that saw.</p> +<p>My health suffered greatly, but I did not report to the +surgeon.</p> +<p>Somehow I began to feel for my unknown friends. They had long +ago given me up for dead.</p> +<p>Perhaps, however, some were still hoping against certainty. My +mind was filling with fancies concerning them--concerning her. How +I ever began to think of such, a possibility I could not know.</p> +<p>My fancies embraced everything. My family might be rich and +powerful and intelligent; it, might be humble, even being the +strong likelihood was that it was neither, but was of medium +worth.</p> +<p>My fancy--it began in a dream--pictured the face of a woman, +young and sweet weeping for me. I wept for her and for myself. Who +was she? Was she all fancy?</p> +<p>Since I had been in Company H, I had never spoken to a woman +except the nurses in the hospitals. I had seen many women in +Richmond and elsewhere. No face of my recollection fitted with the +face of my dream. None seemed it's equal in sweetness and +dignity.</p> +<p>I had written love letters at the dictation of one or two of the +men. I had read love stories. I felt as the men had seemed to feel, +and as the lovers in the stories had seemed to feel.</p> +<p>No one knew, since the Captain's death, even the short history +of myself that I knew. I grew morose. The men avoided me, all but +one--Jerry Butler. Somehow I found myself messing with him. He was +a great forager, and kept us both in food. The rations were almost +regular, but the fat bacon and mouldy meal turned my stomach. The +other men were in good health, and ate heartily of the coarse food +given them. Butler had bacon and meal to sell.</p> +<p>The men wondered what was the matter with me. Their wonder did +not exceed my own. Butler invited my confidence, but I could not +decide to say a word; one word would have made it necessary to tell +him all I knew. He would have thought me insane.</p> +<p>I did my duty mechanically, serving on camp guard and on picket +regularly, but feeling interest in nothing beyond my own inner +self.</p> +<p>At times the battle of Manassas and the spot in the forest would +recur to me with great vividness and power. Where and what was my +original regiment? I pondered over the puzzle, and I had much time +in which to ponder. I remembered that Dr. Frost had told me that if +ever I got the smallest clew to my past, I must determine then and +there to never let it go.</p> +<p>Sometimes instants of seeming recollection would flash by and be +gone before I could define them. They left no result but +doubt--sometimes fear. Doubts of the righteousness of war beset +me--not of this war, but war. I had a vague notion that in some +hazy past I had listened to strong reasons against war. Were they +from the Captain? No; he had been against war, but he had fought +for the South with relish--they did not come from him. None the +less--perhaps I ought to say therefore--did they more strongly +impress me, for I indistinctly knew that they came from some one +who not only gave precept but also lived example.</p> +<p>Who was he? I might not hope to know.</p> +<p>Added to these doubts concerning war, there were in my mind at +times strong desires for a better life--a life more mental. The men +were good men--serious, religious men. Nothing could be said +against them; but I felt that I was not entirely of them, that they +had little thought beyond their personal duties, which they were +willing always to do provided their officers clearly prescribed +them, and their personal attachments, in which I could have no +part. Of course there were exceptions.</p> +<p>I felt in some way that though the men avoided me, they yet had +a certain respect for me--for my evident suffering, I supposed. Yet +an incident occurred which showed me that their respect was not +mere pity. The death of our Captain had left a vacancy in Company +H. A lieutenant was to be elected by the men. The natural candidate +was our highest non-commissioned officer, who was favoured by the +company's commander. The officer in command did not, however, use +influence upon the men to secure votes. My preference for the +position was Louis Bellot, who had been dangerously wounded at +Manassas, and who, we heard, would soon return to the company. I +took up his cause, and, without his knowledge, secured enough votes +to elect him.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>On the 8th of October we advanced to the river. For me it was a +miserable march. My mind was in torture, and my strength was +failing. Doubts of the righteousness of war had changed to doubts +of this war. It was not reason that caused these doubts. Reason +told me that the invaders should be driven back. The South had not +been guilty of plunging the two countries into war; the South had +tried to avert war. The only serious question which my mind could +raise upon the conduct of the South was: Had we sufficiently tried +to avert war? Had we done all that we could? I did not know, and I +doubted.</p> +<p>As we advanced, I looked upon long lines of infantry and cannon +marching on to battle, and I thought of all this immense +preparation for wholesale slaughter of our own countrymen with +horror in my heart. Why could not this war have been avoided? I did +not know, but I felt that an overwhelming responsibility attached +somewhere, for it was not likely that all possibilities of peace +had been exhausted by our people.</p> +<p>As to the Yankees, I did not then think of them. Their crimes +and their responsibilities were their own. I had nothing to do with +them; but I was part of the South, and the Southern cause was mine, +and upon me also weighed the crime of unjust war if it were unjust +upon our side.</p> +<p>The thought of the Captain gave me great relief. He had shown me +the cause of the South; he had died for it; it could not be wrong. +I looked in the faces of the officers and men around me and read +patient endurance for the right. I was comforted. I laughed at +myself and said, Berwick, you are getting morbid; you are bilious; +go to the doctor and get well of your fancies.</p> +<p>Then the thought of the Northern cause came to me. Do not the +Federal soldiers also think their cause just? If not, what sort of +men are they? They must believe they are right. And one side or the +other must be wrong. Which is it? They are millions, and we are +millions. Millions of men are joined together to perpetrate wrong +while believing that they are right? Can such a condition be?</p> +<p>Even supposing that most men are led in their beliefs by other +men in whose judgment they have confidence, are the leaders of +either side impure?</p> +<p>No; if they are wrong, they are not wrong intentionally. Men may +differ conscientiously upon state policy, even upon ethics.</p> +<p>Then must I conclude that the North, believing itself right, is +wrong in warring upon the South? What is the North fighting for? +For union and for abolition of slavery; but primarily for +union.</p> +<p>And is union wrong? Not necessarily wrong.</p> +<p>What is the South, fighting for? For State rights and for +slavery; but principally for State rights.</p> +<p>And is the doctrine of State rights wrong? Not necessarily +wrong.</p> +<p>Then, may both North, and South be right?</p> +<p>The question startled me. I had heard that idea before. Where? +Not in the army, I was certain. I tried hard to remember, but had +to confess failure. The result of my thought was only the +suggestion that both of two seemingly opposite thoughts might +possibly be true.</p> +<p>On that night I dreamed of my childhood. My dream took me to a +city, where I was at school under a teacher who was my friend, and +at whose house I now saw him. The man's face was so impressed upon +my mind that when I awoke I retained his features. All day of the +9th, while we were crossing the Rapidan and continuing our march +through Madison Court-House and on through Culpeper, I thought of +the face of my dream. I thought of little else. Food was repugnant. +I had fever, and was full of fancies. I was surprised by the +thought that I had twice already been ill in the army. Once was at +the time of the battle of Fredericksburg; but when and where was +the other? I did not know, yet I was sure that I had been sick in +the army before I joined Captain Haskell's company, and before I +ever saw Dr. Frost.</p> +<p>Long did I wonder over this, and not entirely without result. +Suddenly I connected the face of my dream with my forgotten +illness. But that was all. My old tutor was a doctor and had +attended me. I felt sure of so much.</p> +<p>Then I wondered if I could by any means find the Doctor's name. +Some name must be connected with the title. That he was Dr. +Some-one I had no doubt. I tried to make Dr. Frost's face fit the +face of my dream, but it would not fit. Besides, I knew that Dr. +Frost had never been my teacher.</p> +<p>We had gone into bivouac about one o'clock, some two miles north +of Madison Court-House. This advance was over ground that was not +unfamiliar to me. The mountains in the distance and the hills near +by, the rivers and the roads, the villages and the general aspect +of this farming country, had been impressed upon my mind first when +alone I hurried forward to join Jackson's command on its famous +march around Pope; and, later, when we had returned from the +Shenandoah Valley after Sharpsburg, and more recently still, on our +retreat from Pennsylvania.</p> +<p>What General Lee's purposes were now, caused much speculation in +the camp. It was evident that, if the bulk of the army had not as +yet uncovered Richmond, our part of it was very far to the left. We +might be advancing to the Valley, or we might be trying to get to +Meade's rear, just as Jackson had moved around Pope in sixty-two; +another day might show. The most of the men believed that we were +on a flank march similar to Jackson's, and some of them went so far +as to say that both Ewell's and Hills corps were now near Madison +Court-House.</p> +<p>I felt but little interest in the talk of the men. My mind was +upon myself. I gave my comrades no encouragement to speak with me, +but lay apart, moody and feverish. Occasionally my thought, it is +true, reverted to the situation of the army, but only for a moment. +Something was about to be done; but if I could have controlled +events, I would not have known what to choose. One thing, however, +began to loom clear through the dim future: if we were working to +get to Meade's rear, that general was in far greater danger than he +had been at Gettysburg. With Lee at Manassas Junction, between +Meade and Washington, the Army of the Potomac would yield from +starvation, or fight at utter disadvantage; and there was no army +to help near by, as McClellan's at Alexandria in sixty-two.</p> +<p>The night brought no movement.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXVI"></a>XXXVI</h2> +<h3>THE ALPHABET</h3> +<center> + +"I stoop not to despair;<br> +For I have battled with mine agony,<br> +And made me wings wherewith to overfly<br> +The narrow circus of my dungeon wall."--BYRON.</center> +<br> +<p>On the next day, the 10th, we marched through Culpeper. I +recognized the place; I had straggled through it on the road to +Gettysburg. Again we went into bivouac early.</p> +<p>That afternoon I again thought of Dr. Frost's advice to hold to +any clew I should ever get and work it out; I had a clew: I +wondered how I could make a step toward an end.</p> +<p>To recover a lost name seemed difficult. The doctor had said +will was required. My will was good. I began with the purpose of +thinking all names that I could recall. My list was limited. +Naturally my mind went over the roll of Company H, which, from +having heard so often, I knew by heart. Adams, Bell, Bellot, and so +on; the work brought an idea. I remembered hearing some one say +that a forgotten name might be recovered with the systematic use of +the alphabet. I wondered why I had not thought at once of this. I +felt a great sense of relief. I now had a purpose and a plan.</p> +<p>At once I began to go through the A-b's. The first name I could +get was Abbey; the next, Abbott, and so on, through all names built +upon the letter A. I knew nobody by such names. My lost name might +be one of these, but it did not seem to be, and I had nothing to +rely upon except the hope that the real name, when found, would +kindle at its touch a spark in my memory. Finally all the A's were +exhausted--nothing.