CHAPTER XVIIGLENDALE AND MALVERN HILLS
Captain de Banyan was as cool and indifferent to danger as though he had been shot-proof. Cannon-balls and shell flew through the air; but the veteran paid no attention to them—except that once in a while they reminded him of Magenta, orsome other of the numerous battle-fields where he had displayed his valor. There was little fighting for our regiment at this point, though there was a sharp action on the right of the position.
The rebels attacked our forces with tremendous vigor at Savage’s Station. It was believed by their generals that the Union army was utterly demoralized; that it was retreating in disorder towards the James River; and that a vigorous onslaught would result in its capture. The first intimation of the blunder was received at Savage’s Station, where the Confederates were decisively repulsed; yet the hope was not abandoned of ending the war by the destruction of the Army of the Potomac. The hosts of the rebellion were poured down the roads, where they could intercept the loyal forces; and the full extent of their blunder was realized only at Malvern Hills.
At noon our regiment marched through White Oak Swamp, and late in the evening bivouacked in a field near the road. During all this time the road was filled with troops, and with trains of army wagons on their way to the new “base.” Very early the next morning, the march was resumed. It was an exceedingly hot day, and the troops suffered severely from the heat. Somers was nearly exhausted when the regiment halted at noon near a church, which the surgeons had already occupied as a hospital. But nothing could disturb the equanimity of Captain de Banyan. If an opportunity offered, he rested, and went tosleep amid the screaming shells as readily as though he had been in his chamber in the “Fifth Avenue.” It was not quite so hot as it was at Magenta, nor the march quite so severe as before Solferino, nor the shot quite so thick as at Chapultepec. He never grumbled himself, and never permitted any one else to do so. If Somers ventured to suggest that events were rather hard upon him, he wondered what he would have done if he had been at Magenta, Solferino, Balaclava, or Chapultepec.
Somers was disposed to make the best of the circumstances; and though hungry, tired and nearly melted, he sustained himself with unfaltering courage amid the trials of that eventful march. All day long, the tide of army wagons and cattle flowed down the road; and the brigade remained near the church at Glendale, waiting for them to pass. At dark the order was given to move forward, while the roar of cannon and musketry reverberated on the evening air, assuring the weary veterans that the baptism of blood was at hand for them, as it had been before for their comrades in arms.
The regiment followed a narrow road through the woods, which was thronged with thedébrisof the conflict, hurled back by the fierce assaults of the rebels. The cowardly skulkers and the noncombatants of the engaged regiments were here with their tale of disaster and ruin; and, judging from the mournful stories they told, the once proudArmy of the Potomac had been utterly routed and discomfited. Cowards with one bar, cowards with two bars, cowards with no bar, and cowards with the eagle on their shoulders, repeated the wail of disaster; and the timid would have shrunk from the fiery ordeal before them, if the intrepid officers and the mass of the rank and file had not been above the influence of the poltroons’ trembling tones and quaking limbs.
“Forward, my brave boys! I’ve been waiting all my lifetime for such a scene as this!” shouted Captain de Banyan, as he flourished his sword after the most approved style.
“Don’t mind the cowards!” said Somers, as the stragglers poured out their howls of terror.
There was little need of these stirring exhortations; for the men were as eager for the fight as the officers, and laughed with genuine glee at the pitiful aspect of the runaways. They advanced in line of battle to the support of the hard-pressed troops in front of them, and poured a withering fire into the enemy. With that fiendish yell which the Southern soldiers invariably use in the hour of battle, they rushed forward with a fury which was madness, and into which no fear of death entered.
“They are coming!” shouted Somers, as the legions of rebellion surged down upon the line, yelling like so many demons, as though they expected the veterans to be vanquished by mere noise. “Stand steady, my men!”
“That reminds me of the Russian advance atMagenta,” said Captain de Banyan, who happened to pass near the spot where Somers stood.
“The Austrians, you mean,” replied Somers, trying to keep as cool and unmoved as his companion.
“Excuse me; I meant the Austrians,” replied the captain. “The fact is——Forward, my brave fellows!” roared he as the order came down the line.
The enemy had been temporarily checked, and the brigade advanced to pursue the advantage gained. They poured another terrible volley into the rebels; when a regiment of the latter, infuriated by whiskey and the fierce goadings of their officers, rushed down with irresistible force upon a portion of the Union line, and succeeded in making a partial break in our regiment. The only remaining line officer in one of the companies where the rupture occurred was wounded at this critical moment, and borne under the feet of the excited combatants.
“Lieutenant Somers, take command of that company!” shouted the colonel, as he dashed towards the imperiled portion of the line.
