Skip to main content

Full text of "God's war"

See other formats 


C^  "^^Wx^^-  ^  ^^ 


va^N  ^^ 


r 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


i8^4"Ai£ft  COLLECT 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcinive 

in  2010  witin  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/godswarOOvanc 


GOD'S   WAR. 


BY 


WILSON    VANCE, 

Author  of  " Prince' t  Favors"  and  "Little  Amy' a  Chriatmas. 


F.  TENNYSON  NEELY, 

PUBLISHER, 
LONDON.  NEW  YORK. 


Copyright,  1899, 

by 

F.  Tennyson  Nkblt 

ID 

United  States 

and 
Qreat  Britain. 

AU  Rights  Reserved. 


TO  MY    SONS    AND    MY   DAUGHTERS;    AND  TO  THE    SONS   AND   THB 
DAUGHTERS  OF  THE  MEN  AND  WOMEN  OF  1861  IN  AMERICA; 
AND  TO  THEIR  CHILDREN,  AND  THEIR  CHILDREN'S 
CHILDREN  UNTO  THE  REMOTEST   GENERA- 
TIONS  OF  THEM,    THIS   STORY 
IB  DEDICATKO. 


603296 


PREFACE. 


To  the  end  that  the  memory  of  the  men  aud  women 
whose  valor  aud  sacrifices  defended  and  preserved  the 
Republic  through  the  trial  as  by  fire  of  the  great  civil 
war  in  America  shall  not  perish  from  the  earth  ;  that  their 
descendants  and  successors  may  appreciate  the  splendor 
of  the  steadfast  patriotism  and  patient  resolute  endurance 
to  which  humanity  owes  so  mnch;  and  in  the  hope  that 
the  world  may  the  better  understand  and  value  the  les- 
sons taught  by  a  divinely  ordained  educational  process, 
this  story  has  been  written.  Persuaded  that  its  faults 
must  be  many  and  grievous  (since,  how  should  a  plain 
layman,  sometime  soldier,  with  no  claims  to  literary  skill, 
avoid  them?),  and  conscious  of  its  inadequacy,  the  author 
submits  it;  trusting  that  it  may,  at  least  in  some  small 
degree,  accomplish  the  work  whereunto  it  is  sent. 

November,  1898. 


Since  the  foregoing  was  Avritten  and  while  the  manu- 
script was  still  in  the  hands  of  the  printer,  the  follow- 
ing letter  appeared  in  the  New  York  Sun  of  the  26th  of 
December,  1898;  and  as  it  expresses,  even  better  than 
the  author  of  "God's  War"  could,  his  primaiy  motivu 
in  writing  the  story,  he  takes  the  liberty  to  place  it  here, 


VI  PREFACE. 

without  apology,  but  with  thanks  to  "C.  G.  B.,"  who- 
ever he  may  be. 

"To  THE  Editor  of  the  Sun — Sir:  The  brief  obituary 
notice  subjoined  appeared  the  other  day  in  the  New 
York  Times: 

BALAKLAVA  HERO  DEAD  AT  SPRINGFIELD. 

"SpniNGFiELD.  Mass.,  Dec  20. —John  Howell,  aged  seventy-four,  died  to-day. 
He  was  born  in  England,  and  was  one  of  the  Six  Hundrel  in  the  famous  charge 
at  Balaklava.    He  was  also  a  veteran  of  the  civil  war. 

"This  illustrates  vividly  a  mental  attitude  altogether 
too  prevalent  among  us  Americans.  Here  was  an  old 
warrior  who  had  laid  down  his  arms  forever  and  gone  to 
join  the  countless  millions  of  good  Soldiers  who  have 
passed  over  to  the  majority.  It  is  right  aud  fitting  that 
his  death  should  be  honorably  recorded  and  handed  down 
to  memory  in  the  complimei)tar3'  terms  <iuoted  above,  and 
I  hope  that  tender  hands  may  keep  his  grave  green  for 
ages  to  come.     But! 

