CHAPTER XI
IN VIRGINIA
Harry left the valley with the keenest feeling of regret, realizing atthe parting how strong a friendship he had formed with this family.But he felt that he could not delay any longer. Affairs must be movingnow in the great world in the east, and he wished to be at the heart ofthem. He had a strong, sure-footed horse, and he had supplies and anextra suit of clothes in his saddle bags. The rifle across his backwould attract no attention, as all the men in the mountains carriedrifles.
Jarvis had instructed Harry carefully about the road or path, and asthe boy was already an experienced traveler with an excellent sense ofdirection, there was no danger of his getting lost in the wilderness.
Jarvis, Ike, and Mrs. Simmons gave him farewells which were full offeeling. Aunt Suse had come down the brick walk, tap-tapping with hercane, as Harry stood at the gate ready to mount his horse.
"Good-bye, Aunt Susan," he said. "I came a stranger, but this house hasbeen made a home to me."
She peered up at him, and Harry saw that once more her old eyes wereflaming with the light he had seen there when he arrived.
"Good-bye, governor," she said, holding out a wrinkled and tremblinghand. "I am proud that our house has sheltered you, but it is not forthe last time. You will come again, and you will be thin and pale andin rags, and you will fall at the door. I see you coming with these twoeyes of mine."
"Hush, Aunt Suse," exclaimed Mrs. Simmons. "It is not Governor Ware,it is his great-grandson, and you mustn't send him away tellin' ofterrible things that will happen to him."
"I'm not afraid," said Harry, "and I hope that I'll see Aunt Susan andall of you again."
He lifted her hand and kissed it in the old-fashioned manner.
She smiled and he heard her murmur:
"It is the great governor's way. He kissed my hand like that oncebefore, when I went to Frankfort on the lumber raft."
"Good-bye, Harry," repeated Jarvis. "If you're bound to fight I reckonthat's jest what you're bound to do, an' it ain't no good for me to sayanythin'. Be shore you follow the trail jest as I laid it out to youan' in two days you'll strike the Wilderness Road. After that it'seasy."
When Harry rode away something rose in his throat and choked him for amoment. He knew that he would never again find more kindly people thanthese simple mountaineers. Then in vivid phrases he heard once more theold woman's prophecy: "You will come again, and you will be thin andpale and in rags, and you will fall at the door." For a moment itshadowed the sunlight. Then he laughed at himself. No one could seeinto the future.
He was now across the valley and his path led along the base of themountain. He looked back and saw the four standing on the porch, Jarvis,Ike, Mrs. Simmons, and old Aunt Suse. He waved his hand to them andall four waved back. A singular thrill ran through him. Could it bepossible that he would come again, and in the manner that the old womanhad predicted?
The path, in another minute, curved around the mountain, and the valleywas shut from view. Nor, as he rode on, did he catch another glimpse ofit. One might roam the mountains for months and never see the home ofSamuel Jarvis.
The two days passed without event. The weather remained fair, and noone interfered with him. He slept the first night at a log cabin thatJarvis had named, having reached it in due time, and the second day hereached, also in due time, the old Wilderness Road.
Thence the boy advanced by easy stages into Virginia until he reached arailroad, where he sold his horse and took a train for Richmond, havingcome in a few days out of the cool, peaceful atmosphere of the mountainsinto another, which was surcharged everywhere with the fiery breath ofwar.
Harry realized as he approached the capital the deep intensity offeeling in everybody. The Virginians were less volatile than the SouthCarolinians, and they had long refused to go out, but now that they wereout they were pouring into the Southern army, and they were animated byan extraordinary zeal. He began to hear new or unfamiliar names, Early,and Ewell, and Jackson, and Lee, and Johnston, and Hill, and Stuart,and Ashby, names that he would never forget, but names that as yet meantlittle to him.
He had letters from his father and he expected to find his friends ofCharleston in Richmond or at the front. General Beauregard, whom heknew, would be in command of the army threatening Washington, and hewould not go into a camp of strangers.