Somers made haste to obey the order when the line was giving way before the impetuous charge. He felt that the safety of the whole army depended upon himself at that momentous instant, and that on the salvation of the army rested the destiny of his country. What was the life of a single man, of a hundred thousand even, compared with thefearful issue of that moment? It was the feeling of the young soldier, and he was ready to lay down his life for the flag which symbolized the true glory of the nation.
“Rally round me!” he cried, as he discharged his revolver into the breast of a brave captain who was urging his company forward with the most unflinching resolution. “Down with them!” he shouted, as he waved his sword above his head.
“Hurrah!” roared a brave sergeant near him, and the cry was taken up by the gallant fellows who had been pressed back by sheer force of numbers.
“Forward!” shouted Somers, as he dashed down a bayonet, which would have transfixed him on the spot if he had not been on the alert.
The men rallied, and stood boldly up to the work before them. They were inspired by the example of the young lieutenant; and the rebel regiment slowly and doggedly retired, leaving many of their number dead or wounded on the field, and a small number as prisoners in the hands of Somers’s new command.
After alternate repulses and successes, the rebels were signally defeated and driven back. It was a sharp and decisive struggle; but again had the army been saved from destruction, and the long line of army wagons still pursued its way in safety towards the waters of the James.
Again had the rebel general’s brilliant calculation failed. His troops, maddened by the fires ofthe whiskey demon, had done all that men or fiends could do; but the trained valor of the Army of the Potomac had again saved the country. Onward it marched towards the goal of safety under the sheltering wings of the gunboat fleet in the river.
All night long the men marched, with frequent intervals of rest, as the movements of the army trains required them. There was no sleep, even after that hard-fought battle; no real rest from the exciting and wearing events of the day. There was little or no food to be had; and the fainting soldiers, though still ready to fight and march in their weakness, longed for the repose of a few hours in camp. But not yet was the boon to be granted. On the following morning, our regiment arrived at Malvern Hills, where they were again formed in line of battle, in readiness to receive the menacing hosts of the rebels.
“We are all right now, Somers,” said Captain de Banyan while they were waiting for the onset.
“Not quite yet, captain. Don’t you see those signal-flags on the houses yonder?”
“They mean something, of course. I did not intend to say there will be no fighting; only, that we have a good position, and all the rebels in the Confederacy can’t start us now.”
“Those flags indicate that the rebels are moving.”
“Let them come; the sooner the better, and the sooner it will be over. Hurrah!” exclaimed thecaptain, as the inspiring strains of the band in the rear saluted his ears.
Cheer after cheer passed along the extended lines as the notes of the “Star-spangled Banner” thrilled the hearts of the weary, fainting soldiers. The bands had not been heard during the operations in front of Richmond; and their music, as Sergeant Hapgood expressed it, “sounded like home.”
“That does me good, Somers,” continued the captain. “There’s nothing like music for the nerves. It wakes men up, and makes them forget all their troubles. Forward, the light brigade!” he added, flourishing his sword in the air. “I suppose you know that poem, Somers?”
“Of course; I know it by heart; read it in school the last day I ever went.”
“Did you, indeed?”
“Nothing very singular about that, is there?”
“Rather a remarkable coincidence, I should say,” replied the captain with easy indifference, as he twirled his sword on the ground.
“I don’t see it.”
“You read the poem at school, and I was in that charge.”
“You?”
“Yes, my boy. I was a captain in that brigade. But what called the circumstance to my mind was the music which struck up just now. I had a bugler in my company who played ‘Hail, Columbia’ during the whole of the fight.”
“‘Hail, Columbia?’” demanded Somers.
“Certainly; the fellow had a fancy for that tune; and though it wasn’t exactly a national thing to the British army, he always played it when he got a chance. Well, sir, I think that bugler did more than any other man in the charge of the light brigade. He never lost a note, and it fired the men up to the pitch of frenzy.”
“He was a brave fellow,” replied Somers languidly; for he was too thoroughly worn out to appreciate the stories of his veteran companion.
“He was the most determined man I ever met in my life. He was killed in the charge, poor fellow; but he had filled his bugle so full of wind, that the music did not cease till full five minutes after he was stone-dead.”
“Come, come, captain! that’s a little too bad,” said Somers seriously.
“Too bad? Well, I should not be willing to take oath that the time was just five minutes after the bugler died. I did not take out my watch, and time it; and, of course, I can only give you my judgment as to the precise number of minutes.”
“You are worse than Baron Munchausen, who told a story something like that; only his was the more reasonable of the two.”