"What  is  there  in  this  career  that  appeals  most  power- 
fully to  our  interest  and  sympathy?  Is  it  the  fact  that 
Howell  was  a  'Balaklava  hero,'  one  of  the  'Six  Hun- 
dred' that  made  the  'famous  charge?'  or  is  it  because 
he  was  a  'veteran  of  the  civil  war?'  Evidently  the  for- 
mer. The  emphasis,  the  capitals  and  the  headline  all 
show  that  in  the  miiid  of  the  writer  the  Crimean  chapter 
in  this  man's  life  was  the  glorious  chapter,  while  his  civil 
war  experiences  were  but  an  episode. 

"And  so  we  find  it  everywhere.  All  our  examples  and 
illustrations  in  military  matters  are  drawn  from  foreign 
warfare,  and  the  heroes  of  our  own  great  contest,  the  men 
who  made  the  glorious  history  of  1861-1865,  are  passing 
into  oblivion  as  'veterans  of  the  civil  war.' 

"I  really  believe  that  the  reason  why  this  is  true  is  our 
ignorance  of  our  own  history.  I  can  find  you  twenty 
men  who  are  quite  familiar  with  Austerlitz,  Jeua,  Water- 
loo, Inkermann,  Lucknowand  Sedan  to  oue  who  can  give 
you  any  information  about  Spottsj'lvania,  Antietam,  or 
Stone  River. 

"Was  the  Balaklava  matter  unparalled  in  history  ?  Was 
there  anything  in  our  great  civil  war  that  could  compare 


PREFACE.  Vll 

with  it?  Any  instances  of  devotion;  any  percentage  of 
loss  nearb'  equal?  Well,  yes — there  were  maneuvers 
and  charges;  there  were  instances  of  self-sacrifice  and 
loss;  scores  of  them  that  far  exceed  the  glorious  record 
made  by  the  light  brigade  on  that  October  morning  in 
1854,  or  indeed  any  record  made  by  any  military  organ- 
ization other  than  American  during  this  century! 

"How  would  this  read  as  an  obituary  notice  in  one  of 
our  American  journals? 

FRANKLIN  HERO  DEAD  AT  NASHVILLE. 
"  Nashville,  Tenn.,  Dec.  20.— John  Howell  died  here  yesterday,  aged  seventy- 
four  years.  He  was  born  in  Williamson  county,  was  one  of  Cheatham's  division 
in  the  civil  war.  and  took  part  in  the  famous  charge  asainst  Schofleld's  breast- 
works at  Franklin.  In  his  3'outh  he  was  a  member  of  the  British  army,  and  was 
present  at  the  light  cavalry  affair  at  Balaklava. 

"I  fear  that  the  average  reader  would  be  tempted  to  ex- 
claim with  Virgil  ' Sic parvis  companere  magna,'  but  the 
average  reader  would  be  wrong  if  he  did.  There  was 
greater  loss,  greater  sacrifice,  and  more  bloody  fighting 
on  the  part  of  'Old  Frank's'  (Cheatham's)  men  on  that 
beautiful  Wednesday  evening  in  November,  1864,  than 
took  place  on  any  field  in  the  Crimean  War.  While 
thirty-seven  per  cent,  of  Lord  Cardigan's  six  hundred 
and  seventy-three  men  were  killed  and  wounded,  more 
than  half  of  Cleburne's  and  Brown's  two  entire  divisions 
were  left  dead  or  wounded  in  the  fields  and  gardens  of 
that  little  Tennessee  town.  And  how  many  of  us  know 
anything  about  it? 
/*  "President  McKinley  well  said  at  Atlanta  the  other 
(  day  that  it  was  time  for  the  nation  to  care  for  the  graves 
\  of  the  Confederate  soldiers.  By  all  means  let  us  care  for 
them  and  keep  their  memory  fresh.  The  glory  won  bj' 
these  men  and  their  leaders  on  many  a  hard-fought  field 
belongs  to  the  American  nation,  and  should  be  perpetu- 
ated by  monuments  of  granite  and  marble  on  each  and  all 
of  these  fields,  but  especially  should  we  insist  that  the 
deeds  of  all  our  soldiers  should  be  carefully  and  truth- 
fully enshrined  in  the  pages  of  history,  and  proudly 
celebrated  b3'  orator  and  poet. 

