"May God bless you and yours!
"ENOS MARTIN."
By this letter, both the notions of the Fool and the fears of his wife were strengthened. Metta, seeing him grow more and more settled in his determination, did not think it worth while to offer any further opposition; but consoled herself with the reflection that her husband's health was the thing of prime importance, and smothered her fear with a blind, baseless hope, that, because what the purposed doing was a thing born of good motive and kindly feeling, it would be prospered. Some people call that "faith;" and it is no doubt a great consolation, perhaps the only one, when reason and common sense are squarely opposed to the course one is taking.
CHAPTER VI
ALL LOST BUT HONOR
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WHILE the matter was in this unsettled state, the Fool received a letter from Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn of Pipersville, a town in which his command had been for some time quartered just before he had quitted the service, to which fact, among other things, he was indebted for the honor of Colonel Vaughn's, acquaintance.
Some few days after the collapse of the Confederacy, a gentleman had presented himself at the headquarters of the Fool in Pipersville, and directed the orderly in attendance to announce that, —
"Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn desired to surrender, and take the oath of allegiance."
Thereupon he was ushered into the presence of our hero, and with considerable pomposity announced the fact again. Somehow he did not seem to the young soldier to have that air of one accustomed to camps and the usage of armies which was to be expected from a veteran of a four-years' war, who came in at the last moment to give up his sword, after all his comrades had been paroled and had departed. It is true, he had on the regulation gray suit of "the enemy;" and the marks of rank upon the collar might at one time have been intended for the grade he had announced. He wore a light slouch hat, which, though not of any prescribed pattern, had evidently seen much service of some kind. But the surrender brought to light some queer specimens of uniform and equipments, so that Colonel Servosse would not have been surprised at any thing that an officer might have worn. There was something, however, in the loud and somewhat effusive greeting, which, even allowing all that it was possible should be credited to laxity of discipline, showed that the man before him was not accustomed to association with military men. So he asked quietly, —
"Of what regiment, sir?"
"Colonel Vaughn, — Colonel Vaughn," said that worthy, depositing himself upon a camp stool, as if in assertion of his familiarity with military surroundings. "Well, sir," he continued in a loud and somewhat assuming tone, "you've got us, overpowered us at last. It was the Irish and Germans that did it. I had no idea you could get so many of them. They just swarmed on your side. The Yankees never could have whipped us in the world by themselves, — never. But it's over. I surrender, — give up, — quit. I'm not one of those that want to keep up a fuss always. I've come in to give myself up, and go to work now to try and make bread and meat, sir, — bread and meat. You uns have freed all the niggers, so that we have nobody to work for us. Have to come to it ourselves. Haven't you got a mule you could let me have, Colonel? Hain't got no money; but Zek'le Vaughn's credit's tolerably good yet, I reckon. Lost forty odd niggers, — as likely ones, too, as ever stood 'twixt soil and sunshine, — and now have got to go to plowing — at my age. It's hard; but we've got to have bread and meat, — bread and meat, sir. Hard, but can't be helped. Did all I could agin ye; but here you are. Let me take the oath. I want to be sworn, and go to plowing before the sun gets too hot."
"What regiment did you say, sir?" repeated the officer.
"Oh, never mind the regiment!" said the other: "that's all over now. Just Say Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn: that's enough. Everybody knows Colonel Vaughn, — Zeke Vaughn. I shouldn't wonder if you should find they knew me up at headquarters."
"It is necessary, sir, that I have the name and number of your regiment before you can be paroled," said the officer sharply.
"Ah, yes! the regiment. Well, Colonel, you are mighty particular, it seems to me. What difference can it make now, I should like to know?" he asked.
"It is necessary to identify you," was the reply.
"Ay, yes! I see. You are afraid I might break my parole, and give you some trouble. I confess I have not been whipped; but I am overpowered, — overpowered, sir, — and I surrender in good faith. I give my honor, sir, — the honor of a Southern gentleman, — as well as my oath, sir!" he said, with a great show of offended dignity.
"That may be, Colonel," responded the officer; "but our orders require that you shall be fully identified."
