CHAPTER XIV. DEACON KLEGG'S SURPRISE
DECIDES TO VISIT MURFREESBORO' AND MEETS WITH ADVENTURES.
"MOTHER," said Mr. Josiah Klegg, Sr., suddenly laying down the Countypaper, and beginning to polish his spectacles with his red bandanna, "doyou know what I've the greatest mind in the world to do?"
It was an evening in February, 1863, and the family had been sittingfor some hours after supper around the bright fire, engaged in variousoccupations.
"No, father," said Mrs. Klegg, looking up from her knitting with suchinterest that she dropped several stitches. The girls stopped theirsewing, and turned expectant eyes on their father. When Mr. JosiahKlegg, sr., announced that he had a great mind to do anything, thatthing stood in imminent danger of being done. He was not given toordinary schemes, still less to idle speech. He thought slowly anddoggedly, but when he had arrived at a conclusion there were 200 poundsof solid, stubborn unchangeable Indiana farmer behind the conclusion.
"What is it, father?" asked Mrs. Klegg, making an automatic effort togather up her lost stitches.
"I've a good mind to go down to Murfreesboro' and{161} see Si,"responded the father.
"Why, father!" gasped the three "wimmen folks."
"Go down there among them gorillas?" ejaculated Mrs. Klegg.
"And John Morgan raiders," echoed Maria.
"And Secesh soljers, butternut brigands, rebel rascals," added Tilda.
"Well," answered Mr. Klegg, deliberately, "they've been peggin' awayat Si for a good many months now, and they haven't killed him by a jugfull. Guess I kin stand 'em for a few days. The papers say that thearmy's settled down at Murfreesboro' for the Winter, and that therailroad's runnin' all right from Looyiville clean there. I kin donothin' 'round the farm for the next three or four weeks, till Springopens, except the chores about the house, which Jimmie Watkins kin tendto as well as I kin. I've got all my fences in good shape, and split allthe rails I need. There's wood enough cut to last the Winter out. I'vehauled all the wheat to town I'm goin' to till prices go higher. Ifinished gittin' out my clover seed yesterday, and now there's nothin'left for a month but to do boy's work 'round the house, or talk politicsdown at the store. I'd rather go down and see Si."
"Why, father," remonstrated Mrs. Klegg, "how kin you ever git along inthem camps, and live the way them soljers do?"
"You forgit," said her husband, with a touch of dignity, "that I druvteam for a whole week in the Black Hawk war. I wanted to enlist, but Iwas too young. Then I turned out and drilled with the militia as long asthere was any musters. I know a good{162} deal more about war than youthink."
"How do you s'pose you'll ever find Si in all that ruck o' men?" saidMrs. Klegg doubtfully.
"O, they all know Si by this time," returned the father confidently."Besides, he's an officer now. I'll go right to Gen. Rosecrans'sHeadquarters. He's probably right near him, where he kin have him at anytime. But don't write to Si that I'm comin'. I want to surprise him."
As soon as it was seen that the father was determined to go, mother anddaughters entered upon the scheme with the greatest enthusiasm.
Each began to think of some useful thing that they could send to Si toadd to his comfort. Mrs. Klegg had already knit a couple of pairs oflambs'-wool socks, and was at work on a third. Maria had knit a pairof mittens, gay with the National colors and representing the flag. Theblue field with the white stars around the wrists, while the red andwhite stripes ran down the fingers. When they were put on the effect waspicturesque, not to say startling.
"When Si holds up his hands," remarked Matilda, "they'll look likebig hollyhock blossoms, and the men'll wonder where he got posies inWinter."
Matilda contributed a red flannel shirt, upon which she had been engagedsince the beginning of Winter reminded her that such a present would bevery acceptable to Si. She had done a lot of her finest stitching uponit. Si's initials were wrought in white thread on the cuffs, and on thebosom was a maze of white lines representing hearts, anchors, roses andflags of the Union. In the center of these, in letters of bold outlinebut rugged execution, was the legend: "Josiah Klegg. His shirt. FromTildy."{163}
"Round is the ring, That has no end; So is my luv for you, My dearest friend."
