CHAPTER XXI
STEVEN DAGG
Steven Dagg, waked by the shrill reveille, groaned, raised himself fromhis dew-drenched couch, ran his fingers through his hair, kneaded neck,arms, and ankles, and groaned more heavily yet. He was dreadfully stiffand sore. In five days the "foot cavalry" had marched more than eightymiles. Yesterday the brigade had been afoot from dawn till dark. "Andwe didn't have the fun of the battle neither," remarked Steve, in asavagely injured tone. "Leastwise none of us but the damned threecompanies and a platoon of ours that went ahead to skirmish 'cause theyknew the type of country! Don't I know the type of country, too? Yah!"
The man nearest him, combing his beard with ostentation, burst into alaugh. "Did you hear that, fellows? Steve's grumbling because he wasn'tlet to do it all! Poor Steve! poor Hotspur! poor Pistol!" He bent,chuckling, over the pool that served him for mirror. "You stop callingme dirty names!" growled Steve, and, his toilet ended well-nigh beforebegun, slouched across to fire and breakfast. The former was large, thelatter small. Jackson's ammunition wagons, double-teamed, were up withthe army, but all others back somewhere east of Front Royal.
Breakfast was soon over--"sorry breakfast!" The _assembly_ sounded, thecolumn was formed, Winder made his brigade a short speech. Stevelistened with growing indignation. "General Banks, falling back fromStrasburg, is trying to get off clear to Winchester. ('Well, let him! Idon't give a damn!') We want to intercept him at Middletown. ('Oh, dowe?') We want to get there before the head of his column appears, andthen to turn and strike him full. ('O Lord! I ain't a rattler!') We wantto beat him in the middle Valley--never let him get to Winchester atall! ('I ain't objecting, if you'll give the other brigades a show andlet them do it!') It's only ten miles to Middletown. ('Only!') A forcedmarch needed. ('O Gawd!') Ashby and Chew's Battery and a section of theRockbridge and the skirmishers and Wheat's Tigers are ahead. ('Well, ifthey're so brash, let them wipe out Banks and welcome! And if one damnedofficer that's ahead gits killed, I won't mourn him.') Ewell withTrimble's Brigade and the First Maryland, Courtenay and Brockenboroughare off, making as the bird flies for Winchester! ('We ain't birds.We're men, and awful tired men, too.') Steuart with the 2d and 6thcavalry are already at Newtown. ('What in hell do I care if they air?')Campbell and Taliaferro and Elzey and Scott and the Stonewall and thebalance of the guns form the main column, and at Middletown we're goingto turn and meet Banks. ('Gawd! more fighting, on an empty stomach, anddog-tired!') General Jackson says, '_Men, we're going to rid the Valleyof Virginia of the enemy. Press on._' You know what an avalanche is.('Knowed it before you was born. It's a place where you hide till theman you hate worse than pison oak comes by!') Let the Stonewall nowturn avalanche; fall on Banks at Middletown and grind him small!--_Foursright! Forward! March!_ ('Oh, Gawd! my cut foot! It's my lasting hopethat--sh!--Fool Tom Jackson'll break you same as he broke Garnett')."
The morning, at first divinely cool and sweet, turned hot and languid,humid and without air. It made the perspiration stream, and then thedust rose from the road, and the two together caused the mostdiscomfortable grime! It marked all faces, and it lodged between neckand neckband and wrist and wristband where it chafed the skin. It gotdeep into the shoes--through holes enough, God knows!--and there thematter became serious, for many a foot was galled and raw. It got intoeyes and they grew red and smarting. It stopped ear and nostril. Itlined the mouth; it sifted down the neck and made the body miserable. Atthe starting, as the men quit the green banks of Shenandoah, several ofthe aesthetic sort had been heard to comment upon the beauty of thescenery. Possibly the soul for beauty lasted, but as for the scenery, itvanished. The brigade was now upon the Front Royal and Winchester pike,moving in the foot and wheel prints of the advance, and under andthrough an extended cirrhus cloud of dirty saffron. The scenery couldnot be viewed through it--mere red blotches and blurs. It was so heavythat it served for darkness. Men saw each other dimly at the distance often feet, and mounted officers and couriers went by, dun and shapeless,through the thick powder.
Steve could not be said to mind grime (Sergeant Mathew Coffin did; hewas forever wiping it away with what remained to him of a handkerchief),but the stuff in his shoes made his feet hurt horribly. It was in hismouth besides, where it made him thirsty. He eyed an object danglingfrom the belt of the man next him, and since from long habit it hadbecome easy to him to break the tenth commandment he broke itagain--into a thousand pieces. At last, "Where did you get thatcanteen?"
"Picked it up at McDowell. Ef 't warn't covered with dust you could seethe U. S."