It was now early in June, and the country was at its best. On bothsides of the railway spread the fair Virginia fields, and the earth,save where the ploughed lands stretched, was in its deepest tints ofgreen. Harry, thrusting his head from the window, looked eagerly aheadat the city rising on its hills. Then a shade smaller than Charleston,it, too, was a famous place in the South, and it was full of greatassociations. Harry, like all the educated boys of the South, honoredand admired its public men. They were mighty names to him. He wasabout to tread streets that had been trod by the famous Jefferson,by Madison, Monroe, Randolph of Roanoke, and many others. The shadesof the great Virginians rose in a host before him.
He arrived about noon, and, as he carried no baggage except his saddlebags and weapons, he was quickly within the city, his papers being inperfect order. He ate dinner, as the noonday meal was then called,and decided to seek General Beauregard at once, having learned from anofficer on the train that he was in the city. It was said that he wasat the residence of President Davis, called the White House, after thatother and more famous one at Washington, in which the lank, awkward man,Abraham Lincoln, now lived.
But Harry paused frequently on the way, as there was nothing to hurryhim, and there was much to be seen. If Charleston had been crowded,Richmond was more so. Like all capitals on the verge of a great war,but as yet untouched by its destructive breath, it throbbed with life.The streets swarmed with people, young officers and soldiers in theiruniforms, civilians of all kinds, and many pretty girls in white orlight dresses, often with flowers in their hair or on their breasts.Light-heartedness and gaiety seemed predominant.
Harry stopped a while to look at the ancient and noble state house,now the home also of the Confederate Congress, standing in CapitolSquare, and the spire of the Bell Tower, on Shockoe Hill. He sawimportant looking men coming in or going out of the square, but he didnot linger long, intending to see the sights another time.
He was informed at the "White House" that General Beauregard was there,and sending in his card he was admitted promptly. Beauregard wassitting with President Davis and Secretary Benjamin in a room furnishedplainly, and the general in his quick, nervous manner rose and greetedhim warmly.
"You did good service with us at Charleston," he said, "and we welcomeyou here. We have already heard from your father, who was a comrade inwar of both President Davis and myself."
"He wrote us that you were coming across the mountains from Frankfort,"said Mr. Davis.
Harry thought that the President already looked worn and anxious.
"Yes, sir," replied the boy, "I came chiefly by the river and theWilderness Road."
"Your father writes that they worked hard at Frankfort, but that theyfailed to take Kentucky out," continued the head of the Confederacy.
"The Southern leaders did their best, but they could not move the state."
"And you wish, then, to serve at the front?" continued the President.
"If I may," returned Harry. "In South Carolina I was with ColonelLeonidas Talbot. I have had a letter from him here, and, if it is yourpleasure and that of General Beauregard, I shall be glad to join hiscommand."
General Beauregard laughed a little.
"You do well," he said. "I have known Colonel Talbot a long time, and,although he may be slow in choosing he is bound to be in the very thickof events when he does choose. Colonel Talbot is at the front, andyou'll probably find him closer than any other officer to the Yankeearmy. We need everybody whom we can get, especially lads of spiritand fire like you. You shall be a second lieutenant in his command.A train will leave here in
four hours. Be ready. It will take you partof the way and you will march on for the rest."
Mr. Benjamin did not speak throughout the interview, but he watchedHarry closely. Neither did he speak when he left, but he offered him alimp hand. The boy's view of Richmond was in truth brief, as beforenight he saw its spires and roofs fading behind him. The train waswholly military. There were four coaches filled with officers andtroops, and two more coaches behind them loaded with ammunition.
Harry heard from some of the officers that the army was gathered at aplace called Manassas Junction, where Beauregard had taken command onJune 1st, and to which he would quickly return. But Harry did not knowany of these officers and he felt a little lonely. He slept after awhile in the car seat, awakened at times by the jolting or stopping ofthe train, and arrived some time the next day in a country of greenhills and red clay roads, muddy from heavy rains.
