Altsheler, Joseph - [Novel 05]

by A Herald Of The West (lit)

  I sat down on the box and remained motionless a long time. I confess that I was dazed by the blow delivered so suddenly and with such little mercy. At first I had

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  the feeling that is in every one who is young and full of strength, that he can not die, at least not for scores of years. Death might strike others, but it would pass me by. Even now, after I realized that the major was in earnest, it was hard for me to believe that the threat was real. I was as strong as ever, and life was as sweet. Ten o'clock in the morning! Eighteen, twenty hours at the most! My mind could not take it in, for it was con trary to Nature and would not be permitted. Something would interfere.

  I had thought of death before, but only of a death on the battlefield. Even that thought had been vague, mere ly one of the possibilities, not a probability, to be reckoned with and to prepare for. That, too, was a death not with out honour; this to which I was doomed was like the death they inflicted on a criminal, a murderer. I was no spy. All my feelings revolted at the trade. Yet I was not only to be put to death as a spy, but my people, my best friends, my commander, perhaps Marian, would think that I was a spy and died as such.

  I sprang up from my stool and walked about in an endeavour to suppress weakness. I looked through the little window, and again caught glimpses of red-coated soldiers. One stopped near the window and I could see his face. It was red and jolly, and spoke of strong, healthy life. Yet that man was twice as old as I. What right had he to live on while I had to die?

  I sat down on the stool again. I could still hear, through the thin walls, the regular tramp of the sentinels. Tap-tap, tap-tap went their feet on the earth. Presently the sound of their footsteps ceased and some one fumbled at the door. It was only a soldier with food and drink for me. He put them on my box, and, giving me a sym pathetic look, went out.

  I turned to the food and was very much surprised to find that I had a good appetite. I ate heartily, and felt better for a while, but not long. The tread of the 21

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  sentinels annoyed me. Like the ticking of a clock it seemed to hasten the hours away. The night had come, and already the time had shortened to sixteen, fifteen, fourteen hours, maybe less. What was a l ittle while like that? It would soon be the tenth hour, and then the eighth and the sixth and then the end. Yet, telling about it now at this safe distance of time, I could not even yet believe in my soul that I was going to die, and I suppose that youth, health, and strength together gave me this anchor.

  I heard somebody laughing outside. In anger I went to the little window and saw two soldiers talking. It was some joke that they were telling to each other and en joying, ignorant or careless of the man condemned to death who heard. I wondered at the heartlessness of some human natures. In a pettish kind of wrath I took up the tin cup that held my drinking water and threw it through the window at the men. It struck clanging on the ground, and they went away.

  I felt a little glow of triumph at my victory and re turned to my box, where I sat for some time. I wanted sleep, and I believe that I could have slept had it not been for the dreary tread of the sentinels. Tap-tap, tap- tap it went, and so it would go on all night I supposed.

  The night advanced and I could no longer see any thing outside, but I could hear voices and the clank of metal against metal as the men handled their guns. These were the old familiar sounds of my camp life, and I grew incredulous again about the sudden coming of death. I could not reason it out.

  The darkness diminished by and by. A few beams of pale light came in at the little window and fell on the floor in front of me. They made round patches there like silver dollars. The moon was rising and the light increased. I looked out again and could see men now as well as hear them, but I did not know what they were about.

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  I tried at last to go to sleep, and lay down on the floor and shut my eyes. But that only made the tread of the sentinels more distinct. I began to count in order to soothe my brain and put it into a state that would invite sleep. I laughed, still in an unconvinced way, that on the last night of my life I should resort to this old child ish trick to banish wakefulness. One, two, three, four I counted and up to a hundred; then back one, two, three, four again. One, two, three, four rang the foot steps of the nearest sentinel as I counted. Unconsciously I began to count the footsteps which were to be the meas ure of my life. Up to one hundred I went, but I did not turn and go back again. I went on up, reached two hundred, and went on, calling each figure as the sentinel's foot struck the earth.

  Still counting, my eyelids drooped and the room grew darker. The hard floor seemed softer and the moonbeams multiplied upon it. The tread of the sentinels became less distinct. Perhaps, after all, they were going to stop. I was too languid to wonder about it long. I tried to count on, but I lost the number. Then I heard the tread no more, and, ceasing to hear, I went to sleep, with the moonbeams falling upon me.

  CHAPTEE XXIX.

  THE NIGHT BATTLE.

  IT was far in the night when I was awakened by a tall man in uniform, who gave me a rough shake.

  " Get up, Philip," said Major Northcote, who held a lantern in his hand.

  I rose and in a moment was wide-awake, as a man is likely to be at slight provocation on a night that he fears is going to be his last. Major Northcote carried a lan tern, the light of which fell upon his face, and I could see that he was making an effort to preserve his habitual look of pride and indifference.

  " I am up; what do you wish? "

  " The door is open, and the senijnels are away. Go ! "

  " Then you don't mean to have me shot in the morn- ing?"