"Empty, I reckon?"
"Nop. Buttermilk."
"O Gawd! I could drink Thunder Run dry!"
"Sorry. Reckon we'll come to a stream bimeby. Saving the milk 'gainst anemergency."
It did not appear that we would come to a stream, or a spring, or awell, or anything liquid--to anything but awful miles of dust and heat,trudged over by anything but three-leagued boots. Despite the spur ofWinder's speech the brigade moved with dispiriting slowness. It was notthe first in column; there were troops ahead and troops behind, and itwould perhaps have said that it was not its part to overpass the one andoutstrip the other. The whole line lagged. "Close up, men! close up!"cried the officers, through dust-lined throats. "If it's as hot asginger, then let the ginger show! Step out!" Back from the head of thecolumn came peremptory aides. "Press on! General Jackson says, 'Presson!'--Yes; he knows you marched twenty-six miles yesterday, and thatit's hot weather! All the same we've got to get there!--Thank you,colonel, I will take a swallow! I'm damned tired myself."
Between nine and ten they came to a village. Boys and women stood in thedusty street with buckets of water--a few buckets, a little water. Thewomen looked pale, as though they would swoon; beads of sweat stood onthe boys' brows and their lips worked. Thousands of soldiers had passedor were passing; all thirsty, all crying, "Water, please! water,please!" Women and boys had with haste drawn bucket after bucket fromthe wells of the place, pumped them full from a cistern, or run to anear-by spring and come panting back to the road--and not one soldier inten could get his tin cup filled! They went by, an endless line, a fewrefreshed, the vast majority thirstier for the Tantalus failure. Thewater bearers were more deadly tired than they; after it was all over,the last regiment passed, the women went indoors trembling in everylimb. "O Jesus! this war is going to be a dreadful thing!" The columnmarching on and passing a signpost, each unit read what it had to say."_Seven miles to Middletown._--Seven miles to hell!"
Some time later, the brigade made a discovery. "They are willows--yes,they are!--running cross field, through the blur! Whoever's toting thewater bucket, get it ready!"
The halt came--Jackson's ten minutes out of an hour "lie-down-men.You-rest-all-over-lying-down" halt. The water buckets were ready, andthere were the willows that the dust had made as sere as autumn,--butwhere was the stream? The thin trickle of water had been overpassed,churned, trampled into mire and dirt, by half the army, horse and foot.The men stared in blank disappointment. "A polecat couldn't drink here!""Try it up and down," said the colonel. "It will be clearer away fromthe road. But every one of you listen for the _Fall-In_."
Steve wandered off. He did not wait for clean water. There was a puddle,not half so bad as thirst! Settling down upon his hands, he leanedforward and well-nigh drank it up. Refreshed, he rose, got out of themire back to the bank, and considered a deeper belt of willows fartherdown the stream. They were on the edge of the dust belt, they had an airfaintly green, extremely restful. Steve looked over his shoulder. Allthe boys were drinking, or seeking a place to drink, and the dust waslike a red twilight! Furtively swift as any Thunder Run "crittur," hemade for the willows. They formed a deep little copse; nobody withintheir round and, oh joy! shade and a little miry pool! Steve sat downand drew off his shoes, taking some pains lest in the action side andsole part company. Undoubtedly his feet were sore and swollen, red andfevered. He drank from the miry pool, and then, trousers rolled to hisknees, sunk foot and
ankle in the delicious coolness. Presently he layback, feet yet in mud and water, body flat upon cool black earth,overhead a thick screen of willow leaves. "Ef I had a corn pone andnever had to move I wouldn't change for heaven. O Gawd! that damnedbugle!"
_Fall in! Fall in!--Fall in! Fall in!_ With a deep groan Steve picked uphis shoes and dragged himself to the edge of the copse. He looked out."Danged fools! running back to line like chicks when the hen squawks'Hawk!' O Gawd! my foot's too sore to run." He stood looking cautiouslyout of an opening he had made in the willow branches. The regiments werealready in column, the leading one, the 4th, formed and disappearing inthe dust of the turnpike. "Air ye going now and have every damnedofficer swearing at you? What do they care if your foot's cut and yourback aches? and you couldn't come no sooner. _I ain't a-going._" Steve'seyes filled with tears. He felt sublimely virtuous; a martyr from thefirst. "What does anybody there care for _me_! They wouldn't care if Idropped dead right in line. Well, I ain't a-going to gratify them!What's war, anyhow? It's a trap to catch decent folk in! and thedecenter you are the quicker you try to get out of it!" He closed thewillow branches and stepped back to his lair. "Let 'em bellow for Stevejust as loud as they like! I ain't got no call to fight Banks on thishere foot. If a damned provost-guard comes along, why I just fell asleepand couldn't help it."