They left the train, marched over the hills along one of the muddy roads,and presently saw a vast array of tents, fires, and earthworks,stretching to the horizon. Harry's heart leaped again. This was thegreat army of the South. Here were regiments and regiments, thousandsand thousands of men and here he would find his friends, Colonel Talbotand Major St. Hilaire, and St. Clair and Langdon.
The whole scene was inspiring in the extreme to the heart of youth.Far to the right he saw cavalry galloping back and forth, and to theleft he saw infantry drilling. From somewhere in front came the strainsof a regimental band playing:
"The hour was sad, I left the maid, A lingering farewell taking, Her sighs and tears my steps delayed, I thought her heart was breaking. In hurried words her name I blessed, I breathed the vows that bind me And to my heart in anguish pressed The girl I left behind me."
It was a favorite air of the Southern bands, and, much as it stirredHarry now, he was destined to hear it again in moments far morethrilling. He presented his order from General Beauregard to a sentinel,who passed him to an officer, who in turn told him to go about a quarterof a mile westward, where he would find the regiment of Colonel Talbotquartered.
"It's a mixed regiment," he said, "made up of Virginians, SouthCarolinians, North Carolinians, and a few Kentuckians and Tennesseeans,but it's already one of the best in the service. Colonel Talbot and hissecond in command, Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire, have been thrashingit into shape in great fashion. They're mostly boys and already theycall themselves 'The Invincibles.' You can see the tents of theircommanding officers over there by that little creek."
Harry's eyes followed the pointing finger, and again his heart leaped.His friends were there, the two colonels for whom he had such a strongaffection, and the two lads of his own age. Theirs looked like a goodcamp, too. It was arranged neatly, and by its side flowed the clear,cool waters of Young's Branch, a tributary of the little Manassas River.He walked briskly, crossed the brook, stepping from stone to stone,and entered the grounds of the Invincibles. A tall youth rushed forward,seized his hand and shook it violently, meanwhile uttering cries ofwelcome in an unbroken stream.
"By all the powers, it's our own Harry!" he exclaimed, "the new Harryof the West, whom we were afraid we should never see again. Everythingis for the best, but we hardly hoped for this! How did you get here,Harry? And you didn't bring Kentucky rushing to our side, after all!Well, I knew it wasn't your fault, old horse! Ho, St. Clair, come andsee who's here!"
St. Clair, who had been lying in the grass behind a tent, appeared andgreeted Harry joyfully. But while Langdon was just the same he hadchanged in appearance. He was thinner and graver, and his intellectualface bore the stamp of rapid maturity.
"It's like greeting one of our very own, Harry," he said. "You werewith us in Charleston at the great beginning. We were afraid you wouldhave to stay in the west."
"The big things will begin here," said Harry.
"There can be no doubt of it. Do you know, Harry, that we are less thanthirty miles from Washington! If there were any hill high enough aroundhere we could see the white dome of the Capitol which we hope to takebefore the summer is over. But we'll take you to the Colonel and MajorHector St. Hilaire, that was, but Lieutenant-Colonel Hector St. Hilairethat is."
Colonel Talbot was sitting at a small table in a tent, the sides ofwhich had been raised all around, leaving only a canvas roof.Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire sat opposite him across the table,and they were studying intently a small map of a region that was soon tobe sown deep with history. They looked up when Harry came with his twofriends, and gave him the welcome that he knew he would always receivefrom them.
"I've had a letter from your father," said Colonel Leonidas Talbot,"and I've been expecting you. You are to be a lieutenant on my staff,and the quartermaster will sell you a new uniform as glossy and fine asthose of which St. Clair and Langdon are so proud."
He asked him a few more questions about Kentucky and his journey overthe mountains, and then, telling St. Clair and Langdon to take care ofhim, he and Lieutenant-Colonel St. Hilaire went back to the study oftheir map. Harry noted that both were tanned deeply and that theirfaces were very serious.
