Rodney The Partisan

by Harry Castlemon

  CHAPTER XIV.

  "HURRAH FOR BULL RUN!"

  Having decided that he would waste too much time if he turned from hiscourse to punish the Union men who had persecuted his recruits, thecaptain "kept lumbering right along," and on the afternoon of the nextday came within sight of the town in which his regiment had beenencamped when he left it to start on his scout; but there was not atent, a wagon or a soldier to be seen about the place now, and a citizenwho came out to meet him, brought the information that the regiment hadmoved South to join Rains and Jackson, who were marching toward Neosho,a short distance from Springfield: and at the same time he gave thecaptain a written order from his colonel to join his command with allhaste.

  "If we had known this before, we might have kept company with yourfriend Tom," said the captain, as he faced the squad about after afashion of his own and started them on the back track. "Both sidesseemed to be concentrating in the southwestern part of the State, andthere's where the battle-ground is going to be."

  "Not all the time, I hope," said Rodney.

  "Of course not. We'll drive the enemy back on St. Louis, and wind up bytaking that city. General Pillow will march up from New Madrid toco-operate with us, and perhaps he will stop on the way to take Cairo. Ihope he will, to pay those Illinois chaps for robbing the St. Louisarmory."

  This was a very pretty programme but the captain thought it could beeasily carried out, and the very next day he heard a piece of news whichcaused him to make several additions to it. As the squad was moving pasta plantation house an excited man, who was in too great a hurry to gethis hat, rushed down to the gate flourishing a paper over his head andshouted, at the top of his voice:

  "Hurrah for Jeff Davis! Hurrah for Johnston! Hurrah for Bull Run and allthe rest of 'em!"

  "What's up?" inquired the captain, reining in his horse.

  "Here's something that one of Price's men slung at me yesterday while hewas riding along," replied the planter, opening the gate and placing thepaper in the officer's eager palm. "Aint we walking over 'em roughshodthough, and didn't I say all the while that we were bound to do it? ANorthern mechanic has got no business alongside a Southern gentleman."

  "Have we had a fight?" asked the captain. "I wonder if my regiment wasin it."

  "No, I don't reckon it was," answered the man, with a laugh. "You see ithappened out in Virginny, a few miles from Washington. I wish I mightget a later paper'n that, for I calculate to read in it that our boysare in Washington dictating--"

  "Hey--youp!" yelled the captain, who began to understand the matternow.

  "Price's men whooped and yelled worse'n that when they went byyesterday," said the man, jumping up and knocking his heels togetherlike a boy who had just been turned loose from school. "That's Davis'sdispatch right there. He went out from Richmond to watch the fight, andgot there just in time to see the Yankees running."

  The officer, who was worked up to such a pitch of excitement that thepaper rustled in his trembling hands, glanced over the black headlinesto which the planter directed his attention, and then read the dispatchaloud so that his men could hear it. It ran as follows:

  "Night has closed upon a hard-fought field. Our forces were victorious.The battle was fought mainly on our left. Our forces were fifteenthousand; that of the enemy estimated at thirty-five thousand."

  "And when the Yankees got a-going," chimed in the planter, clapping hishands and swaying his body back and forth after the manner of a negrowho had been carried away by some sudden enthusiasm, "they neverstopped. It was such a stampede that their officers couldn't do nothingwith 'em. The soldiers who were running away from the battle met thecivilians who were riding out from Washington to see it, and the twoliving streams of humanity, one going one way and t'other going t'otherway, got all mixed up together; and all the while there were ourbatteries playing onto 'em and our cavalry riding through 'em andsabering first one and then another, till--Hey--youp! I'll be doggone ifI can seem to get it through my head, although I have read it more'n ahundred times."

  This astounding intelligence almost took away the breath of the men wholistened to it. Of course they had known all the while that whipping theNorth was going to be as easy as falling off a log, but to have theiropinions confirmed in this unexpected way almost overwhelmed them. Theyknew it was bound to come, but they hadn't looked for it so soon. Theygazed at one another in silence for a moment or two, and then the shoutthey set up would have done credit to a larger squad than theirs. Theplanter, who really acted as though he had taken leave of his senses,joined in, laughing and shaking his head and slapping his knees in a waythat set Rodney Gray in a roar. It was a long time before the captaincould bring his squad to "attention."

  "There's a good deal more in this paper," said he, "and if you will letme have it, I should like to read it to the boys when we go into camp.We belong to Price, and want to catch up with the men who went by hereyesterday."

  "Then you'll have to skip along right peart," replied the man. "That'sthe way they were going stopped long enough to drink my well 'most dry,and then went off in a lope. As for the paper, take it along. You don'treckon there's any chance for a mistake, do you?"