"Mr.  John  Fiske,  in  writing  of  the  battle  of  Guilford 
Court  House  in  1781,  says:  'The  British  fighting  was 
magnificent,  worthy  to  be  compared  with  that  of  Thomas 


viii  PREFACE. 

and  his  men  at  Chickamauga. '  Thank  you,  Mr.  Fiske. 
you  did  not  need  to  go  to  the  'lieights  of  Mont  St.  Jeau' 
for  an  example  of  stubborn,  dogged  tenacity,  but  found 
quite  as  good  a  one  in  the  pages  of  our  own  history. 

"Yes!  Thomas  and  Chickamauga,  Jackson  and  the  old 
railroad  grade  at  Groveton,  D.  H.  Hill  in  the  sunken 
lane  at  Sharpsburg,  Porter  at  Gaines*  Mill  for  stubborn 
tenacity;  the  Second  Corps  under  Couch  at  Fredericks- 
burg, Pickett's  division  at  Gettysburg,  Cheatham  at 
Franklin  for  daring  valor  against  the  impossible.  In- 
stances could  be  multiplied  and  examples  given  of  every 
possible  military  virtue — courage,  patience,  obedience, 
endurance,  almost  beyond  the  power  of  man,  all  -were 
illustrated  by  the  American  soldier  in  the  great  civil  war 
to  a  degree  that  has  never  been  excelled  and  seldom 
equalled  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

"C.  G.  B. 

"Black  Hall,  Conn.,  Dec.  24." 


CONTENTS. 


PART  L— ORE  IN  THE  BANK. 

CHAPTER  I.  PAOK 

"That'sMe!" 7 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Judge's  Daughter 17 

CHAPTER  III. 
Her  Two  Best  Friends 23 

CHAPTER  IV. 
Susie's  Victory 34 

CHAPTER  V. 
^awyer  Jordan's  Mistake 44 

CHAPTER  VI. 
' '  Bonyparte  a-Crossin'  the  Alps  " 57 

PART  II.— RAW  MATERIALS. 

CHAPTER  VII. 
"  I  Don't  Care  if  There's  a  Million  !" 64 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
A  Strange  Thing  Happens  in  Clayton 75 

CHAPTER  IX. 
What  the  Vagabond  Winds  Heard 86 

CHAPTER  X. 

The  Fires  are  Lighted 93 

CHAPTER  XI. 
Was  He  Born  to  be  Hung? 10» 


X  ~  CONTENTS. 

PART  III.— THE  FIERY  FURNACE. 

CHAPTER  XII.  PAOB 

Ethel  Lynde 118 

CHAPTER  XIII. 
The  Coming  and  Going  of  Faces 128 

CHAPTER  XIV. 
Setting  the  Battle  Front 140 

CHAPTER  XV. 
The  Thirty-first  of  December,  1862 153 

CHAPTER  XVI. 
"The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me  !" 160 

CHAPTER  XVII. 
The  Hour  and  the  Man 173 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 
In  the  Devil's  Name 192 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
The  Clock  Strikes  Four 203 

CHAPTER  XX. 
"  He  Tried  to  Choke  Me  to  Death  !" 215 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
A  Rash  Volunteer 225 

CHAPTER  XXII. 
The  Superiority  of  Hindsight  over  Foresight 232 

CHAPTER  XXin. 
Cautious  Blundering 246 

PART  IV.— HIS  INSTRUMENTS. 