"Come along, Harry," said Langdon. "Let the colonel and the major bearall the troubles. For us everything is for the best. We've got you onour hands and we're going to treat you right. See that deep pool in thebrook, where the big oak throws its shade over the water? It's partlynatural and it's partly dammed, but it's our swimming hole. You arecovered with dust and dirt. Pull off your clothes and jump in there.We'll protect you from ribald attention. There are other swimming holesalong here, but this swimming hole belongs to the Invincibles, and wealways make good our rights."
Harry was more than willing. In three minutes he jumped into the deep,cool water, swimming, diving, and shaking himself like a big dog.He had enjoyed no such luxury in many days, and he felt as if he werebeing re-created. Langdon and St. Clair sat on the bank and gave himinstructions.
"Now jump out," Langdon said at the end of five minutes. "You needn'tthink because you've just come and are in a way a guest, that you cankeep this swimming hole all to yourself. A lot more of the Invinciblesneed bathing and here come some for their chance."
Harry came out reluctantly, and in a few minutes they were on the wayto the quartermaster, where the needed uniform, one that appealedgloriously to his eye, was bought. St. Clair was quiet, but Langdontalked enough for all three.
"The Yankee vanguard is only a few miles away," he said. "You don'thave to go far before you see their tents, though I ought to say thateach side has another army westward in the mountains. There's been alot of fighting already, though not much of it here. The first shots onVirginia soil were fired on our front the day General Beauregard arrivedto take command of our forces."
"How about those troops in the hills?" asked Harry.
"They've been up and doing. A young Yankee general named McClellan hasshown a lot of activity. He has beat us in some skirmishes and he hasorganized troops as far west as the Ohio. Then he and his generals metour general, Garnett, at Rich Mountain. It was the biggest affair ofthe war so far, and Garnett was killed. Then a curious fellow of oursnamed Jackson, and Stuart, a cavalry officer, lost a little battle at aplace called Falling Waters."
"Has the luck been against us all along the line?"
"Not at all! A cock-eyed Massachusetts politician, one Ben Butler,a fellow of energy though, broke into the Yorktown country, but Magruderthrashed him at Big Bethel. All those things, though, Harry, are justwhiffs of rain before the big storm. We're threatening Washingtonhere with our main army, and here is where they will have to meet us.Lincoln has put General Scott, a Virginian, too, in command of theNorthern armies, but as he's so old, somebody else will be the realcommander."
Harry felt himself a genuine soldier in his new uniform, and he soonlearned his new duties, which, for the present, would not be many.The two armies, although practically face to face, refused to move.On either side the officers of the
old regular force were seeking tobeat the raw recruits into shape, and the rival commanders also waited,each for the other to make the first movement.
Harry and St. Clair were sent that night far toward the front with asmall detachment to patrol some hill country. They marched in themoonlight, keeping among the trees, and listening for any sounds thatmight be hostile.
"It's not likely though that we'll be molested," said St. Clair."The men on both sides don't yet realize fully that they are here toshoot at one another. This is our place, along a little brook, anothertributary of the Manassas."
They stopped in a grove and disposed the men, twenty in number, alonga line of several hundred yards, with instructions not to fire unlessthey knew positively what they were shooting at. Harry and St. Clairremained near the middle of the line, at the edge of the brook, wherethey sat down on the bank. The country was open in front of them,and Harry saw a distant light.
"What's that?" he asked.
"The campfire of a Yankee outpost. I told you they were very near."
"And that, I suppose, is one of their bugles."
A faint but musical note was brought to them by the light wind blowingin their faces.
"That's what it is. It may be the signal of some movement, but theycan't attempt anything serious without showing themselves. Oursentinels are posted along here for miles."
The sound of the bugle continued faint and far away. It had a certainweird effect in the night and the loneliness. Harry wished to know whothey were at that far campfire. His own cousin, Dick Mason, might bethere.