"Well, well! that's very proper. Just say Colonel Vaughn of Pipersville: that will identify me. Everybody in the State knows me. No use of my trying to get away. I shall be right here, when you want to find me, ready to come up, and be hung, if that is to be the end of it. Oh, I meant it! I was one of the original 'Secesh,' — one of the immortal thirteen that voted for it in this county. I never would have stopped fightin' ye if I'd had my way. You'd never 'a' got here if I'd had my way! But that's all over now. I want my parole, so I can go home, and go to killin' grass!"
"When I learn your regiment and command, I will fill out the blank," answered the officer decisively.
"Oh, yes! the regiment. Well, Colonel, the fact is, — ahem! — that I've, — ahem! I've done forgot what number it was."
"What! forgotten the number of your regiment?"
"Dog-goned if I hain't, — slick as you please. You see, wasn't in one of the regular regiments."
"Well, what was your command? to what division or brigade were you attached?"
"Well, I wa'n't exactly attached to any."
"Did you have an independent command?"
"No: not exactly."
"Were you on staff duty?"
"Not exactly."
"Will you tell me what you were 'exactly'?"
"Well, you see, Colonel, I was just sorter sloshin' around loose-like."
"Orderly!"said the officer.
A soldier entered the room, and, saluting his chief, stood waiting for orders.
"Take that man to the guard-house!"
"But — Colonel, — I," —
"Go on!"said the officer.
"But — I protest, Colonel, — I," —
"Not a word, sir! Take him out!"
The soldier took a gun which stood in the corner of the room, and motioned towards the door.
Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn took his way through it without more ado, and was marched to the guard-house at the point of the bayonet, and in constant apprehension lest the orderly's gun might explode.
CHAPTER VII
AN OLD "UNIONER"
Table of Contents
IN a little time another party was ushered into the colonel's quarters. He was a tall, lank countryman, clad in a suit of country jeans, which was at that time almost the exclusive wear. He had a long, scraggly beard, of a dull, sandy color, with streaks of gray; and, as he took off his hat and bowed deferentially, his head appeared quite bald. There was a shrewd look in his small gray eyes, and he seemed to approach the officer as one who had a right to speak freely with him. He coughed slightly, and put a hand to his gray beard with a pathetic gesture as he said, —
Colonel Servosse, I reckon."
Yes, sir. What can I do for you?" was the answer.
Wal, I don't know ez any thin'. I jes' thought I'd drop in an' chat a little." He coughed again, and added apologetically, "I'll set down, ef you'll allow."
Oh, certainly!" said the officer; but the stranger had seated himself without waiting for a reply.
I reckon you don't know me, Colonel. No? Wal! my name's Brown, — Jayhu Brown."
Jehu Brown! Not the man who piloted the boys that escaped from Salisbury prison through the mountains in eighteen sixty-four?"
Yes," with another cough, "I'm that man. You weren't in the crowd; were ye, Colonel?"
No; but I had
a friend who was, and he gave me an explicit injunction, if ever I came into this section to find you out, remember him to you, and, if I could serve you in any manner, to do so for his sake."
Thank ye. What might be his name?"
Edgarton — Captain Edgarton — of the Michigan Battery!"
Oh, yes! I mind him well now. A big-shouldered, likely man, with long hair curlin' in his neck. I cut it off, so that it shouldn't be a mark to foller us by. He's well, I hope." And the old man coughed again.
In excellent health. Is a colonel of artillery now, and chief of that arm, on the staff of General Davis of the Fourteenth Corps. He would be overjoyed to see you."
Thank ye, thank ye! So you'd heard of ole Jayhu before?" said he with another apologetic cough. "I thought I'd never seed ye. It's not often Jayhu Brown forgits a man he's once sot his eyes on, or his name either; an' I couldn't make out that I'd ever run across yours, though them prisoners was that thin an' wasted that the best man might forget to make 'em out arter they'd hed a few months of full feed." He coughed again, a sort of chuckling hack, which seemed to take the place of laughter with him.
You seem to be in bad health, Mr. Brown," remarked the colonel, alluding to his cough.
Wal, not partickelar," answered Brown. "[Hack, hack.] I never was very stout, though I've managed to pull through as many close places as most men. That was a monstrous close time going with them ar fellows from Salisbury. [Hack, hack.]"
Won't you have a little whiskey?" asked the colonel, mindful of what constituted hospitality in the region where he was.
Wal, now, Colonel, it's mighty kind of you to think on't I don't keer ef I du just drink the health of an old friend with ye [Hack, hack.]"