CHAPTER    XXIV. 
The  Nineteenth  of  Septembfr,  1868 , 253 

CHAPTER    XXV. 
The  Twentieth  of  Septeinlier,  1803     257 

CHAPTER    XXVI. 
Courage,  Then  and  Now 267 


CONTENTS.  Xi 

CHAPTER    XXVII.  pagk 

A  Regiment  at  Chickamauga  269 

CHAPTER    XXVIII. 
One  Surprise  After  Another 295 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 
A  Fool's  Paradise  306 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
The  Inevitable 316 

CHAPTER  XXXI. 
The  Lost  is  Found 327 

CHAPTER  XXXII. 
A  Noble  Grief,  Nobly  Borne 333 

CHAPTER  XXXIII, 
Drained  to  the  Dregs 338 

CHAPTER  XXXIV. 
Sleep  is  uot  Death 346 


GOD'S  WAR. 


PART  I. 
Ore  in  The  Batsk. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"that's  me!" 

If  warm  at  all,  an  April  afternoon  in  Clayton  vras 
always,  in  the  days  of  which  I  write,  pretty  sure  to  be 
either  one  thing  or  another;  that  is  to  say,  either  very 
moist,  showery,  steamy  and  warm,  or  very  soft,  balmy 
and  warm.  In  the  former  case  of  course  the  clouds  came 
and  went  in  masses  across  the  heavens,  dropping  their 
fatness  as  they  moved  about;  in  the  latter  case  the  blue 
vault  was  exquisitely  clear  and  joyous,  and  seemed  like 
a  great  transparent  sounding-board  to  send  down  to  the 
earth  and  into  the  rather  dull  ears  with  which  Clayton 
abounded,  the  songs  of  the  spring  birds  which  were 
almost  as  plentiful  there  as  the  swelling  buds  on  the 
trees. 

The  particular  April  afternoon  of  which  I  am  writing 
was  in  1861,  and  it  was  of  the  soft,  warm  and  heavenly 
description.  The  atmosphere  was  of  the  mildly  exhil- 
arating sort  that  puts  healthy  blood  up  to  that  degree  of 
high  animal  spirits  which  gives  perfect  confidence,  cast- 
ing out  all  fear,  driving  megrims  and  blue  devils  to  the 
rear,  so  that  the  impossible  doesn't  seem  to  be  after  all 
much  more  than  a  good,  square,  invigorating  before- 
breakfast  task. 


8  GOD'S   WAR. 

The  grass  had  not  yet  dared  to  venture  fuUj'  forth  in 
the  Clayton  latitude,  but  it  showed  a  timid  inclination  to 
make  the  venture  before  long  if  nothing  serious  should 
happen  mcanwhil(3  tu  iiwa  it  a  backset.  There  ^vere  spots 
(in  the  black  mould  which  filled  old  Aunt  Nan's  circular 
flower  beds  surrounded  with  brick.s  planted  deeply  on 
end,  for  instance)  where  the  green  shoots  of  the  crocuses 
made  a  swaggeringly  brave  show,  while  the  flowers  them- 
selves wore  an  air  of  having  always  been  there — whereas 
they  had  just  been  born.  From  the  swaths  cut  in  the 
heavy  woods  which  surrounded  the  village — the  swaths 
north,  south,  east  and  west  cut  by  the  county  roads 
which  went  out  through  soggy  swamp-lands  and  by  the 
side  of  obstinate  black-looking  fields,  through  these 
channels  the  breath  of  the  young  spring  came  mingled 
and  chilled  with  the  cold  dark  vapors  of  dying  winter; 
but  in  the  village  itself  spring  had  fairly  established  her- 
self and  the  deceptive  mildness  was  provoking  to  active 
persons  who  grew  heated  but  were  restrained  from  dofling 
winter  garments  through  a  fear  of  the  rheumatism  and  in- 
iluenza  which  experience  had  taught  them  lay  perdu 
ready  to  pounce  upon  the  unduly  precipitate. 