“Somers, my boy! you have got a villainously bad habit of discrediting the statements of a brother-officer and a gentleman,” said Captain de Banyan seriously.
“And you have got a bad habit of telling themost abominable stories that ever proceeded from the mouth of any man.”
“We’ll drop the subject, Somers; for such discussions lead to unpleasant results. Do you see that rebel battery?” added the captain, pointing to a road a mile off, where the enemy had taken position to shell the Union line.
“I see it.”
The rebel battery opened fire, which was vigorously answered by the other side. The scene began to increase in interest as the cannonade extended along the whole line; and, through the entire day, there raged the most furious artillery conflict of the war. The rebel masses were hurled time after time against the Union line; but it maintained its position like a wall of iron, while thousands of the enemy were recklessly sacrificed in the useless assault. General M—— had probably drunk more than his usual quantity of whiskey; and, though he was as brave as a lion, hundreds of his men paid the penalty with their lives of his rashness and indiscretion.
Night came again upon a victorious field, while hundreds of weeping mothers in the neighboring city sighed for the sons who would return no more to their arms; and while mothers wept, fathers groaned and sisters moaned, the grand army of the Confederacy had been beaten, and the proud rulers of an infatuated people were trembling for their own safety in the presence of the ruin with which defeat threatened them.
After the battle commenced the movement of the Army of the Potomac down the river to Harrison’s Landing. The rain fell in torrents, and the single road was crowded with troops and wagons. Though the exhausted soldiers slept, even while the guns of the enemy roared in front of them, and during the brief halts which the confusion in the road caused, there was no real repose. The excitement of the battle and the retreat, and the undefinable sense of insecurity which their situation engendered, banished rest. Tired Nature asserted her claims, and the men yielded to them only when endurance had reached its utmost limit.
At Harrison’s Landing, the work of intrenching the position was immediately commenced; and it was some days before the army were entirely assured that defeat and capture were not still possible. The failure of the campaign was not without its effect upon the troops. They felt, that, instead of marching under their victorious banners into the enemy’s capital, they had been driven from their position. It was not disaster, but it was failure. Though the soldiers were still in good condition, and as ready as ever to breast the storm of battle, they were in a measure dispirited by the misfortune.
General McClellan and General Lee had each failed to accomplish his purpose. It was the intention of the latter to send Stonewall Jackson into the rear of the Union army, cut it off from its base of supplies, and then attack in front and on theleft. The plan was defeated by General McClellan’s change of base, which was forced upon him by the cutting-off of his communications with the Pamunkey River. The Union generals, who were first attacked on the right, supposed they were confronted by Jackson, who had come down to flank them in this direction; while Lee intended that he should attack farther down the Peninsula. Each commanding general, to some extent, mistook the purpose of the other. Whatever errors were made by the grand players in this mighty game, about one thing there can be no mistake—that the courage and fortitude of the rank and file saved the Army of the Potomac, and pushed aside the mighty disaster in which its ruin would have involved the country. All honor to the unnamed heroes who fought those great battles, and endured hardships which shall thrill the souls of Americans for ages to come!
CHAPTER XVIIILIEUTENANT SOMERS HAS A NEW SENSATION
The experience of the soldiers at Harrison’s Landing, for a month following their arrival, was not of the most agreeable nature; and consisted of too large a proportion of exercise with pick and shovel to be very pleasant to those who had not been accustomed to handling these useful implements.Intrenchments and batteries were constructed; and the position was as carefully fortified as the genius of the distinguished engineer in command could suggest, and as thoroughly as though he expected to spent the balance of the term of his natural life at this place.
The army was soon in a condition to defy the operations of the enemy, who were wise enough not to molest it. Somers, in common with the rest of the command, recovered from the severe trials of the movement from White Oak Swamp, and again longed for active operations. About two weeks after the cessation of active operations, the official documents which announced his promotion to the rank of first lieutenant came down to the army; but this was a foregone conclusion. He had won his first bar by his scouting services, and his commission was expected for a fortnight before its arrival. It did not, therefore, cause him any surprise; and was so small an elevation, that his comrades hardly congratulated him upon its reception.
A fortnight later, there came a startling sensation to thrill him with satisfaction and delight. An orderly from the division headquarters summoned him to attend upon the general. The message startled him; for it indicated some momentous event to him, and he hastily prepared to obey the order.
“You are in luck again,” said De Banyan, grasping his hand.
“Perhaps not,” replied Somers, bewildered at the suggestion.
“I know you are, my dear boy. I was sent for just four weeks after the battle of Solferino, and made a brigadier-general,” persisted the captain.