</p> +<p>Then I took up regularly and patiently the B's. They resulted in +nothing. I tried C, both hard and soft, thinking intently whether +the sound awoke any response in my brain.</p> +<p>I abandoned the soft C, but hard C did not sound impossible; I +stored it up for future examination.</p> +<p>Then I went through D and E, and so on down to G, which I +separated into two sounds, as I had already done with C, soft and +hard. This examination resulted in my putting hard G alongside of +hard C.</p> +<p>H, I, and J were examined with like result--nothing.</p> +<p>The K was at once given a place with the preferred letters.</p> +<p>L, M, N, O were speedily rejected.</p> +<p>At P I halted long, and at last decided to hold it in reserve, +but not to give it equal rank with the others.</p> +<p>Q gave me little trouble. I ran down all possible names in Q-u, +and rejected all.</p> +<p>The remainder of the letters were examined and discarded.</p> +<p>In order of seniority I now had the following initial letters: C +hard, G hard, and K, with P a possibility.</p> +<p>It was now very late, but I could not sleep. My mind was active, +though I found to my surprise that it was more nearly calm than it +had been for days. I knew that I ought to sleep, but I seemed on +track of discovery. It had taken me hours of unremitting labour to +get where I was,--monotonous but interesting labour--and it would +likely take me hours more to advance a single step farther.</p> +<p>A sudden idea presented itself. What if the name was a very +unusual name, one, in fact, that I had never heard, or seen +written, except as the name of this Doctor? This thought included +other thoughts--one was the idea of a written name. I had been +following but one line of approach, while there were two,--sound +and form. I had not considered the written approach, but now I saw +the importance of that process. Another thought was, whether it +would help me for the name to be not merely unusual, but entirely +unknown. I could not decide this question. I saw reasons for and +against. If it was an utterly unknown name, except as applied to +the Doctor, I might never recover it; I might continue to roll +names and names through my brain for years without result, if my +brain could bear such thought for so long. I pictured in fancy an +old man who had forgotten in time his own name, and had accepted +another, wasting, and having wasted, the years of his life in +hunting a word impossible and valueless. But I fought this fear and +put it to sleep. The uncommon name would cause me to reject all +common names, perhaps at first presentation; my attention would be +concentrated on peculiar sounds and forms. If my mind were now in +condition to respond to the name, I might get it very soon.</p> +<p>In debating this point, I suppose that I lost sight of my +objective, for I sank to sleep.</p> +<p>At daylight I was awake. My mind held fast the results of the +night's work. I wrote as follows:--</p> +<p>C G K.... P</p> +<p>Before we marched I had arranged in groups the names that +impressed me. I had C without any following.</p> +<p>For G, I had <i>Gayle</i>, or <i>Gail</i>.</p> +<p>For K, <i>Kame, Kames, Kean, Key, Kinney, Knight</i>.</p> +<p>For P, only <i>Payne</i>.</p> +<p>We marched. My head was full of my list of names. I knew them +without looking at what I had written.</p> +<p>All at once I dropped the C. I had failed to add to the bare +initial--nothing in my thought could follow that C.</p> +<p>Why had I held the C so long? There must be some reason. What +was its peculiarity? The question was to be solved before I would +leave it. It did not take long. I decided that I had been attracted +to it simply because its sound was identical with K. Then K loomed +up large in my mind and took enormous precedence.</p> +<p>The name Payne was given up.</p> +<p>But another, or rather similar, question arose in regard to +Payne. If K was so prominent, why had Payne influenced me? It took +me an hour to find the reason, but I found it, for I had determined +to find it. It was simple, after all--the attraction lay in the +letters a-y-n-e. At once I added to my K's the name Kayne, although +the name evoked no interest. Thinking of this name, I saw that Kane +was much easier and added it to my list, wondering why I had not +thought of it before.</p> +<p>The process of exclusion continued. Why Kinney? And why Knight? +The peculiarity in Kinney seemed to be the two syllables; I did not +drop the name, but tried to sound each of my others as two +syllables.</p> +<p>"What's that you say, Jones?"</p> +<p>It was Butler, marching by my side, that asked the question.</p> +<p>I stammered some reply. I had been saying aloud, "Gay-le, Ka-me, +Ka-mes, Kay-me."</p> +<p>The march continued. I knew not whether we were passing through +woods or fields. My head was bent; my eyes looked on the ground, +but saw it not. My mouth was shut, but words rolled their sounds +through my ears--monotonous sounds with but one or two consonants +and one or two vowels.</p> +<p>Suddenly association asserted itself. I thought of Captain +Haskell's quotation from some Persian poet; what was the poet's +name? I soon had it--Khayyam--pronounced Ki-yam, I added Khayyam +and Kiyam to my list. We marched on.</p> +<p>Why Knight? I did not know. My work seemed to revolve about K-h. +I felt greatly encouraged with Khayyam,--pronounced Ki-yam,--which +had the K sound, and in form had the h. But was there nothing more +in Knight? Nothing except the ultimate t and the long vowel, and +the vowel I had also in Ki-yam; the lines converged every way +toward Ki, or toward K-h-a-y, pronounced Ki.</p> +<p>Again I tried repeatedly, using the long sound of i: "Gi-le, +Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me, Ki-me," and kept on repeating Ki-me, +involuntarily holding to the unfamiliar sound.</p> +<p>For a long time I worked without any result, and I became +greatly puzzled. Then a help came. The name was that of a doctor. I +repeated over and over, "Doctor Gay-le, Doctor Ka-me, Doctor +Ka-mes, Doctor Kay-ne, Doctor Gi-le, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-mes, +Doctor Ki-yam." The last name sounded nearly right.</p> +<p>The face of my dream was yet easily called up--a swarthy face +with bright black eyes and a great brow. I repeated all the words +again, and at each name I brought my will to bear and tried to fit +the face to the name: "Doctor Gay-le, they do not fit; Doctor +Ka-me, they do not fit; Doctor Kay-ne; no; Doctor Gi-le; still less +Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p> +<p>The words riveted me. They did not satisfy me, yet they +dominated all other words. The strangeness of the name did not +affect me; in fact, the name was neither strange nor familiar; and +just because the name did not sound strange, I took courage and +hope. I reasoned that such a name ought to sound strange, and that +it did not was cheering. I was on the brink of something, I knew +not what.</p> +<p>We stacked arms by the side of the road, and Ewell's corps +marched by on a road crossing ours; it took so long to go by that +we were ordered to bivouac.</p> +<p>My brain was in a stir. I asked myself why I should attach so +great importance to the recovery of one man's name, and I answered +that this one name was the clew to my past life, and was the +beginning of my future life; the recovery of one name would mean +all recovery; I had resolved to never abandon the pursuit of this +name, and I felt convinced that I should find it, and soon. What +was to result I would risk; months before, I had not had the +courage to wish to know my past, but now I would welcome change. I +was wretched, alone in the world, tired of life; I would hazard the +venture. Then, too, I knew that if my former condition should prove +unfortunate or shameful, I still had the chance to escape it--by +being silent, if not in any other way. Nothing could be much worse +than my present state.</p> +<p>That afternoon and night we were on picket, having been thrown +forward a mile from the bivouac of the division. There was now but +one opinion among the men, who were almost hilarious,--Lee's army +was flanking Meade, that is, Ewell and Hill, for Longstreet had +been sent to Georgia with his corps. But why were we making such +short marches? Several reasons were advanced for this. Wilson said +we were getting as near as possible first, "taking a running +start," to use his words. Youmans thought that General Lee wanted +to save the army from straggling before the day of battle. Mackay +thought Ewell would make the long march, and that we must wait on +his movement. Wilson said that could not be so, as Ewell had +marched to our right.</p> +<p>Nobody had any other belief than that we were getting around +Meade. We were now almost at the very spot, within a few miles of +it, from which Jackson's rapid march to Pope's rear had begun, +while Meade now occupied Pope's former position. Could General Lee +hope that Meade, with Pope's example staring him in the face, would +allow himself to be entrapped? This question was discussed by the +men.</p> +<p>Mackay thought that the movement of our army through the Valley +last June, when we went into Pennsylvania, would be the first thing +Meade would recall.</p> +<p>Wilson answered this by saying that the season was too far +advanced for Meade to fear so great a movement; still, Wilson +thought that General Meade would hardly suppose that Lee would try +to effect the very thing he had once succeeded in; besides, he +said, every general must provide against every contingency, but it +is clearly impossible to do so, and in neglecting some things for +others, he runs his risks and takes his chances. Meade would not +retreat until he knew that the flank movement was in progress; to +retreat in fear of having to retreat would be nonsense; and if +Meade waited only a few hours too long, it would be all up with +him; and that if he started too early, Lee might change his tactics +and follow the retreat.</p> +<p>On the picket-line my search was kept up. We were near the North +Fork of the Rappahannock. No enemy was on our side of the river, at +least in our front. Before nightfall we had no vedettes, for we +overlooked the river, and every man was a vedette, as it were. I +lay in the line, trying to take the first step leading to the +reconstruction of my life.</p> +<p>"Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me, Doctor Ki-me."</p> +<p>The words clung to me obstinately. Every other name had been +abandoned, I asked not why; involuntarily all words with weaker +power to hold me had been dropped. Yet Ki-me, strong as it was, was +imperfect. It did not seem wrong, but deficient rather; something +was needed to complete it--what was that something?</p> +<p>Evening was drawing on. Again I thought of Khayyam, and I +wondered why. I vexed my brain to know why. Was it because Khayyam +was a poet? No; that could be no reason. Was it because he was a +Persian? I could see no connection there. Was it because of the +peculiar spelling of the name? It might be. What was the +peculiarity? One of form, not sound. I must think again of the +written or printed name, not the sound only of the word.</p> +<p>Then I tried "Doctor Khay-me," but failed.</p> +<p>I knew that I had said "Ki-me," and had not thought +"Khay-me."</p> +<p>By an effort that made my head ache, I said "Doctor Ki-me," and +simultaneously reproduced "Doctor Khay-me" with letters before my +brain. It would not do.</p> +<p>Yet, though this double process had failed, I was not +discouraged. I thought of no other name. Everything else had been +definitely abandoned. Without reasoning upon it I knew that the +name was right, and I knew, as if by intuition, how to proceed to a +conclusion. I tried again, and knew beforehand that I should +succeed.</p> +<p>This last time--for, as I say, I knew it would be the last--I +did three things.</p> +<p>There was yet light. I was lying in my place in the line, on top +of the hill, a man five paces from me on either side. I wrote +"Doctor Khayme." I held the words before my eyes; I called the face +of my dream before me; I said to the face, "Doctor Ki-me."</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2>XXXVII</h2> +<h3>A DOUBLE</h3> +<center>"One of these men is genius to the other;<br> +And so of these: which is the natural man,<br> +And which the spirit? Who deciphers them?"<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>The Doctor was before me. I saw a woman by his side. She was his +daughter. I know her name--Lydia.