The bridegroom led the flight, on his red roan steed of might;And the bride lay on his arm, still, as tho' she feared no harm,Smiling out into the night."Fearest thou?" he said at last. "Nay," she answered him in haste,"Not such death as we could find; only life with one behind,Ride on—fast as fear—ride fast."
The bridegroom led the flight, on his red roan steed of might;And the bride lay on his arm, still, as tho' she feared no harm,Smiling out into the night."Fearest thou?" he said at last. "Nay," she answered him in haste,"Not such death as we could find; only life with one behind,Ride on—fast as fear—ride fast."
I found one listener, more appreciative than the wild pine-barren, that surely had never been waked by rhythmic sound since the birthday of Time. Falcon pricked his ears, and champed his bit cheerily, as he mended his pace without warning of spur. As for myself—the pure, earnest Saxon diction proved a more efficient "comforter" than "the many-colored scarf round my neck, wrought by the same kind white hands beyond the sea;" hands that, even now, I venture to salute with the lips of a grateful spirit, in all humility and honor.
So the way did not seem so long that brought us through the straggling, dim-lighted streets of Grantsville, up to the porch of its single hostelry, where, after some parley, I found a fair chance of supper and bed, and a heavy-handed Orson to help me in racking up Falcon.
It would be very unfair to draw a comparison between an ordinary roadside inn in England and its synonym up in the country of America; a better parallel is a speculative railway tavern verging always on bankruptcy. There is an utter absence of the old-fashioned coziness which enables you easily to dispense with luxuries. You enter at once into a stifling, stove heated bar-room, defiled with all nicotine abominations, where, for the first few minutes, you draw your breath hard, and then settle down into a dull, uneasy stupor, conscious of nothing except a weight tightening around your temples like a band of molten iron. That is the only guest-chamber, save a parlor in the rear, the ordinary withdrawing-room and nursery of the family, where you take your meals in an atmosphere impregnated with babies and their concomitants. The fare is not so bad, after all, and monotony does not prevent chicken and ham fixings from being very acceptable after a long, fasting ride. It blew a gale that night from the northwest, and the savage wind—laden with sheets of snow—hurled itself against eaves and gable till the crazy tenement quivered from roof-tree to foundation beams. I went to my unquiet rest early, chiefly to avoid an importunate reveler in the bar-room, who "wished to put to the stranger a few small questions," troublesome to answer, that I had not patience to evade.
It was high noon on the following day when I set forth again. The snow had ceased to fall two hours before, but I wished to give it time to settle; besides, any tracks would greatly help me over the rough cross-country road I had to travel. My route-bill enjoined me to call at a certain house where the lane turned off from the highway, to obtain further instructions. These were duly given me by the farmer, an elderly man, with a wild, gray beard, vague, red eyes, and a stumbling incoherence of speech. He repeatedly professed himself "pure and clear as the dew of Heaven." These characteristics applied probably to his principles—patriotic or private; they certainly did not to his directions, which led me two miles astray, before I had ridden twice that distance; no trifling error, when you had to struggle back over steep, broken ground, through drifts fully girth deep.
However, as evening closed in, I "made" Accident—the point where I ought to have found Shipley. He was a very good guide—when you caught him—but such a perfectignis fatuus, when once out of sight, that I was not at all surprised at hearing he had gone on, the night before, to a farm-house—more safe and secluded, certainly—about sixteen miles off. My informant offered to pilot me thither so soon as it should be thoroughly dark. This offer I accepted at once, only hoping that Falcon would, like myself, consider it "all in the day's work."
I shall never forget my halt at Accident, if only on account of the martyrdom I endured at the hands of some small, pale boys, children of the house wherein I abode. I had just settled myself to smoke a meditative pipe before supper, when they came in, with a formidable air of business about all the three; they drew up a little bench, exactly opposite to my rocking-chair, fixing themselves, and me, into a deliberate stare. Every now and then the spokes-boy of the party—he was the oldest, evidently, but his face was smaller and whiter, and his eyes were more like little black beads than those of either of his brethren—would fire off a point-blank pistol-shot of a question; when this was answered or evaded, they resumed their steady stare. I was lapsing rapidly into a helpless imbecility under the horrible fascination, when their mother summoned me to supper; they vanished then, with a derisive chuckle, to which they were certainly entitled: for they had utterly discomfited the stranger within their gates.
One more long night-ride over steep, broken forest-ground—enlivened by certain ultra-marine reminiscences of my guide, who had been a sort of land-buccaneer in California—brought us to the farm, far in the bosom of the hills, where I found Shipley, buried in a deep sleep. The sole intelligence I heard that night related to the roan: the enfeebled constitution of that unlucky animal had given way under rough travel and wild weather; he was reported to be dying; hearing which, I could scarcely deny him great good sense, however I might lament his lack of endurance.
"The sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep," applies, of course, to horses as well as hard-worked men.
My new host was a thorough specimen of the upland yeoman—half hunter, half farmer, and all over a cattle-dealer. Deer and bears still abound in those hills, though the latter are not so plentiful as they were a score of years back, when B—— and his father slew thirty-three in a single season: in one conflict he lost two fingers, from his hunting-knife slipping while he was locked in the death-grapple.
The next morning broke wild and stormy, but the good man rode out on the scout, to see how the land lay round Oakland; while he was absent we talked over our plans, and looked over his cattle to find a remount for my guide. The roan's malady had not been exaggerated; he was indeed in a miserable plight, suffering, I thought, from acute internal inflammation. After dinner we had some very pretty rifle practice, at short distances, with a huge, clumsy weapon. I saw a boy of sixteen put five consecutive bullets into the circumference of a half-crown at seventy-five yards.
Late in the afternoon our host returned, and we came to terms for rather a neat four-year-old filly: neither her condition nor strength was equal to the work before her; but Shipley thought that, nursing, she would carry him through; and once in Secessia, my interest in the purchase would cease. The roan was, of course, left behind, to be killed or cured. His chances of life seemed then so faint (though the hill-farmers are no mean farriers) that I thought he was fairly valued in the deal at thirty dollars. It appeared that there was increase of vigilance throughout the frontier-guard: in Oakland itself a full company was stationed, and strong pickets were thrown out all around, but B—— felt confident he could pilot us through these.