"Although we're arrayed for war," said St. Clair, "the sentinels areoften friendly. They even exchange plugs of tobacco and news. Theofficers have not been able to stop it wholly. Our sentinels telltheirs that we'll be in Washington in a month, and theirs tell oursthat they've already engaged rooms in the Richmond hotels for July."
"When two prophets disagree both can't be right," said Harry. "How faraway would you say that light is, Arthur?"
"About a mile and a half. Let's scout a little in that direction.There are no commands against it. Enterprise is encouraged."
"Just what I'd like," said Harry, who was eager for action.
Leaving their own men under the command of a reliable sergeant namedCarrick, the two youths crossed the brook and advanced over a fairlylevel stretch of country toward the fire. Small clusters of trees werescattered here and there, and beyond them was a field of young corn.The two paused in one of the little groves about a hundred yards fromtheir own outposts and looked back. They saw only the dark line ofthe trees, and behind them, wavering lights which they knew were thecampfires of their own army. But the lights at the distance were verysmall, mere pin points.
"They look more like lanterns carried by 'coon and 'possum hunters thanthe campfires of an army," said Harry.
"Yes, you'd hardly think they mark the presence of twenty or thirtythousand men," said St. Clair. "Here we are at the cornfield. Theplants are not high, but they throw enough shadow to hide us."
They climbed a rail fence, and advanced down the corn rows. The moonwas good and there was a plentiful supply of stars, enabling them to seesome distance. To their right on a hill was a white Colonial house,with all its windows dark.
"That house would be in a bad place if a battle comes off here, as seemslikely," said St. Clair.
"And those who own it are wise in having gone away," said Harry.
"I'm not so sure that they've gone. People hate to give up their homeseven in the face of death. Around here they generally stay and put outthe lights at dark."
"Well, here we are at the end of the cornfield, and the light is notmore than four or five hundred yards away. I think I can see theshadows of human figures against the flames. Come, let's climb thefence and go down through this skirt of bushes."
The suggestion appealed to the daring and curiosity of both, and in afew minutes they were within two hundred yards of the Northern camp.But they lay very close in the undergrowth. They saw a big fire andHarry judged that four or five hundred men were scattered about.Many were asleep on the grass, but others sat up talking. Theappearance of all was so extraordinary that Harry gazed in astonishment.
It was not the faces or forms of the men, but their dress that was sopeculiar. They were arrayed in huge blouses and vast baggy trousersof a blazing red, fastened at the knee and revealing stockings of abrilliant hue below. Little tasselled caps were perched on the sides oftheir heads. Harry remembering his geography and the descriptions ofnations would have taken them for a gathering of Turkish women, if theirmasculine faces had been hidden.
"What under the moon are those?" he whispered. "They do look curious,"replied St. Clair. "They call them Zouaves, and I think they're fromNew York. It's a copy of a French military costume which, unless I'mmistaken, France uses in Algeria."
"They'd certainly make a magnificent target on the battlefield. AKentucky or Tennessee rifleman who'd miss such a target would die ofshame."
"Maybe. But listen, they're singing! What do you think of that for amilitary tune?"
Harry heard for the first time in his life an extraordinary, choppy air,a rapid beat that rose and fell abruptly, sending a powerful thrillthrough his heart as he lay there in the bushes. The words were nothing,almost without meaning, but the tune itself was full of compellingpower. It set the feet marching toward triumphant battle.
"In Dixie's land I'll take my stand, Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom, Look away! Look away! Down South in Dixie!"
Three or four hundred voices took up the famous battle song, asthrilling and martial as the Marseillaise, then fresh and unhackneyed,and they sang it with enthusiasm and fire, officers joining with themen. It was a singular fact that Harry should first hear Northerntroops singing the song which was destined to become the great battletune of the South.
"What is it?" whispered Harry.