</p> +<p>Where were they now? Where were they ever? Her face was full of +sweetness and dignity--yes, and care. It would have been the face +of my fancy, but for the look of care.</p> +<p>Unutterable yearning came upon me. I could not see the trees on +the bank of the river.</p> +<p>For an instant I had remained without motion, without breath. +Now I felt that I must move or die.</p> +<p>I rose and began to stamp my feet, which seemed asleep. Peculiar +physical sensations shot through my limbs. I felt drunk, and leaned +on my rifle. My hands were one upon the other upon the muzzle, my +chin resting on my hands, my eyes to the north star, seeing +nothing.</p> +<p>Nothing? Yes; beyond that nothing I saw a vision--a vision of +paradise.</p> +<p>The vision changed. I saw two men in gray running across a bare +hill; a shell burst over their heads; one threw up his hands +violently, and fell. The picture vanished.</p> +<p>Another picture was before me. The man--not the one who had +fallen--was making his painful way alone in the night; he went on +and on until he was swallowed by the darkness.</p> +<p>Again he appeared to me. He was sitting in a tent; an officer in +blue uniform was showing him a map. I could see the face of neither +officer nor man; both were in blue.</p> +<p>Farther back into the past, seemingly, this man was pushed. I +saw him standing on a shore, with Dr. Khayme and Lydia. I saw him +sick in a tent, and Dr. Khayme by him--yes, and Lydia.</p> +<p>Still further the scene shifts back. I see the man in blue +helping another man to walk. They go down into a wood and hide +themselves in a secret place. I can see the spot; I know it; it is +the place I saw at Manassas. The man helps his companion. The man +breaks his gun. The two go away.</p> +<p>So, after all, that gun at Manassas had never been mine; it had +belonged to this man.</p> +<p>Who was this man?</p> +<p>A soldier, evidently.</p> +<p>What was his name?</p> +<p>I did not know.</p> +<p>Why did he sometimes wear a blue uniform?</p> +<p>He must be a Confederate spy; of course he is a Confederate +spy.</p> +<p>My memory refused to abandon this man. I had known that I should +recover the Doctor, and I had supposed that the Doctor's name would +be the key to unlock all the past, so that my memory would be +suddenly complete and continuous, but now I found the Doctor +supplanted by a strange man whose name even I did not know, and who +acted mysteriously, sometimes seeming to be a Confederate and at +other times a Federal. I must exert my will and get rid of this +man: he disturbs me; he is not real, perhaps. I have eaten nothing; +I have fever; perhaps this man is a creation of my fever. I will +get rid of him.</p> +<p>I forced the Doctor to appear. This time he was sitting in an +ambulance, but not alone. The man was with him. I banished the +picture, and tried again.</p> +<p>Another scene. The Doctor, and the man, and Willis lying hidden +in a straw stack. Ah! Willis! That name has come back.</p> +<p>Who is Willis?</p> +<p>I do not know; only Willis.</p> +<p>It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the +Doctor without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's +face flits by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.</p> +<p>I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain +an instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man +persisted, and contrary to my will.</p> +<p>My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there +no Dr. Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face +was again before me. That look of care--or worse than care, +anxiety--could it be mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my +fancy, but the look was its own. I recognized the face, but the +expression was not due to my thought or to my error; it was +independent of me.</p> +<p>I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the +Man! Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who +sometimes wore blue and sometimes gray.</p> +<p>Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was +nothing in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of +the moon at Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of +my Captain, lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the +enemy. My brain was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I +doubted all reality. My fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves +were all unstrung. I felt upon the boundary edge of heaven and +hell. I knew enough to craze me should I learn no more. I watched +the moon; it took the form of Lydia's face; a tree became the +strange Man who would not forsake me.</p> +<p>Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was +mysterious. His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The +others are real. I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and +her name. I know Willis and his name. The Man's face and name are +unknown; yet does he come unbidden and uppermost and always.</p> +<p>I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I +retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling +Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into +Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to +Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's +Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a +new thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at +Gaines's Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.</p> +<p>But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second +Manassas.</p> +<p>But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first +Manassas.</p> +<p>Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped +Willis. Why should he help Willis?</p> +<p>Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee +soldier?</p> +<p>I know his face and I know his name.</p> +<p>I must hunt this thought down.</p> +<p>Is it that I have heard this story? Not in my present time of +experience. Is it that Willis was made prisoner that day--he and +his companion, there in the woods? It might have been so.</p> +<p>But did I not see the strange man break his gun and go away from +the spot? He was not captured.</p> +<p>Yet I may have been hidden in the woods near by, watching these +two men. I must try to remember whether I saw what became of +them.</p> +<p>Then I imagine myself hidden behind a log. I watch the strange +man; he binds up Willis's leg. I see him help the sergeant--there! +again a thought--Willis was a sergeant. Why could I not see that +before--with the stripes on his arm? Of course hidden near by I +could see that Willis was a sergeant; but how could I know that his +name was Willis? Possibly I heard the strange man call him +Jake--So! again it comes. I have the full name.</p> +<p>But I must follow them if I can. The strange man helps Willis to +rise, and puts his gun under the sergeant's shoulder for a crutch, +and helps him on the other side. They begin to move, but Willis +drops the gun, for it sinks into the soft ground, and is useless. +Then the strange man breaks his gun and the two go away. I see them +moving slowly through the woods--but strange! they are no farther +from me than before. I must have really followed them that day. +They go on and get into the creek, and climb with difficulty the +farther bank, and rest. Again they start--they reach a stubble +field; I see some straw stacks; the strange man kneels by one of +the stacks and works a hollow; he tells Willis to lie down; then he +speaks to Willis again, and I can hear every word he says: he tells +Willis to go to sleep; that he will try to get help; that if he +does not return by noon to-morrow, Willis must look out for +himself--maybe he'd better surrender. And Willis says, "God bless +you, Jones."</p> +<p>And now I have the man's name, Jones--a name common enough.</p> +<p>I must hunt this Jones down--where have I known a Jones? But I +must not now be diverted by him; I must stick to Willis.</p> +<p>Then I watch Willis, but only for an instant; I feel entrained +by Jones, and I go with Jones even though I want to see what +becomes of Willis.</p> +<p>It gets dark, yet I can see Jones. He goes rapidly, though I +feel that he is weary. He stands on a narrow road, and I hear +sounds of rattling harness, and he sees a wagon moving. He stops +and looks at the wagon; I see a man get out of the wagon--a very +small man; the man says, "Is that you, Jones?" Then I wonder who +this man is, and though I wonder I yet know that he is Dr. Khayme. +Jones sinks to the ground; the Doctor calls for brandy. Then the +Doctor and Jones and the wagon turn, round in my head and all +vanish, and I find myself a vedette on the North Fork of the +Rappahannock, and pull myself together with a jerk.</p> +<p>It had been vivid, intense, real. I did not understand it, but I +could not doubt it.</p> +<p>The relief came, and I went back to the picket-line and took my +place near the right of Company H.</p> +<p>What next? I had come to a stop. Jones had fallen to the ground, +and that was as far as I could get. What had happened to him after +that?</p> +<p>My interest in Jones had deepened. I had tried to get rid of him +and failed; now, when he disappeared of himself, I tried to see +him, and failed. I wish to say that my memory served me no longer +in regard to Jones. There was a blank--a blank in regard to Jones +and in regard to myself also. I had got to the end of that +experience, for I had no doubt that it was an experience of my own +in some incomprehensible connection with Jones.</p> +<p>Then I return to Willis again--and, wonder of wonders, I see +Jones and Dr. Khayme with Willis at the straw. There is another man +also. Who is he? I do not know. He and Jones lift Willis into an +ambulance, and all go away into darkness.</p> +<p>My mind was now in a tangle. Jones had abandoned Willis, yet had +not abandoned him. Which of the two incidents was true? Neither? +Both? If both, which followed the other? I did not know.</p> +<p>I try to follow Willis; I cannot. I try to follow Dr. Khayme; I +fail. I had tried to follow Jones, and had succeeded in a measure; +I try again, and fail.</p> +<p>Now I see this fact, which seems to me remarkable: I cannot +remember Willis or the Doctor alone--Jones is always present.</p> +<p>Jones--Jones--where have I known a man named Jones? Jones, the +corporal in Company H, was killed at Gettysburg; he is the only +Jones I can recall. Yet I must have had relations with a different +Jones; who was he? I must try to get him.</p> +<p>The Doctor's face again; Jones, too, is there. Jones is with the +Doctor in a tent at night, and they are getting ready--getting +ready for what? A package has been made. They are talking. The +lights are put out and I lose the Doctor, but I can yet see Jones. +In the dim light of the stars he comes out of the tent; a man on a +horse is near; he holds another horse, ready saddled. Jones mounts, +and the two ride away. And I hear Jones ask, "What is your name?" +and I hear the man reply, "Jones."</p> +<p>What folly!</p> +<p>But the other Jones asks also, "Don't you know me?" and then +another picture comes before me, but dimly, for it seems almost in +the night: Jones--this new Jones--is standing near a prostrate +horse as black as jet and is prisoner in the hands of Union men, +and the other Jones is there, too, and I see that he is joyful that +Jones is caught. What utter folly! Is everybody to be named Jones? +I have followed one Jones and have found two--possibly three. Who +is the true Jones? Is there any true Jones? Has my fevered brain +but conjured up a picture, or series of pictures, of events that +never had existence? Why should one Jones be glad that another +Jones was caught? I give up this new Jones.</p> +<p>Now I was thinking without method--in a daze. Every line had +resulted in an end beyond which was a blank, or else confusion. I +gave myself up to mere revery.</p> +<p>Somehow, I had trust; I felt that I was at a beginning which was +also an end. I had come far. I had recovered the name of Dr. +Khayme, and of Lydia, of Sergeant Jake Willis, of Jones, with +possibly another Jones; with these names I ought to work out the +whole enigma. I knew that Jones was the man who had broken his gun; +the man who had helped Willis; the man who had been under the +bursting shell on the hill. Yes, and another thought,--the man who +had been wounded there.