We started soon after nightfall, in the midst of a sharp sleet-storm, but we dared not delay to give the weather time to clear, for a domiciliary visit from the Federals was by no means improbable. The old hunter had not boasted too much of his local knowledge. He led on, through winding byways and forest paths—sometimes striking straight across the clearings—till the lights of Oakland glimmered in our rear, and thecordonof pickets was threaded; nor did he leave us till we had reached a point whence a straight track—well known to Shipley—would bring us down on the north branch of the Potomac. Thenceforward, my guide and I rode on alone: the moon shone out, broad and bright, in a cloudless sky, as we climbed the wooded spurs that lie as outworks before the main range of the Alleghanies; the silvery transparent shimmer of the frost-work on the feathery for-sprays, was one of the most remarkable effects of reflected light that I can remember. The snow was more than fetlock-deep where it lay level, and the filly tired fearfully towards morning. She could not walk near up to Falcon's long, even stride. I had to halt perpetually, to wait for my companion; but in the tenth weary hour we sighted the crazy bridge that spans the North Branch, and by four, A. M., on Good Friday, our steeds
Might graze at easeBeyond the brood Borysthenes.
Might graze at easeBeyond the brood Borysthenes.
Rock, and wood, and water, were all looking their best, under a brilliant sun, when I rose, but the object on which I gazed with most satisfaction, was the accursed river circumvented at last. The solitary green things I could find actually on the bank, were some sprigs of cypress: these I gathered with due formula of lustration; but theabsit omenwas spoken in vain.
Then I wrote two or three letters, inclosing in each the cypress, token of partial success; but these never reached their destinations: they were prudently suppressed, three days later, by the person to whose discretion I trusted to forward them. My correspondence being cleared off, and Falcon thoroughly groomed, I fell back upon the resources of the little town for amusement, and lighted on one scrap of light literature, the fragment of a nameless magazine. In this there were some good, quiet verses, that I thought worth transcribing, were it only for the incongruity of the place in which I found them: perhaps they are already well known; butIam ignorant even of the author's name.
MAUD.
Yes, she always loved the sea,God's half uttered mystery;With the murmur of its myriad shells,And never-ceasing roar:It was well, that when she died,They made Maud a grave besideThe blue pulses of the tide,'Neath, the crags of Elsinore.One chill red leaf falling down—Many russet autumns gone;A lone ship with folded wingsLay sleeping off the lea:Silently she came by night,Folded wings of murky white,Weary with their lengthened flight;Way-worn nursling of the sea.Eager peasants thronged the sands;There were tears and clasping hands;But one sailor, heeding none,Passed thro' the churchyard-gate:Only "Maud," the headstone read,—Only Maud, was't all it said?Why didhethen bow his head,Moaning, "Late, mine own, too late!"And they called her cold—God knows,Under quiet winter's snows,The invisible hearts of flowersGrow up to blossoming:And the hearts judged calm and cold,Might, if all their tale were told,Seem cast in a gentler mould,Full of love and life and spring.
Yes, she always loved the sea,God's half uttered mystery;With the murmur of its myriad shells,And never-ceasing roar:It was well, that when she died,They made Maud a grave besideThe blue pulses of the tide,'Neath, the crags of Elsinore.
One chill red leaf falling down—Many russet autumns gone;A lone ship with folded wingsLay sleeping off the lea:Silently she came by night,Folded wings of murky white,Weary with their lengthened flight;Way-worn nursling of the sea.
Eager peasants thronged the sands;There were tears and clasping hands;But one sailor, heeding none,Passed thro' the churchyard-gate:Only "Maud," the headstone read,—Only Maud, was't all it said?Why didhethen bow his head,Moaning, "Late, mine own, too late!"
And they called her cold—God knows,Under quiet winter's snows,The invisible hearts of flowersGrow up to blossoming:And the hearts judged calm and cold,Might, if all their tale were told,Seem cast in a gentler mould,Full of love and life and spring.
We were in the saddle again an hour before sunset, our next point being a log-hut on the very topmost ridge of the Alleghanies, wherein dwelt a man said to be better acquainted than any other in the country round, with the passes leading into the Shenandoah Valley. We ascertained, beyond a doubt, that a company was stationed at Greenland Gap, close to which it was absolutely necessary we should pass; but with a thoroughly good local guide, we might fairly count on the same luck which had brought us safe round Oakland. Night had fallen long before we came down on the South River, a mere mountain torrent, at ordinary seasons; but now, flowing along with the broad dignity of a swift, smooth river. My guide's mare wanted shoeing, and there chanced to be a rude forge close to the ford, which is the only crossing-place since the bridge was destroyed last autumn by the Confederates. It was important that the local pilot should be secured as soon as possible (he was constantly absent from home), so I rode on alone, with directions that were easy to follow.
The smith, whose house stood but three hundred yards or so off, had told me that I had to strike straight across the ford, for a gap in the dense wood cloaked by the opposite bank. It was disagreeably dark at the water's edge, for the low moon was utterly hidden behind a thicket of cypress and pine; but I did make out a narrow openingexactlyopposite; for this I headed unhesitatingly. We lost footing twice; but a mass of tangled timber above broke the current—nowhere very strong—and the water shoaled quickly under the further shore; the bottom was sound, too, just there, though the bank was steep; and Falcon answered a sharp drive of the spurs with a gallant spring, that landed him on a narrow shelf of slippery clay, hedged in on three sides by brush absolutely impenetrable. There was not room to stand firm, much less to turn safely; before I had time to think what was to be done, there was a backward slide, and a flounder; in two seconds more, I had drawn myself with some difficulty from under my horse, who lay still on his side, too wise, at first, to struggle unavailingly. If long hunting experience makes a man personally rather indifferent about accidents, it also teaches him when there is danger to the animal he rides; looking at Falcon's utter helplessness and the constrained twist of his hind legs, which I tried in vain to straighten, I began to have uncomfortable visions of ricked backs and strained sinews: I was on the wrong side of the river, too, for help; though even the rope of a Dublin Garrison "wrecker" would have helped but little then. Thrice the good horse made a desperate attempt to stand up, and thrice he sank back again with the hoarse sigh, between pant and groan—half breathless, half despairing—that every hunting man can remember, to his cost. It was impossible to clear the saddle-bags without cutting them; I had drawn my knife for this purpose, when a fourth struggle (in which his fore-hoofs twice nearly struck me down), set Falcon once more on his feet—trembling, and drenched with sweat, but materially uninjured. I contrived to scramble into the saddle, and we plunged into the ford again, heading up stream, till we struck the real gap, which was at least thirty yards higher up. It is ill trusting to the accuracy of a native'scarte du pays. Another league brought me to the way-side hut where I was instructed to ask for fresh guidance.
