[Frontispiece: RODNEY BIDS HIS MOTHER FAREWELL.]
CASTLEMON'S WAR SERIES,
----
RODNEY THE PARTISAN
BY
HARRY CASTLEMON,
AUTHOR OF "GUNBOAT SERIES," "ROCKY MOUNTAIN SERIES," "SPORTSMAN'S CLUB SERIES," ETC., ETC.
Four Illustrations by Geo. G. White.
PHILADELPHIA:
PORTER & COATES
COPYRIGHT, 1890,
BY
PORTER & COATES.
CONTENTS.
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CHAPTER PAGE
I.--RODNEY KEEPS HIS PROMISE, . . . 5
II.--THE RANGERS ELECT OFFICERS, . . 29
III.--DRILLS AND PARADES, . . . . . . 53
IV.--A SCHEME THAT DIDN'T WORK, . . 78
V.--A WARNING, . . . . . . . . . . 99
VI.--UNDER SUSPICION, . . . . . . . 124
VII.--THE EMERGENCY MEN, . . . . . . 149
VIII.--RODNEY PROVES HIS FRIENDSHIP, . 172
IX.--ON THE ROAD, . . . . . . . . . 196
X.--COMPARING NOTES, . . . . . . . 218
XI.--RODNEY MAKES A TRADE, . . . . . 241
XII.--TWICE SURPRISED, . . . . . . . 264
XIII.--WITH PRICE'S MEN, . . . . . . . 287
XIV.--"HURRAH FOR BULL RUN!" . . . . 312
XV.--A FULL-FLEDGED PARTISAN, . . . 334
XVI.--THE CONSCRIPTION ACT, . . . . . 357
XVII.--RODNEY MEETS A FRIEND, . . . . 378
XVIII.--CONCLUSION, . . . . . . . . . . 399
RODNEY, THE PARTISAN.
CHAPTER I.
RODNEY KEEPS HIS PROMISE.
"So you are going to stick to your uniform, are you? I thought perhapsyou would be glad to see yourself in citizen's clothes once more, and soI told Jane to put one of your old suits on the bed where you would besure to see it."
It was Mrs. Gray who spoke, and her words were addressed to her sonRodney, who just then stepped out of the hall upon the wide gallerywhere his father and mother were sitting. Rodney had been at home abouthalf an hour just long enough, in fact, to take a good wash and exchangehis fatigue suit for a sergeant's full uniform.
In the first volume of this series of books we told of the attentionsour Union hero, Marcy Gray, received while he was on the way to his homein North Carolina, and how very distasteful and annoying they were tohim. We said that the passengers on his train took him for just what hewasn't--a rebel soldier fresh from the seat of war, or a recruit on hisway to join some Southern regiment--and praised and petted himaccordingly. Marcy didn't dare tell the excited men around him that hewas strong for the Union, that he had refused to cheer the Stars andBars when they were hoisted on the tower of the Barrington MilitaryAcademy, and that if a war came he hoped the secessionists would bethrashed until they were brought to their senses--Marcy did not daregive utterance to these sentiments, for fear that some of the half tipsypassengers in his car might use upon him the revolvers they flourishedabout so recklessly. He was obliged to sail under false colors until hereached Boydtown in his native State, where Morris, his mother'scoachman, was waiting for him. Rodney Gray, the rebel, who you willremember left the academy a few weeks before Marcy did, received just asmuch attention during his homeward journey. Sumter had not yet beenfired upon, but the passengers on the train were pretty certain it wasgoing to be, and gave it as their opinion that if the "Lincolnites"attempted "subjugation" they would be neatly whipped for their pains.Being in full sympathy with the passengers Rodney was not afraid to tellwho and what he was.
"I am neither a soldier nor a recruit," he said over and over again,when some enthusiastic rebel shook him by the hand and praised him forso promptly responding to the President's call for volunteers. "I am aBarrington cadet on my way home, and I am under promise to enlist insideof twenty-four hours after I get there. Do you see this gray suit? Ishall not wear any other color until the independence of the SouthernStates has been acknowledged by the world."
Such sentiments as these never failed to "bring down the car," as Rodneyafterward expressed it when describing some of the incidents of hisjourney from Barrington, and many of the passengers assured him that hewould be at liberty to put on a citizen's suit in less than six months.