</p> +<p>I knew that Lydia was the Doctor's daughter. A few more +relations found would untangle everything. But how to find more? I +must think. Yet thinking seemed weak. I believed that if I could +quit thinking, the thing would come of itself. Yet how to quit +thinking? I remembered that I had received lessons upon the power +of the will from Captain Haskell and ... from ... somebody ... +who?--Why, Doctor Khayme, of course.</p> +<p>And now another new thought, or fancy. What relation, if any, +could there be between the Captain and the Doctor? In a confused +way I groped in the tangle of this question until I became +completely lost again, having gained, however, the knowledge that +Dr. Khayme had taught me concerning the will.</p> +<p>I lay back and closed my eyes, to try to banish thought; the +effort was vain. I opened my eyes, and dreamed. I could recall the +Doctor's dark face, his large brow, his bright eyes, and a +pipe--yes, a pipe, with its carven bowl showing a strange head; and +I could recall more easily the Captain's long jaw, and triangle of +a face, and even the slight lisp with which he spoke. What +relationship had these two men? If Captain Haskell had ever known +Dr. Khayme, should I not have heard him speak of the Doctor? I had +known the Captain since I had known the Doctor; where had I known +the Doctor? Where had I known him first? He had been my teacher. +Where? I remembered--in Charleston! But why does the Doctor +associate with Willis, who is distinctly a Federal soldier, and +with Jones, who is sometimes a Federal? I can see the Doctor in an +ambulance--and in a tent; he must be a surgeon.</p> +<p>Ah! yes; Willis is a prisoner, after all, and in the Confederate +hospital.</p> +<p>The thought of a possible relationship between the Doctor and +the Captain continued to come. Why should I think of such a +possibility? My brain became clearer. My people must be in +Charleston. The Captain may have known the Doctor in Charleston. +They may have been friends. They talked of similar subjects--at +least, they had views which affected me similarly. Yet that might +mean nothing. I tried to give up the thought.</p> +<p>Again the Doctor's face, and the Captain. For one short instant +these two men seemed to me to be at once identical and +separate--even opposite. How preposterous! Yet at the same moment I +remembered that the Captain once had said he was not sure that +there was such a condition as absolute individuality. Preposterous +or not, the thought, gone at once, had brought another in its +train: I had never seen these two men together, and I had never +seen the Doctor without Jones. Wherever the Doctor was, there was +Jones also. Here came again the former glimmering notion of double +and even opposite identity. Was Jones two? He was seemingly a +Federal and a Confederate. I had supposed, weakly, that he was a +Confederate spy in a Federal uniform; but his conduct at Manassas +had not borne out the supposition. He had even broken his gun +rather than have it fall into the hands of Confederates, and had +helped a wounded Federal. Yet, again, that conduct might have been +part of a very deep plan. What plan? To deceive the enemy so fully +that he would be received everywhere as one of them? Yes; or rather +to act in entire conformity with his supposed character. He must +always act the complete Federal when with federals, so that no +suspicion should attach to him. No doubt he had remained in the +Federal camp until he had got the information needed, and had +returned to the Confederates before he had been wounded by the +shell.</p> +<p>So, all these fancies had resulted in worse than nothing; every +effort I had made, on these lines, had but entangled me more. That +Jones was a Confederate spy, was highly probable; this absurd +notion of a double had drawn me away from the right track; he was a +double, it is true, but only on the surface; he was a Confederate +acting the Federal.</p> +<p>Jones interests me intensely. There is something extraordinary +about him. No man that I ever saw or heard of seems to possess his +capacity to interest me. Yet his only peculiarity is that he +changes clothing. No, not his only one; he has another: he is +absolutely ubiquitous.</p> +<p>That he has some close relationship with me is clear. Why clear? +Just because I cannot get rid of him? Is that a reason? Nothing is +clear. My head is not clear. All this mysterious Jones matter may +be delusion. Dr. Khayme is fact, and Lydia is fact, and Willis; but +as to this Jones, or these Joneses, I doubt. Doubt is not relief. +Jones remains. Wherever I turn I find him. He will not down. If he +is a fact, he must be the most important person related to my life. +More so than Lydia?</p> +<p>What is Jones to me? My mind confesses defeat and struggles none +the less. Could he be a brother? Can it be possible, after all, +that my name is B. Jones? Anything seems possible. Yet a thought +shows me that this supposition is untenable. If I am Berwick Jones, +and the spy was my brother, I should have heard of him long +ago.</p> +<p>Why? why should I hear of him, when I could not hear of myself? +The Confederate army may have had a score of spies named Jones, and +I had never heard of one of them.</p> +<p>But if he had been my brother, <i>he</i> would have hunted +<i>me</i>, and would have found me! That was it.</p> +<p>This thought was more reasonable--but ... he might have been +killed!</p> +<p>He must have been killed by the shell on the hill ... yes ... +that is why I can trace him no farther. I have never seen him +since. Why had I at first assumed that he had been wounded only? I +see that I assumed too much--or too little. I had seen him under +the fire, and had seen him no more; that was all.</p> +<p>Yet I knew absolutely and strangely that Jones had not been +killed.</p> +<p>It is certain that the memory, in retracing a succession of +events, does not voluntarily take the back track; it goes over the +ground again, just as the events succeeded, from antecedent to +consequent, rather than backward. It is more difficult--leaving +memory aside--to take present conditions and discover the unknown +which evolved these conditions, than to take present conditions and +show what will be evolved from them. Of course, if we already know +what preceded these conditions, there is no discovery to be +claimed--and that is what I am saying: that with our knowledge of +the present, the future is not a discovery; it is a mere +development naturally augured from the present. An incapable +general means defeat, but defeat does not imply an incapable +general.</p> +<p>Now, I had been trying to begin with Jones on the bare hill +where I had seen him latest, and to go back, but my efforts had +only proved the truth of the foregoing. I had only jumped back a +considerable distance, and from the past had followed Jones forward +as well as my imperfect powers permitted; again I had jumped back +and had followed him until he met the Doctor in the night. The +episode of lifting Willis into the ambulance seemed a separate +event of very short duration. My mind had unconsciously appreciated +the difficulty of working backward, and had in reality endeavoured +to avoid that almost impossible process by dividing Jones into +several periods and following the events of each period in order of +time and succession. I now, without having willed to think it, +became conscious of this difficulty, and I yielded at once to +suggestion. I would begin anew, and would help the natural +process.</p> +<p>First I tried to sum up results. I found these: first, Jones, in +blue, helps another man in blue and I follow him until I lose him +when he reaches the Doctor. Second, Jones, in blue, and the Doctor +come to Willis again--and then I lose Jones and all of them. Third, +Jones--alone and in gray--is in the act of falling, with a shell +bursting over him, and I lose him.</p> +<p>I had no doubt of the order in which these events had occurred, +and none, whatever of the fact that all of Jones's life had been +lost to me, if not indeed to himself, when I saw him fall. Now I +wanted to find connecting events; I wanted to know how to join the +Jones at the secret place in the woods with the Jones that I had +seen fall, and I set my memory to work, but obtained nothing. The +scene on the hill seemed unrelated to that of Willis.</p> +<p>There was remembrance, it is true, of Jones walking through a +forest at night, but the scene was so indistinct that I could make +nothing out of it; I could not decide even whether it had occurred +before the time of Manassas. Then, too, there was recollection of +Jonas in a tent, and of an officer in blue showing him a map, and I +could also remember that I had seen or heard that Jones had been on +a shore with the Doctor and Lydia. These events had no connection. +Between Jones in blue and Jones in gray there were gaps which I +could not cross.</p> +<p>Yet I set myself diligently to the task of joining these events +with the more important ones; taxing my memory, diving into the +past, hunting for the slightest clews.</p> +<p>And there was another event, farther back seemingly in the dim +past, that I could faintly recall--Jones, sick in a tent with the +Doctor attending him ... yes, and some one else in the tent. I +strained my head to recall this scene more clearly. In this case +Jones had no uniform; neither did the others wear uniform. And now +a new doubt--why in a tent and without uniform?</p> +<p>For a moment I tried to settle this question by answering that +the Confederate troops had not been provided with uniforms at so +early a period; but the answer proved unsatisfactory. I knew or +felt that Doctor Khayme's relationship with me was so near that, +had he been a Confederate surgeon, he would have found me long +since.</p> +<p>Yet the Doctor might be dead, as well as Jones, was the thought +which followed.</p> +<p>But I knew again that Jones was still alive. How I knew it, I +could not have told, but I knew it.</p> +<p>Then, too, there was a strange feeling of something like +intuition in my knowing that Jones was sick--why should Jones not +be wounded rather than sick? How could I know that this scene in +the tent was not the sequence of the scene of the bursting shell? +But I say that I knew Jones was sick, and not wounded. How could I +know this?</p> +<p>And there was yet a third instance of unreasoning knowledge--I +knew that Jones was in gray in the night and in a dense forest.</p> +<p>I examined myself to see whether I believed in intuition, and I +reached the conclusion that only one of these events was an +instance of knowledge without a foundation in reason. I knew that +Jones was in gray in the dark night. Had I been told so? Had +<i>he</i> told me so? I knew that he had been sick. Had he told me +so? In any case, I knew these things and knew that my knowledge was +simple. But how could I know that Jones was now alive?</p> +<p>Why should Jones be alive? The only answer I could then make +was, that I felt sure of the fact. I had no reason to advance to +myself for this knowledge, or feeling. I felt that it was more than +intuition. I felt that it was experience, not the experience of +sight or hearing or any of the senses, but experience +nevertheless--subconscious, if you wish to call it so in these +days. Though the experience was inexplicable, it was none the less +valid. I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did not doubt. +There are many avenues to the soul. To know that a man is alive, +seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor +touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will +he have the life of expression and intelligence in his face. +Communication between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or +direction. But I saw no face. Intelligence resides not in feature; +the change of feature is but one of its myriad effects. The mind of +the world affects every individual mind ... where did I hear such +an idea advanced? From whom? Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.</p> +<p>I was sure of it. And then opened before me a page, and many +pages, of the past, in which I read the Doctor's philosophy.</p> +<p>I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ... +why, then, was he in the army?</p> +<p>Perhaps he was not in the army. Yet was he not doing service as +a surgeon? Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent? But the +tent itself did not prove the existence of an army. The Doctor wore +no uniform.