"Right over the big pasture, to the bars at the corner—then keep the track through the wood to the 'improvements'—and the house was close by." Such were the directions of the good-natured mountaineer, who offered himself to accompany me: but this I would by no means allow.
Now, an up-country pasture, freshly cleared, is a most unpleasant place to cross, after nightfall: the stumps are all left standing, and felled trees lie all about—thick as boulders on a Dartmoor hillside; then, however, a steady moon was shining, and Falcon picked his way daintily through the timber, hopping lightly, now and then, over a trunk bigger than the rest, but never losing the faint track: we got over the high bars, too, safely, hitting them hard. The wood-path led out upon a clearing, after a while: here I was fairly puzzled. There was no sign of human habitation, except a rough hut, some hundred yards to my right, that I took to be an outlying cattle-shed: there was not the glimmer of a light anywhere.
I have not yet written the name of the man I was seeking: contrasts of time and place made it so very remarkable, that I venture to break the rule of anonyms. Mortimer Nevil—who would have dreamt of lighting on, perhaps, the two proudest patronymics of baronial England, in a log hut crowning the ridge of the Alleghanies?
While I wandered hither and thither in utter bewilderment, my ear caught a sound as of one hewing timber; I rode for it, and soon found that the hovel I had passed thrice was the desired homestead; truly, it was fitting that the possible descendant of the king-maker should reveal himself by the rattle of his axe.
It is needless to say, that I was received courteously and kindly. The mountaineer promised his services readily; albeit, he spoke by no means confidently of our chances of getting through; the company of Western Virginians that had recently marched into Greenland, was said to be unusually vigilant; only the week before, a professional blockade-runner had been captured, who had made his way backwards and forwards repeatedly, and was thoroughly conversant with the ground. The attempt could not possibly be made till the following evening; till then, Nevil promised to do his best to make Falcon and me comfortable.
I shall not easily forget my night in the log hut; it consisted of a single room, about sixteen feet by ten; in this lived and slept the entire family—numbering the farmer, his wife, mother, and two children. When they spoke, confidently, of finding me a bed, I fell into a great tremor and perplexity; the problem seemed to me not more easy to solve than that of the ferryman, who had to carry over a fox, a goose, and a cabbage; it was physically impossible that the large-limbed Nevil and myself should be packed into the narrow non-nuptial couch; the only practicable arrangement involved my sharing its pillow with the two infants or with the ancient dame; and at the bare thought of either alternative, I shivered from head to heel. At last, with infinite difficulty, I obtained permission to sleep on my horse-rug spread on the floor, with my saddle for a bolster; when this point was once settled, I spent the evening very contentedly, basking in the blaze of the huge oaken logs; if stinted in all else, the mountaineer has always large luxury of fuel. I was curious to find out if my host knew anything of his own lineage; but he could tell me nothing further, than that his grandfather was the first colonist of the family; oddly enough, though, in his library of three or four books, was an ancient work on heraldry; his father had been much addicted to studying this, and was said to have been learned in the science.
At about ten, P. M., Shipley knocked at the door, fearfully wet and cold; the smith had accompanied him to the ford, so that he could not go astray, but his filly hardly struggled through the deep, strong water. Our host found quarters for him, in the log hut of a brother, who dwelt a short half-mile off.
I spent all the fore-part of the next day in lounging about, watching the sluggish sap drain out of the sugar-maples, occasionally falling back on the female society of the place; for the Nevil had gone forth on the scout. It was not very lively: my hostess was kindness itself, but the worn, weary look never was off her homely face; nor did I wonder at this when I heard that, besides their present troubles and hardships, they had lost four children in one week of the past winter from diphtheria; it was sad to see how painfully the mother clung to the two that death had left her; she could not bear them out of her sight for an instant. A very weird-looking cummer was the grand-dame—with a broken, piping voice—tremulous hands, and jaws that, like the stage witch wife's, ever munched and mumbled. She seldom spoke aloud, except to groan out a startlingly sudden ejaculation of "Oh, Lord," or "O dear;" these widows' mites cast into the conversational treasury did not greatly enhance its brilliancy.
The blue sky grew murky-white before sundown, and night fell intensely cold. The Nevil who guided us on foot had much the best of it, and I often dismounted, to walk by his side. If he who sang the praises of the "wild northwester" had been with us then, I doubt if he would not have abated of his enthusiasm. The bitter snow-laden blast, even where thick cover broke its vicious sweep, was enough to make the blood stand still in the veins of the veriest Viking. After riding about ten miles, we left the rough paths we had hitherto pursued, and struck, across country. For two hours or more we forced our way slowly and painfully through bush and brake—through marshy rills and rocky burns—demolishing snake-fences whenever we broke out on a clearing. Shipley led his mare almost the whole way; and I, thinking the saddle safest and pleasantest conveyance over ordinarily rough ground, was compelled to dismount repeatedly.
It was about one o'clock in the morning of Sunday, the 5th of April: we were then crossing some tilled lands, intersected by frequent narrow belts of woodland. Our course ran parallel to the mountain-road leading from Greenland to Petersburg; the former place was then nearly three miles behind us, and our guide felt certain that we had passed the outermost pickets. It was very important that we should get housed before break of day; so we were on the point of breaking into the beaten track again, and had approached it within fifty yards, when suddenly, out of the dark hollow on our left, there came a hoarse shout:
"Stop. Who are you? Stop or I'll fire."