"The fighting won't amount to anything," said one, who talked as if hethought himself able to whip the whole Yankee nation alone and unaided."It will be over in a good deal less than six months, but you gallantfellows will have to wear your uniforms a little longer in order toescort President Davis to Washington. He will dictate terms of peace inthe enemy's capital."
"If our President will only do that, I will stay in the army ten yearsif it is necessary," declared Rodney, and he meant every word of it, forhe was carried away by his enthusiasm.
A good many foolish notions of this sort were drummed into Rodney Gray'shead during his two days' journey from Barrington to Mooreville. Heafterward had occasion to recall some of them, and to wonder how he evercame to accept them as the truth. But he kept his word so far as hisuniform was concerned; that is to say, he returned to the closet thecitizen's suit that had been laid out for him, and rigged himself up asif he were going on dress parade. His mother looked at him with fond andadmiring eyes as he stepped upon the gallery and seated himself in theeasy chair that one of the attentive darkies placed for him; for Rodneywas an only child, and a very fine looking young soldier besides.
"Yes," he said, in reply to his mother's question. "I am going to stickto my uniform. It is the color that has been adopted by our government,and, as I told some of the passengers on the train, I'll not wear anyother until we have secured our independence."
"Nobly said!" exclaimed Rodney's mother, who was as strong forsecession as Marcy Gray's mother was for the Union. "I was sure youwould not stay at home very long after your State called for yourservices. I don't think you will have to wear the gray for a very greatwhile, but your father thinks he sees trouble in the near future."
"I don't think so my dear; I know so," replied Mr. Gray, in answer to aninquiring look from Rodney. "The North can raise more men than we can."
"That was what the colonel said when I asked him to let me come home,"exclaimed Rodney. "He said, further, that the Northern people are notcowardly--they are only patient; and that there will come a time whentheir patience will all be gone, and then they will sweep over us like acloud of locusts."
"And did you believe any such nonsense?" inquired Mrs. Gray. "What willour brave people be doing while the hated Yankees are sweeping over us?Don't you remember our President said the fighting must all be done onNorthern soil?"
"It takes two to make a bargain," said Mr. Gray, quietly.
"That's just what Marcy said," exclaimed Rodney. "That boy is going toget himself into business before he gets through talking. He's Union tothe back-bone, and while I was at the academy he didn't hesitate tospeak his sentiments as often as he felt like it. If he keeps that upwhen he gets home his neighbors may take him in hand."
"I am sorry to hear that about Marcy," said Mr. Gray, thoughtfully. "Heis a traitor and his mother must be another. I wonder where Sailor Jackstands. By the way, where is Jack?"
"He was at sea the last I heard, and I suppose Marcy and his mother aregreatly worried about him. And well they m
ay be; for of course we'llhave a big fleet of privateers afloat within a month after war isdeclared. But, father, do you think there is going to be a war?"
"I am sure of it," answered Mr. Gray.
"And it will be fought on Southern soil?"
"It will."
"Well, how long do you think I shall have to wear this uniform?"
"If you don't take it off until the South gains her independence, youwill have to wear it as long as you live."
"Why, father!" exclaimed Mrs. Gray, dropping her sewing into her lap andlooking fixedly at her husband, who leaned back in his big chairwatching the smoke from his cigar. "How can you bring yourself to uttersuch treasonable language in your son's hearing? You know you do notbelieve a word of it."
"Never fear for me, mother," said Rodney, with a laugh. "I know whereyou stand and I am with you."
"There was nothing treasonable in what I said, and I do believe everyword of it," replied Mr. Gray. "I am as firm a friend to the South asany man in the state, and will make as many sacrifices as the next oneto secure her independence. Why shouldn't I? Every thing I've got in theworld is right here, and if the South doesn't succeed in her efforts tofree herself, we'll be beggars, the last one of us. I wish from thebottom of my heart that when our armies get started they might sweepevery abolitionist in the country into Massachusetts Bay; but they'llnot be able to do it. The Union has cost the Northern people so muchblood and treasure that they will not permit it to be destroyed."
"I reckon the South had about as much to do with the war of theRevolution as the North did," declared Rodney.
"And another thing, the Northern people will not fight," Mrs. Grayhastened to add. "Wasn't it the South that did the most toward whippingMexico?"
