CHAPTER XXIX
A DYING MESSAGE
In July, 1861, when the North, blinded by avarice and hate, rang with thecry of "On to Richmond," our Confederate Army of the Potomac was dividedbetween Manassa and Winchester, watching at both points the glitteringcoils of the Union boa-constrictor, which writhed in its efforts to crushthe last sanctuary of freedom. The stringency evinced along the Federallines prevented the transmission of dispatches by the Secessionists ofMaryland, and for a time Generals Beauregard and Johnston were kept inignorance of the movements of the enemy. Patterson hung dark and loweringaround Winchester, threatening daily descent; while the main column of thegrand army under McDowell proceeded from Washington, confident in theexpectation of overwhelming the small army stationed at Manassa. Thefriends of liberty who were compelled to remain in the desecrated oldcapital appreciated the urgent necessity of acquainting General Beauregardwith the designs of McDowell, and the arch-apostate, Scott; but allchannels of egress seemed sealed; all roads leading across the Potomac werevigilantly guarded, to keep the great secret safely; and painfulapprehensions were indulged for the fate of the Confederate army. But thePromethean spark of patriotic devotion burned in the hearts of Secessionwomen; and, resolved to dare all things in a cause so holy, a young lady ofWashington, strong in heroic faith, offered to encounter any perils, andpledged her life to give General Beauregard the necessary information.Carefully concealing a letter in the twist of her luxuriant hair, whichwould escape detection even should she be searched, she disguised herselfeffectually, and, under the mask of a market-woman, drove a cart throughWashington, across the Potomac, and deceived the guard by sellingvegetables and milk as she proceeded. Once beyond Federal lines, and infriendly neighbourhood, it was but a few minutes' work to "off yelendings," and secure a horse and riding-habit. With a courage andrapidity which must ever command the admiration of a brave people she rodeat hard gallop that burning July afternoon to Fairfax Court-house, andtelegraphed to General Beauregard, then at Manassa's Junction, theintelligence she had risked so much to convey. Availing himself promptly ofthe facts, he flashed them along electric wires to Richmond, and to GeneralJohnston; and thus, through womanly devotion, a timely junction of the twoarmies was effected, ere McDowell's banners flouted the skies of Bull Run.
The artillery duel of the 18th of July ended disastrously for the advanceguard of the Federals--a temporary check was given.
A pure Sabbath morning kindled on the distant hill-tops, wearing heavenlycredentials of rest and sanctity on its pearly forehead--credentials whichthe passions of mankind could not pause to recognize; and with the goldenglow of summer sunshine came the tramp of infantry, the clatter of cavalry,the sullen growl of artillery. Major Huntingdon had been temporarilyassigned to a regiment of infantry after leaving Richmond, and was postedon the right of General Beauregard's lines, commanding one of the lowerfords. Two miles higher up the stream, in a different brigade, ColonelAubrey's regiment guarded another of the numerous crossings. As the dayadvanced, and the continual roar of cannon toward Stone-Bridge and Sudley'sford indicated that the demonstrations on McLean's, Blackford's andMitchell's fords were mere feints to hold our right and centre, the truthflashed on General Beauregard that the main column was hurled againstEvans' little band on the extreme left. Hour after hour passed, and thethunder deepened on the Warrenton road; then the General learned, withunutterable chagrin, that his order for an advance on Centreville hadmiscarried, that a brilliant plan had been frustrated, and that newcombinations and dispositions must now be resorted to. The regiment towhich Major Huntingdon was attached was ordered to the support of the leftwing, and reached the distant position in an almost incredibly short time,while two regiments of the brigade to which Colonel Aubrey belonged weresent forward to the same point as a reserve.