Now I have heard a challenge or two in my time, and felt certain at once that even, a Federal picket would have employed a more regular formula. The same idea struck Shipley too.
"Come on," he said, "they're only citizens."
So on we went, disregarding a second and third summons in the same words. We both looked round for the Nevil, but keener eyes would have sought for him in vain; at the first sound of voices he had plunged into the dark woods above us, where a footman, knowing the country, might defy any pursuit. Peace and joy go with him! By remaining he would only have ruined himself, without profiting us one jot.
Then three revolver-shots were fired in rapid succession. To my question if he was hit, my guide answered cheerily in the negative; neither of us guessed that one bullet had struck his mare high up in the neck; though the wound proved mortal the next day, it was scarcely perceptible, and bled altogether internally. One of those belts of woodland crossed our track about two hundred yards ahead; we crashed into this over a gap in the snake-fence; but the barrier on the further side was high and intact. Shipley had dismounted, and had nearly made a breach by pulling down the rails, when, the irregular challenge was repeated directly in our front, and we made out a group of three dark figures about thirty-five yards off.
"Give your names, and where you are going, or I'll fire."
"He's very fond of firing," I said in an undertone to Shipley, and then spoke out aloud. (I saw at once the utter impossibility of escape, even if we could have found our way back, without quitting our horses, which I never dreamt of.)
"If you'll come here, I'll tell you all about it."
I could not have advanced if I had wished it; in broad day the fence would have been barely practicable. I spoke those exact words in a tone purposely measured and calm, so that they should not be mistaken by our assailants: I have good reason to remember them, for they were the last I ever uttered on American ground as a free agent. They had hardly passed my lips, when a rifle cracked; I felt a dull numbing blow inside my left knee, and a sensation as if hot sealing-wax was trickling there; at the same instant, Falcon dropped under me—without a start or struggle, or sound besides a horrible choking sob—shot right through the jugular vein.
Before I had struggled clear of my horse, Shipley's hand was on my shoulder, and his hurried whisper in my ear.
"What shall we do? Will you surrender?"
Now, though I knew already that I had escaped with a flesh-wound from a spent bullet, I felt that I could not hope to make quick tracks that night. Certain reasons—wholly independent of personal convenience—made me loth to part with my saddle-bags; besides this, I own I shrank from the useless ignominy of being hunted down like a wild beast on the mountains. So I answered, rather impatiently:
"What the deuce would you have one do—with a dead horse and a lamed leg? Shift for yourself as well as you can."
Without another word I walked towards the party in our front, with an impulse I cannot now define; it could scarcely have been seriously aggressive, for a hunting-knife was my solitary weapon; but for one moment Iwasidiot enough to regret my lost revolver, I was traveling as a neutral and civilian, with no other object than my private ends; the slaughter of an American citizen, on his own ground, would have been simply murder, both by moral and martial law, and I heard afterwards that our Legation could not have interfered to prevent condign punishment. But reason is dumb sometimes, when the instincts of the "old Adam" are speaking. I suppose I am not more truculent than my fellows; but since then, in all calmness and sincerity, I have thanked God for sparing me one strong temptation.
Before I had advanced ten paces the same voice challenged again.
"Stop where you are—if you come a step nearer, I'll shoot."
I was in no mood to listen to argument, much less to an absurd threat.
"You may shoot and be d——d," I said. "You've got the shooting all your own way to-night. I carry no fire-arms,"—and walked on.
Now, I record these words—conscious that they were thoroughly discreditable to the speaker—simply because I mentioned them in my examination before the Judge Advocate (after he had insisted on the point of verbal accuracy), and from his office emanated a paragraph, copied into all the Washington journals, stating that I had cursed my captors fluently. I affirm, on my honor, that this was the solitary imprecation that escaped me from first to last.
So I kept on advancing: they didnotfire, and I don't suppose they would have done so, even if they had had time to reload. I soon got near enough to discern that among the three men there was not a trace of uniform; they were evidently farmers, and roughly dressed "at that." So I opened parley in no gentle terms, requiring their authority for what they had done, and promising that they should answer it, if there was such a thing as law in these parts.
"Well, if we ain't soldiers," the chief speaker said, "we're Home Guards, and that's the same thing here; we've as much authority as we want to back us out. Why didn't you stop, and tell us who you are, and where you're going?"
By this time I was cool enough to reflect, and act with a purpose. For my own, as well as for his sake, I was most anxious that Shipley should escape. I knew they would not find a scrap of compromising paper on me; but he was a perfect post-carrier of dangerous documents, and a marked man besides—altogether a suspicious companion for an innocent traveler. So I began to discuss several points with my captors in a much calmer tone—demonstrating that from the irregularity of their challenge we could not suppose it came from any regular picket—that there were many horse-thieves and marauders about, so that it behoved travelers to be cautious—that it would have been impossible to have explained our names, object, and destination in a breath, even if they had given more time for such reply: finally, making a virtue of necessity, I consented to accompany them to the regular out-post of Greenland, stipulating that I should have a horse to carry me and my saddle-bags; for my knee was still bleeding, and stiffening fast.
All this debate took ten minutes at least, during which time my captors seemed to have forgotten my companion's existence, though they must have seen his figure cross the open ground when they first fired. Long before we got back to the horses, Shipley had "vamosed" into the mountain, carrying his light luggage with him; only some blank, envelopes were lying about, evidently dropped in the hurry of removal.
I knelt down by Falcon's side, and lifted his head out of the dark red pool in which it lay. Even in the dim light I could see the broad, bright eye glazing: the death-pang came very soon; he was too weak to struggle; but a quick, convulsive shiver ran through all the lower limbs, and, with a sickening hoarse gurgle in the throat, the last breath was drawn.
My good, stout, patient horse! Few and evil were the days of his pilgrimage with me; but we had begun to know and like each other well. I cannot remember to have borne a heavier heart, than when I turned away from his corpse, half shrouded in a winding-sheet of drifting snow-flakes—seeing nothing certain in my own future, save frustrated projects and exhausted resources.