So tired was he, and so soothing still his retreat, that to fall asleepwas precisely what he did. The sun was twenty minutes nearer the zenithwhen noise roused him--voices up and down the stream. He crawled acrossthe black earth and looked out. "Taliaferro's Brigade getting watered!All I ask is you'll just let me and my willows alone."
He might ask, but Taliaferro's seemed hardly likely to grant.Taliaferro's had a harder time even than the Stonewall finding water.There was less there to find and it was muddier. The men, swearing attheir luck, ranged up and down the stream. It was presently evident thatthe search might bring any number around or through Steve's coolharbour. He cursed them, then, in a sudden panic, picked up his shoesand slipped out at the copse's back door. Able-bodied stragglers, whencaught, were liable to be carried on and summarily deposited with theirrightful companies. Deserters fared worse. On the whole, Steve concludedto seek safety in flight. At a little distance rose a belt of woodsroughly parallel with the road. Steve took to the woods, and foundsanctuary behind the bole of an oak. His eye advanced just beyond thebark, he observed the movement of troops with something like a grin. Onthe whole he thought, perhaps, he wouldn't rejoin. Taliaferro's menhardly seemed happy, up and down the trodden, miry runlet. "Wuz a timethey wouldn't think a dog could drink there, and now just look at themlapping it up! So many fine, stuck-up fellows, too--gentlemen andsuch.--Yah!"
The brigade moved on as had done the Stonewall. There grew in the wood asound. "What's that?" Scrambling up, he went forward between the treesand presently came full upon a narrow wood road, with a thin growth offorest upon the other side. The sound increased. Steve knew it well. Hestamped upon the moss with the foot that hurt him least. "Artillerycoming!--and all them damned gunners with eyes like lynxes--"
He crossed the road and the farther strip of woods. Behind him theapproaching wheels rumbled loudly; before him a narrow lane stretchedthrough a ploughed field, to a grassy dooryard and a small house. On theedge of the wood was a mass of elderbush just coming into bloom. Heworked his way into the centre of this, squatted down and regarded thehouse from between the green stems. Smoke rose from the chimney. "Itmust be near eleven o'clock," thought Steve. "She's getting dinner."
Behind him, through the wood, on toward Middletown rumbled the passingbattery. The heavy sound brought a young woman to the door. She stoodlooking out, her hands shading her eyes; then, the train disappearing,went back to her work. Steve waited until the sound was almost dead,then left the elder, went up the lane and made his appearance before theopen door. The woman turned from the hearth where she was baking bread."Good-morning, sir."
"Morning, miss," said Steve. "Could you spare a poor sick soldier a biteto eat?"
He ended with a hollow groan and the weight of his body against thelintel. The young woman dragged forward a split-bottomed armchair. "Sitright down there! Of course I'll give you something to eat. It ain'tanything catching, is it?"
Steve sank into the chair. "It was pneumonia, and my strength ain't comeback yet."
"I only asked because I have to think of my baby." She glanced toward acradle by the window. "Pneumonia is dreadful weakening! How come theylet you march?"
"Why, I didn't," said Steve, "want to be left behind. I wanted to be inthe fight with the rest of the boys. So the captain said, says he,'Well, you can try it, for we need all the good fighters we've got, butif you find you're too weak to go on, fall out! Maybe some good Seraphimwill give you 'commodation--'"
"I can't give you 'commodation, because there's just the baby andmyself, James being with Ashby. But I can give you dinner (I haven't gotmuch, but what I've got you're quite welcome to). You kin rest here tillevening. Maybe a wagon'll come along and give you a lift, so's you canget there in time--"
"Get where, ma'am?"
"Why, wherever the battle's going to be!"
"Yaas, yaas," said Steve. "It's surely hard lines when those who kinfight have to take a back seat 'cause of illness and watch the otherkind go front!" He groaned again and closed his eyes. "I don't supposeyou've got a drop of spirits handy?"
The woman--she was hardly more than a girl--hesitated. Because the mostwere heroic, and for the sake of that most, all Confederate soldierswore the garland. It was not in this or any year of the war thatConfederate women lightly doubted the entire heroism of the least ofindividuals, so that he wore the grey. It was to them, most nobly, mostpathetically, a sacred investiture. Priest without but brute within,wolf in shepherd's clothing, were to them not more unlooked-for norabhorrent than were coward, traitor, or shirk enwrapped in the pall andpurple of the grey. Fine lines came into the forehead of the girlstanding between Steve and the hearth. She remembered suddenly thatJames had said there were plenty of scamps in the army and that notevery straggler was lame or ill. Some were plain deserters.
"I haven't got any spirits," she answered. "I did have a little bottlebut I gave it to a sick neighbour. Anyhow, it isn't good for weaklungs."