"And wasn't it the North that did the most toward whipping England?"retorted Mr. Gray. "Look here," he added, starting up in his chair whenhe saw Rodney and his mother look toward each other with a smile ofdisbelief on their faces. "You must have forgotten your history, youtwo. During the Revolutionary War the colonies raised two hundred andthirty-two thousand men to fight England, and of this number the Northraised one hundred and seventy-five thousand, or more than three-fourthsof the whole. Massachusetts gave sixty-eight thousand; Connecticut gavethirty-two thousand; Pennsylvania twenty-six thousand, and New Yorkeighteen thousand; while that miserable little South Carolina gave onlysix thousand. And yet she has the impudence to talk and act as if sheowned the country. It would have been money in her pocket and ours ifshe had been sunk out of sight in the Atlantic before she was made intoa state."
There were three things that surprised Rodney so much that for a minuteor two he could not speak--his father's sentiments, the earnest andemphatic manner in which he expressed them, and the items of history towhich he had just listened and which were quite new to him, as they maybe to more than one boy who reads this story. But Mr. Gray was like agood many other men in the South. He did not believe in disunion(although he did believe in State Rights), but now that the South wasfully committed to it, he knew that he must do what he could to make theattempt at separation successful. If it failed, he and every otherslave-holder in the South would be financially ruined.
"Then I suppose you don't want me to go into the army?" said Rodney, atlength.
"I didn't say so; I didn't so much as hint at such a thing," replied hisfather, hastily.
"But what's the use of enlisting if I am going to get whipped? I don'tsee any fun in that."
"Oh, we've got to fight; we have gone too far to back out. We must holdout until England and France recognize our independence--and that willnot be long, for England must have cotton--and then we can snap ourfingers at the Yankees. You can take your choice of one of two things:Stay at home and look out for your mother and let me go, or goyourself."
"You stay and let me go," answered the boy promptly. "I gave my word tosome of the fellows that I would enlist within twenty-four hours after Ireached home, if I could get to a recruiting office, and they promisedto do the same."
"Very well," said Mr. Gray, "I shall not say one word to turn you fromyour purpose, and neither will your mother,"
Mrs. Gray started when she heard these words. She had talked verybravely about "giving her boy his sword and shield and sending him forthto battle," and she had thought she could do it without a tremor; butnow that the matter was brought right home to her, she found, as manyanother mother did, that it was going to be the hardest task she hadever set for herself. Rodney was safe at school, hundreds of miles awayfrom her when she uttered those patriotic words; now he was withinhearing of her voice, and all she had to do was to tell him to mount hishorse and go. She could not do it; but her husband, who believed thatthe matter might as well be settled one time as another, continued--
"There is an independent company of cavalry camped about a mile theother side of Mooreville, and I know they would be glad to take you in.The company is made up of the very best men in the county, many of whomare your personal friends, and every member has to be balloted for."
"They are nearly all wealthy, and some of them are going to take theirbody servants to the front with them," added Mrs. Gray, trying to lookcheerful although her eyes were filled with tears. "Your father and Ispent an afternoon in their camp, and you don't know how nicely they aresituated--all the luxuries the country affords on their tables, and thenthey are so full of martial ardor!"
"Yes," assented Mr. Gray. "We found it a regulation holidaycamp--nothing to do and plenty of darkies to do it. They were having noend of fun, lying around in the shade abusing the Yankees. But waituntil they meet those same Yankees in battle, and their blacks run awayfrom them, and then they have to do their own cooking and forage fortheir bacon and hard-tack, and then they will know what soldieringmeans."
"Now, father," protested Mrs. Gray. "Why do you talk so when Rodney ison the eve of enlisting? You surely do not wish to discourage him?"
"By no means. I only want to make him see, before he swears away hisliberty for the next twelve months, that he is not going on a Fourth ofJuly picnic. If he knows what is before him, he will not be surprised ordisheartened when the hard times come."
"I know a little something about soldiering, and you need have no fearsthat anything father can say will discourage me," Rodney said to hismother. "I have passed my word, and consider myself as good as enlistedalready. Who commands that company of cavalry?"
"Bob Hubbard is the one who is getting it up, but there isn't any realcommander yet. The boys do just about as they please, and will keep ondoing so until the officers are elected, which will be when they haveeighty men enrolled. Bob says that if they elect him captain, and Ireckon he stands as good a chance as anybody, the boys will have to comedown to Limerick and quit leaving camp and staying in town over nightwhenever the notion takes them."