The orderly was called, glasses set out, and liquor, sugar, and water placed before the old man.
No, I thank ye!" said he: "none of them fixin's fer me. I allers did like my liquor clar, — clar an' straight." And he poured out a brimming goblet of the fiery liquid. "I never drinks liquor, as some folks does, just for the fun of the thing; but I takes a full charge, an' means business. A man at my day hain't got no time to fool away mixin' drinks. [Hack, hack, hack.]"
He placed his hand over his mouth, as he coughed, with a pathetic expression of countenance that suggested visions of the churchyard.
I don't often drink, — never, unless I need it, or feel a hankerin' fer it. Never was drunk in my life, and don't 'llow to be; but I've allers hearn that what was wuth doin' at all was wuth doin' well."
Again he pressed his hand to his breast with that peculiar, hacking cough, which seemed to be an apology, chuckle, or explanation, as served. His tall, slender form and solemnity of manner gave it a strange, almost ghastly, effect.
You seem to have a very troublesome cough, Mr. Brown," said the colonel.
Wal [Hack, hack], I reckon, now, it mout seem so to ye. [Hack, hack.] But do you know, Colonel, it's jest about the handiest thing I ever hed? I've seen the time I wouldn't take no money fer that cough, — no money! [Hack, hack.]"
How is that? I don't understand you," said the colonel.
No, I 'spect not. Wal, that ar cough's my exemption-papers. [Hack, hack, hack.]"
Your 'exemption papers!' I am still in the dark."
Wal, you see [Hack, hack, hack, apologetically], the Confederates used to git a notion every now and then that nigh about everybody was fit fer duty in the army, ye know [Hack, hack]; an', among the rest, ole Jayhu. [Hack, hack.] An' them on us that couldn't handily leave home, or, leastways, them that thought they couldn't, was mighty hard put up for excuses. [Hack, hack.] An' I, — wal, you see, they couldn't never find a Board, no matter who they put on it, that wouldn't say 'twas jest a waste of transportation tu send a man tu the front in my con-di-di-tion. [Hack, hack, hack.]"
And the old man coughed and groaned, and rolled his eyes as if the moment of dissolution could not be far off.
I never made no complaint, ye see; but they never wanted to hear my cough, when it was right holler, more'n once or twice, before they sent me home. [Hack, hack.] 'Twas a wonder, they said frequently, how I lived: an' so 'twas: but I've managed to pull through thus fer, tollable peart-like. [Hack, hack, hack, chucklingly.]"
The colonel laughed heartily at this recital; and the old man hacked approvingly at his mirth, but did not show a smile.
Some on 'em," he continued, "hez laid aside ther exemption-papers now thet the war's over; but mine hez sarved me so well, I believe I'll hang on tu it. [Hack, hack.] It's been right handy, an' may come in play agin. They wasn't all ez handy ez mine. Thar's my neighbor Mastin, now: he hed a powerful good paper; but it was onhandy, — mighty so. He got it up in a hurry; but mine was home-made, an' no sort of inconvenience. Ye see, Mastin was stout as a b'ar, — didn't even look delicate, which is a great help in such a thing. But, the mornin' of the day that he was ordered tu report fer examination, he come tu town with his head tied up ez if he'd hed the mullygrubs fer a coon's age. [Hack, hack.] Everybody asked him what was the matter, an' he told 'em he'd come in tu git the government doctors tu tell him. He'd been mighty bad off, he said, fer a long time, an' was tu pore to git a doctor hisself, an' was mighty glad he'd been draw'd, 'cause he 'llowed he'd git some treatment now, 'thout payin' for it. So, when they asked him afore the Board what was the matter, he said, arter some fussin', ez ef he couldn't hear good, that 'twas his ear was a troublin' him. An' one of the doctors pulled off the bandages, an' dug about half a bale o' cotting out; an', jest ez he pulled out the last plug, he turned away his head, an' hollered out, 'Git out o' here! yer head's rottener than Lazarus!' [Hack, hack.] Yer see, Mastin's wife hed dropped about half of a bad egg inter his ear that mornin'. [Hack, hack, hack.] 'Twas good papers enough, but onhandy. [Hack, hack.]"1
I should think so," said the colonel, when he could subdue his laughter.