There  was  an  pJmost  complete  silence  in  the  town,  dis- 
turbed by  little  save  the  occasional  bang  of  a  hasty  door 
or  the  clatter  of  a  kitchen  utensil  as  an  unwary  cat  or  a 
vigilant  housewife  interfered  momentarily  with  the  estab- 
lished order  of  things  in  the  well-kept  rooms  which 
served  in  most  Clayton  homes  not  only  for  cooking  but 
for  dining  and  sitting  rooms  as  well.  Through  the  doors 
left  open,  from  an  unconscious  desire  to  drink  in  the 
odors  of  the  awakening  season,  came  occasional  tinkles  of 
low  laughter  as  matrons  and  maidens  sat  over  their  sew- 
ing and  lightly  discussed  the  small  gossip  belonging  to 
the  love-making  of  the  little  world  in  the  woods;  and  the 
tang  of  the  machinery  in  the  new  planing  mill  down  by 
the  creek  had  a  dreamy  tone  and  rhythm  that  lulled  and 
soothed. 

The  farmers  were  all  busy  with  a  deperate  attempt  to 
avail  theiuselves  of  the  fortunate  circumstance  of  the 
coming  together  of  two  clear,  warm  days  without  rain  to 
get  forward  with  their  plowing ;  and  not  more  than  two 


GOD  S   WAR.  9 

country  wagons  could  be  seen  standing  on  Main  Street. 
The  shopkeepers  sat  within  their  doors  patiently  wait- 
ing, as  becomes  far-seeing  traders  who  know  that  seed- 
time must  precede  harvest,  and  that  wheat  cannot  be  sold 
till  it  has  been  both  sowed  and  reaped.  There  was  not 
much  chafing  in  their  tranquil  souls  at  this  enforced 
leisure — their  expenses  were  light  and  their  small  profits 
satisfactory  because  sufficient  for  their  modest  wants. 

The  clink  of  Xat  Kellogg 's  hammer  had  ceased  for 
some  .ninutes  and  that  industrious  young  man,  with  his 
black  hands  and  sooty  brow,  his  leathern  apron  rolled  up 
to  his  waist  and  his  hair  lightly  lifting  with  each  idle 
breeze,  stood  leaning  against  the  side  of  the  smithj'  door 
idly  gazing  into  vacancy. 

There  were  good  possibilities  evident  in  Nat's  square, 
manly  face.  It  showed  no  marks  of  deep  thought  it  is 
true,  and  to  the  practiced  eye  was  plainly  indicative  of  a 
not  very  great  nor  harassing  experience  mentally,  but  it 
was  good-humored  and  strong, from  the  broad  brow  with 
the  frank,  direct  eyes  beneath,  down  to  the  rather  large 
nose  and  wide  mouth  and  the  firm,  massive  chin  which 
was  not  so  ugly  but  seemed  as  powerful  as  a  bulldog's. 
Below,  beginning  with  a  round,  columnar  neck,  the  fig- 
ure was  that  of  a  young  Hercules ;  and  was  planted  on 
broad,  wholesome  feet  which  might  clearly  be  relied 
upon  in  any  emergency. 

The  fire  in  his  forge  was  slowly  dying  out  as  his  rev- 
erie grew  deeper,  notwithstanding  the  fact  that  he  was 
doubtless  thinking  of  nothing  at  all.  He  had  simply 
yielded  to  the  influences  surrounding  him,  and  having  a 
clear  conscience,  generally  speaking,  toward  God  and 
man,  was  steeping  himself  like  a  well-kept  animal  in  an 
atmosphere  of  perfect  comfort  and  content. 

At  last  a  sound,  hollow  and  thumping  came  from  the 
east,  and  rousing  himself  to  glance  down  the  street,  Nat 
saw  ahorse  with  a  rider  approaching  him  at  a  leisurely 
gait  iu  harmony  with  the  day  and  tho  scene.  The  hol- 
low, thumping  noise  was  explained  by  the  fact  that  the 
horse  was  crossing  the  small,  mud-covered  wooden 
bridge  which  spanned  Eagle  Creek,  a  few  hundreds  of 
yards  off.     Nat  was  a  young  ma»  to  have  a  shop  of  his 


10  god's  war. 

own — he  was  barely  twentj- -three — but  he  was  quick  of 
apprehension,  which  explained  his  success,  perhaps. 