“Ah! then you are General de Banyan?”
“No, no; I dropped the title when I ceased to hold the office.”
“That was modest, general.”
“Captain, if you please.”
“You are entitled by courtesy to the use of the title, and you shall not be robbed of any of your honors.”
“As a particular favor, Somers, never call me general. I do not wish to rise above my actual rank. I have never mentioned the little circumstance of my promotion before. Your good fortune was so similar to my own, that I was surprised into doing so.”
“What do you mean by my good fortune, captain?”
“Why, you are promoted again. I will bet my year’s pay you have had another lift.”
“Nonsense! I have just been promoted.”
“Bah! what was that to a man of your merit, with a Senator to speak at court for you? A petty first lieutenancy is nothing for a brilliant fellow like you.”
“I am not half so brilliant a fellow as you declare, and I think that a commission as first lieutenant is a big thing for a young man like me. I’msure I never had an idea of being an officer at all; and, when I was made a sergeant, I didn’t think I deserved it.”
“What do you suppose a major-general can want with you? You have heard from Senator Guilford once before, and I am satisfied you will hear from him again. Now, Somers, what do you suppose the general wants of you?”
“I don’t know; I think it very likely he wants a man of my size to go up the river, or on the other side, scouting; nothing more than that, I am satisfied. But I must obey the order,” added Somers, who had been making his preparations during the conversation.
“Well, good-by, my boy; and I shall have to stand one side for you after this, and salute you as major.”
“As what?”
“Major.”
“How absurd you are, captain! You always talk like a sensible fellow; that is, when you mean what you say.”
“A hard hit; and very likely the first thing you do, when you get to be a major, will be to arrest me for lying.”
“Your hit is the hardest, my dear captain. We have seen some hard times together; and you may be sure that whatever I am, I shall never forget you.”
“That’s hearty, my boy! Your hand oncemore,” replied De Banyan, extending his own. “After the battle of Solferino——”
“Really, captain, you must excuse me this time, or the general will put me under arrest for my want of promptness, instead of sending me on special duty.”
“Well, good luck to you, Somers,” said the captain as the lieutenant started for the division headquarters.
As he passed out of sight, an expression of sadness settled down upon Captain de Banyan’s face. He looked disappointed and uncomfortable, and it is quite probable that he envied the good fortune of his young companion in arms. If Somers had been brave, and attentive to his duty, he had been no less so himself; and he could not help feeling that the destruction of those railroad cars had made the young man’s fortune; that his rapid advancement was a mere stroke of good luck.
Lieutenant Somers, wondering what could possibly be wanted of him, hastened to the headquarters of the division. He had no faith whatever in the prognostications of Captain de Banyan, and was too modest to believe that he had done anything to merit another promotion so soon. Recalling the incidents of his career since his eventful expedition within the rebel lines, there was nothing in his conduct to merit even the notice of his superiors, unless it was what others called his skill and courage in rallying the broken company at Glendale. He had been warmly praised forthis act; but he deemed it of little importance, for the memory of Williamsburg cast into the shade anything that had occurred to him since that bloody day.
He was ushered into the presence of the general, who gave him the kindly welcome which he always bestowed upon those of humble rank. Now, Somers cherished an intense admiration for this distinguished officer, and esteemed it a greater honor to stand in his presence than in that of the most powerful sovereign of the earth.
“Lieutenant Somers?” said the general, extending his hand; a piece of condescension which made our officer blush, and appear as awkward as a country school-boy.
“Yes, sir; thank you, sir,” stammered Somers, as he took the proffered hand.
“You behaved well at Glendale, Somers,” said the general bluntly.
“I endeavored to do my duty, general.”
“You did well on that scout, too; and I’m going to send you out on another, if you have any fancy for such work.”
“I will do the best I can.”
“But, my brave fellow, I wish you to be very careful; for we can’t afford to lose officers like you.”
“I am always careful, general,” said Somers with a smile.
“Can you handle a boat?”
“Yes, sir; I was brought up among boats.”
“You will go over the river. There is rebel cavalry over there, and very likely a considerable force of infantry. I am inclined to think they are building batteries in the woods, to close up the navigation of the river, or perhaps to shell us out of our position. In a word, I am instructed to solve the problem, and I have selected you to do the work. What do you say?”
“I am all ready, sir, to undertake that, or any service to which I may be ordered.”