"Have they seen any service at all?" asked Rodney.
"None except what some of them saw while they were members of the Statemilitia," answered his father. "They helped capture the United Statesarsenal at Baton Rouge and hoist the Pelican flag over it, and you wouldhave thought by the way they acted that they had done something grand.But the work was accomplished without the firing of a shot, the major incommand offering to surrender if a force of six or eight hundred men wasbrought against him. By the way," added Mr. Gray getting upon his feetand tossing aside the stump of his cigar, "I expected you to do justwhat you have decided upon, and if you feel like taking a walk around tothe stable before dinner, I will show you the horse I bought for youlast week. Every 'Ranger' (that's what Hubbard calls his men), furnisheshis own horse, the government allowing a small sum for the use of it;and if the horse dies or is killed in battle, the unlucky Ranger isexpected to get another the best way he can."
"Where is this company going to serve?" inquired Rodney.
"I don't know, and neither does Hubbard. They have offered to join aregiment that is being raised in New Orleans, but the colonel commandingsays he can't take them unless they will give up t
heir independentorganization."
"Oh, I hope they'll not think of doing that."
"You needn't worry. More than one Swamp Fox like General Marion willcome to the front before this thing is over, and Bob's company will notbe left out in the cold. I haven't said much to your mother about yourgoing into the service," Mr. Gray went on, throwing open the door of abox stall and holding out an ear of corn to a glossy, well-conditionedsteed which came up to take a bite at it. "While she is strong forsecession and very patriotic where other folks are concerned, she don'twant any of the members of her own family to go to war. She thinks theyare sure to be killed."
"That isn't at all like the women and girls around Barrington," repliedRodney, stepping into the stall and beginning a critical inspection ofhis new horse. "They'll not have any thing to do with a fellow who isn'twilling to prove his devotion to the Confederacy. Where would we get themen to fight our battles if everybody thought as mother does?"
"Of course she hasn't said so," Mr. Gray hastened to explain. "She istoo good a Southerner for that, but I know it is the way she feels. Whatdo you think of your horse? He is part Denmark, and that is what makeshim so gentle; and his Copper-bottom blood shows in his color. Almostall Copper-bottom colts are roans."
"He's a beauty," Rodney declared, with enthusiasm. "And as long as Ikeep him I'll never fall into the clutches of the Yankees. He ought tohave speed."
(And the new horse did have speed, too, as Rodney discovered when herode him over to the camp of the Rangers that afternoon in company withhis father. He moved as if he were set on springs and showed himselfimpatient of restraint; but his motions were so easy that his rider wasscarcely stirred in his seat.)
"Good-by, my son," said Mrs. Gray, when Rodney's horse and his father'swere brought to the door after dinner, and the two stood on the gallerydrawing on their gloves. "You belong to me now, but I suppose that whenyou come back you will belong to your country."
"Oh no: I can't rush things through in that style." answered the boy."I've got to be voted for, you know. But I shall certainly tell Mr.Hubbard that I am ready to go if he will take me."
During the ride through the village of Mooreville to the camp beyond,the only indications Rodney saw of the martial spirit that everywhereanimated the people were the Confederate and State flags that floatedover all the business houses, and the red, white and blue rosettes,which were worn principally by the women and girls. Rodney was the onlyone in uniform, the Rangers not having decided how they would equipthemselves when the time came for them to go to the front. Rodney waskept busy returning the salutes he received as he rode along, and nowand then some young fellow would rush into the street to shake his hand,and inquire if he was going up to the camp to give in his name. The campwas not such a one as the Barrington cadets used to make when they tookto the fields every summer to reduce to practice the militaryinstruction they had received during the year. There were tents inabundance, but they were put up without any attempt at order, there wereno guards out, and the few recruits there were in camp seemed to havenothing to do but lounge around under the trees, reading the papers andtalking over the situation. Rodney thought they might as well have beenat home for all the good they were doing there.
"This is a pretty way to learn soldiering," said he to Mr. Hubbard, whopromptly showed himself when he heard the sound of horses' hoofs infront of his tent. "How many men have you? Will you take in my name?"