Steve looked at her with cunning eyes. "You didn't give it all away," hethought. "You've got a little hid somewhere. O Gawd! I want a drink sobad!"
"I was making potato soup for myself," said the girl, "and my fathersent me half a barrel of flour from Harrisonburg and I was baking asmall loaf of bread for to-morrow. It's Sunday. It's done now, and I'llslice it for you and give you a plate of soup. That's better for youthan--. Where do you think we'll fight to-day?"
"Where?--Oh, anywhere the damned fools strike each other." He stumbledto the table which she was spreading. She glanced at him. "There's abasin and a roller towel on the back porch and the pump's handy.Wouldn't you like to wash your face and hands?"
Steve shook his tousled head. "Naw, I'm so burned the skin would comeoff. O Gawd! this soup is good."
"People getting over fevers and lung troubles don't usually burn. Theystay white and peaked even out of doors in July."
"I reckon I ain't that kind. I'll take another plateful. Gawd, what apretty arm you've got!"
The girl ladled out for him the last spoonful of soup, then went andstood with her foot upon the cradle rocker. "I reckon you ain't thatkind," she said beneath her breath. "If you ever had pneumonia I bet itwas before the war!"
Steve finished his dinner, leaned back in his chair and stretchedhimself. "Gawd! if I just had a nip. Look here, ma'am! I don't believeyou gave all that apple brandy away. S'pose you look and see if youwasn't mistaken."
"There isn't any."
"You've got too pretty a mouth to be lying that-a-way! Look-a-here, thedoctor prescribed it."
"You've had dinner and you've rested. There's a wood road over therethat cuts off a deal of distance to Middletown. It's rough but it'sshady. I be
lieve if you tried you could get to Middletown almost as soonas the army."
"Didn't I tell you I had a furlough? Where'd you keep that peach brandywhen you had it?"
"I'm looking for James home any minute now. He's patrolling between hereand the pike."
"You're lying. You said he was with Ashby, and Ashby's away north toNewtown--the damned West P'inter that marches at the head of the brigadesaid so! You haven't got the truth in you, and that's a pity, forotherwise I like your looks first-rate." He rose. "I'm going foragingfor that mountain dew--"
The girl moved toward the door, pushing the cradle in front of her.Steve stepped between, slammed the door and locked it, putting the keyin his pocket. "Now you jest stay still where you are or it'll be theworse for you and for the baby, too! Don't be figuring on the window orthe back door, 'cause I've got eyes in the side of my head and I'llcatch you before you get there! That thar cupboard looks promising."
The cupboard not only promised; it fulfilled. Steve's groping handclosed upon and drew forth a small old Revolutionary brandy bottle quitefull. Over his shoulder he shot a final look at once precautionary andtriumphant. "You purty liar! jest you wait till I've had my dram!" Anold lustre mug stood upon the shelf. He filled this almost to the brim,then lifted it from the board. There was a sound from by the door,familiar enough to Steve--namely, the cocking of a trigger. "You putthat mug down," said the voice of his hostess, "or I'll put a bulletthrough you! Shut that cupboard door. Go and sit down in that chair!"
"'Tain't loaded! I drew the cartridge."
"You don't remember whether you did or not! And you aren't willing forme to try and find out! You set down there! That's it; right there whereI can see you! My grandmother's birthday mug! Yes, and she saw hermother kill an Indian right here, right where the old log cabin used tostand! Well, I reckon I can manage a dirty, sneaking hound like you.Grandmother's cup indeed, that I don't even let James drink out of! I'llhave to scrub it with brick dust to get your finger marks off--"
"Won't you please put that gun down, ma'am, and listen to reason?"
"I'm listening to something else. There's three or four horses comingdown the road--"
"Please put that gun down, ma'am. I'll say good-bye and go just aspeaceable--"
"And whether they're blue or grey I hope to God they'll take you off myhands! There! They've turned up the lane. They're coming by the house!"
She raised a strong young voice. "Help! Help! Stop, please! O soldiers!Soldiers! Help! Soldiers! There! I've made them hear and waked thebaby!"
"Won't you let me go, ma'am? I didn't mean no harm."
"No more did the Indian great-grandmother killed when he broke in thedoor! You're a coward and a deserter, and the South don't need you! Bye,bye, baby--bye, bye!"
A hand tried the door. "What's the matter here? Open!"
"It's locked, sir. Come round to the window--Bye, baby, bye!"
The dismounted cavalryman--an officer--appeared outside the openwindow. His eyes rested a moment upon the interior; then he put handsupon the sill and swung himself up and into the room.
"What's all this? Has this soldier annoyed you, madam?"