  " No; I ought to do it, and you deserve it, but I've changed my mind. You can put down that change to what you please; and whatever you please it will probably be wrong. Perhaps I did not intend it in the first place; the old Komans used to put even their own sons to death when they deserved it, but we are not the old Komans; perhaps it was my old liking for you; perhaps my dead cousin, your mother, who was my childhood's playmate, interfered; perhaps it is because you are not worth the trouble, or perhaps a number of things. As I said, you can put it down to any cause or whim you choose."

  I judged by his face that he had been having some bad hours, but certainly I was not the one to complain on 316

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  that account. There was, too, a certain expression in his eyes as if he were ashamed of himself for some weak ness real or fancied. I caught, purposely or not, a little of his own cynical tone and manner.

  " I am obliged to you, Cousin Gilbert, for more than I expected," I said.

  " You had better go before I change my mind and take the obligation off you."

  That in truth would be a calamity, and I started to ward the door.

  " Shall I have any trouble with the sentinels? " I asked.

  " No, they are not there now."

  I stopped once at the door and told him I would not forget it, but he turned away impatiently. Then I stepped outside into darkness and freedom. How glorious the cool night air! What a change from eight or ten hours of life to fifty or sixty years maybe! What a mag nificent forest out there! Even the swamp was beautiful. I laughed from the mere delight of living, and then crossed the clearing, which, as my kinsman had said truly, contained no sentinels, and entered the forest.

  Though the men composing my little detachment had known the country through which we came, and I had been a stranger, I remembered enough of the general di rection to reach Few Orleans again after two days of hard travelling, and that Southern city, with its gay pop ulation, looked very welcome to me after my encounter with death in a black swamp. Despite the landing of the enemy in Louisiana and the imminence of battle, the city was gay in appearance and manner, for winter is the fine season there, and the presence of soldiers, especially young officers, in a town is not always depressing. As I has tened on I saw the handsome black-eyed women in the balconies with coloured Madras ker
chiefs tied over their heads, while in the streets lounged the men, dandies after the Parisian custom, their necks inclosed in high collars

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  with great fluffy cravats rising up and covering their chins, the long sleeves of their coats coming down over their hands and hiding them, the coats fine and brightly coloured, and their legs sunk in great boots with high flaps. Dandies in truth they looked, and dandies they were in some respects, but they -were honest and brave men too, and true as steel they were to us in face of all allurements, for the British issued proclamation after proclamation to them we could pick up their printed circulars anywhere saying they came not to war against the Louisianians, who would be protected in their homes and property, only against the Americans; but the great promises availed nothing, the Louisianians remained faithful to us, and soon we were to have the final proof.

  Dirty and tired as I was, I intended to go to General Jackson's headquarters on Eoyal- Street before seeking rest, food, or cleanliness, for I remembered that I had seen bargeload after bargeload of British troops passing from their fleet down Lake Borgne, and I believed that some formidable blow was menaced. My men continuing their scout, perhaps had not yet arrived in New Orleans, and I might be the first to bring the news of immediate danger. So I hastened through the streets, crossing the deep and miry gutters on narrow planks and sometimes holding my nose as I passed, until I came in sight of the house in which General Jackson lived. Several aides were at the doors, and it was about half past one o'clock of a cool December afternoon, the city looking luminous in the crisp winter sunshine.

  I knew one of the aides, and I increased my pace, but before .1 had taken many steps I slackened it again, for behind me came the thunder of horses' hoofs approaching swiftly. There were other people in the street, some saun tering along merely for air and exercise, but all of us alike turned to see who came so fast. There were three men on horseback, Creoles all, and one of them I knew, a young de Villere, a member of an old French family who

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  owned much land about New Orleans. The men were whipping their horses and their faces showed excitement. Villere was as muddy as I with the black mud of the suainps, but they galloped straight towards the general's headquarters, where Villere sprang at once from his horse. I knew that these men came so fast on no trifling errand, and I ran to the door.

  "The general! The general at once!" said Villere.

  " He is busy," said the adjutant.

  " Not too busy to hear that the British army is before the city, advancing in full strength," replied Villere.

  The adjutant looked incredulous at first, but Villere's face was enough to drive away doubts.

  " Come! " he said, and he hurried the three men and me into the house. I think he took me for one of their party; my appearance was sufficient. I had no doubt that the men whom I had seen in the boats formed the army of which Villere and his comrades had come to tell.

  General Jackson was at a table studying reports. He looked shabbier and older and feebler than ever, and his face spoke plainly of illness.

  Villere told the story quickly, and the general listened without any trace of excitement. Villere and his brothers had been sitting on the piazza of their house beside an orange grove, only a few miles from the city, when Eng lish soldiers came from among the orange trees and sur rounded them. They were sent to their rooms under guard, but Villere suddenly ran past the line of sentinels, jumped through a window, dashed across the yard, leaped the fence at one bound, with the musket balls showering around him, and darted across an open field toward a forest, still under fire. He escaped into a swamp and hid in the thick foliage of a cypress tree while his pur suers lumbered by. Then he descended, found a horse and two comrades, and galloped to New Orleans with the news that the British were only six miles away, when

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  everybody supposed they were a hundred. Who could say now that the Creoles were not faithful to us!