</p> +<p>But a tent is strong presumption of an army. Was the Doctor a +surgeon? And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance +made the army almost certain. And Jones and Willis, both soldiers, +assisted by the Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon, +although he wears no uniform. Perhaps he wears uniform only on +occasions; when at work at his calling he puts it off.</p> +<p>I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything +anew--in a new light.</p> +<p>I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army. Why has he not +found me? Again comes that thought of double personality, and this +time it will not down so easily. I can remember the Doctor's +utterances upon the universal mind, and upon the power of the will. +I can remember that I had almost feared him ... and suddenly I +remember that Willis had said that the Doctor could read the mind +... WHAT! WHO? I? JONES?</p> +<p>My brain reeled. I was faint and dizzy. If the order to march +had come, I could not have moved.</p> +<p>What was this new and strange knowledge? How had it come? I had +simply remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could +tell what another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had +spoken the words to ME!</p> +<p>Then I was Jones. No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he +had my mind in his body. One mind in two bodies? How could that be? +But I remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to +mind extension or divisibility or any property of matter. I am a +double--perhaps more. Who knows but that the relation of mind with +mind is the relation of unity? It must be so. I can see that I am +Jones. No wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder +that I knew he wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was +not dead.</p> +<p>Yes, the broken gun was mine; I have been a Confederate spy. I +am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXVIII"></a>XXXVIII</h2> +<h3>IDENTITY</h3> +<center>"Which, is the side that I must go withal?<br> +I am with both: each army hath a hand;<br> +And, in their rage, I having hold of both,<br> +They whirl asunder, and dismember me."<br> +<br> +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>I had been in the battle of Manassas, fighting in the ranks of +blue soldiers--yes, I remember the charge and the defeat and the +rout. How vividly I now remember the words--strange I thought them +then--of Dr. Khayme. He had said that it might be a spy's duty to +desert even, in order to accomplish his designs.</p> +<p>Had this suggestion been made before the fact? I am again in a +mist. But what matter? I had not deserted in reality; I had only +pretended to desert. Yet I think it strange that I cannot remember +what Jones Berwick felt when deciding to act the deserter. Had he +found pretended desertion necessary?</p> +<p>Yes, undoubtedly; unless he had passed himself off as a deserter +he could not have been received into the Yankee army, and I now +knew that I was once in that army.</p> +<p>But why could I not have joined it as a recruit?</p> +<p>Simply because Jones Berwick was in the Confederate army; I +could not have easily gone North to enlist.</p> +<p>But could I not have clothed myself at once as a Union soldier, +so that there would have been no need of desertion?</p> +<p>No; I could not have answered questions; I should have been +asked my regiment; I should have been ordered back to my regiment. +I remember the difficulty I had met with when I joined, or when +Berwick Jones joined, Company H. I had been compelled to lay aside +the Confederate uniform, and join as a recruit dressed in +civilian's clothing, merely because I could not bear to have +questions asked. So, when I had played the Federal, if I had +presented myself in a blue uniform, I could not have answered +questions, and the requirement to report to my company would have +destroyed my whole plan.</p> +<p>Yet it was just possible that I had succeeded in obtaining +civilian's clothing, and had joined the Federals as a pretended +recruit, just as I had joined Company H later. This was less +unlikely when coupled with the thought that possibly my first +experience in this course had had some hidden influence on my +second.</p> +<p>But why is it that I cannot recall my first service as a +Confederate? The question disturbs me. My peculiar way of +forgetting must be the reason. When, as Jones Berwick the +Confederate, I became Berwick Jones the Federal, there must have +come upon my mind a phase of oblivion similar to that which clouded +it when I became a Confederate again.</p> +<p>Yet this explanation is weak. No such thing could occur twice +just at the critical time ... unless ... some power, mysterious and +profound.... What was Dr. Khayme in all this?</p> +<p>And another thought, winch bewilders me no less. On my musket I +had carved J.B. I was Jones Berwick as a Federal. Then I must +always have been Berwick Jones when a Confederate. How did I ever +get to be Berwick Jones? How did I ever become Jones Berwick? Which +was I at first? Had I ever deserted? Had I ever been a spy? I doubt +everything.</p> +<p>My mind became clearer. I could connect events: the first +Manassas, or Bull Bun; the helping of Willis; the meeting with the +Doctor; the return to Willis; the shore and the battle of the +ships; the <i>Merrimac</i>; the line of the Warwick; the lines at +Hanover; the night tramp in the swamp; crossing the hill; a blank, +which my double memory knew how to fill, and the subsequent events +of my second service in our army. Nothing important seemed lacking +since the battle of Bull Run. Before that battle everything was +confusion. My home was still unknown. The friends of my former +life, so far as I could remember, had been Federals, if Dr. Khayme +and Lydia could be called Federals.</p> +<p>Yet I supposed my home was Charleston. My memory now began with +that city. There were but two great gaps remaining to be filled: +first, my life before I was at school under the Doctor; second, my +life at home and in the Confederate army before I pretended to +desert to the Federals.</p> +<p>I am Jones Berwick and I am Berwick Jones? What an absurdity! +Let reason work; the idea is preposterous! What does it mean? Can +it mean any more than that you were known at one time as Jones +Berwick and at another time as Berwick Jones? It is insanity to +think that you are two persons at once. Have you imagined that now, +while you are a Confederate again, there is also a you in the +Yankee army? When your connection with the Confederates was +interrupted you were received by the Federals as Jones Berwick; the +J.B. on the gunstock shows that well enough; but when you became a +Confederate again, your name was reversed because of that +diary!</p> +<p>I took out the diary. It was too dark to read, but I knew every +word of the few lines in it,--B. Jones, on the fly-leaf.</p> +<p>And now I recall that the Doctor had told me to write in the +little book.... What was his purpose? To deceive the enemy in case +I should be taken? Yes.</p> +<p>But--I was going to become a Confederate again!</p> +<p>Did the Doctor know that?</p> +<p>Yes; he knew it. At least he provided for such a change; the +words he dictated were for a Confederate's diary. He knew it? Yes; +he helped me on with the Confederate uniform!</p> +<p>Then why should he think that additional effort--the diary--was +required to make Confederates believe a Confederate a +Confederate?</p> +<p>Could I not at once have named my original company and its +officers? Why this child's play of the diary?</p> +<p>I studied hard this phase of the tangle.</p> +<p>Perhaps the Doctor wanted me to be able to prove myself to the +first party of Confederates I should meet. Yes; that is reasonable. +I might have been subjected to much embarrassing questioning--and +to detention--but for something on my person to give substance to +my statement. The Doctor was far-sighted. He had protected me.</p> +<p>But how could I make a statement? How could I know what to say +to a party of Confederates? I laughed at the question, and +especially at the thought which had caused it. I had actually +forgotten, for the moment, that I was a real Confederate, and had +begun to imagine that I had been a Federal trying to get into the +Confederate lines, and whom the Doctor was helping to do so.</p> +<p>But, was the Doctor a Confederate? He must have been a +Confederate. If so, what was he, too, doing in the Federal camp? +He, too, a spy? He and I were allies? Possibly.</p> +<p>But is it not more likely that he was deceived in me? Did he not +think me a Union soldier? If so, he thought that he was helping me +to play the spy in the interest of the Federals.</p> +<p>What, then? Why, then the Doctor was, after all, a surgeon in +the Union army.</p> +<p>But I knew that the Doctor was thoroughly opposed to war; he +would not fight; he took no side; he even argued with me ... God! +what was it that he argued? And what in me was he arguing against? +He had contended--I remember it--that the war would destroy +slavery, and that was what he wanted to be done; and I had +contended that the Union was pledged by the Constitution to protect +slavery, and all I wanted was the preservation of the Union.</p> +<p>A cold shudder came through me.</p> +<p>In an instant I could see better. Such talk had been part of my +plan. I had even succeeded in blinding the Doctor. Yet this thought +gave little pleasure. To have deceived the Doctor! I had thought +him too wise to allow himself to be deceived.</p> +<p>Yet any man may be cheated at times. But, had I lent myself to a +course which had cheated Dr. Khayme? This was hard to believe. I +became bewildered again. No matter which way I looked, there was a +tangle. I have not got to the bottom of this thing.</p> +<p>Of two things one must be true: first, Dr. Khayme is a +Confederate and my ally; second, I have been such a skilful spy +that I have deceived him with all his wisdom and all my reluctance +to deceive him. Which of these two things is true?</p> +<p>Let me look again at the first. I am sure that the Doctor was in +some way attached to the army. What army? I know. I know not only +that it was the Union army, but I know even that it was McClellan's +army. I remember now the Doctor's telling me about movements that +McClellan would make. These things happened in McClellan's army +while I was a spy. To suppose that the Doctor was my ally comports +with his giving me information of McClellan's movements. He was a +surgeon, and, of course, a Confederate; he certainly was from +Charleston, and must have been a Confederate. But, on the other +hand, I remember clearly his great hostility to slavery, and his +hostility, no less great, to war. From this it seems that he could +not have been a Confederate.</p> +<p>Let me look at the second. I am sure that I was a spy and that I +was in McClellan's army. I am equally sure that the Doctor knew +that I was a spy. He had even argued in favour of my work as a spy. +How, then, could I deceive him? There is but one answer: he thought +me a Union spy, and that I was to go into the Confederate lines to +get information, when the opposite was true.</p> +<p>Now the first proposition seems clearly contradictory. The +Doctor was not a Confederate, and I feel sure that he did not know +that I was a Confederate spy. I give up the first proposition.</p> +<p>Since one of the two is true, and the first is not, then the +second must be the truth. I must have played the spy so well that +even Dr. Khayme had been deceived.</p> +<p>Yet I can remember no deceit in my mind. I was a spy, and my +business was deceit; yet in regard to the Doctor I feel sure that I +was open and frank. The second proposition, while possible, I +reject, at least for a time.</p> +<p>Can I decide that neither of two opposite things can be true? +How absurd! Yet I recall an utterance of the Doctor, "There is +nothing false absolutely;" and I recall another, "To examine a +question thoroughly, be not content with looking at two sides of +it; look at three."</p> +<p>Let me try again, then, and see if by any possibility there be a +third alternative. The first, namely, that the Doctor is a +Confederate, is untrue; the second, namely, that I deceived him, is +untrue: what is a possible third?</p> +<p>I fail to see what else is possible ... wait ... let me put +myself in the Doctor's place. Let me consider his antislavery +notions and his invulnerability to deceit. He sends me, as he +thinks, into the Confederate lines as a Union spy. Why?