The girl set down the musket and took up the baby. "I'm downright gladsomebody came, sir. He's a coward and a deserter and a drunkard and afrightener of women! He says he's had pneumonia, and I don't believehim. If I was the South I'd send every man like him right across Masonand Dixon as fast as they'd take them!--I reckon he's my prisoner, sir,and I give him up to you."
The officer smiled. "I'm not the provost, but I'll rid you of himsomehow." He wiped the dust from his face. "Have you anything at allthat we could eat? My men and I have had nothing since midnight."
"That coward's eaten all I had, sir. I'm sorry--If you could wait alittle, I've some flour and I'll make a pan of biscuits--"
"No. We cannot wait. We must be up with the army before it strikes theValley pike."
"I've got some cold potatoes, and some scraps of bread crust I wassaving for the chickens--"
"Then won't you take both to the four men out there? Hungry soldiers_like_ cold potatoes and bread crusts. I'll see to this fellow.--Now,sir, what have you got to say for yourself?"
"Major, my feet are so sore, and I was kind of light-headed! First thingI knew, I just somehow got separated from the brigade--"
"We'll try to find it again for you. What were you doing here?"
"Major, I just asked her for a little licker. And, being light-headed,maybe I happened to say something or other that she took up notionsabout. The first thing I knew--and I just as innocent as her baby--sheup and turned my own musket against me--"
"Who locked the door?"
"Why--why--"
"Take the key out of your pocket and go open it. Faugh!--What's yourbrigade?"
"The Stonewall, sir."
"Humph! They'd better stone you out of it. Regiment?"
"65th, sir. Company A.--If you'd be so good just to look at my foot,sir, you'd see for yourself that I couldn't march--"
"We'll try it with the Rogue's March.--65th. Company A. Richard Cleave'sold company."
"He ain't my best witness, sir. He's got a grudge against me--"
Stafford looked at him. "Don't put yourself in a fury over it. Have youone against him?"
"I have," said Steve, "and I don't care who knows it! If he was assteady against you, sir, as he has proved himself against me--"
"I would do much, you mean. What is your name?"
"Steven Dagg."
The woman returned. "They've eaten it all, sir. I saved you a piece ofbread. I wish it was something better."
Stafford took it from her with thanks. "As for this man, my orderlyshall take him up behind, and when we reach Middletown I'll turn himover with my report to his captain. If any more of his kind come around,I would advise you just to shoot them at once.--Now you, sir! In frontof me.--March!"
The five horsemen, detail of Flournoy's, sent upon some service thenight before, mounted a hill from which was visible a great stretch ofcountry. From the east came the Front Royal road; north and southstretched that great artery, the Valley turnpike. Dust lay over theFront Royal road. Dust hung above the Valley pike--hung from Strasburgto Middletown, and well beyond Middletown. Out of each extended cloud,now at right angles, came rumblings as of thunder. The column beneaththe Front Royal cloud was moving rapidly, halts and delays apparentlyover, lassitude gone, energy raised to a forward blowing flame. That onthe Valley pike, the six-mile-long retreat from Strasburg, was making,too, a progress not unrapid, considering the immensity of its wagontrain and the uncertainty of the commanding general as to what, on thewhole, it might be best to do. The Confederate advance, it was evident,would strike the pike at Middletown in less than fifteen minutes.
Stafford and his men left the hill, entered a body of woods runningtoward the village, and three minutes later encountered a detachment ofblue horsemen, flankers of Hatch's large cavalry force convoying theFederal wagon train. There was a shout, and an interchange of pistolshots. The blue outnumbered the grey four to one. The latter wheeledtheir horses, used spur and voice, outstripped a shower of bullets andreached Middletown. When, breathless, they drew rein before a streetdown which grey infantry poured to the onslaught, one of the men,pressing up to Stafford, made his report. "That damned deserter,sir!--in the scrimmage a moment ago he must have slipped off. I'msorry--but I don't reckon he's much loss."
Steve had taken refuge behind the lock of a rail fence draped withcreeper. On the whole, he meant to stay there until the two armies hadwended their ways. When it was all done and over, he would make a changesomehow and creep to the southward and get a doctor's certificate. Allthis in the first gasp of relief, at the end of which moment it becameapparent that the blue cavalry had seen him run to cover. A couple oftroopers rode toward the rail fence. Steve stepped from behind thecreepers and surrendered. "Thar are Daggs up North anyway," he explainedto the man who took his musket. "I've a pack of third cousins in themparts somewh
ere. I shouldn't wonder if they weren't fighting on yourside this dog-goned minute! I reckon I'd as lief fight there myself."
The soldier took him to his officer. "It's a damned deserter, sir. Sayshe's got cousins with us. Says he'd as soon fight on one side as theother."
"I can't very well fight nowhere," whined Steve. "If you'd be so good asto look at my foot, sir--"
"I see. You deserted and they picked you up. Very well, Mr. Deserter, Iwant some information and you're the man to give it to me."