“That’s the right spirit, Captain Somers; and I thank you for the promptness with which you enter into my plans. I am satisfied, captain, that you will discharge the duty to my entire satisfaction.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Well, Captain Somers, you shall take what force you think necessary. As it will not be prudent for you to go over before dark, you may make up your plan, and I will listen to the details before you go. How many boats shall you want, captain?”
“Only one, sir,” replied Somers promptly; though he was wondering with all his might how the general happened to make so many blunders in regard to his military title, for he had called him captain four or five times.
“Only one? You will need force enough to protect you, captain,” replied the general.
Captain again!
“I do not intend to fight the whole rebel army,if it is over there. I do not propose to take more than half a dozen men with me.”
“I think that is a sensible view of the enterprise; for the more men you take, the greater your chances of being discovered. Select your own men, Captain Somers.”
Captain Somers! The general had certainly forgotten that he was only a first lieutenant, or else he was amusing himself at his modest subordinate’s expense.
“I know of several men in our regiment who are just what I want,” replied Somers, hardly able to speak from embarrassment, on account of the general’s often-repeated mistake.
“Very well; you shall have the necessary authority to select whom you please. You may go now, and arrange your plans.”
Somers saluted the general, and was about to retire, when the thought occurred to him that he might at least gratify his friend Captain de Banyan, and perhaps bring him favorably to the general’s notice.
“May I be allowed to select an officer to go with me?” he asked.
“Certainly, if you desire; but you will remember that you are a young officer, going out on difficult and dangerous service, and that officers will not be so obedient as privates,” suggested the general. “Whom do you desire to go with you?”
“Captain de Banyan, of our regiment.”
“Captain! Why, then he will be your equal inrank, and by priority of commission, your superior.”
“We shall agree remarkably well, general, though he is my superior in rank, without regard to dates,” replied Somers, who by this time had come to the conclusion that the general meant something by calling him captain.
“No; you are both captains,” added the general with apparent indifference.
“I beg your pardon, general; you have probably forgotten that the commission which was forwarded to me only about two weeks ago was that of first lieutenant.”
“I remember all about it, Captain Somers; but, by the time you reach your quarters, there will be another commission there for you. By the way, captain, do you remember Senator Guilford?”
“I do, general; I have good reason to remember him; for he takes a deep interest in my affairs,” replied Somers, whose brown face was red with blushes.
“Has a pretty daughter, hasn’t he? Fell out of a railroad car and broke her arm, didn’t she?”
“That was the only time I ever saw her, general,” stammered Somers; “and probably I shall never see her again.”
“Why, you are as cold-blooded as a frog! Why don’t you write to the damsel, and tell her you are still alive, if you can’t think of anything else to say?”
“I don’t like to curry favor with great folks.”
“I like that, captain. But you must attend to your duty now. You may have Captain de—what’s-his-name—if you like.”
“Captain de Banyan, sir. He is a brave and noble fellow.”
“Your friend, eh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, I remember him. He is certainly a brave fellow; for I noticed him at Glendale.”
“At Oak Grove he captured the enemy’s sharpshooters, who were lodged in the old house.”
“I thought you did that.”
“No, sir; I was under Captain de Banyan’s orders at the time.”
“I see; and I will remember that, Captain Somers. By the way, it would be well for you to write to Senator Guilford, just to inform him of your promotion. He has done good service for you, though I have no hesitation in saying your promotion would have been certain without his aid.”
“Thank you, general,” replied Somers, who fully understood the meaning of that significant remark.
We regret that the good conduct of our hero has destroyed the fitness of the title which we had chosen for our humble volume; but we will venture to say that our sympathizing readers will rejoice with him in his advancement.
Captain Somers! The idea seemed to him as big as a mountain, when he withdrew from the presenceof the general, who evidently experienced a deep satisfaction in the result of his recommendation to the authorities, and had humorously chosen this method of communicating the welcome news. The earth seemed to be as elastic as India-rubber under the feet of the new-made captain, as he hastened back to the camp of the regiment.
He could hardly believe his senses; it was so strange that a young man like him should attain to this high rank. He wanted to “crow;” and perhaps he would have done so, if he had not considered that he must maintain the dignity of his new office.
“Captain Somers, I greet you!” exclaimed De Banyan on his return to camp.
“Who told you I was a captain?” laughed Somers.
“This document,” replied he, handing him the ponderous official envelope. “I congratulate you, my boy; though I’m rather disappointed to find you are not a major.”
“Nonsense, captain! I would have declined a major’s commission.”
“Declined it!” gasped De Banyan. “Well, I don’t know but you would. You are the only officer I ever knew to decline a glass of wine, and I don’t know but you would decline a major’s commission.”