  "Not the slightest. President Davis knew what he was doing when he sentthat telegram to Richmond."

  "But fifteen thousand against thirty-five thousand," said the planter,whose excitement had not driven all his common sense out of his head."That's big odds, and it kinder sticks in my crop. Well, good-by, if youmust be going, and good luck to you."

  "It doesn't stick in my crop," replied the captain. "I knew we could doit, and we'll whip bigger odds than that, if they keep forcing war uponus. Don't you know that the man who looks for a fight generally getsmore than he wants? Forward! Trot!"

  Never before had Rodney Gray been thrown into the company of so wild aset of men. If such a thing were possible, they were wilder than thosehis Cousin Marcy found on his train when he boarded it at Barrington onhis way home. The first rational thought that came into his mind was:What a lucky thing that Tom Percival was well out of the way when thisnews came! Tom would have betrayed himself sure, for he never could havepulled off his hat and shouted and whooped with any enthusiasm when heheard that the cause in which he believed, and for which he was willingto risk his life, had met with disaster. At length the captain, whoappeared to have been awed into silence, said slowly:

  "I, too, would like to see a later paper than this. If it is true thatthe Federals were utterly routed and thrown into such confusion thattheir officers could do nothing with them, our victorious troops musthave followed them into Washington, and I shouldn't wonder if they werethere at this moment, dictating terms of peace to the Lincolngovernment."

  The paper that had been given him, proved to be a copy of the _MobileRegister_. As the captain talked he ran his eye rapidly over itscolumns, and finally found an editorial containing a piece of news thatcaused him to halt his squad and face his horse about.

  "Here's something I want to read to you," said he. "Come up close on allsides so that you can hear every word of it. You know that our governorproposed that Missouri should remain neutral, and that a conference washeld at the Planter's House in St. Louis to talk the matter over. Thisis what General Lyon said in reply to the governor's proposition, Nowlisten, so that you may know who is to blame for the troubles that havecome upon us:

  "'Rather than concede to the State of Missouri the right to demand thatgovernment shall not enlist troops within her limits, or bring troopsinto the State whenever it please, or move its troops at its own will, Iwould see every man, woman and child in the State dead and buried. Thismeans war.'

  "What do you boys say to that?" continued the captain.

  "I say that if the Yankees want war we'll give them more than they'llcare to have," answered one of the squad; and all his comrades yelledtheir approval. "Now while you're reading, captain, suppose you readabout that big battle. Let's hear just how bad our fifteen
thousandwhipped the Yankee thirty-five thousand."

  The officer complied and read an account of the battle of Bull Run,which was so highly sensational and so utterly unreasonable, that RodneyGray's common sense would not let him believe, more than half of it. Hehoped and believed that the Southern soldiers had gained a gloriousvictory over the Lincoln hirelings; but that there could have been sogreat a difference in the size of the contending armies, did not lookreasonable. But the captain put implicit faith in the story.

  "It seems that the Federal success in the beginning of the fight wasowing to their overwhelming numbers," said he. "But the men on our sidewere gentlemen who could not be driven by a rabble, and of course theywere bound to win in the end. But here is an article that may be of moreinterest to us. It is entitled. 'The Situation in Missouri.' You knowthat Governor Jackson went to Jefferson City and issued a proclamationcalling the people to arms, and that Lyon came up the river onsteamboats and routed him from there and from Booneville, too. You knowall about it, because you were there and so was I. Well, the Northernpapers think that that was a blow that secured Missouri to the Union,and that thousands, who have been hesitating which side to take, willnow enlist to put down the rebellion. _Rebellion!_ Remember the word.That's what the Lincoln hirelings call the efforts of a free people tomaintain their freedom. But listen to what the _Register_ has to say onthis point:

  "The Northern soldiers prefer enlisting to starvation. But they are notsoldiers, least of all to meet the hot-blooded, thorough-bred, impetuousmen of the South. They are trencher-soldiers who enlisted to make warupon rations, not upon men. They are such as marched through Baltimore,squalid, wretched, ragged, half-naked, as the newspapers of that cityreport them; fellows who do not know the breech of a musket from itsmuzzle; white slaves, peddling watches; small-change knaves andvagrants. These are the levied forces which Lincoln arrays as candidatesfor the honor of being slaughtered by gentlemen such as Mobile sends tobattle. Let them come South and we will put our negroes to the dirtywork of killing them. But they will not come South. Not a wretch of themwill live on this side of the border longer than it will take us toreach the ground and drive them off.'

  "Can we at the front be whipped while our friends at home keep up suchheart as that?" cried the excited captain, pulling off his cap andflourishing it over his head with one hand, while he shook the paper athis men with the other. "Three cheers for brave old Missouri, andconfusion to everybody who wants to keep her down."