Steve gave it without undue reluctance. "What in hell does it matter,anyway?" he thought, "they'll find out damned quick anyhow about numbersand that we aren't only Ewell. Gawd! Old Jack's struck them this veryminute! I hear the guns."
So did the company to which he had deserted. "Hell and damnation!Artillery to shake the earth! Middletown. All the wagons to pass and thecavalry.--It isn't just Ewell's division, he says. He says it's all ofthem and Stonewall Jackson!--Take the fellow up somebody and bring himalong!--_Fours right! Forward!_"
Five minutes later they reached the pike, south of Middletown. It proveda seething stream of horse and foot and wagon train, forms shadowy andumber, moving in the whirling dust. Over all hung like a vast and blackstreamer a sense of panic. Underneath it every horse was restive andevery voice had an edge. Steve gathered that there were teamsters whowished to turn and go back to Strasburg. He saw wagon masters plyinglong black whips about the shoulders of these unwilling; he heardofficers shouting. The guns ahead boomed out, and there came a cry of"Ashby"! The next instant found him violently unseated and hurled intothe dust of the middle road, from which he escaped by rolling with allthe velocity of which he was capable into the depression at the side. Hehardly knew what had happened--there had been, he thought, a runawayteam dragging an ordnance wagon. He seemed to remember a movingthickness in the all-pervading dust, and, visible for an instant, agreat U. S. painted on the wagon side. Then shouts, generalscatteration, some kind of a crash--He rubbed a bump upon his forehead,large as a guinea hen's egg. "Gawd! I wish I'd never come into this hereworld!"
The world was, indeed, to-day rather like a bad dream--like one of thosedim and tangled streams of things, strange and frightful, at oncegrotesquely unfamiliar and sickeningly real, which one neighbours for atime in sleep. Steve picked himself out of the ditch, being much indanger, even there, of trampling hoofs or wagons gone amuck, andattained, how he could not tell, a rank wayside clump of Jamestown weedand pokeberry. In the midst of this he squatted, gathered into as smalla bunch as was physically possible. He was in a panic; the sweat coldupon the back of his hands. Action or inaction in this world, sitting,standing, or going seemed alike ugly and dangerous.
First of all, this world was blue-clad and he was dressed in grey. Itwas in a wild hurry; the main stream striving somehow to gainMiddletown, which must be passed, hook or crook, aid of devil or aid ofsaint, while a second current surged with increasing strength backtoward Strasburg. All was confusion. They would never stop to listen toexplanations as to a turned coat! Steve was sure that they would simplyshoot him or cut him down before he could say "I am one of you!" Theywould kill him, like a stray bee in the hive, and go their way, one wayor the other, whichever way they were going! The contending motions madehim giddy.
An aide in blue, galloping madly from the front, encountered beside thepokeberry clump an officer, directing, with his sword. Steve was morallyassured that they had seen him, had stopped, in short, to hale himforth. As they did not--only excitedly shouted each at the other--hedrew breath again. He could see the two but dimly, close though theywere, because of the dust. Suddenly there came to him a rose-colouredthought. That same veil must make him well-nigh invisible; more thanthat, the dust lay so thickly on all things that colour in any uniformwas a debatable quality. He didn't believe anybody was noticing. Theextreme height to which his courage ever attained, was at once his. Hefelt almost dare-devil.
The aide was shouting, so that he might be heard through the uproar."Where are the guns? Colonel Hatch says for the good Lord's sake hurrythem up! Hell's broke loose and occupied Middletown. Ashby's there, andthey say Jackson! They've planted guns--they've strung thousands of menbehind stone fences--they're using our own wagons for breastworks! Thecavalry was trying to get past. Listen to that!"
The other officer shouted also, waving his sword. "There's a batterybehind--Here it comes!--We ought to have started last night. The generalsaid he must develop the forces of the enemy--"
"He's developing them all right. Well, good-bye! Meet in Washington!"
The battery passed with uproar, clanging toward the front, scatteringmen to either side like spray. Steve's wayside bower was invaded. "Getout of here! This ain't no time to be sitting on your tail, thinking ofgoing fishing! G'lang!"