"You are just the fellow we want and I wish we could get fifty more likeyou," replied Mr. Hubbard, returning the cordial grasp of Rodney's hand."The boys will certainly put you in for something or other. We haven'tgot down to business yet, but will next week. I suppose that all themilitary knowledge we get will be by hard knocks, because, being anindependent company, we cannot call upon any army officer to drill us.We are studying the tactics all the time, but are in no hurry to get ouruniforms until we know whether or not our services are going to beneeded."
"Say," exclaimed Rodney, recalling to mind something that had been saidto him on the train a few hours before. "If I were in your place I'dlose no time in getting ready to march. President Davis is going todictate terms of peace in Washington. Wouldn't you like to have yourcompany escort him there?"
"Now, that's an idea," exclaimed Hubbard, while the recruits who werestanding around listening to the conversation declared as one man thatthey would do and dare anything if they could only have a chance topresent arms to the Confederate President when he walked into the WhiteHouse. "The boys will all be here at roll-call to-night and I will speakto them about it. At the same time I will propose you for membership.You'll get in, of course, and perhaps you had better report tomorrowforenoon."
Although Rodney could not see the use of reporting, seeing that therewas nothing to be done in camp, he promised to be on hand, and rode awayto call upon some of his friends in the village. He found, somewhat tohis relief, that there was not a single one among them who believed ashis father did that the South was sure to fail in her efforts todissolve the Union. They all thought as Rodney did--that the Northernpeople belonged to an inferior race, that there was no fight in them,and that the States having made the nation could unmake it whenever theyfelt like it. He learned also, to his no small indignation, that hisfather did not stand as high in the estimation of his neighbors as hemight have done if he had not expressed his opinions with so muchfreedom. As he was about to leave the village for home just before dark,he encountered an old acquaintance of his, Tom Randolph by name, who hadjust returned from the camp.
"You're in, Rodney," said he, after he had given the Barrington boy avery limp hand to shake. "To-morrow forenoon we're going to electofficers and get down to business. Will you be up?"
Rodney replied that he would, and at the same time he wondered why itwas that Randolph treated him so coolly. They never had been friends.They took a dislike to each other the first time they met, and theoftener they were thrown together, the stronger that dislike seemed togrow. They had always tried to treat each other with civility, but nowthere was something in Randolph's way of talking and acting that Rodneydid not like.
"While you were up to camp to-day did any of the boys tell you that I ama candidate for second lieutenant of the company?" continued Randolph.
"You?" exclaimed Rodney, in genuine astonishment.
"Yes, me," replied Randolph, mimicing Rodney's tone and look ofsurprise. "And why haven't I as good a right as anybody, I should bepleased to know?"
"I suppose there is no law to prevent you from running for office, butyou don't know the first thing about military matters. If the companywas in line this minute, and you were second lieutenant of it, youcouldn't go to your position unless somebody showed you where it was."
"Well, I can learn, can't I?" snapped Randolph. "You didn't know trailarms from right-shoulder shift when you first joined the academy, didyou? The company ought to give me that place, for my father has done aheap for it with money and influence. Some who are now recruits heldback because they were not able to fit themselves out decently, butfather told them that the want of money need not stand in their way. Ifthey would go ahead and enlist, he would see that they had horses,weapons, uniforms and everything else they wanted. He did what he couldto promote enlistments instead of preaching up the doctrine that theSouth is going to be whipped and the slaves all made free."
Rodney knew well enough that this was a slap at his father, but hedidn't see how he could resent it, for it was nothing but the truth.
"That's why I say that the company ought to make me an officer,"continued Randolph, after a short pause. "I know you are all right, forI heard how you stood up for the Confederacy while you were at school,and I'll tell you what I'll do with you: If you will give me your votefor second lieutenant, I'll do what I can to have you elected thirdsergeant. The other places are spoken for."
"I am very much obliged to you," replied Rodney.
"Is it a bargain?"
"Not much. I'll not vote for a man to be placed o
ver me unless he knowsmore than I do."
"Perhaps you want a commission yourself," said Randolph, with somethinglike a sneer.
"No, I don't. I never thought of such a thing."
"Because if you do, I want to tell you that you can't get it," continuedRandolph. "Your father hasn't done half as much for the company as hemight have done, and the boy's don't like the way he talks."
"Then let's see the boys help themselves," answered Rodney, as he placedhis foot in the stirrup and swung himself into the saddle. "Time willshow who is willing to do the most for the success of the Confederacy,your father or mine."
So saying he put the roan colt into a gallop and set out for home.