I threw my saddle-bags across Shipley's saddle, and rode slowly down, three miles, into Greenland. The filly's head drooped wearily, as she faltered on through the half-frozen mud and water; but no one guessed, till daylight broke, that she had then got her death-wound.
When we reached the hovel that was the headquarters of the detachment, only two or three soldiers were lounging around the fire; but the news of a capture roused most of the sleepers, and the low, dim room was soon filled, suffocatingly, with a squalid crowd, in and out of uniform: prominent, in the midst, stood the long, lank, half-dressed figure of the lieutenant in command. Neither he nor his men were absolutely uncourteous, when they once recognized that I was not a Confederate spy, or a professional blockade-runner; but they were exultant, of course, and disposed to indulge in a rough jocularity, during the necessary inspection of my person and baggage.
The surgeon was a coarse edition of Maurice Quill; when he had examined my knee, and dressed it—not unskillfully—(the conical point of "the Sharp's" bullet had just reached the bone), he took great interest in the search of my saddle-bags; desiring to be informed of the precise cost of each article. When I declined to satisfy him, he became exceedingly witty—not to say sarcastic.
"Here's a mighty curious sort of a traveler, boys; as don't know what nothing costs that belongs to him, nor how he come by it," &c.
Now I was getting tired, and bored with the whole business, and stifled with the close atmosphere—laden with every graveolent horror; besides, I had not escaped from London "chaff" and Parisianpersiflage, to be mocked by a wild Virginian. So I said, quite gravely:
"It's very simple; but I don't wonder it puzzles you. You have to pay, when you buy, out here, I dare say,Ihaven't paid for anything for twenty years. But, if I had known I was going to meetyou, before I came away I would have—looked at the bills."
Perhaps my face did not look like jesting; anyhow, he took every word for earnest, and remained silent for some time; ruminating, I suppose, on the grand simplicity of such a system of commerce.
This occupied their attention for a considerable time; when a partydidstart in pursuit of my companion, under the guidance of Dolley—the man who had fired the last fatal shot—I reflected, with some satisfaction, that the fugitive had a long two hours' "law," The guard-room cleared gradually; and, before daybreak, I got some brief, broken rest—supine on the narrowest of benches, with my crossed arms for a pillow.
In spite of wound, and weariness, and discomfiture, I have spent a drearier time than the morning of that same Sunday. After the first awkward feeling had passed off, my captors showed themselves civil, and almost friendly, after their fashion. They were very like big school-boys—those honest Volunteers—prone to rough jokes and rude horse-play among themselves, which the commanding officer not only sanctioned, but personally mingled with: good-fellowship reigned supreme, to the utter subversion of dignity and discipline.
There were some lithe, active figures among them, well fitted for the long forced marches for which both the Northern and Southern infantry is renowned; and two or three raw-boned giants, topping six feet by some inches; but not one powerful or athletic frame: in many trials of strength, in wrist and arm, I did not come across one formidable muscle.
About three o'clock—the weather had become bright and almost warm before noon—I was lounging about on the bank of the trout-stream that ran past the door, with my guard at my shoulder, when I saw a group of several figures approaching. When they came nearer, one man lifted his cap on his bayonet's point, and the others shouted. I could not catch the words; but I guessed the truth: they had run down Shipley, after all. He was so utterly exhausted, both in mind and body, when first brought in, that he could hardly speak: he was not of a hardy constitution, and he had undergone fatigue enough—to say nothing of the fearful weather—to have broken down a more practiced pedestrian. Dolley's party were not the actual captors, though they were hard on the fugitive's trail; another squad, sent to search for some Confederates supposed to be hidden in the neighborhood, had come upon some tracks in the snow, leading to a farm-house, and there discovered my unhappy guide, sleeping the sleep of exhaustion. This was twelve miles from the spot where we parted, and he had struggled on till strength would carry him no further.
The lieutenant's face grew longer than Nature had left it, as he perused, one after another, the documents found on Shipley. Though his demeanor towards myself remained quite amicable, it was clear that he judged me, to a certain extent, by my associations; and his simple joviality was somewhat clouded by an uneasy sense of responsibility. Nevertheless, the evening passed quickly enough round the guard-room fire; the men sang some simple chants, and the deep, rough voices sounded not unmusically. Once more, I preferred a single plank to the nameless abominations of the bunks, above and below stairs; and consequently awoke with aching bones, but flesh intact.
The next morning we bade farewell to the Greenland detachment, in no unkindness. I was really sorry when I read in the papers, a month later, of their capture by Imboden's division, after an obstinate defense in the church, which was burned over their heads before the survivors would surrender.
New Creek, the headquarters of Colonel Mulligan's brigade, was our destination. We had a sufficient escort, and besides, the valiant Dolley accompanied us, in the character of chief witness, as well as chief captor. His "get up" was very remarkable, consisting of a pair of brown overalls, an old blue uniform coat, about three sizes too small for him, and the very tallest black hat, that, as I think, I ever beheld. Slight as my wound was, it had quite crippled me for the time; a farmer, however, for a moderate consideration, found me a pony that saved my legs, at much peril to its own: for it stumbled miraculously often. Shipley began by walking, but was glad to avail himself of a chance animal half way. Dolley and two of his friends were mounted; the soldiers kept pace with us gallantly on foot.
When we started, I bore no sort of malice to that same Dolley; but, before we had got through the twenty-three miles that brought us to New Creek, I hated him intensely, as one hates the man—friend or foe—that bores you to death's door. That he should be puffed up with vainglory, was neither unlikely nor unreasonable. His own shots were the only ones he had ever seen fired in anger. It was natural, too, that he should over-estimate the importance of his capture; he had suffered from the war, in purse, if not in person, and had lost two sons in the Northern army from disease, one of whom had been imprisoned for six months by the Confederates. After his first excitement had passed away, he bore himself not unkindly towards me; though, at Greenland, he did greatly bewail the darkness that had caused him to take a costly life instead of a worthless one; Falcon would have fetched five hundred dollars in those parts; even at my own valuation,Icould not have been appraised so highly. So I listened to him twice or thrice with great patience, while he told how well he had deserved of his country; but, when he persisted in repeating the same tale, not only to me, but to every creature he encountered, the iteration became simply "damnable." He spoke of his dead sons in the same pompous tones of self-exultation with which he reckoned all other items standing to the credit side of his patriotism. Fortunately for my equanimity, I was not present when he told his own tale at New Creek; it must have been a grand romance of history.