</p> +<p>Because he believes I am a Union spy. Well, what does that show +but that he is deceived? The reasoning turns on itself. It will not +do. Where is the trouble? There is a way out, if I could but find +it.</p> +<p>What is that third alternative? Can it be that the Doctor knew I +was a Confederate and wished to help me return to my people? He was +opposed to war, and would take no part in it; was he indifferent in +regard to the success of the Federals? No; he wished for the +extinction of slavery. Yet Captain Haskell was a Confederate, but +he argued for a modification of slavery, and for gradual +emancipation.</p> +<p>Could Dr. Khayme have had such, affection for me that he would +do violence to his own sentiments for my sake? Was he willing for +me to go back to the Confederate army? Perhaps one man more or +fewer does not count. Possibly he helped me for the purpose of +doing me good, knowing that he was doing the Union cause no +harm.</p> +<p>But would he not know that the information I should take to the +Confederates would be worth many men? He would be seriously +injuring his cause.</p> +<p>Perhaps he made me promise not to use my information. No; that +could not be true. He was above such conduct, and his affection for +me was too sincere to admit the purpose of degrading me; neither +would I have yielded.</p> +<p>And now I see other inconsistencies in all of these +suppositions. For the Doctor to know that I was a Confederate, and +at the same time help me to act the Union spy, would be deceit on +his part. I am forced to admit that he knew my true character and +that I knew he knew me.</p> +<p>But, MY GOD! Willis did not know me!</p> +<p>An instant has shown me Willis's face, his form, his red hair, +as he attacked me at the close of the day at second Manassas! That +look of relenting, when his powerful arm refused to strike me; that +look of astonishment,--all now show that, in the supreme moment +preceding death, he knew my face and was thunderstruck to find me a +Confederate!</p> +<p>Willis had never known me as a Confederate; then why should the +Doctor have known me as such?</p> +<p>Yet I am sure that Dr. Khayme has been to me much nearer than +Willis ever was, and much more important to my life. And, besides, +I feel that Willis could have been more easily deceived. I know +that Willis did not know me, but the Doctor knew me, for he helped +me return to the Confederates.</p> +<p>... Poor Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p> +<p>But why did Willis relent? Even after he knew that I was a +rebel, he had refused to strike! Refused to strike a traitor? Why? +Why?</p> +<p>I fear for my reason....</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I must cease to follow these horrible thoughts. I must try +another line. So far as I know, I have never given the Confederates +the information gained from the Yankees: why? Because I could not. +My wound had caused me to forget. Now, had the Doctor been able to +read the future? If he had such power, his course in regard to me +could be understood. He knew that I should become unable to reveal +anything to injure his cause, therefore he was willing to help me +return to the Confederate army. There, at last, was a third +alternative, but a bare possibility only. Was it even that?</p> +<p>To assume that the Doctor, even with all his wonderful insight, +knew what would become of me, was nonsense. To suppose he could +read the future was hardly less violent than to suppose he could +control the future. Mind is powerful, but there are limits. What +are the limits? Had not the Doctor spoken to me of this very +subject? He had reasoned against there being limits to the power of +the mind ... notwithstanding my resistance to the thought I still +think it; I am still thinking of the possibility that the Doctor +controlled me, and caused me to lose the past in order that thus he +might not be accessory to a betrayal of his own cause.</p> +<p>This view explains--but how can I grant the impossible? Yet how +can I place a limit to the power of mind? God is mind ... and if +there is a man on earth who can do such miracles, that man is Dr. +Khayme.</p> +<p>But, another thought--why should the Doctor have been willing +for me to suffer so? If he knew that I should be hurt--and that I +should endure mortification--and be without friends--and long +hopeless of all good--why should he do me such injury? Would it not +have been better for me to remain in the Union army? I could not +see any reason for his subjecting me to so bitter an +experience--but wait--did he not contend that every human being +must go through an infinity of experience? That being true--or true +to his thought--he might be just in causing me to endure what I +have endured.</p> +<p>Now the whole course of events, at least all since Bull Run, +seems clear if I can but know--or even believe--that any man has +such superhuman power. Can I believe it?</p> +<p>Again it is my time for vedette duty. I relieve Butler. Not long +till dawn, I think. Far to my left I hear sounds, as if an army is +stirring. My time will be short on post. Where was I? Yes; the +supernatural power of the Doctor.</p> +<p>What would the possession of such power imply? To see future +events and control them! Divine power? Yes, in degree, at least. +But the mind, is it not divine? I have seen the Doctor do +marvellous things. That letter of my father's was a mystery.... +What! My father!</p> +<p>The sounds increase; the army is moving; the day is near.</p> +<p>I have a father? Who is my father?</p> +<p>The thought brings me to my feet.</p> +<p>I had been sitting on the trunk of a fallen tree. Far in front +stretches the dark valley of the Hedgeman River. Confused noises +come from rear and left. The vedettes will be withdrawn at once, no +doubt, for the march begins. Where is my father? Where he is there +should I be also. Suddenly light comes; I know that the letter was +signed Jones Berwick, Sr. From what place was it written? I do not +know. But I know that my father is the man in the tent where the +Doctor attends me sick.</p> +<p>I make a step forward.</p> +<p>Owens, on my left a hundred yards, shouts, "Jones, come on; the +line is moving back; we are ordered back!"</p> +<p>I open my mouth to reply to him, but think better of it.</p> +<p>I understand.</p> +<p>I am going to my father.</p> +<p>A flood of recollection has poured upon me.</p> +<p>I am the happiest--no, the most wretched--man on earth.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XXXIX"></a>XXXIX</h2> +<h3>REPARATION</h3> +<center>"Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,<br> +And welcome home again discarded faith."<br> + +--SHAKESPEARE.</center> +<br> +<p>My past life had rushed tumultuously upon me. Oh! the misery of +it would have slain me there, a rebel picket, but that balance was +made by its all coming.</p> +<p>I must turn my back upon my comrades, but I should go to my +father. The Southern cause must be forsaken, but I should recover +my country.</p> +<p>At roll-call in Company H, no voice would henceforth respond to +my name distorted. My comrades would curse my memory. It must be my +duty to battle against friends by whose sides I had faced danger +and death. The glory of the Confederate victories would now bring +me pain and not joy. Oh! the deepness of the woe!</p> +<p>But, on the other hand, I should recover my life and make it +complete. I must atone for the unconscious guilt of a past gorgeous +yet criminal--a past which I had striven to sow with the seeds of a +barbarous future. I should be with the Doctor; I should be myself, +and always myself, for I knew that my mind should nevermore suffer +a repetition of the mysterious affliction which had changed me. My +malady had departed forever; and with this knowledge there had come +upon the glimmering emotions of repressed passion the almost +overpowering consciousness that there was a woman in the world.</p> +<p>I sought the low ground bordering the river. My companions had +gone; I would go. There was none to stop me; none to know my going. +I wept and laughed. I had no fear. Nothing was present--all was +past and future. I was strong and well. With my healing had come a +revolution of another kind--a physical change which I felt would +make of me a different creature from the poor moody rebel in rags, +or even the groping Yankee spy of the day and of the year +before.</p> +<p>How I loved and pitied the men of Company H! They were devoted +and true. No matter what should befall them, they would continue to +be true and loyal to their instincts of duty. Misfortune, even the +blackest disaster, seems before them; but I know them for courage +and for fortitude to be the equals, at least, of any who may +conquer them. Their soldierly honour will be maintained even when +they go down in defeat, as they must; never will shame lay its +touch upon their ways, no matter what their destiny. I honour them, +more now since I know the might of their enemies; I love them; I am +proud of their high deeds, but I am done with them. In my heart +alone can I do them reverence. My hand must be against them, as it +has been for them.</p> +<p>Rätions? Rãtions! The Federals say +<i>rãtions</i>! Why did I not follow that clew?</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Poor old Willis! ... he refused to strike! ...</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>I went up the sloping edge of the river's brink, seeking a place +to cross. My mind was wondrously alert. At my right the dawn was +lighting the sky. Behind me and at my left, I could hear the +well-known sounds of a moving army--an army which had been my pride +and now must be my enemy. How often had I followed the red flag! +How I had raised my voice in the tumult of the charge--mingling no +dissentient note in the mighty concert of the fierce old rebel +yell!</p> +<p>What will they think of me? I know full well what they will +think, and the knowledge makes my heart ache and almost cease to +beat. They will say--some of them--that Jones has gone to the +Yankees; not at once will they say that, but in a week or two when +hope of my return has been abandoned--and a few will say that Jones +has lost his mind and has wandered off. The first--the unkind--will +be right, and they will be wrong. The others--the generous--will be +utterly wrong. I have not lost my mind; I have found it, and found +it "for good." The report of my desertion will come to Adjutant +Haskell and to Dr. Frost, perhaps. Will they tell? I hope not. Will +they suspect the truth? I wish it, but I cannot hope it.</p> +<p>Let Berwick Jones be dead and buried and forgotten; let Jones +Berwick live from this night as he never lived. The Doctor says men +live forever. I believe it. If man can live through the worse than +death which I have passed through alive, he is eternal. I shall +never die. On through the ages! That bright star--almost the only +one left in the graying sky--has but the age of an infant. I saw it +born!</p> +<p>I found a shallow place in the river and crossed. The sun was +up; I kept it on my right. What should I do and say when I should +reach our men? Our men! how odd the thought sounded! I must get to +them quickly. The rebels were moving. The whole of two corps of +infantry were seeking to fall upon our rear. I must hasten, or +there would be a third Bull Run.</p> +<p>But what can I say? How can I make them believe? How can I avoid +being captured, and brought before the officers as a rebel? I will +call for Dr. Khayme to bear out my words. I will appeal to General +Morell and to General Grover. But all this will take time. The loss +of a day, half a day, an hour, means defeat. Meade's army ought to +be falling back now. To retreat at once may save it--to delay means +terrible disaster.</p> +<p>I hasten on, thinking always what I shall say, what I shall do, +to make the generals believe. Oh! if I can but cause a speedy +retreat of the army, a safe retreat from the toils laid for its +destruction, I shall be happy. I will even say that my service as a +Confederate was a small price to pay ... what had the Doctor said? +He had said that my infirmity was a power! He had said that he +could imagine cases in which my peculiar affliction would give +great opportunity for serving the country. What a mind that man +has! He is to be feared. I wonder if he has had active part in what +has befallen me.