“I certainly would. Why, I’m only a boy; and I don’t know but I ought to decline even a captain’s commission. I’m only eighteen years old.”
“What of that? There’s the Fourth Vermont over there—the colonel of that regiment isn’t twenty-one yet, and there isn’t a better or braver officer in the army. If you decline, I’ll cross you off from my list of friends. Why, at Balaclava, when I was——”
“Balaclava and blarney!” exclaimed Somers impatiently.
“I was only going to say, that I was but seventeen when I was made a captain in the British army.”
“I have been a brigadier in my own imagination, just as you were a captain, when you were seventeen. But never mind that; I am going on a scout; have got my orders.”
“Ah, my boy! you are going to celebrate the arrival of your commission by active duty. I wish the generals would think of me when they want something handsome done.”
“What do you say to going with me?”
“I would thank my stars for the chance.”
“Well, then I have orders for you.”
“Somers, my dear fellow, you touch my heart-strings!” cried the captain, jumping up, and throwing his arms around Somers in the most extravagant manner.
“On one condition,” added Captain Somers.
“Any condition you please.”
“You are my superior; but——”
“I know all about it. I will go as a volunteer, and you shall command the expedition.”
“We will work together.”
“With all my heart.”
Somers then selected six men for the service, with special reference to their skill as boatmen, and ordered them to make the necessary preparations for duty. As there were still several hours to spare before dark, he used a portion of this time in writing a letter to his mother, informing her of the remarkable fortune that had attended him; and another to Senator Guilford, thanking him for the kind interest he had manifested in his welfare, in the postscript of which he wrote the history of Captain de Banyan’s valuable services, and modestly added that any favor conferred on his friend would ever be gratefully remembered by the writer.
CHAPTER XIXOVER THE RIVER
Captain Somers, as we are hereafter to call him, was proud and happy in the distinction which had been bestowed upon him; but he had some doubts whether he had fully earned his promotion. He had done as much as any, and more than some. Yet it seemed to him just as though nothing short of the capture or annihilation of a whole brigade of the enemy’s forces could entitle him to such a distinguished honor, especially as he was onlyeighteen years of age. He was afraid that Senator Guilford had exerted too much influence in his favor; but the general of the division had assured him he had won his promotion, and would have received it in time, even without the powerful aid of the honorable gentleman at Washington.
This thought comforted him; and he only hoped that his friend De Banyan would be as highly favored as he had been. The valiant captain, in spite of his glaring faults, was a good fellow, a fine officer, and very popular with his inferiors as well as his superiors. He had become very much attached to Somers, and had proved by many substantial acts that he was animated by a warm regard for him. Though he talked a great deal about the favor of high officials in securing his promotion, he had never hinted a wish that Somers should attempt to influence his powerful friend to do anything for him.
Somers said nothing to the captain about the letter he had written. If anything was done, he wished to have his friend surprised as he had been. But he had only slight hopes that anything would be accomplished by his application. Though Captain de Banyan had always behaved well in battle, and had always faithfully discharged his duties in the camp and on the march, there was something like a mystery hanging about him, which had a tendency to prejudice the officers against him. While they admired his bravery, and enjoyed his society, there was a certain lack of confidence, resultingfrom a want of knowledge of his antecedents.
De Banyan always evaded any allusion to his former residence or occupation. He desired to be regarded as a soldier of fortune, who had fought with every nation that had a quarrel with its neighbors. Where he was born, where he had lived, or how he obtained his commission, were secrets locked up in his own breast. Somers had some doubts in regard to him, and was constantly afraid that he should hear more of the captain than it would be pleasant to know.
Captain Somers reported his arrangements in due form to the general, and they were approved. About nine o’clock in the evening, he, with his little party, embarked on the river, and the rowers pulled towards the opposite shore. Of course, it was necessary to use the utmost caution; for a rebel picket on the opposite bank of the river might suddenly put an end to the career of some of the party.
“I think we are making a mistake, Captain Somers,” said De Banyan in a whisper, when they had gone about half way across the river.
“So do I; but it is not too late to correct the error,” replied Somers, as he turned the bow of the boat down the river.
“I believe you are my double, Somers; for you know my thoughts before I utter them.”
“I was just thinking, when you spoke, that we were running into a nest of the enemy.”
“Just before the battle of the Alma, I went onjust such an expedition as this; but we went down the river beyond the enemy’s lines, and doubled up in the rear of them; thus finding out all we wanted to know.”
“That is what I propose to do.”
“Captain Brickfield and myself landed, and walked sixty-four miles between nine o’clock in the evening and four o’clock in the morning,” added Captain de Banyan.