Yet my poor Dolley made a bad night's work of it after all. His three days' fame in local papers cost him dear. Immediately on getting out of prison, I heard—not without a savage satisfaction—that Imboden's horsemen had harried his homestead thoroughly in their last raid; Dolley only saving his life by "running like a hare." The Southerners know everything that goes on near their lines, and are wonderfully regular in settling scores with any registered debtor.
At New Creek I was confronted with Colonel Mulligan. His attire was anything but military; black overalls crammed into high butcher boots, a Garibaldi shirt of the brightest emerald green; but his bearing was unmistakably that of a soldier and gentleman. He treated me with the utmost courtesy. I also met with no small kindness from the adjutant of the artillery corps, an old Crimean. Unluckily, Colonel Mulligan could not deal with my case, so, after a brief examination, and liberal refreshment, Shipley and myself were forwarded by rail to Wheeling, two hundred miles further west, where the district Provost Marshal was stationed.
We reached Wheeling in the early morning, and there were indulged with a most welcome bath, and breakfast. Soon afterwards we stood in the presence of the Provost Marshal, Major Darr.
The figure of this functionary certainly resembles, in its square obesity, that of the great Emperor in his latter days. Possibly for this reason, Major Darr affects a Napoleonic curtness and decision of speech. Nevertheless, he was amenable to reason, and on my agreeing to pay the expenses of an escort, consented to forward me to Baltimore, to be identified. Shipley was committed at once to the military prison.
It was a long, weary journey of twenty-three hours, and I was so harassed by want of sleep, that I scarcely appreciated some really fine scenery on the Laurel and Chestnut ranges. We reached Baltimore about three, A. M., and I dispatched two notes immediately, one to the British Consul, another to my most intimate acquaintance in the city.
Both came down without delay, proffering all possible assistance. I had a regularleveebefore my guards conveyed me to the office of the Chief of Gen. Schenck's staff, to whose mercies I was consigned. Colonel Cheesebrough was civil enough; but, in his turn, professed himself unable to deal with my case, and referred it to the General. Cæsar was not less dilatory than Felix. I never saw the potentate before whose nod Baltimore trembles (he was unwell, I believe, or unusually sulky), but I underwent a lengthened interrogatory at the mouth of a very young and girlish-looking aide-de-camp. In the midst of this, rather an absurd incident occurred. General Schenck's headquarters are at the Eutaw House. The fair daughter of a house at which I had been very intimate—was to be married that same day, and at that same house the bridegroom's party were staying. Suddenly, through an opening door, two or three of these my friends debouched upon the scene. They had not heard one word of my misadventures, so that they were naturally rather surprised at finding me there, in such company. I really think that the sympathy lavished upon me in that brief interview was not so refreshing as the palpable discomfort of the unhappyaide, under a galling glance-fire maintained by Southern eyes, not careful to dissemble their hatred and scorn.
I was so perfectly used to beingballotteby this time, that it did not in anywise surprise me, to hear that I was to be sent down to Washington, to be examined by the Judge-Advocate-General. There was so much delay in making out commitment papers that we lost the afternoon train. No other started before eight, P. M., so that, by the time we reached Washington, all offices would have been closed, and we must have spent the night in the Central Guard-house. I had heard enough of the foul abominations of that refuge for the imprisoned destitute, to make me determined never to cross the threshold unless under actual coercion. I said as much to the cavalry sergeant who had me in charge; suggesting that, by taking the four A. M. train on the following morning, we should arrive hours before the Provost Marshal's or Judge Advocate's offices were open. He was civilly rational about the whole question, and, on my parole not to attempt escape, readily consented to accompany me to a house, where I was more at home than anywhere else in Baltimore. There I remained till long after midnight: though none of us were in the best of spirits or tempers, that brief return to social life was an indescribable rest and restorative. I mention this unimportant incident chiefly because one of the charges brought against me afterwards was founded on "my having bribed my escort, and spent the whole night at the house of a notorious Secessionist." The poor sergeant was reduced to the ranks for dereliction of duty; and I the more regret this, because his good-nature wasnotmercenary.
We reached Washington about six, A. M. No offices were open before nine. I employed the interval, partly in breakfasting with what appetite I might, partly in a visit to Percy Anderson, whose slumbers I was compelled to break by the most disagreeable of all morning apparitions—a friend in trouble. I could only just stay long enough to receive condolences, and promises of all possible assistance—private or diplomatic; then I betook myself to the Provost Marshal's office, which I did not enter; thence to that of the Judge-Advocate-General.
I look back upon that interview with feelings of unmitigated self-contempt, I confess to have been utterly deluded by that sleek official's shambonhommie; so that when he prayed me to be frank and explicit—"Anything that you say, I shall receive with perfect confidence," &c., &c.,—I did strive, to the best of my powers, to forget no important incident or word relative to my conduct since I landed in America; only making reservations where confession might implicate others. An artless boy might easily have been gulled by the portly presence, the unctuous voice, and eyes that twinkled merrily through gold-rimmed glasses; but no man of mature age can remember such a gross mistake without a hot flush of shame.
I have little cause to love the Federal Government; but I bear no grudge against any individual Unionist with the solitary exception of the Judge-Advocate, simply because to him alone can I trace deliberately unfair dealing and intentional discourtesy. While I was in prison I sent him two letters, at long intervals; though I again committed a gross error, in addressing him as one gentleman would write to another, I cannot think this wholly excuses his coolly ignoring both communications. On the 21st of May, Major Turner's duty brought him to Carroll place, and he remained there two full hours: the superintendent, who had conferred with the prison surgeon on the state of my health, pressed him strongly to see me. The Judge-Advocate refused, on the ground that the case was already decided, and would be settled in a day or so, at furthest; that same afternoon he departed on a fortnight's leave, knowing right well that no steps could be taken in the matter till his return. Officials are justified, I suppose, in avoiding all waste of time or trouble; perhaps itwasmore simple to lie to a subordinate than to risk the short discussion that an interview would have involved. I cannot guess at the especial reason which caused me to be honored by Major Turner's enmity; certain it is that he wasnotneutral or indifferent with regard to my case, but exerted himself very successfully to thwart any measures tending to its decision or adjustment.