  "Everybody except Tom Percival," thought Rodney, as he threw up his capand joined in to help increase the almost deafening noise that arosewhen the officer ceased speaking. "Whatever happens to anybody else Iwant Tom to come out all right."

  After this short delay the squad rode on again, and along every mile ofthe road they traversed they found people to cheer them and hurrah forthe great victory at Bull Run. There were no signs of Union men anywherealong the route, but the blackened ruins they passed now and thenpointed out the sites of the dwellings in which some of them hadformerly lived. Those ruins had been left there by some of Price's menscouting parties like the one with which he was now riding. Rodney hadalways thought he should like to be a scout, but if that was the sort ofwork scouts were expected to do, he decided that he would rather be aregular soldier. He wouldn't mind facing men who had weapons in theirhands, because that was what soldiers enlisted for; but the idea ofturning women and children out into the weather, by burning their housesover their heads, was repugnant to him. There was one piece of news heand the captain did not get, although they asked everybody for it. Noone could tell them for certain that the victorious Confederates hadgone into Washington and dictated terms of peace to the Lincolngovernment. There were plenty who were sure it had been done, but theyhad received no positive information of it. The only news they heard onwhich they could place reliance was that Price had withdrawn fromNeosho, and effected a junction with Jackson and Rains at Carthage. Thatwas a point in the captain's favor, for instead of being obliged to makea wide detour to the east and south of Springfield, he turned squarelyto the west toward Carthage, and saved more than a hundred miles oftravel, as well as the risk of being captured by a scouting party ofYankee cavalry.

  The squad reached Carthage without seeing any signs of Siegel'stroopers, who were supposed to be raiding through the country in alldirections, and when Rodney rode into the camp, which was pitched upon alittle rise of ground a short distance from the town, he remarked thathe had never seen a stranger sight. The camp itself was all right. Thetents were properly pitched, the wagons and artillery parked after themost approved military rules, and all this was to be expected, since thecommanding general was a veteran of the Mexican war; but the men lookedmore like a mob than they did like soldiers. There were eight thousandof them, and not one in ten was provided with a uniform of any sort. Theguard who challenged them carried a double-barrel shotgun, and the onlything military there was about him, was a rooster's feather stuck in theband of his hat.

  "They're a good deal better than they look," said the captain, whenRodney called his attention to the fact that the sentry "slouched"rather than walked over his beat, and that he didn't know how to holdhis gun. "They are not very well drilled yet, but they'll fight, andthat is the main thing. Think of Washington and his ragamuffins atValley Forge the next time you feel disposed to criticise the boys."

  "Where is the enemy?" inquired Rodney.

  "He is supposed to be concentrating twenty thousand men at Springfield,thirty-five miles east of here." replied the captain. "When McCullochgets up from Arkansas we'll have a little more than fifteen thousand.But that's enough. We'll be in St. Louis in less than a month. Thatvictory at Bull Run will nerve our boys to do good work when they get atit. Now where shall I go to find my regiment? The colonel is the man Iwant to report to."

  While the captain was looking around to find an officer of whom he couldmake inquiries, there was a loud clatter of hoofs behind, and a momentafterward a spruce young fellow, handsomely mounted and wearing auniform that Rodney Gray would have recognized anywhere, dashed by andheld on his way without once looking in their direction.

  "There he is now," exclaimed the captain, before Rodney had time tospeak. "Oh, sergeant!"

  The horseman drew up and turned about just as Rodney's hand was placedupon his shoulder. The greeting was just such a one as any two boyswould extend to each other under similar circumstances, and so we neednot say any more about it. Rodney and Dick Graham were shaking hands atlast, and two brothers could not have been more delighted.

  "How in the world did you get through St. Louis without being put injail, and where did you pick him up, captain?" were the questions Dickasked when he recovered from his surprise. "Lyon is between us and St.Louis, but we manage to get our mail pretty regularly--Heard about BullRun? Wasn't that a victory though? Fifteen thousand against thirty-fivethousand! When we were at school, captain--"

  "Where's the regiment?" interrupted the latter. "I am ordered to reportto the colonel at once."

  "Over there," replied Dick, sweeping his right arm around the horizon soas to include the whole camp on that side of the street. "Come on, and Iwill show you the way. When we were at school the Union boys made sportof us rebels because we shouted ourselves hoarse over the victory inCharleston Harbor, and declared that we ought to be ashamed of ourselvesfor it. Five thousand men against fifty-one was not a thing to be proudof. But they couldn't say that now if they were here. We won a fairfight on the field of Bull Run, although the enemy outnumbered us morethan two to one. I say we are going to repeat the good work right herein Missouri."

  "Are you Confederate?" inquired Rodney.