But they wasn't all so," continued the old man. "That man you hed in here this mornin', an' sent off so unceremonious, he had some mighty good papers; but I see he's laid 'em aside, an' that perhaps is the reason he's in the guard-house now."
Whom do you mean? Not Colonel Vaughn!" said the colonel.
Thet's what he calls himself; but we mostly calls him 'Zeke Vaughn,' or more ginerally jist 'Zeke,' or 'hollerin' Zeke.'"
What did he want of exemption papers?"
Wal, — mostly for the same purpose we all on us did, I reckon!"
Why, I thought he was an original Secesh, a regular fire-eater!"
So he was at the start, an' in fact all the way through when it was a question of talkin' only; but when it come to fightin' he wa'n't fire-eater enough to want to deprive any one else of a fair show of the fire. [Hack, hack.] So he got on two sticks in the spring of sixty-two, an' hain't been off 'em sence, except to go to bed, till last week he went out on his legs into old Polly Richardson's field to keep the Yankees from gobblin' him up."
He hasn't been in the army, then?"
Been in the army! Why, bless yer soul! he hasn't seen a Yankee, alive or dead, since the thing begun, till he seed you; an' ef you treat him ez you hev to-day he's not like tu die tu git a sight of ye agin."
But isn't he a colonel?"
Wal, — not much, tu hurt. [Hack, hack.]"
Then how did he get the title?"
That would be hard tellin', Mister!"
A militia colonel, I suppose."
I doubt it. Never heard on't, ef he was. I think he jest picked it up ez about ten thousand more in the State hez. Got it by registerin' hisself ez sech at hotels, an' givin' fellers a drink tu holler fer 'Colonel Vaughn' at perlitical meetin's, an' then answerin' tu the call."
Well, what was his exemption-paper, as you call it?"
Oh! he jest hobbled around on two sticks, pretendin' tu be the worst drawd-up man with rheumatiz you ever seed, till you uns come. You served him right, an' I was glad on't."
In the afternoon several of the leading citizens of the town dropped in, and confirmed indirectly the old Unioner's report in reg
ard to the doughty colonel. They said he was loud-mouthed and imprudent; but there was not a bit of harm in him, and he was very much of a gentleman, and of a most respectable family.
So, towards night, he sent an order for the prisoner's release, accompanied by this note addressed to him: —
SIR, — Having learned the origin of your title, I have ordered your release, and beg to say that the government of the United States does not consider any parole necessary in your case. You are therefore at liberty to go anywhere you choose.
"Respectfully,
"COMFORT SERVOSSE,
"Colonel commanding Post."
The colonel supposed he had seen the last of "Colonel" Vaughn: but in this he reckoned without the "colonel;" for that worthy at once attached himself to his headquarters as a sort of supernumerary orderly and chief volunteer adviser of the young officer. He managed to get a fine team, and made himself indispensable in planning and executing the daily drives into the surrounding country, which the colonel and his officers so much enjoyed as a pleasing contrast to the restraints of a long and arduous campaign. He was a man of great local knowledge, and a sort of good-natured persistency, which induced the impression that he was nothing worse than a well-meaning bore, who was to be endured at all times for the sake of his occasional usefulness and universal cheerfulness.
Among other things talked of in these drives had been the subject of Northern immigration, the revival of business, and the re-organization of labor. On such occasions Vaughn had always clamorously contended that what the subjugated section most required was Northern capital, Northern energy, and Northern men to put it again on the high road to prosperity.
In one of their drives they had often passed a plantation known as the "Warrington Place," which had particularly attracted the attention of our Fool, and he had frequently expressed his admiration for it. Indeed, he had more than once ridden over the grounds, and examined the premises with that air of remonstrant anger at its neglected state which betrays the incipient interest of the would-be owner. This fact had not been unnoted by the observant Vaughn; and he had determined, if possible, to coin an honest penny out of the young colonel's admiration. He was a keen observer of human nature, and knew that it would not do to flush his game too quickly. He reasoned rightly, that, when the freshness of his return to old associations had worn away, the young man's mind would be sure to recur with something like longing to his recent surroundings. No active-minded man can settle down after four years of war to the every-day life of former years, without more than one twinge of restlessness and vague regret for the time when "boots and saddles" ushered in the ever-changing days.
A Fool's Errand & Bricks without Straw Page 3