During the latter days of my imprisonment, I indulged more than once in a day-dream, not the less pleasant because it is wildly improbable. Should the changes and chances of this mortal life ever bring me face to face with that jovial Judge, on any neutral ground, by my faith and honor I will say in his ear five short words not hard to understand. On the steps of Carroll place, when the door opened to set me free, I sent Major Turner a message much to this effect. I devoutly hope it was delivered with the "verbal accuracy" of which he is so remarkably fond.
At the conclusion of the long examination, the Judge-Advocate left me for a short time to obtain instructions—possibly a warrant—from Secretary Stanton; on his return he told me that nothing could be decided until Shipley's case had been inquired into; he assured me that the latter should be telegraphed for at once from Wheeling; and so, with the pleasantest of smiles, and a jest on his lips, handed me over to Colonel Baker, who was already in waiting. This official's overt functions are those of a District Provost Marshal—in reality, he is the Chief of Secret Police. There are legions of stories abroad, imputing to him the grossest oppression and venality; even strong Unionists shake their heads disparagingly, at the mention of his name.
But of Colonel Baker, from my own knowledge, I can say nothing: I simply passed through his office to the Old Capitol; nor do I know that he in anywise influenced my after fortunes.
It appeared that my quarters were to be, not in the main building of the prison, but in a sort ofdependänce, a couple of hundred yards off, called Carroll place; thither I was at once removed, after a brief consultation with the officer on guard.
Mr. Wood, the head Superintendent, soon came to welcome the new arrival, and in his first sentence gave me a specimen of thebrusquerieof address for which he has acquired a certain notoriety.
"Mr. ——," he said, "I'm always glad to see your countrymenhere. My father was an Englishman; but I've no sympathy with England. I was born and bred a plebeian, sir."
As I felt no particular interest in Mr. Wood's proclivities or proletarianism, I simply shrugged my shoulders, and turned away without a reply. But when, on his first visit to my room, two days later, he repeated exactly the same formula, without variation of a syllable, I thought it better to assure him that the iteration was absolutely unnecessary, inasmuch as I had believed him onbothpoints easily from the first. He was not at all disconcerted or offended, only we heard him mutter to his subordinate, when they got outside our door:
"That's a pretty d——d high-handed sort of a chap, anyhow."
After half an hour's waiting, I was conducted to a room on the third story, No. 20, and in a few minutes experienced that great rarity of a "fresh sensation," finding myself—for the very first time in my life—fairly under lock and key.
I had been so "harried" of late, that I felt a certain relief in being settledsomewhere. The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in making acquaintance with the Baltimorean blockade-runner, my room-mate, and in exchanging dreary prison civilities with the cells either side, through little tunnels pierced in the wall by former prisoners, which allowed passage to anything of a calibre not exceeding that of a rolled newspaper. A deep, narrow trough, ingeniously excavated in a pine-splinter, enabled us to pledge each other in mutual libations, devoted to our better luck and speedy release. The neighbors, with whom I chiefly held commune, were an Episcopal clergyman and a captain in the Confederate army. Of these, more hereafter. I breathed more freely when the temporary absence of my room-mate, for exercise, left me alone—for the first time since my capture—with my saddle-bags. They had been in Northern custody for four days, and subjected to the severest scrutiny: nevertheless, they still held certain documents that I was right glad to see vanish in the red heat of a fierce log fire.
The miserable first-waking—dreariest of all hours that follow a great loss or disaster—came late to me. I had gone through a certain amount of knocking-about—mental and bodily—in the last week; and, for eight nights, the nearest approach to a bed had been the extempore couch of a railway-car. So, on an unhappy emaciated palliasse, covered by a dusty horse-rug (it took me four days to weary the jailer into a concession of sheets), I slept, all noises notwithstanding, far into my first prison-day. It was provokingly brilliant and warm; indeed I must, in justice to the Weather Office, allow, that its benignancy has scarcely been interrupted, since I ceased to care whether skies were foul or fair. My recollections of that first day are rather vague; but my impression is, that I had a good deal to think about, and did not in the least know how to begin. I paced up and down, as long as my knee would allow; it was still stiff and painful, though healing fast. In a room twelve feet by eight, you square the circle much too often for pleasure; but it was a week before I had any other exercise. Then, I believe, I made some attempts to improve the acquaintance of my room-mate.
He was not sullen, but, at first, somewhat saturnine and silent. The fact was that, for many days, he had been fasting from the luxuries dearest to every American heart—whisky and tobacco; for all money and clothes had been taken from him at the Provost Marshal's office, and never were returned: in these respects, after my arrival, he fared sumptuously, by comparison, and abated greatly of his discontent. I might have been much more unfortunate in my companion. He was not conversational, certainly, nor very amusing in any way; but he was cunning in all the small crafts of captivity, and kept our chamber swept and garnished to the best of his power. The way in which dust accumulated and renewed itself within those narrow limits, was little short of miraculous; you might brush till you were weary, and ten minutes afterwards things would look as though brooms had never been. Twining ropes out of sea sand, or any other of the tasks with which wizards have baffled fiends, were not more helpless than that on which my comrade busied himself each morning. The wood fire could not account for it; the nuisance increased when it became too warm to light anything but candles; so it must remain another of the physical puzzles concerning which we are perpetually wondering, where it all comes from, and are never likely to be satisfied.