  "Not much. I'm State Rights. That's me."

  "And you'll not be ordered out of your State?"

  "I may be ordered but I won't go. That's me. Seen Jeff Thompson's lastproclamation? In it he calls Lyon's Dutchmen Hessians and Tories, andsays our first hard work must be to drive them from the State. Afterthat has been done, then we'l
l decide whether or not we want to join theConfederacy."

  "If the Governor of Louisiana had talked that way I would not be herenow," said Rodney. "He tried to swear us into the Confederate serviceagainst our will, and that broke up the company. I have as much to tellyou as you have to tell me, and I propose that we postpone our talkinguntil we can sit down somewhere and have it out with no fear ofinterruption. Do you suppose I can get into your company?"

  "I suppose you can," replied Dick, with a laugh. "When the captain seesyour writing he will make you orderly so quick you will never know it."

  "Then he'll never see any of my writing," said Rodney, earnestly. "Ifyou so much as hint to him that I know a pen-point from a pen-holder,I'll never forgive you. Captain Hubbard's men wanted to make me companyclerk, but I couldn't see the beauty of it, and so they elected mesergeant. But I don't want any office now. I want to remain a private sothat I will have a chance to go with you if you are sent out on a scout.But bear one thing in mind," he added, in a lower tone, "you needn'torder me to burn any houses, for I'll not do it."

  "I am down on all such lighting myself," replied Dick, with emphasis."If we ever go out together I will show you as many as half-a-dozenhouses that would be ashes now if it hadn't been for me, and one of themcovers the head of one Thomas Percival--when he is at home."

  Dick thought Rodney would be much surprised at this, but he wasn't. Allhe said was:

  "Does Tom know it?"

  "I don't suppose he does, or his father, either; but I have thesatisfaction of knowing that I have done something to strengthen thefriendship that existed between Tom and myself while we were atBarrington. You will know how hard a time I had in doing any thing forthe Percivals when I tell you that Tom is suspected of belonging to acompany of Home Guards."

  "Suspected, is he?" said Rodney, with a knowing wink. "Is that all youknow about him? He's captain of a company he raised himself, and rodeall the way alone to St. Louis to ask Lyon if he could join him. He wasafraid to trust the mails. He told me that the Vigilance Committees hada way of opening letters from suspected persons, and he didn't want torun any risks."

  "Well now, I am beat," said Dick, who had listened to this revelationwith a look of the profoundest astonishment on his face. "But how doesit come that you know so much more about him than I do? Have you beencorresponding with him?"

  "I never heard a word from him from the time I left Barrington until Imet him at Cedar Bluff landing in a nest of Confederates. Tom was aprisoner, was known to be Union, accused of being a horse-thief and in afair way of being hung; but he got out of the scrape somehow, and I hopeis safe at home by this time."

  "Well, well," repeated Dick, growing more and more amazed. "So do I hopehe is safe at home, and if he got within a hundred miles of SpringfieldI reckon he is. The country is full of Federal cavalry, and how yoursquad came through without being molested is more than I can understand.You will find the colonel in this tent, captain," said he, dismountingand drawing some papers from his pocket. "I must report too, for I havebeen on an errand for him. I'll be out in a minute, Rodney."

  Dick followed, the captain into the colonel's tent, and Rodney sat onhis horse and looked around while he awaited his return. He thought ofwhat the captain had said regarding the Continentals at Valley Forge,but did not see that there could be any comparison drawn between the twoarmies. Price's men seemed to be well clothed, provisions were plenty,and as for their arms, they had an abundance of them such as they were,and a charging enemy would find their double-barrel shotguns bad thingsto face at close quarters. But a few months later the comparison was agood one. During the "little Moscow retreat," after the battle of PeaRidge (which Van Dorn's ambition led him to fight contrary to orders),along a route where there were neither roads nor bridges, through aregion from which the inhabitants had all fled, leaving the country "sopoor that a turkey buzzard would not fly over it," with no train ofwagons, or provisions to put in them if there had been, and no tents toshelter them from the cold, biting winds and sleet and snow--when RodneyGray found himself and companions in this situation he thought of theContinentals, and wondered at the patriotism that kept them in theranks. But it wasn't patriotism that kept Price's men together. It was_fear_ and nothing else.

  But this dark picture was hidden from Rodney's view as he sat there onhis horse waiting for his friend Dick Graham to come out of thecolonel's tent. The martial scenes around him, the military order thateverywhere prevailed, the companies and regiments drilling in the fieldsclose by, the inspiriting music that came to his ears--these sights andsounds filled him with enthusiasm; and if any one had told him that thetime would come when he would think seriously of deserting the army andturning his back upon the cause he had espoused, Rodney Gray would havebeen thunder struck. But the time came.