“How far?”
“Sixty-four miles.”
“Good!” exclaimed Somers. “Did you walk all the way?”
“Every step.”
“It was tip-top walking, De Banyan—a little more than nine miles an hour.”
“Do you doubt the story?”
“I don’t doubt that it is a story.”
“Now, that isn’t kind of you, Somers, to be perpetually throwing discredit upon everything I say,” replied the captain, apparently much hurt.
“You mustn’t say such things, then. You don’t expect any man in his senses to believe that you walked over nine miles an hour, and followed it for seven hours?”
“I was tougher then than I am now.”
“And you can tell a tougher story now than you could then, I’ll warrant.”
“There it is again!”
“Now, my dear fellow, I’m afraid you will die with an enormous fib in your mouth.”
“Come, Somers, you are taking a mean advantage of my friendship. You know that I like you too well to quarrel with you.”
“Silence!” said Somers earnestly. “There is a boat coming out from the rebel side of the river.”
The water was covered with vessels of every description in the vicinity of Harrison’s Landing; and the boat had just emerged from this forest of masts and smokestacks. It was time to be entirely silent again; for the rebels were on the alert in every direction, watching to strike a blow at the grand army, or to pick up individual stragglers who might fall in their way. The boat which Somers had discovered was approaching from the rebel side of the river; and to be seen by the enemy, at this point of the proceedings, would be fatal to the expedition.
“Who goes there?” said a man in the rebel boat.
“Friends!” replied Somers.
“Who are ye?”
The tones were so unmistakably Southern, that there could be no question in regard to the party to which the boat belonged.
“Officers examining the enemy’s lines,” replied Somers.
At the same time he ordered his crew to pull, and steered the boat so as to run her alongside the other. On the way, he whispered to the men his instructions; and, as soon as they were near enough, they leaped on board the rebel boat, and captured her astonished crew before they had timeto make any resistance. No doubt they thought this was very rude treatment to receive from the hands of those who professed to be their friends; but they had discovered their mistake by this time, and it afforded a sufficient explanation of the seeming inconsistency.
The capture of this boat involved the necessity of returning to the nearest steamer in the river to dispose of the prisoners. On the way back, Somers and De Banyan conversed with the rebels on general topics; for the latter refused to say anything which could be of service to their enemy. After the captives had been delivered on board the steamer, our party decided to take the boat which had been captured, instead of the one they had brought from the landing; for there were some peculiarities in its construction, which made it a safer conveyance in rebel waters than the other, the approach of which would excite suspicion if seen.
Again they pulled down the river, and passed the point from beyond which the rebel boat had approached them. The shore was probably lined with pickets; and the wisdom of exchanging the boats was now more apparent to them than before. Somers steered into a little inlet or bay beyond the point, and at the head of it found a creek flowing into the river. It was wide and deep at the outlet; and he decided to ascend it.
“How was it, Andy?” said a voice from theshore, after the boat had advanced a few rods up the creek.
“All right!” replied Somers at a venture; though he was somewhat startled by the question.
“Have the Yankees any picket boats out?” demanded the man on shore.
“Haven’t seen any.”
“How far up have you been?”
“About two miles,” answered Somers, continually coughing to account for any change in his voice which might be apparent to his friend on shore.
“The fire-steamer is all ready,” added the voice; “and it is about time to go to work.”
“The fire-steamer!” exclaimed Somers in a low tone.
“They are going to burn the vessels in the river,” added De Banyan.
“What shall we do?”
“We must stop their fun at all hazards,” replied the valiant captain promptly.
“What are you stopping there for, Andy? Why don’t you pull up the creek?” continued the man on shore.
“My name isn’t Andy,” said Somers; “and I don’t fully understand this business.”
“Who are you, then?” replied the rebel. “What has become of Andy?”
“He has got another job, and sent me to do this one,” answered Somers, whose ready wit had adopted a plan to defeat the purpose of the enemy.
“Who are you?”
“Tom Leathers. Andy sent me up to attend to this matter. Where is the fire-steamer?”
“About half a mile farther up the creek. But where is Andy?”
“Some general sent for him; and he has gone to Richmond. I reckon the iron-clad’s coming down soon.”
“Can you take care of the steamer?”
“Certainly I can.”
“Are you a pilot?”
“Pilot enough for this business.”
“I understand it all. Andy was afraid to do this job, and has backed out.”
“I only know what he said to me,” replied Somers innocently.
“Well, pull up the creek, and don’t waste any more time in talking about it.”
