by Oliver Optic
THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT
Or
The Adventures of an Army Officer
A Story of the Great Rebellion
by
OLIVER OPTIC
Author of"The Soldier Boy," "The Sailor Boy," "Brave Old Salt,""The Yankee Middy," "Fighting Joe," etc.
A. L. Burt CompanyPublishers :: :: New York
TOWilliam A. Moulton, Esq.
THIS BOOKIS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED
BY HIS FRIENDWILLIAM T. ADAMS
THE YOUNG LIEUTENANTORTHE ADVENTURES OF AN ARMY OFFICER
CHAPTER I
CAPTAIN DE BANYAN AND OTHERS
"I beg your pardon, sir; but I see, by the number on your cap, that webelong to the same regiment," said an officer with two bars on hisshoulder-straps, as he halted in the aisle of the railroad-car, nearwhere Lieutenant Thomas Somers was seated. "May I be permitted to inquirewhom I have the honor of addressing?"
"Lieutenant Somers, of the ----th Massachusetts," replied the younggentleman addressed, as he politely touched his cap in return for thesalutation of the other.
"Ah! is it possible? I am rejoiced to meet you. I have heard of youbefore. Allow me to add in the most delicate manner, that you are a goodfellow, a first-rate soldier, and as brave an officer as ever sported apair of shoulder-straps. Permit me to offer you my hand; and allow me toadd, that it is a hand which was never sullied by a dishonorable act."
"I am happy to make your acquaintance," replied Lieutenant Somers, as heaccepted the offered hand. "Won't you take a seat, Captain----"
"Captain de Banyan, at your service," continued the officer, as he seatedhimself by the side of the young lieutenant, who was completelybewildered by the elegant and courtly speech of his new-found friend.
If Lieutenant Somers needs any further introduction to the reader, we maybriefly add, that he was a native of Pinchbrook, a town near Boston, inthe State of Massachusetts. He was now entering his eighteenth year, andhad enlisted in the great army of the Union as a private, with an earnestand patriotic desire to serve his imperiled country in her death-grapplewith treason and traitors. He had won his warrant as a sergeant bybravery and address, and had subsequently been commissioned as a secondlieutenant for good conduct on the bloody field of Williamsburg, where hehad been wounded. The injury he had received, and the exhaustionconsequent upon hard marching and the excitement of a terrible battle,had procured for him a furlough of thirty days. He had spent this briefperiod at home; and now, invigorated by rest and the care of lovingfriends, he was returning to the army to participate in that stupendouscampaign which culminated in the seven-days' battles before Richmond.
Inspired by the hope of honorable distinction, still more by thepatriotic desire to serve the noblest cause for which the soldier everdrew a sword, he was hastening to the post of danger and duty. As thetrain hurried him by smiling fields, and through cities and villageswhose prosperity was mysteriously interlinked with the hallowed missionwhich called him from the bosom of home and friends, his thoughts werethose which would naturally animate the soul of a young patriot, as hejourneyed to the battle-fields of a nation's ruin or salvation. Hethought of the bloody scenes before him, of the blessed home behind him.
Only the day before, he had made his parting visit to Lilian Ashford, whoknit his "fighting socks," as he had called them since the eventful daywhen he had found her letter and her picture in them. Of course, he couldnot help thinking of her; and, as he had a thin stratum of sentiment inhis composition, it is more than probable that the beautiful young ladymonopolized more than her fair share of his thoughts; but I am sure itwas not at all to the detriment of the affection he owed his mother andthe other dear ones, who were shrined in the sanctuary of his heart.
Lieutenant Somers was an exceedingly good-looking young man, which, as itwas no fault of his own, we do not object to mention. He was clothed inhis new uniform, which was very creditable to the taste and skill of histailor. On his upper lip, an incipient mustache had developed itself;and, though it presented nothing remarkable, it gave brilliant promise ofsoon becoming all that its ambitious owner could possibly desire,especially as he was a reasonable person, and had no taste formonstrosities. He had paid proper attention to this ornamental appendage,which is so indispensable to the making-up of a soldier; and the result,if not entirely satisfactory, was at least hopeful.
The subject of our remarks wore his sash and belt, and carried his swordin his hand, for the reason that he had no other convenient way oftransporting them. Our natural pride, as his biographer, leads us torepeat that he was a fine-looking young man; and we will venture to say,that the young lady who occupied the seat on the opposite side of the carwas of the same opinion. Of course, she did not stare at him; but she hadtwo or three times cast a furtive glance at the young officer; though theoperation had been so well managed, that he was entirely unconscious ofthe fact.
Inasmuch as this same young lady was herself quite pretty, it is notsupposable that she had entirely escaped the observation of our gallantyoung son of Mars. We are compelled to say he had glanced in thatdirection two or three times, to keep within the limits of a modestcalculation; but it is our duty to add that he was not captivated, andthat there is not the least danger of our story degenerating into alove-tale. Lieutenant Somers thought she was nearly as pretty as LilianAshford; and this, we solemnly declare, was the entire length and breadthof the sentiment he expended upon the young lady, who was certainlyworthy of a deeper homage.
She was in charge of an elderly, dignified gentleman, who had occupiedthe seat by her side until half an hour before the appearance of Captainde Banyan; but, being unfortunately addicted to the small vice ofsmoking, he had gone forward to the proper car to indulge his propensity.Lieutenant Somers had studied the faces of all the passengers near him,and had arrived at the conclusion that the lady's protector was agentleman of consequence. He might be her father or her uncle; but he wasa member of Congress, the governor of a State, or some high official,perhaps a major-general in "mufti." At any rate, our hero was interestedin the pair, and had carried his speculations concerning them as far astheory can go without a few facts to substantiate it, when hisreflections were disturbed by Captain de Banyan.