  We had been caught napping, but again there was none of that disorder, none of that alarm so manifest at Washington, for we had a different general now. He poured out some wine in decanters and asked each of us to take a glass while he sipped a little himself. Then he said:

  " Gentlemen, the British are below; we must fight them to-night."

  There was to be no waiting for the enemy here. We would seek him. I left the building hastily to join my regiment, for I was attached to the Tennesseeans. The streets already were filling with excited people, for the news seemed to spread itself. The great bell of the cathedral began to boom, not a melody, but swift heavy strokes, like the peal of cannon, ringing far over the city, which said plainly: " Arm! the enemy is near! "

  The women disappeared from the balconies, the chil dren left the streets, aides with messages and orders gal loped away from the general's headquarters, the drum mers were beating the long roll, and the great bell of the cathedral boomed incessantly. The soldiers began to pour into the Place d'Armes, and so good was the dis cipline, so severe the training of the iron general, that in twenty minutes from the arrival of Villere the regulars were in line, every gun and ammunition pouch in place, and after them came quickly the Creoles, the Tennessee ans, the free negroes, the San Domingan refugees, and a handful of French exiles, some of them old soldiers of Napoleon, a little army of many races and colours, but animated throughout and fused into a solid mass by the fierce will and courage of the man who commanded. I obtained a rifle from somebody and took my place with Mercer and Courtenay. Thirty minutes after the alarm we were on the march, swift but not hurried, in perfect order, yet but two thousand strong. The fourteen-gun

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  schooner Carolina had cut loose from her wharf and was dropping down the river in a course parallel to ours.

  We marched steadily, about six miles, I should think, down the river, and then, by an old canal, we halted. My place was at the edge of a cypress swamp, half hidden by tropic vegetation, and I could see nothing to tell me what was going on, for none near me knew; but, however long our waiting might be, I believed that it would end in a battle. I had acquired already Mercer's and Courtenay's confidence that Jackson was a general who would always fight.

  " What do you see, Felix? " I asked of Courtenay, who stood ten feet from me.

  " The cypress swamp, the sky, you, and a few sol diers," he replied.

  The twilight deepened fast and turned to darkness, for it was the shortest day of the year but two. Yet we waited and in the dark, some of us knee deep in the black mire of the swamp. The night was gloomy and chilly, and the clouds of fog rolling up from the river mingled with the air and made it heavy, damp, and raw. The wet cold crept into the marrow and we shivered. The sombre clouds stalked in battalions across the dusky sky. Only a few stars twinkled, and those feebly. A little dis tance away the figures of my comrades became dim and shadowy, and farther on they were invisible. The heavy breathing of the army rose and fell at regular intervals, and there came at times the swish of impatient feet in the mud.

  A wall of blackness rose in front of us. Two or three points of light twinkled in it, disappeared, reappeared here and there, and then were gone again. We could hear nothing but ourselves, the flowing of the river, and the rustling of a fitful wind. The banks of fog continued to roll up from the river, and the night grew colder, damper, and heavier.

  It is against the principles of war to fight on a dark

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  night, but it was not Andrew Jackson's way to pay much heed to the authorities, a fact that we had begun to learn. So we trusted him, and were not concerned about the future. Standing there in the mud, the dark, and the cold, and not knowing what was before us nor what we were to do, we carried fewer troubles than at Bladensburg in the full blaze of noonday. I drew my sword from its scabbard I was an officer now and held it ready, for I knew that sooner or later we would have work to do in that wall of blackness in fr
ont of us.

  The sound of a rifle shot came presently from the left, then another, and then a dozen, but they ceased in a moment, and we heard no more, nothing to tell us who fired and who was hurt. The army breathed a little harder, but the waiting began again, and we could hear the rustle of the wind through the foliage, the soft flow ing of the river, and the impatient shuffling of the men's feet, and nothing else. Courtenay stepped upon a cy press log.

  " What do you see, Felix? " I asked again.

  " Nothing new, but the increasing darkness," he re plied.

  A stern old man passed along our line, and every figure straightened, but there was no other movement. "We remained fixed, growing into the earth like saplings, Courtenay said. Twice again we heard distant rifle shots, and knew the skirmishers were doing a little work, but we knew no more. Some of the men had brought food and drink, and they shared it with each other; I took a bite, for at such times one wants all his strength. Lights began to flare in the darkness ahead of us, and the whisper was passed that they were the camp fires of the British.

  " We are going to stir 'em up a little, just to show 'em this is not Washington," said Courtenay, " and when we've warned 'em sufficiently we'll draw off."

  But the " stirring up " did not seem to hurry itself,

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  and in order to keep my mind busy I began to count the hostile watch fires gleaming through the night one, two, three, four, five, six but soon they became too numerous, and some of them were blurred together. I gave it up, took out my watch, and, by holding it close to my face, was barely able to see the time half past seven.