"I know it ain't quite right to speak of Si as a friend," she explained,when she spread the shirt out for the family's examination andadmiration; "but I couldn't think of nothin' to rhyme with brother."
"I could," said Maria, in her superior way. "I'd said somethin' likethis:
"The ring's no end From which to t'other; So is the love I send My onliest brother."
"Maria, you always was so much smarter'n me in writin' poetry," admittedMatilda. "It would've bin ever so much nicer. But it's too late now todo it over agin."
Annabel was sorely puzzled what to send. She wanted something thatwould be indicative of her feelings toward Si, and yet maiden modestyrestrained with the fear of sending something that might be toosignificant. She spent a sleepless night thinking it over, and finallydecided to send a new ambrotype of herself, with a lock of her hair. Itis needless to say that this kept Si warmer than a whole bale of flannelshirts would have done.
A thousand things occurred to the family that Si would enjoy, from acouple of feather pillows to a{164} crock of "head cheese," of which Siused to be immensely fond. The old hair trunk was brought down from thegarret, and its dimensions studied. But the next evening Jim Wilkins, ofCo. Q, who was home patching up a leg which had caught a bullet at StoneRiver, came in, and his advice was asked.
"No, sir-ree," said he, emphatically. "Don't you never take no trunk norno box. Don't you take nothin' that you can't hang on to, and keep youreye on every minute. I think the Army o' the Cumberland is the mosthonestest army in the whole world. I'd knock any man down in a minutethat hinted there was a single thief in it. All the same, the only sureway to keep anything you want is to never let go of it for a second.You'd better only take a carpetsack, and look mighty sharp after that,the nearer you git to the army. Keep one eye on it all the timeafter you cross the Ohio River, and both eyes on it when you git toMurfreesboro'."
A STOUTLY-BUILT, FARMER-LOOKING MAN ENTERED THE TRAIN164]
A week later a strongly-built, farmer-looking man entered the Nashvilletrain at Louisville and looked anxiously around among the crowd ofsoldiers with which it was filled. His full, resolute face was destituteof whiskers, except a clump of sandy hair on his chin. He wore a coarsebut warm overcoat, a black slouch hat, around his neck was a voluminousyarn comforter, and mittens of the same generous proportions were on hishands, one of which held a bulging blue umbrella and the other a largestriped carpetsack.
He found a vacant seat beside a rough-looking soldier, who had evidentlybeen drinking, placed his precious carpetsack between his heavy,well-oiled boots, stuck his umbrella beside it, unwound his comforter,laid it back on his shoulders, took off his mittens, unbuttoned hisovercoat, and took from his pocket a long plug of navy tobacco, fromwhich he cut off a liberal chew, and then courteously tendered the plugand knife to his neighbor, with the ramark:{166}
"Have a chaw, stranger."
The soldier took the plug, cut it in two, put the bigger part in his ownpocket, sliced off a liberal portion off the other for his own mouth,and then rather reluctantly handed the remainder, with the knife, backto Mr. Klegg, without so much as a "thankee."
"Manners seem a little different in the army from what they are inInjianny," thought Mr. Klegg; "but mebbe the soldier's not had a chanceto git any terbaker for a long time."
He chewed meditatively for some minutes, and then made another friendlyadvance toward his seat-partner.
"S'pose we'll start purty soon, won't we, stranger?"
"The devil you do," responded the other surlily, and sending overa strong whisky breath. "Don't know much about this blamed oldstart-when-it-pleases and stop-when-you-don't-want-to railroad.We'll start when some young sardine with shoulder-straps finishes hisbreakfast, and st
op when John Morgan tears up the track. If you didn'tfeed your hog's any better'n this train runs, old Hayseed, they'd starveto death in a month."
"He ain't jest what you'd call perlite," thought Mr. Klegg, as hemeditatively chewed for a little while longer. "But mebbe that's the wayin the army. Probably Si's got jest that way, too."
He chewed meditatively for a few minutes longer. The air was gettingvery redolent of the fumes from his neighbor's breath. "I hope Si ain'tgot to drinking like that," he sighed, as a particularly strong{167}whiff reached him. "If he has, I won't rest a minute till I've yankedhim up before Gen. Rosecrans and made him take the pledge. Gen.Rosecrans can't afford to have officers around him who drink. 'Tain'tright to trust men's lives to 'em."