"It's called Dixie. They say it was written by a man in New York for anegro minstrel show. I suppose they sing it in anticipation, meaningthat they will soon be in the heart of Dixie, which is the South,our South."
"I don't think those baggy red legs will ever march far into our South,"whispered Harry defiantly.
"It is to be seen. Between you and me, Harry, I'm convinced there is notriumphant progress ahead for either North or South. Ah, another forceis coming and it's cavalry! Don't you hear the hoof-beats, Harry?"
Harry heard them distinctly and he and his comrade lay more closely thanever in the bushes, because the horsemen, a numerous body, as the heavytread indicated, were passing very near. The two lads presently sawthem riding four abreast toward the campfire, and Harry surmised thatthey had been scouting in strong force toward the Southern front.They were large men, deep with tan and riding easily. Harry judgedtheir number at two hundred, and the tail of the company would passalarmingly near the bushes in which his comrade and he lay.
"Don't you think we'd better creep back?" he whispered to St. Clair."Some of them taking a short cut may ride right upon us."
"Yes, it's time to make ourselves scarce."
They turned back, going as rapidly as they dared, but that which Harryhad feared came to pass. The rear files of the horsemen, evidentlyintending to go to the other side of the camp, rode through the lowbushes. Four of them passed so near the boys that they caught in themoonlight a glimpse of the two stooping figures.
"Who is there? Halt!" sharply cried one of them, an officer.But St. Clair cried also:
"Run, Harry! Run for your life, and keep to the bushes!"
The two dashed at utmost speed down the strip of bushes and they heardthe thunder of horses' hoofs in the open on either flank. A half dozenshots were fired and the bullets cut leaves and twigs about them.They heard the Northern men shouting: "Spies! Spies! After them!Seize them!"
Harry in the moment of extreme danger retained his presence of mind: "Tothe cornfield, Arthur!" he cried to his comrade. "The fen
ce is stakedand ridered, and their horses can't jump it. If they stop to pull itdown they will give us time to get away!"
"Good plan!" returned St. Clair. "But we'd better bend down as we run.Those bullets make my flesh creep!"
A fresh volley was sent into the bushes, but owing to the wiseprecaution of bending low, the bullets went over their heads, althoughHarry felt his hair rising up to meet them. In two or three minutesthey were at the fence, and they went over it almost like birds.Harry heard two bullets hit the rails as they leaped--they were inview then for a moment--but they merely increased his speed, as he andSt. Clair darted side by side through the corn, bending low again.
They heard the horsemen talking and swearing at the barrier, and thenthey heard the beat of hoofs again.
"They'll divide and send a force around the field each way!" saidSt. Clair.
"And some of them will dismount and pursue us through it on foot!"
"We can distance anybody on foot. Harry, when I heard those bulletswhistling about me I felt as if I could outrun a horse, or a giraffe,or an antelope, or anything on earth! And thunder, Harry, I feel thesame way now!"
Bullets fired from the fence made the ploughed land fly not far fromthem, and they lengthened their stride. Harry afterward said thathe did not remember stepping on that cornfield more than twice.Fortunately for them the field, while not very wide, extended far toright and left, and the pursuing horsemen were compelled to make agreat circuit.
Before the thudding hoofs came near they were over the fence again, and,still with wonderful powers of flight, were scudding across the countrytoward their own lines. They came to one of the clusters of trees anddashing into it lay close, their hearts pounding. Looking back theydimly saw the horsemen, riding at random, evidently at a loss.
"That was certainly close," gasped St. Clair. "I'm not going on anymore scouts unless I'm ordered to do so."
"Nor I," said Harry. "I've got enough for one night at least. Isuppose I'll never forget those men with the red bags in place ofbreeches, and that tune, 'Dixie.' As soon as I get my breath back I'mgoing to make a bee line for our own army."
"And when you make your bee line another just as fast and straight willrun beside it."
They rested five minutes and then fled for the brook and their ownlittle detachment behind it.