Steve went, covered with dust, the shade of the uniform below nevernoticed in the furious excitement of the road. Life there was at feverpoint, aware that death was hovering, and struggling to escape. In thedust and uproar, the blare and panic, he was aware that he was movingtoward Middletown where they were fighting. Fighting was not preciselythat for which he was looking, and yet he was moving that way, and hecould not help it. The noise in front was frightful. The head of thecolumn of which he now formed an unwilling part, the head of the snake,must be somewhere near Newtown, the rattling tail just out of Strasburg.The snake was trying to get clear, trying to get out of the middleValley to Winchester, fifteen miles away. It was trying to drag itspainful length through the village just ahead. There were scorpions inthe village, on both sides the pike, on the hills above. StonewallJackson with his old sabre, with his "Good! Good!" was hacking at thesnake, just there, in its middle. The old sabre had not yet cut quitethrough, but there was hope--or fear--(the deserter positively did notknow which) that presently it would be done. A tall soldier, besidewhom, in the dream torrent, Steve found himself, began to talk. "Got anywater? No. Nobody has. I guess it's pouring down rain in New Bedfordthis very minute! All the little streams running." He sighed. "'T ain'tno use in fussing. I don't remember to have ever seen you before, butthen we're all mixed up--"
"We are," said Steve. "Ain't the racket awful?"
"Awful. 'T is going to be like running the gauntlet, to run that town,and we're most there. If I don't get out alive, and if you ever go toNew Bedford--Whoa, there! Look out!"
Steve, thrust by the press away from the pike into a Middletown street,looked for a cellar door through which he might descend and be indarkness. All the street was full of struggling forms. A man onhorseback, tall and horrible in the nightmare, cut at him with a sabreas long as himself. Steve ducked, went under the horse's belly, and cameup to have a pistol shot take the cap from his head. With a yell he ranbeneath the second horse's arching neck. The animal reared; a thirdhorseman raised his carbine. There was an overturned Conestoga wagon inthe middle of the street, its white top like a bubble in all the wildswirl and eddy of the place. Steve and the ball from the carbine passedunder the arch at the same instant, the bullet lodging somewhere in thewagon bed.
Steve at first thought he might be dead, for it was cool and dark underthe tilted canvas, and there was a momentary effect of quietness. Thecarbine had been fired; perhaps the bullet was in his brain. Theuncertainty held but a second; outside the fracas burst forth again, andbeneath him something moved in the straw. It proved to be the driver ofthe wagon, wounded, and fallen back from the seat in front. He spoke nowin a curious, dreamy voice. "Get off the top of my broken leg--damn youto everlasting hell!" Steve squirmed to one side. "Sorry. Gawd knows Iwish I wasn't any nearer it than the Peaks of Otter!" There was atriangular tear in the canvas. He drew down the flap and looked out."They were Ashby's men--all those three!" He began to cry, thoughnoiselessly. "They hadn't ought to cut at me like that--shooting, too,without looking! They ought to ha' seen I wasn't no damned Yank--" Thefigure in the straw moved. Steve turned sick with apprehension. "Did youhear what I said? I was just a-joking. Gawd! It's enough to make a manwish he was a J
ohnny Reb--Hey, what did you say?"
But the figure in blue said nothing, or only some useless thing aboutwanting water. Steve, reassured, looked again out of window. His refugelay a few feet from the pike, and the pike was a road throughpandemonium. He could see, upon a height, dimly, through the dust andsmoke the Rockbridge battery. Yellow flashes came from it, thenear-splitting sound. A Federal force, horse, foot and guns, had hastilyformed in the opposite fields, seized a crest, planted cannon. Thesesent screaming shells. In between the iron giants roared themelee--Ashby jousting with Hatch's convoying cavalry--the Louisianatroops firing in a long battle line, from behind the stone fences--ahorrible jam of wagons, overturned or overturning, panic-stricken mules,drivers raving out oaths, using mercilessly long, snaky, blackwhips--heat, dust, thirst and thunder, wild excitement, blood and death!There were all manner of wagons. Ambulances were there withinmates,--fantastic sickrooms, with glare for shade, Tartarean heat forcoolness, cannon thunder and shouting for quietness, grey enemies fornursing women, and for home a battlefield in a hostile land. Heavyordnance wagons, far from the guns they were meant to feed, traces cutand horses gone, rested reef-like for the tides to break against.Travelling forges kept them company, and wagons bearing officers'luggage. Beneath several the mules were pinned; dreadful sight could anythere have looked or pitied! Looming through there were the great supplywagons, with others of lighter stores, holding boxes and barrels ofwines and fruits, commodities of all sorts, gold-leafed fripperies,luxuries of all manner, poured across the Potomac for her soldiers bythe North. Sutlers' wagons did not lack, garishly stocked, forlorn asHarlequin in the day's stress. In and around and over all these strandedhulls roared the opposing forces. Steve saw Ashby, on the blackstallion, directing with a gauntleted hand. Four great draught horses,drawing a loaded van, without a driver, maddened with fright, turnedinto this street up and down which there was much fighting. A shoutarose. Carbines cracked. One of the leaders came down upon his knees.The other slipped in blood and fell. The van overturned, pinning beneathit one of the wheel horses. Its fall, immediately beside the Conestoga,blocked Steve's window. He turned to crawl to the other side. As he didso the wounded soldier in the straw had a remark to make. He made it inthe dreamy voice he had used before. "Don't you smell cloth burning?"