"Say, ole Sorrel-top," said the soldier, turning to ward him, "give usanother bite o' that terbaker o' yours, will you?"
Mr. Klegg did not like the tone nor the manner, but he produced histobacco, and began prudently clipping off a fair-sized chew for hiscompanion him self.
"O, the devil, that ain't no chaw," said the other, pulling the tobaccoand knife from his hand. "Don't be stingy with your terbaker, oldHawbuck. You kin git plenty more."
He sliced a strip off clear across the plug, and stuffed it into hismouth.
"You don't chaw terbaker. You jest eat it," remonstrated thelong-suffering Mr. Klegg.
"Here, I'll take some o' that, too," said another soldier on the seat infront, snatching at the knife and tobacco.
"No you won't, you sardine," angrily responded the first soldier. "Thisgentleman's a friend o' mine. I won't see him robbed."
The reply was a blow, and the two were soon mixed up in a savage fight.Mr. Klegg was alarmed, lest one of them should be hurt with the heavy,sharp knife, and he mixed in to get it in his hand. In the scuffle hishat, mittens and comforter were thrown to the floor and trampled in thetobacco juice. The provost-guard rushed in, a stalwart Sergeant{168}separated the combatants, jammed the first soldier down in the seatuntil the timbers cracked, banged the other one's head against the sideof the car, and remarked:
"Confound you, don't either o' you raise a hand or open your mouths, orI'll break both your necks. Old man, you keep mighty quiet, too. Hain'tyou got no sense, to mix up in such a row? You're old enough toknow better. I'll snatch you off this train if you make any moredisturbance."
Mr. Klegg's blood was up. He wanted to thrash the whole crowd, includingthe Sergeant, and felt equal to it. But the cry was raised that thetrain was going. The Sergeant hastened off, with a parting admonition tohim to keep still if he knew what was good for him.
"I'm afeared the army's a mighty rough place," thought Mr. Klegg, as hegathered up his soiled belongings and tried to straighten them out. "Iwonder if it'll git wuss the nearer we git to the front?"
The train pulled out of Louisville, and he became interested in thegreat banks of red earth, crowned with surly, black-mouthed cannon,where the forts were, the rows of white tents in the camps, theinnumerable droves of horses and mules in the corrals, and the longtrains of army wagons.
"I'm goin' to stock up with some horses when I git back," he said tohimself. "The Government seems to need a powerful sight o' them, andprices is goin' up faster'n wheat."
Things had now been tolerably quiet in the car for over half an hour,entirely too long for a party of soldiers returning to the front.Monotonous peace{169} was obnoxious to them. A two-fisted young fellowup toward the front rose up, drained the last drops from a pint flask,dashed the bottle on the floor, and yelled:
"Here's for a quiet life, and peace and good will.{170} I belong to JohnF. Miller's Brigade, the best brigade in the Army of the Cumberland, andthe only one that captured any guns at Stone River. I can lick any manin McCook's Corps."
The answering yell that went up seemed to indicate that nearly all inthe car belonged to McCook's Corps. There was a general peeling off ofovercoats, and a rush forward of answerers to his bold challenge. A fewyelled,
"Hooray for Miller's Brigade!"
"Hooray for Crittenden's Corps!"
"Hooray for Pap Thomas!"
and started in to help out the Miller man. Mr. Klegg rose to his feetin dismay. Before he could think the soldier beside him picked up hiscarpetsack and flung it at the Miller's Brigade man. Mr. Klegg groanedas he thought of the consequences to a jar of honey and a crock ofbutter, which Mrs. Klegg had put in for Si's delectation.
THE FREE FIGHT. 169]
The combatants came together with the hearty zeal of men who had beenlooking for a fight for a straight month. The soldier beside Mr. Kleggsnatched up the umbrella and began laying about him. The crash wasfearful. The backs of the seats were wrenched off, the carpetsacktrodden under foot, the windows broken out, and finally Mr. Klegg foundhimself on the floor of the car under a mass of struggling, fighting,striking and kicking men.