Like incarnations of victory, Beauregard and Johnston swept to the frontwhere the conflict was most deadly; everywhere, at sight of them, our thinranks dashed forward, and were mowed down by the fire of Rickett's andGriffin's batteries, which crowned the position they were so eager toregain. At half-past two o'clock the awful contest was at its height; therattle of musketry, the ceaseless whistle of rifle balls, the deafeningboom of artillery, the hurtling hail of shot, the explosion of shell, densevolumes of smoke shrouding the combatants, and clouds of dust boiling up onall sides, lent unutterable horror to a scene which, to cold, dispassionateobservers, might have seemed sublime. As the vastly superior numbers of theFederals forced our stubborn bands to give back slowly, an order came fromGeneral Beauregard for the right of his line, except the reserves, toadvance, and recover the long and desperately disputed plateau. With ashout, the shattered lines sprang upon the foe and forced them temporarilyback. Major Huntingdon's horse was shot under him; he disengaged himselfand marched on foot, waving his sword and uttering words of encouragement.He had proceeded but a few yards when a grape-shot entered his side,tearing its way through his body, and he fell where the dead lay thickest.For a time the enemy retired, but heavy reinforcements pressed in, and theyreturned, reoccupying the old ground. Not a moment was to be lost; GeneralBeauregard ordered forward his reserves for a second effort, and withmagnificent effect, led the charge in person. Then Russell Aubrey firstcame actively upon the field. At the word of command he dashed forward withhis splendid regiment, and, high above all, towered his powerful form, withthe long black plume of his hat drifting upon the wind as he led hisadmiring men.
As he pressed on, with thin nostril dilated, and eyes that burned likethose of a tiger seizing his prey, he saw, just in his path, leaning on hiselbow, covered with blood, and smeared with dust, the crushed, witheringform of his bitterest enemy. His horse's hoofs were almost upon him; hereined him back an instant, and glared down at his old foe. It was only foran instant, and as Major Huntingdon looked on the stalwart figure and atthe advancing regiment, life-long hatred and jealousy wereforgotten--patriotism throttled all the past in her grasp--he feebly threwup his hand, cheered faintly, and, with his eyes on Russell's, smiledgrimly, saying, with evident difficulty--
"Beat them back, Aubrey! Give them the bayonet."
The shock was awful--beggaring language. On, on they swept, while ceaselesscheers mingled with the cannonade; the ground was recovered, to be capturedno more. The Federals were driven back across the turnpike, and now darkmasses of reinforcements debouched on the plain, and marched toward ourleft. Was it Grouchy or Blucher? Some moments of painful suspense ensued,while General Beauregard strained his eyes to decipher the advancingbanner. Red and white and blue, certainly; but was it the ensign ofDespotism or of Liberty? Nearer and nearer came the rushing column, and lo!upon the breeze streamed, triumphant as the Labarum of Constantine, theStars and Bars. Kirby Smith and Elzey--God be praised! The day was won, andVictory nestled proudly among the folds of our new-born banner. One morecharge along our whole line, and the hireling hordes of oppression fledpanic-stricken. Russell had received a painful wound from a minnie ball,which entered his shoulder and ranged down toward the elbow, but hemaintained his position, and led his regiment a mile in the pursuit. Whenit became evident that the retreat was a complete rout, he resigned thecommand to Lieutenant-Colonel Blackwell, and rode back to the battlefield.
Picking his way to avoid trampling the dead, Russell saw Major Huntingdonat a little distance, trying to drag himself toward a neighbouring tree.The memory of his injuries crowded upon the memory of all that he hadendured and lost through that man's prejudice--the sorrow that might havebeen averted from his blind mother--and his vindictive spirit rebelled atthe thought of rendering him aid. But as he paused and struggled againsthis better nature, Irene's holy face, as he saw it last, lifted in prayerfor him, rose, angel-like, above all that mass of death and horrors. Thesufferer was Irene's father; she was hundreds of miles away. Russell sethis lips firmly, and, riding up to the prostrate figure, dismounted.Exhausted by his efforts, Major Huntingdon had fallen back in the dust, andan expression of intolerable agony distorted his features
as Russellstooped over him, and asked in a voice meant to be gentle--
"Can I do anything for you? Could you sit up, if I placed you on my horse?"
The wounded man scowled as he recognized the voice and face, and turned hishead partially away, muttering--
"What brought you here?"
"There has never been any love between us, Major Huntingdon; but we arefighting in the same cause for the first time in our lives. You are badlywounded, and, as a fellow-soldier, I should be glad to relieve yoursufferings, if possible. Once more, for humanity's sake, I ask, can youride my horse to the rear, if I assist you to mount?"
"No. But, for God's sake, give me some water!"
Russell knelt, raised the head, and unbuckling his canteen, put it to hislips, using his own wounded arm with some difficulty. Half of the contentswas eagerly swallowed, and the remainder Russell poured slowly on thegaping, ghastly wound in his side. The proud man eyed him, steadily tillthe last cool drop was exhausted, and said sullenly--
"You owe me no kindness, Aubrey. I hate you, and you know it. But you haveheaped coals of fire on my head. You are more generous than I thought you.Thank you, Aubrey; lay me under that tree yonder, and let me die."