</p> +<p>I keep a straight north course over hill and hollow, through +wood and field, crossing narrow roads that lead nowhere. Farmhouses +and fields and groves and streams and roads I pass in haste, +knowing or feeling that I shall find no help here. Here I shun +nothing; here I seek nothing--beyond this region are the people I +want. What can I say? what can I prove? This is the question that +troubles me. If I say that I am a Union soldier, I must tell the +whole truth, and that I cannot do; besides, it would not be +believed. If I say I am a deserter, my declarations as to Lee's +movement will not be taken without suspicion. What shall I do? If I +could but get a horse; if I could but get Federal clothing; I might +hope to find a horse, but to get a blue uniform seems impossible. I +must go as I am, and as I can. If I could but find Dr. Khayme! But +I know not how to find him. If he is yet with the army, he is +somewhere in its rear. Is he yet with the army? Is he yet alive? +And Lydia? My God, what might have happened to her in so many long +months! Yet, I have trust. I shall find the Doctor, and I shall +find Lydia, but I cannot go at once to them; I must lose no time; +to seek the Doctor might be ruin. I must go as fast as possible to +the general headquarters.</p> +<p>To the southeast I hear the boom of a distant gun--and another. +I hurry on. What do they mean by fighting down there?</p> +<p>I keep looking out for a horse, but I see none--none in the +fields or roads or pastures or lots. This war-stricken land is +bare. No smoke rises from the farmhouses. The fields are untilled; +the roads are untravelled. There are no horses in such a land.</p> +<p>I reach a wide public road running east and west, Hoof-prints +cover the road--hoof-prints going west; our cavalry; I almost shout +and weep for joy. The cavalry will certainly detect Lee's movement. +That is, if they go far enough west.</p> +<p>Again the dull booming of cannon in the far southeast. What does +it mean? It means, I know it, I feel certain of it, it means that +Lee is preventing Meade's retreat by deceiving him. Those guns are +only to deceive.</p> +<p>On the wide public road I turn eastward--straight down the road. +Other cavalry may be coming or going.</p> +<p>The road turns sharply toward the northeast. I cease to follow +it. I go straight eastward, hoping to shorten the way and find the +road beyond the hill. What is that I see through the trees? It +looks like a man. It is a man, and in blue uniform. From mere habit +I cock my rifle and hold it at the ready. I cannot see that he is +armed. I go straight to him. He is lying on the ground, with his +back toward me. He hears me. He rises to his feet. He is unarmed. +He is greatly astonished, but is silent.</p> +<p>"What are you doing here?"</p> +<p>"I surrender," he says.</p> +<p>"Very well, then," I say; "guide me at once to the nearest body +of your men."</p> +<p>He opens wide eyes. He says, "All right, if that's your +game."</p> +<p>He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the +west, and goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to +us?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Then let me have the gun," he says.</p> +<p>I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order +to claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be +believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is +not impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he +wants to march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him +back to the Union army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not +give him the gun. But I will make him talk.</p> +<p>"What do you want with the gun?"</p> +<p>"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference," +he says.</p> +<p>He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and +down hill, hardly changing direction.</p> +<p>Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what +made you quit?"</p> +<p>"My mind changed," I say.</p> +<p>He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I +wouldn't say that, if I was you."</p> +<p>"Why not, since it is true?"</p> +<p>"It will do you no good."</p> +<p>"But why?"</p> +<p>"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do +as you please."</p> +<p>He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the +whole truth.</p> +<p>I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them. +Their leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done +a good job. How did you happen to get him?"</p> +<p>"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."</p> +<p>"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have +information of extreme importance to give him."</p> +<p>"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if +you please."</p> +<p>"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must +make a condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning +slightly.</p> +<p>"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send +me to General Meade at once."</p> +<p>"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."</p> +<p>"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to +count. If you object to it, however, I withdraw it."</p> +<p>"Then, who are you?"</p> +<p>"I decline to say."</p> +<p>"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should +like to know how I am to rely on what you tell."</p> +<p>"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a +horse, and send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me +until I tell what I have to tell."</p> +<p>"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and +another for this man."</p> +<p>Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You +see, I am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served +Thomas; now let him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"</p> +<p>"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean +your flank."</p> +<p>"The devil you say! Infantry?"</p> +<p>"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six +divisions."</p> +<p>"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me +the truth?"</p> +<p>"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or +countenance."</p> +<p>"When did Ewell begin his march?"</p> +<p>"I do not know."</p> +<p>"When did Hill march?"</p> +<p>"He began to move on the 8th."</p> +<p>"Where was he before that date?"</p> +<p>"In camp near Orange Court-House."</p> +<p>"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"</p> +<p>"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."</p> +<p>"Which division is yours?"</p> +<p>"Please withdraw that question."</p> +<p>"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night +of the 8th?"</p> +<p>"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."</p> +<p>"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"</p> +<p>"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."</p> +<p>"Where on the 10th?"</p> +<p>"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."</p> +<p>"And where on the 11th?"</p> +<p>"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a +few miles from Jeffersonton."</p> +<p>"And where was Ewell's corps?"</p> +<p>"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed +Hill's yesterday afternoon."</p> +<p>"Going up?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; it went toward our right."</p> +<p>"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"</p> +<p>"Three."</p> +<p>"Who commands them?"</p> +<p>"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."</p> +<p>"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"</p> +<p>"It began to move up the river at daybreak."</p> +<p>"Is that all you have of importance?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger. +General Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with +Jackson's march last year around General Pope." I say this very +earnestly, and continue: "You ought to know that I am telling you +the truth. A man coming into your lines and ordering an unarmed man +to take him to you, ought to be believed."</p> +<p>"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an +impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of +life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say +nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of +prepossessing. The homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than +I am. The strain to which I have been subjected for days and weeks, +and especially for the last forty-eight hours, must be telling +fearfully upon me. Uncouth, dirty, ragged, starved, weak through +fever and strong through unnatural excitement, there can be no +wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He may suspect that such a +creature is seeking the presence of General Meade in order to +assassinate him.</p> +<p>"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other +weapons. Bind my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this +horse's belly. All I ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I +am not wretchedly mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch +for me."</p> +<p>"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this +gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for +your life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."</p> +<p>He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.</p> +<p>"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling +the truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived +in some way. Good luck to you."</p> +<p>He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.</p> +<p>I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine, +and his holsters were not empty.</p> +<p>"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.</p> +<p>We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are +nearing the river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad +trains, directly in front but far away.</p> +<p>The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my +horse's sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do +not stop. I say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and +storms, but keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound +to my side, and I feel his hand on my collar.</p> +<p>"Are you crazy?" he shouts.</p> +<p>I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a +suspicion may ruin my plan.</p> +<p>After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the +camps. We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.</p> +<p>At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide, +giving him the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard, +before the general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers +and orderlies. The aide approached the general, who turned and +looked at me. The general held the note in his hand.</p> +<p>"What is your name?" he asked."</p> +<p>"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.</p> +<p>"What brigade?"</p> +<p>"McGowan's."</p> +<p>"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"</p> +<p>"South Carolina."</p> +<p>"What division?"</p> +<p>"Wilcox's."</p> +<p>"How many brigades are in that division?"</p> +<p>"Four, General."</p> +<p>"Name them."</p> +<p>"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."</p> +<p>"From what states?"</p> +<p>"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade +is from Georgia."</p> +<p>"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"</p> +<p>"This morning, sir, before daylight"</p> +<p>"You say that a movement was in progress?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."</p> +<p>"Up what river?"</p> +<p>"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."</p> +<p>"You say the army? General Lee's army?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to +Georgia."</p> +<p>"Did you see the other troops?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."</p> +<p>"Did you see both corps?"</p> +<p>"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in +the afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours +passing."</p> +<p>The officers standing about were attentive, even serious. +General Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.</p> +<p>"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"</p> +<p>"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there +are some officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if +they were here."</p> +<p>"Who are they?"</p> +<p>"General Morell is one, sir."