Mr. C—— seemed by no means sanguine as to his own prospects, and took an early opportunity of advising me not to buoy myself up with hopes of speedy release. I can say, truly, that from the very first I did not so delude myself. Some of my Baltimore friends would fain have persuaded me that, in the utter absence of criminating evidence, I should not be detained long; I forbore to argue, but my opinion remained always the same. I had heard how tenacious was the grasp of Federal officials, unless loosened by more golden oil than I could then command. I had heard, too, how slowly aid or intercession from the free outer world could penetrate these mock-bastilles, and how reluctantly the authorities would grant the supreme favor of a hearing, or trial, to any whose condemnation was not sure. So I was prepared to resign myself to anything short of a month's incarceration; but even thus, I under-estimated the hospitable urgency of my amiable entertainers.
The return-wing of the main building in which we were confined, is occupied exclusively by the prisoners committed under a Secretary's warrant. These are much more closely guarded than the other inmates; but they have the advantage of being divided off into pairs, or threes at most, in their rooms, and their comforts are certainly better attended to. The regulations anent food and liquors are liberal enough; you can obtain almost anything by paying about twice its cost; but the privilege of having meals sent in, is not lightly valued by those who have once done battle with the boiled leather, called ration beef, contests in which passive resistance generally prevails.
The barred window of No. 20 looks out on the narrow yard wherein ordinary captives are allowed to disport themselves for three half-hours daily. It is a very motley crowd. There are no Confederate soldiers here; all these are confined in the Old Capitol; but of every other class you may see specimens.
I will try one or two sketches. It used to amuse me to guess at the profession of a captive from outward signs, and, after a little practice, one is rarely wrong.
Those three, talking together apart, and gesticulating so vehemently, with the Hebrew stamp on every line of their dark, keen faces, are blockade-runners: they bewail their captivity more loudly than their fellows; but, be sure, they will wriggle out, soonest of all, if freedom can be purchased by hard swearing or gold. The profits of a single successful venture are simply fabulous; the smugglers are frequently captured with dollars on their persons by tens of thousands: they will part readily with a share of the plunder to any accommodating official, sooner than lose valuable time here; and, as for the oath, they swallow it without a pretense at reluctance.
That group, with wild beards and long unkempt hair, clad in rough garments of every shade, from "butternut" to hodden gray, come evidently from the far uplands of Virginia. Looking at those rough-hewn faces and fierce eyes, you can easily believe that such men are not careful to dissemble their sympathies, and would not lightly forget an injury; the chastisement of this paternal Government will change sullen disaffection into savage animosity; they will all be sent South in time, and "it's a free fight there." I fancy one or two of those yeomen will see the color of Yankee blood, before they see the old homestead again.
That pale Judas face, with scanty, hircine beard, and an expression changing often from spiteful to cunning, could belong only to a Yankee paymaster or commissary, detected in his frauds before he had made up a pile high enough to defy justice; for swindler is notquitesafe till he is nearly a "milliner." (So, was my comrade wont to pronounce millionaire.) Such cases occur daily, and the unity of shabbiness here is always diversified by some trim criminals in dark blue. Putting apparel aside, these accessions do not seem greatly to improve the respectability of the life below-stairs.
There is a very tall man, who generally manages to take his exercise at a different hour from the common herd: when he does mix with them, his well-cut clothes and spotless linen make a strange contrast with the squalor round him. He seems perfectly contented with his present lot; he is always humming snatches of song, or chanting right lustily: he speaks loud and freely with the few to whose converse he condescends; and there is a gay recklessness about his whole bearing almost too ostentatious to be natural. Before long you notice one peculiarity. Speaking or listening—sitting or standing—walking or resting—his long, white, lissom fingers are never still; they cannot handle the commonest object without betraying a swift, subdued dexterity. Look closer yet, and all his glib, sham-soldier talk will not deceive you. That gallant belongs to a great army, whose spoils—if not bloodless—must be won with knife and pistol, instead of rifle and sabre; to an order whose squires are often knighted with no gentleaccolade—an order, the date of whose foundation neither herald nor historian knows, but which must last while Christendom shall endure—the Unholy Order of Industry.
The professional gamblers, here, far outnumber the turfites of England, and they apply themselves to their business from early youth with far more exclusive pertinacity. The richest field for their talent is barren, now that the highroad of the Mississippi is closed; but still in every city of importance, North or South, he who would "fight the tiger," need not wander far without discovering his den. In Richmond, especially, the play never was so desperate and deep. It is unnecessary to say towards which side the sympathies and interests of the mercurial guild tend. The cunning Yankee was ever too prudent to risk much of his hard-earned gold on the chance of a card, fairly or unfairly turned: it is only the planter, on whom wealth flows in while he sleeps, that tempts Fortune with a daring, near which the recklessness of the Regency seems cautious and tame.
It is not strange that the captive knight should accept his present position so cheerfully. Here, he enjoys every luxury that money can buy, and whithersoever he may be consigned, he is sure to fall on his feet; for it matters little to those cosmopolites on what spot of earth their vagrant tents are pitched. Neither is he of the stuff that is likely indefinitely to be detained: even this jealous Government need not fear to let such an enemy go free. My comrade—not innocent or unmindful of past losses atfaro—contemplating the gay cavalier with no loving glance, growls out, "They won't bother themselves with that rubbish long."
There is another figure, quite picturesquely repulsive, which will attract you more than if it were pleasant to look upon. A man, exceedingly old, stout, and lame, with red, savage eyes, and a scowl that never lightens or breaks: it would be an equine injustice to compare his head to a horse's; that of many a thoroughbred measures less in superficial inches. Clearly, a storekeeper from some remote village, where he has battened on the necessities of his neighbors for years, till he has got bloated like an ancient spider in its web. He hobbles up and down, never interchanging a word with his fellows, but unceasingly mumbling his huge toothless jaws; they say he never mutters anything but curses; if so, his daily expense in blasphemy is something fearful to contemplate. I think that cleanliness is as foreign to that horrible old creature's soul as godliness: he never shows a vestige of linen, and I am certain he sleeps in that rusty coat of bluish gray, and in that squalid cravat-rope, never untwisted since it was first donned. His offense must surely have been commerce, active and profitable, with Rebeldom, for he never can have sympathized with any living thing.
One more picture, to close the list. I ought to know that figure, long and lanky, but sinewy withal, though the head, under the fur cap, is averted still.