"I will try to find a surgeon. Who belongs to your regiment?"
"Somebody whom I never saw till last week. I won't have him hacking aboutme. Leave me in peace."
"Do you know anything of your servant? I saw him as I came on the field."
"Poor William! he followed me so closely that he was shot through the head.He is lying three hundred yards to the left, yonder. Poor fellow! he wasfaithful to the last."
A tear dimmed the master's eagle eye as he muttered, rather than spoke,these words.
"Then I will find Dr. Arnold at once, and send him to you."
It was no easy matter, on that crowded, confused Aceldama, and theafternoon was well-nigh spent before Russell, faint and weary, descried Dr.Arnold busily using his instruments in a group of wounded. He rode up, and,having procured a drink of water and refilled his canteen, approached thesurgeon.
"Doctor, where is your horse? I want you."
"Ho, Cyrus! bring him up. What is the matter, Aubrey? You are hurt."
"Nothing serious, I think. But Major Huntingdon is desperatelywounded--mortally, I am afraid. See what you can do for him."
"You must be mistaken! I have asked repeatedly for Leonard, and they toldme he was in hot pursuit, and unhurt. I hope to Heaven you are mistaken."
"Impossible; I tell you I lifted him out of a pool of his own blood. Come;I will show you the way."
At a hard gallop they crossed the intervening woods, and, withoutdifficulty, Russell found the spot where the mangled form lay still. He hadswooned, with his face turned up to the sky, and the ghastliness of deathhad settled on his strongly marked, handsome features.
"God pity Irene!" said the doctor, as he bent down and examined the horridwound, striving to press the red lips together.
The pain caused from handling him roused the brave spirit to consciousness,and opening his eyes he looked around wonderingly.
"Well, Hiram! it is all over with me, old fellow."
"I hope not, Leonard; can't you turn a little, and let me feel for theball?"
"It is of no use; I am torn all to pieces. Take me out of this dirt, on thefresh grass somewhere."
"I must first extract the ball. Aubrey, can you help me raise him alittle?"
Administering some chloroform, he soon succeeded in taking out the ball,and, with Russell's assistance, passed a bandage round the body.
"There is no chance for me, Hiram; I know that. I have few minutes to live.Some water."
Russell put a cup to his white lips, and calling in the assistance ofCyrus, who had followed his master, they carried him several yards farther,and made him comfortable, while orders were despatched for an ambulance.
A horrible convulsion seized him at this moment, and so intense was theagony that a groan burst through his set teeth, and he struggled to rise.Russell knelt down and rested the haughty head against his shoulder, wipingoff the cold drops that beaded the pallid brow. After a little while,lifting his eyes to the face bending over him, Major Huntingdon gazed intothe melancholy black eyes, and said, almost in a whisper--
"I little thought I should ever owe you thanks. Aubrey, forgive me all myhate; you can afford to do so now. I am not a brute; I know magnanimitywhen I see it. Perhaps I was wrong to visit Amy's sins on you; but I couldnot forgive her. Aubrey, it was natural that I should hate Amy's son."
Again the spasm shook his lacerated frame, and twenty minutes after hisfierce, relentless spirit was released from torture; the proud, ambitious,dauntless man was with his God.
Dr. Arnold closed the eyes with trembling fingers, and covered his facewith his hands to hide the tears that he could not repress.
For some moments silence reigned; then Dr. Arnold said suddenly--
"Come in, and let me see your arm. Your sleeve is full of blood."
An examination discovered a painful flesh-wound--the minnie ball havingglanced from the shoulder and passed out through the upper part of the arm.In removing the coat to dress the wound, the doctor exclaimed--
"Here is a bullet-hole in the breast, which must have just missed yourheart! Was it a spent ball?"
A peculiar smile disclosed Russell's faultless teeth an instant, but hemerely took the coat, laid it over his uninjured arm, and answered--
"Don't trouble yourself about spent balls--finish your job. I must lookafter my wounded."