The train came to a halt at a station. The guards on the platform rushedin, and by dint of a vigorous use of gun-butts and other persuasives,and more strong language than Mr. Klegg had ever heard before in all hislife, succeeded in quieting the{171} disturbance and making the men taketheir seats. Mr. Klegg recovered his carpetsack, his comforter, mittens,hat and umbrella, and sat down again. He turned around and glared at thesoldier by his side.
"If it warn't for startin' another fight," he said to himself, "I'dpunch his infernal head."
But the soldier had gone to sleep; he lolled his head over in Mr.Klegg's lap and snored loudly.
For two or three hours afterward the train rattled along withoutparticular incident. Mr. Klegg recovered his composure, and got verymuch interested in the country through which they were passing, and itsfarming possibilities. These did not strike him favorably, and he wasmore than ever convinced that the Wabash Valley was the garden spot ofthe world. Finally, the train stopped and backed on to a switch to allowanother to pass.
An enterprising man had put up a shanty near the track, with a longshelf in front, upon which were displayed sandwiches, pies, boiled eggs,and other eatables. The men all rushed out of the car. Mr. Klegg hadbegun to feel hungry himself, and joined them.
"How much for that pie?" he asked, pointing to one.
"Half-a-dollar," answered the keeper. "Fifty cents for pies, 25 centsfor sandwiches, 10 cents for a cup of coffee."
"Too blamed much," shouted a chorus of voices. "An infernal pirate comedown here to skin the soldiers. Let's clean him out."
Before Mr. Klegg fairly understood the words everything was snatched up.Those who did not get{172} hold of any of the viands began on the shed.It was torn to pieces, the stove kicked over, the coffee spilled on theground, and the eating-house keeper and his assistants scuttled away outof danger. The whistle sounded, they all rushed back into the cars, andMr. Klegg had to stay his hunger with another chew of tobacco.
Again there was tolerable peace for several hours, broken at last by thesudden stoppage of the train out in the country, the sound of shots, andthe yell of "Guerrillas! Guerrillas!"
Everybody bolted out of the cars. Those who had guns buckled on theircartridge-boxes, and formed in line, ready for orders. A squad of rebelcavalry had been trying to tear up the track, but were surprised by theunexpected appearance of the train. They had fallen back to the top ofthe hill, to see how many were aboard, and whether it looked profitableto make an attack. They were keeping up a desultory fire at long range.
Mr Klegg had seen a gun standing in the corner as he ran out. He pickedit up and joined one of the squads. He was no coward, and if there hadto be fighting, he was willing to do his share.
MR. KLEGG READY FOR ACTION. 172]
"Bully for you, old Hayseed," said the man who had wanted to whip anyman in the right wing of the army. "You're made of the right stuff,after all."
Others around him nodded approval, and Mr. Klegg was conscious that thesocial atmosphere was more pleasant for him.
The guerrillas finally decided to give the job up, and rode away,after yelling some 'very uncomplime
ntary things about Yankee soldiersgenerally.
When Mr. Klegg returned to his seat he found his carpetsack, umbrella,mittens, and comforter gone. Likewise the man who had been riding withhim. He waxed very wroth, and lifted up his voice to let them know it.Several around began to guy him, but suddenly the man from Miller'sBrigade forced his way{174} through the crowd and asked:
"What's the matter, 'Squire?"
Mr. Klegg explained.
"Well, you've got to have every one of them things back again, if I'veto lick every man on the train. I'll not see an old man and as good aman as you are mistreated where I am. I've got a father my self."
This time he was in the large majority. All of McCook's men were withhim. A general hunt was instituted through the train, and one by one hispossessions were recovered and brought back to him.
"Thankee, gentlemen; thankee very kindly. Will any o' you gentlemen havea chaw of terbaker? It's all I have to offer you, but it's good."
When the train pulled into Nashville that night a very tired old farmergot off and inquired:
"How much farther is it to Murfreesboro'?"
"About 25 miles," someone answered.
"I'm awful glad to hear it. If it was 30 miles I don't believe I couldstand it."