"Lieutenant Somers, I'm proud to know you, as I had occasion to remarkbefore. I have heard of you. You distinguished yourself in the battle ofWilliamsburg," said Captain de Banyan.
"You speak very handsomely of me--much better than I deserve, sir."
"Not a particle, my boy. If there is a man in the army that canappreciate valor, that man is Captain de Banyan. You are modest,Lieutenant Somers--of course you are modest; all brave men aremodest--and I forgive your blushes. I've seen service, my boy. Though notyet thirty-five, I served in the Crimea, in the Forty-seventh RoyalInfantry; and was at the battles of Solferino, Magenta, Palestro, andothers too numerous to mention."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Lieutenant Somers, filled with admiration by themagnificent record of the captain. "Then you are not an American?"
"Oh, yes, I am! I happened to be in England when the Russian warcommenced. So, being fond of a stirring life, I entered as a private inthe Forty-seventh. If the war had continued six months longer, I shouldhave come out a brigadier-general, though. Promotion is not so rapid inthe British army as in our own. I was at the storming of the Redan; I wasone of the first to mount the breach. Just as I had raised my musket----"
"I thought you were an officer--a colonel at least," interposedLieutenant Somers.
"My sword, I should have said. Just as I had raised my sword to cut downa Russian who threatened to bayonet me,
a cannon-ball struck the butt ofmy gun----"
"Your gun?"
"The handle of my sword, I should have said, and snapped it off like apipe-stem."
"But didn't it snap your hand off too?" asked the lieutenant, ratherbewildered by the captain's statements.
"Not at all; that is the most wonderful part of the story. It didn't evengraze my skin."
"That was very remarkable," added Lieutenant Somers, who could not see,for the life of him, how a cannon-ball could hit the handle of the swordwithout injuring the hand which grasped it.
"It was very remarkable, indeed; but I was reminded of the circumstanceby the remembrance that you were hit in the head by a bullet, which didnot kill you. I shouldn't have mentioned the affair if I hadn't called tomind my own experience; for life yourself, Somers, I am a modest man; infact, every brave man is necessarily a modest man."
"Were you ever wounded, Captain de Banyan?"
"Bless you, half a dozen times. At Magenta, the same bullet passed twicethrough my body."
"The same bullet?"
"Yes, sir--the same bullet. I'll tell you how it happened. I was in theheavy artillery there. The bullet of the Russian--"
"The Russian! Why, I thought the battle of Magenta was fought between theAustrians and the French."
"You are right, my boy. The bullet of the Austrian, I should have said,passed through my left lung, struck the cannon behind me, bounded back,and hitting me again, passed through my right lung. When it came out, ithit my musket, and dropped upon the ground. I picked it up, and have itat home now."
"Whew!" added Lieutenant Somers in a low whisper. "It's quite warmto-day," he continued, trying to turn off the remark.
"Very warm, indeed."
"But didn't you fall after the ball had passed through both your lungs?"
"Not at all. I walked five miles to the hospital. On my way, I met theEmperor Napoleon, who got off his horse, and thanked me for the valor Ihad displayed, and conferred on me the medal of the Legion of Honor. Ikeep the medal in the same bag with the bullet."
"Then you have actually shaken hands with the Emperor of France?" criedthe amazed lieutenant.
"Yes; and King Victor Emmanuel called to see me in the hospital, where Iwas confined for five weeks. At Solferino, both their majesties shookhands with me, and thanked me again for my services. Being a modest man,I shouldn't want to say out loud that I saved the day for the French andSardinians at Solferino. At any rate, their majesties did the handsomething by me on that day."
"I thought you were in the hospital five weeks after Magenta."
"So I was; and well do I remember the little delicacies sent me by theKing of Italy while I lay there on my back. Ah! that Victor Emmanuel is anoble fellow. At Solferino, he----"
"But how could you have been at Solferino, if you were in the hospitalfive weeks?"
"I did not die of my wounds, it is scarcely necessary for me to remark. Igot well."
"But the battle of Solferino was fought on the 20th of June, and that ofMagenta on the 4th of June. There were only twenty days between thebattles."
"You are right, Somers. I have made some mistake in the dates. I neverwas good at remembering them. When I was in college, the professors usedto laugh at me for forgetting the date of the Christian Era. By the way,do you smoke, Somers? Let's go into the smoking-car, and have a cigar."
"I thank you; I never smoke."
"Ah! you are worse than a hot potato. But I am dying for a smoke; and, ifyou will excuse me, I will go forward. I will see you again before we getto New York."
Captain de Banyan, apparently entirely satisfied with himself, rose fromhis seat, and sauntered gracefully forward to the door of the car,through which he disappeared, leaving Lieutenant Somers busy in a vainendeavor to crowd five weeks in between the 4th and the 20th of June. Thecaptain was certainly a pleasant and voluble person, and Somers hadenjoyed the interview; though he could not repress a rising curiosity tosee the bullet which had passed twice through the body of the valiantsoldier, and the medal of the Legion of Honor conferred upon him by hisimperial majesty the Emperor of France.
Some painful doubts in regard to the truth of Captain de Banyan'sremarkable experience were beginning to intrude themselves into his mind;and it is quite probable that he would have been hurled into an unhappystate of skepticism, if the train in which he was riding had not beensuddenly hurled down an embankment some twenty feet in height, where thecars were piled up in shapeless wrecks, and human beings, full of lifeand hope a moment before, were suddenly ushered into eternity, or maimedand mangled for life.