Steve did; in an instant saw it burning as well, first the corner of thecanvas cover, then the straw beneath. He gave a screech. "We're on fire!Gawd! I've got to get out of this!"
The man in the straw talked dreamily on. "I got a bullet through the endof my backbone. I can't sit up. I been lying here studying the scoop ofthis here old wagon. It looks to me like the firmament at night, withall the stars a-shining. There's no end of texts about stars. 'Like asone star differeth from another--'" He began to cough. "There seems tobe smoke. I guess you'll have to drag me out, brother."
At the end of the village a stone fence ran between two houses, on theother side of a little garden slope planted with potatoes. In the shadowof the wall a line of men, kneeling, rested rifle barrel upon the copingand fired on Hatch's cavalry, now much broken, wavering towarddispersion. At first the line was hidden by a swirl of smoke; thislifted, and Steve recognized a guidon they had planted, then the menthemselves. They were the Louisiana Tigers, Wheat's Battalion,upgathered from levee and wharf and New Orleans purlieu, among many of abetter cast, not lacking rufflers and bravos, soldiers of fortune whomPappenheim might not have scorned. Their stone wall leaped fire again.
Steve looked to heaven and earth and as far around as the dun cloudpermitted, then moved with swiftness across the potato patch. All aboutin the mingled dust and smoke showed a shifting pageantry of fightingmen; upon the black earth below the rank green leaves and purple bloomslay in postures hardly conceivable the dead and wounded. In the line bythe stone fence was here and there a gap. Steve, head between shoulders,made for the breastwork and sank into one of these openings, hisneighbour upon one hand an Irish roustabout, on the other a Creole froma sugar plantation. He explained his own presence. "I got kind ofseparated from my company--Company A, 65th Virginia. I had an awfulfight with three damned Yanks, and a fourth came in and dragged my gunaway! If you don't mind I'll just stay here and help you--"
"Sorra an objection," said the Irishman. "Pick up Tim's musket behindyou there and get to wurruk!"
"Bon jour!" said the other side. "One camarade ees always zee welcome!"
An order rang down the line. "Sthop firing, is it?" remarked theIrishman. "And that's the first dacint wurrud I've heard this half hour!Wid all the plazure in life, captin!" He rested his musket against thestones, drew himself up, and viewed the prospect. "Holy Saint Pathrick!look at them sthramin' off into space! An' look at the mile of wagonsthey're afther lavin! Refrishmint in thim, my frind, for body and sowl!"
Steve pulled himself up beside the other. "Thar ain't any danger now ofstray bullets, I reckon? There's something awful in seeing a road likethat. There's a man that his mother wouldn't know!--horse stepped on hisface, I reckon. Gawd! we have gangs of prisoners!--Who's that coming outof the cloud?"
"Chew's Horse Artillery--with Ashby, the darlint!"
Ashby stopped before the stone house to the right. "There are men inhere--officers with them. Captain, go bid them surrender."
The captain, obeying, found a barred door and no answer. An approach tothe window revealed behind the closed blinds the gleam of a musketbarrel. "Go again! Tell them their column's cut and their armydispersed. If they do not surrender at once I will plant a shell in themiddle of that room."
The captain returned once more. "Well?"
"They said, 'Go to hell,' sir. They said General Banks would be here ina moment, and they'd taken the house for his headquarters. They've gotsomething in there beside water, I think."
A sergeant put in a word. "There's a score of them. They seized thisempty house, and they've been picking off our men--"
"Double canister, point-blank, Allen.--Well, sergeant?"
"It's not certain it was an empty house, sir. One of the Tigers, there,thinks there are women in it."
"Women!"
"He don't know--just thinks so. Thinks he heard a cry when the Yanksbroke in--Ah!--Well, better your hat than you, sir! We'll blow thatsharpshooter where he can look out of window sure enough! Match's ready,sir."
Ashby put back on his head the soft wide hat with a bullet hole besidethe black plume. "No, no, West! We can't take chances like that! We'llbreak open the door instead."
"The others think that the Tiger was mistaken, sir. They say all thewomen went out of the other houses, and they're sure they went out ofthis one, too. Shan't we fire, sir?"
"No, no! We can't take chances. Limber up, lieutenant, and move on withthe others.--Volunteers to break open that door!"
"Ain't nobody looking," thought Steve, behind the wall. "Gawd! I reckonI'll have to try my luck again. 'T won't do to stay here." To the bigIrishman he said, "Reckon I'll try again to find my company! I don'twant to be left behind. Old Jack's going to drive them, and he needsevery fighter!"