As soon as the bandages were adjusted he walked away and took from theinside pocket of the coat a heavy square morocco case containing Irene'sambrotype. When the coat was buttoned as on that day, it rested over hisheart; and during the second desperate charge of General Beauregard'slines, Russell felt a sudden thump, and, above all the roar of that sceneof carnage, heard the shivering of the glass which covered the likeness.The morocco was torn and indented, but the ball was turned aside harmless,and now, as he touched the spring, the fragments of glass fell at his feet.It was evident that his towering form had rendered him a conspicuoustarget; some accurate marksman had aimed at his heart, and theambrotype-case had preserved his life. With a countenance pale fromphysical suffering, but beaming with triumphant joy for the Nation's firstgreat victory, he went out among the dead and dying, striving to relievethe wounded, and to find the members of his own command.
But all of intolerable torture centred not there, awful as was the scene.Throughout the length and breadth of the Confederacy telegraphic despatchestold that the battle was raging; and an army of women spent that 21st upontheir knees, in agonizing prayer for husbands and sons who wrestled fortheir birthright on the far-off field of blood.
The people of W---- were subjected to painful suspense as hour after hourcrept by, and a dense crowd collected in front of the telegraph office,whence floated an ominous red flag. Andrew waited on horseback to carry toIrene the latest intelligence, and during the entire afternoon she pacedthe colonnade, with her eyes fixed on the winding road. At half-past fiveo'clock the solemn stillness of the sultry day was suddenly broken by awild, prolonged shout from the town; cheer after cheer was caught up by thehills, echoed among the purple valleys, and finally lost in the roar of theriver. Andrew galloped up the avenue with an extra, yet damp from theprinting-press, containing the joyful tidings that McDowell's army had beencompletely routed, and was being pursued toward Alexandria. Meagre was theaccount--our heroes, Bee and Bartow, had fallen. No other details weregiven, but the premonition, "Heavy loss on our side," sent a thrill ofhorror to every womanly heart, dreading to learn the price of victory.Irene's white face flashed as she read the despatch, and raising her hands,exclaimed--
"Oh, thank God! thank God!"
"Shall I go back to the office?"
"Yes; I shall certainly get a despatch from father some time to-night. Goback and wait for it. Tell Mr. Rogers, the operator, what you came for, andask him I say please t
o let you have it as soon as it arrives. And, Andrew,bring me any other news that may come before my despatch."
As the night advanced, her face grew haggard, and the wan lips flutteredceaselessly. Russell she regarded as already dead to her in this world, butfor her father she wrestled desperately in spirit. Mrs. Campbell joinedher, uttering hopeful, encouraging words, and Nellie came out, with a cupof tea on a waiter.
"Please drink your tea, just to please me, Queen. I can't bear to look atyou. In all your life I never saw you worry so. Do sit down and rest; youhave walked fifty miles since morning."
"Take it away, Nellie. I don't want it."
"But, child, it will be time enough to fret when you know Mas' Leonard ishurt. Don't run to meet trouble; it will face you soon enough. If you won'ttake the tea, for pity's sake let me get you a glass of wine."
"No; I tell you I can't swallow anything. If you want to help me, pray forfather."
She resumed her walk, with her eyes strained in the direction of the town.
Thus passed three more miserable hours; then the clang of the iron gate atthe foot of the avenue fell on her aching ear; the tramp of horses' hoofsand roll of wheels came up the gravelled walk.
The carriage stopped; Judge Harris and his wife came up the steps,followed slowly by Andrew, whose hat was slouched over his eyes. As theyapproached Irene put out her hands wistfully.
"We have won a glorious victory, Irene, but many of our noble soldiers arewounded. I knew you would be anxious, and we came----"
"Is my father killed!"
"Your father was wounded. He led a splendid charge."
"Wounded! No! he is killed! Andrew, tell me the truth--is father dead?"
The faithful negro could no longer repress his grief, and sobbedconvulsively, unable to reply.
"Oh, my God! I knew it!" she gasped.
The gleaming arms were thrown up despairingly, and a low, dreary cry wailedthrough the stately old mansion as the orphan turned her eyes upon Nellieand Andrew--the devoted two who had petted her from childhood.
Judge Harris led her into the library, and his weeping wife endeavoured tooffer consolation, but she stood rigid and tearless, holding out her handfor the despatch. Finally they gave it to her and she read:--
"CHARLES T. HARRIS--
"Huntingdon was desperately wounded at three o'clock to-day, in making acharge. He died two hours ago. I was with him. The body leaves to-morrowfor W----.
"HIRAM ARNOLD."
The paper fell from her fingers; with a dry sob she turned from them, andthrew herself on the sofa, with her face of woe to the wall. So passed thenight.