“I haven’t wasted any time. You have done all the talking yourself,” replied Somers, who thought he should not be a consistent Southerner if he did not growl.
Somers directed the men to pull again, and the boat advanced up the creek till the steamer appeared. She was a small, worn-out old craft, which had probably dodged into the creek when the Union fleet came up the river. The man who had spoken from the shore reached the place almost as soon as the boat. He was dressed in the gray of the Confederate army, and was evidently anofficer detailed to perform the duty of fitting out the fire-ship.
“This is a most remarkable proceeding on the part of the pilot,” said the officer.
“I can’t help it. You needn’t growl at me about it. If you don’t want me, I don’t want the job,” replied Somers sourly.
“Don’t be impudent to me,” added the officer.
“And don’t you be impudent to me,” said Somers. “I’m not one of your men.”
“Silence! or I shall put you under arrest.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Do you know the channel of the river?”
“Of course I do. What do you suppose Andy sent me here for?” snarled Somers.
“Keep a civil tongue in your head, man.”
“You had better show me how to do it first. Come, Graves,” he added, turning to De Banyan, “we are not wanted here, and we will go home again.”
“Who is that man with you?”
“Graves.”
“Where did you get all these men?”
“They came with me to see the fun, and help the thing along.”
The officer stepped on board of the steamer, and Somers and De Banyan joined him on the deck.
“I think I’ve seen you somewhere.”
“I think very likely; I was there once.”
“You are a crusty young cub; but it may be you know your duty.”
“Of course I do; and as for being crusty, I treated you like a gentleman till you began to snarl at me.”
“Well, well, my friend, we will rub out the past and begin again,” said the officer pleasantly.
“With all my heart, if you say so,” replied Somers with equal suavity.
“This is a very important enterprise, and we want to teach the Yankees that it will be better for them to stay at home next time they want to come down South. What is your name?”
“Tom Leathers. What’s yours? Andy told me; but I’ve forgotten.”
“Captain Osborn.”
The rebel officer proceeded to give the supposed pilot very full instructions in regard to the steamer, which was to be run up the river to City Point, set on fire, and then abandoned to float with the current through the thickest of the Federal fleet, blowing up gunboats, and consuming transports by the hundred. The fire-steamer had been loaded with pitch-wood, tar, pitch and turpentine; and Captain Osborn was satisfied that the plan, if thoroughly carried out, would cause tremendous havoc among the Yankee vessels. He rubbed his hands with delight as he contemplated the prospect of driving the “Hessian” fleet from the river, and starving the Union army out of its position.
An engineer and two firemen, whom they found on board the steamer, were all the crew she had, and all she needed besides the pilot. They had gotup steam, and the vessel was all ready to move on her errand of destruction when the word should be given.
“Now you are all ready,” said Captain Osborn when he had completed his instructions. “You will hoist the American flag, and pretend you are a Yankee, if they attempt to stop you on your way up the river.”
“I can do that to a charm,” replied Somers. “I am all ready. Where is Graves? Hallo, Graves!” he shouted, when he found that his companion had left his side to take a look at the other parts of the steamer.
“Here I am, Tom,” answered Graves, emerging from the engine-room, where he had been talking with the presiding genius of that department.
“Run up the colors.”
“Ay, ay, sir!” replied De Banyan.
The colors went up, and other preparations were made for the great enterprise.
“Cast off that stern line!” said Somers. “Make fast your painter on the port quarter,” he added to the man in the boat; and no doubt by this time Captain Osborn was fully satisfied that he was perfectly familiar with the management of a steamer.
Now, Somers was very well satisfied that he should run the steamer aground before he rounded the first point in the river, and he had wisely concluded not to undertake so rash an enterprise. Besides, he did not come over there to be the skipper of a steamer; he had other and even more importantduties to perform. He was much more interested in certain rebel batteries which were believed to be in process of construction farther up the river. But Captain Osborn was an unreasonable man, and demanded the execution of his plan. He was determined to see a conflagration, and Somers was equally determined to gratify him.
Our pilot discovered the value of his limited nautical experience in Pinchbrook Harbor; for it enabled him to convince the rebel officer that he was a full-fledged “salt,” and was entirely at home on the deck of any vessel that could float in the waters of the James. The stern-line and the bow-line were cast off; and Somers stood in the little wheel-house, ready to ring the bells. Captain Osborn had just stepped on shore, intending to mount his horse and ride up the river, where he could see the conflagration when it came off.
Just then, there was a tremendous commotion among the firemen and engineer; and, a moment later, a broad, bright sheet of flame rose from the heap of combustibles in the after-part of the steamer.