</p> +<p>All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I +saw one of them tap his forehead.</p> +<p>"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.</p> +<p>"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."</p> +<p>"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without +evasion. What are you to General Morell?"</p> +<p>"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that +he would know me and believe me."</p> +<p>"What are you to General Grover?"</p> +<p>"He knew me, General"</p> +<p>"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now +with this army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent +witnesses."</p> +<p>"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me +out."</p> +<p>"General Porter is no longer in this army."</p> +<p>"Then General Butterfield."</p> +<p>"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."</p> +<p>I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling +for Dr. Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise. +What had become of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who +by bare possibility might have heard of me through General Morell, +was, as I knew very well, far from this army. Certainly the war had +been hard on the general officers of this Army of the Potomac. I +would risk one more name.</p> +<p>"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."</p> +<p>"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"</p> +<p>"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."</p> +<p>General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head +slightly.</p> +<p>"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going +to ask you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to +answer quickly and without many words. How do you happen to know +that the colonel of the Eleventh Massachusetts is named +Blaisdell?"</p> +<p>I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade +alone, I should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea +again came that he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to +answer quickly, so I said, "I had friends in that regiment, +General."</p> +<p>The officers had gathered around their commander as close as +etiquette allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of +them very serious--others with sneers."</p> +<p>"Name one of your friends."</p> +<p>"John Lawler, sir."</p> +<p>"What company?"</p> +<p>"Company D."</p> +<p>An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.</p> +<p>"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know +General Grover and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did +General Grover command? Where was it that you knew him?"</p> +<p>"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The +information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover +would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the +Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"</p> +<p>"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a +look.</p> +<p>"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.</p> +<p>A second orderly was sent off.</p> +<p>All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to +question me. I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the +general, and a plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor +appeared.</p> +<p>"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"</p> +<p>"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the +Doctor quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful +self-control would not even now desert him.</p> +<p>"How do you know they were still moving?"</p> +<p>"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the +movement, sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on +his conduct depended my peace for the future. If he should betray +me, I should henceforth be a living curiosity.</p> +<p>"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.</p> +<p>The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how +to answer. I was silent.</p> +<p>"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"</p> +<p>"Start where, General?"</p> +<p>"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was +moving? If you intended to be of service to us, why did you +delay?"</p> +<p>Here was an opening.</p> +<p>"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday, +General; besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of +the nature of General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could +give the Doctor some signal before he should speak--before he +should recognize me. I was determined to prevent his exposing me, +no matter at what personal risk.</p> +<p>"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.</p> +<p>"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me, +General. But that was only additional to the circumstances of +position and direction of march."</p> +<p>"The men? What do the men know of such things?"</p> +<p>"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the +country, from having marched over it many times. They were in the +August campaign of last year; they said that the present movement +could mean nothing except a repetition of General Jackson's flank +march of last year."</p> +<p>The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon +me. The officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances +one at another.</p> +<p>"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"</p> +<p>"I was in Jackson's corps, General."</p> +<p>"Did you make the march under him?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of +last year?"</p> +<p>"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General +Jackson's corps at the very place where I left Hill's corps this +morning. On August 25th last year General Jackson crossed the +Hedgeman River on his flank march. Hill's corps this morning began +to move toward the crossing of the river."</p> +<p>"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"</p> +<p>"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."</p> +<p>"Do you know him when you see him?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir--many times."</p> +<p>"Have you seen General Ewell?"</p> +<p>"I would not know General Ewell, sir."</p> +<p>"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"</p> +<p>"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."</p> +<p>"When?"</p> +<p>"Yesterday, General."</p> +<p>"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"</p> +<p>"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it +took many hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different +brigades told us they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it, +General."</p> +<p>The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were +for the purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without +change of substance.</p> +<p>The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They +reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General +Meade. Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.</p> +<p>The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade, +"General, I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to +meet him, if but a few yards."</p> +<p>The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.</p> +<p>I cried out: "Doctor, hold your peace! Say nothing but yes or +no!"</p> +<p>General Meade and all his staff looked at me with anger.</p> +<p>The Doctor had come up. He said not a word.</p> +<p>Intense gravity was all over him.</p> +<p>General Meade said, "Doctor, do you know this man?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> +<p>"Who is he?"</p> +<p>The Doctor smiled very faintly, then became serious again, and +shook his head; "I obey orders, General," he said.</p> +<p>"Then reply," said the general.</p> +<p>"I am commanded to say yes or no," said the Doctor. "I suppose, +however, there is no objection?" looking at me. I inclined my head. +Etiquette could no longer restrain the staff. We were all in a +huddle.</p> +<p>"He is Jones Berwick," said Dr. Khayme.</p> +<p>"Do you vouch for him?"</p> +<p>"Yes, General."</p> +<p>"He brings information of great import, if true; there is +immense danger in accepting it, if false."</p> +<p>"I will answer for him with my life, General."</p> +<p>"But may he not be deceived? May you not be deceived in him? And +he will tell nothing except what he wishes to tell!"</p> +<p>"General, let me say a few words to him and to you."</p> +<p>"All right." He made a movement, and his staff dispersed--very +reluctantly, no doubt, but quickly enough.</p> +<p>"Now, Jones, my dear boy," said the Doctor, "I think you may +confide in the general. You see, General, there is a private matter +in which my friend here is greatly interested, and which he does +not want everybody to hear."</p> +<p>"He may rely on my confidence in matters personal--and if he is +bringing me the truth, he may rely on my protection," said the +general; "now speak up and convince me, and be quick."</p> +<p>"General," I said, "I went into the rebel army as a Union spy. I +am a regularly enlisted man in the Eleventh Massachusetts."</p> +<p>Dr. Khayme said, "That is true, General."</p> +<p>"Then," roared the general, "then why the hell did you take so +long to tell it?"</p> +<p>He dashed off from us. He called his aides. He began sending +despatches like the woods afire.</p> +<br> +<br> +<hr style="width: 35%;"> +<br> +<br> +<h2><a name="XL"></a>XL</h2> +<h3>CONCLUSION</h3> +<center>"And all that was death<br> +Grows life, grows love,<br> +Grows love."--BROWNING.</center> +<br> +<p>The Doctor held my hand.</p> +<p>Couriers and aides had gone flying in every direction. A hubbub +rose; clouds of dust were in the west and north and east and +south--everywhere. The Army of the Potomac was retreating.</p> +<p>But not the whole army as yet. Beyond the Rappahannock were +three corps,--the Sixth, the Fifth, and the Second, under Sedgwick, +Sykes, and Warren,--which General Meade had thrown forward on the +morning of this day, in the belief that Lee was retiring. Until +these troops should succeed in recrossing to the north side of the +river, a strong force must hold the bridges.</p> +<p>Thomas had left my gun. The Doctor shouldered it. I think this +was the first gun he had ever touched. He took me with him.</p> +<p>Long lines of wagons and cannon were driving northward and +eastward on every road. The Doctor said little. Tears were in his +eyes and sobs in his voice. I had never seen him thus.</p> +<p>We reached the Sanitary Camp. The tents were already struck, and +the wagons ready to move.</p> +<p>"Stay here one moment, my boy," the Doctor said.</p> +<p>He left me and approached an ambulance, into which I could not +see; all its curtains were down. He raised the corner of a curtain, +remained there while one might count a hundred--or a million--and +came back to me.</p> +<p>"Now get in, Jones," he said, preparing to mount his horse.</p> +<p>I got in.</p> +<p>By my side was a woman ... weeping.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Lee's guns are grumbling in all the southwest quadrant of the +horizon. In the west Gregg's cavalry impedes the advance of A.P. +Hill; in the south Fitzhugh Lee is pressing hard upon Buford.</p> +<p>The retreat continues; I hold a woman's hand in mine.</p> +<hr style="width: 25%;"> +<p>Past the middle of an autumn night, where thick forests added to +the darkness fitfully relieved by the fires of hasty bivouacs, +there sat, apart from cannon and bayonets and sleeping battalions, +a group of three.</p> +<p>One was a man of years and of thought and of many virtues--at +least a sage, at least a hero.</p> +<p>One was a woman, young and sweet and pure and devoted.</p> +<p>One was a common soldier.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 12229 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/12229-h/images/033.png b/12229-h/images/033.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f1ca1f --- /dev/null +++ b/12229-h/images/033.png diff --git a/12229-h/images/186.png b/12229-h/images/186.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..28b9a92 --- /dev/null +++ b/12229-h/images/186.png diff --git a/12229-h/images/326.png b/12229-h/images/326.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e1ee0a1 --- /dev/null +++ b/12229-h/images/326.png diff --git a/12229-h/images/367.png b/12229-h/images/367.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..657aeef --- /dev/null +++ b/12229-h/images/367.png |