"Tom  Bailee',"  he  said  to  himself,  keeping  his  eyes  on 
horse  and  rider;  "on  Bill's  horse.  Shoe  off;  left  hind 
foot.  Queer,  how  that  old  sorrel  oan't  never  keep  a  shoe 
on  like  any  other  horse;"  and  he  turned  to  pump  his 
bellows  and  blow  his  eoals  into  life.  "Wonder  if  he 
\Yants  a  new  shoe?"  and  he  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at 
his  approaching  visitor — "No,  Tom's  got  the  old  one 
with  him."  He  rolled  down  his  apron,  gave  his  coals  a 
jiat  or  two  with  a  short  iron  rod  lying  on  the  forge,  and 
turned  to  greet  his  customer. 

"Seems  to  me  if  Bill  had  just  one  more  horse  like  that 
one  he'd  save  money  if  he'd  keep  a  blacksmith  on  his 
farm,  wouldn't  he?" 

"I  don't  s'pose  he'd  lose  much  if  he  did — old  Blaze 
can  kick  off  shoes  faster  than  Bill  iikes  to  pay  to  have 
them  put  on  again,  I  notice,"  and  the  rider,  a  boy  just 
approaching  manhood,  slid  off  tlie  horse's  side  as  he 
came  to  a  halt.  After  throwing  the  reins  of  the  blind- 
bridle  over  the  hitching-post  he  handed  the  cast  shoe  to 
the  smith,  who,  glancing  at  it  for  a  moment  grasped  it 
with  his  tongs  and  thrust  it  into  the  fire,  while  he  re- 
sumed work  with  the  bellows  handle. 

Tom  Bailey  was  apparently  rather  deli(;ate  and  verging 
upon  the  age  of  twenty.  In  point  of  fact  he  was  healthy 
and  strong  and  not  much  over  seventeen.  He  was  of  a 
light  build  and  medium  height,  with  small  hands  and  feet 
and  limbs  moulded  like  a  girl's.  The  spring  sun  had 
already  begun  to  tan  him,  but  beneath  his  hat  his  skin 
showed  white  and  clear  where  his  short,  silky  curls 
allowed  it  to  be  seen.  His  nose  was  straight  and  thin, 
but  with  generously  expansive  nostrils;  his  mouth  was 
sensitive  and  mobile  and  as  tender  as  a  woman's,  with  a 
short  upper  lip  that  could  curl  as  scornfully  as  a  maiden's 
while  the  fairly  rounded  and  well  set  chin  was  as  inno- 
cent of  a  beard  as  a  baby's. 

"You'd  have  laughed  till  you  died  to  see  how  old  Blaze 
got  rid  of  that  shoe  j'esterday  morning.  Bill  wanted  me 
to  go  over  to  Jackson's  to  see  if  the  boys  would  come  to 
the  barn-raising  and  so  he  sent  Pete  Schultze  down  to 


GOD'S  WAR.  11 

curry  Blaze  off.  Blaze  would  rather  have  me  curry  him 
than  anybody  else,  but  he  hates  Pete  somehow,  like 
poison.  I  thought  there'd  be  fun;  bo  I  poked  around  a 
little  and  sure  enough,  in  about  two  minutes  there  was 
the  thunderinest  racket  in  the  barn  you  ever  heard,  and 
Pete  came  piling  out,  hair  on  end,  as  if  the  Old  Scratch 
was  after  him.  'Got  in  himmel!  dot  horse  was  kill  me!' 
I  just  laid  down  and  rolled  over  with  laughing." 

"Bully  for  Blaze!  He's  an  American,  that  horse  is, 
and  don't  want  no  kraut-eatin'  Dutchman  around  him. 
Did  he  hurt  him?" 

"No.  He  kicked  his  shoe  off  though,  and  as  Aunt 
Sallie  wants  to  drive  over  the  Corduroy  Road  down  to 
John's  to-morrow.  Bill  told  me  to  fetch  him  in  and  get 
him  shod." 

"Sorry  he  didn't  give  the  Dutchman  just  one  welt 
for  luck,"  answered  Nat,  as  he  lifted  Blaze's  foot  and 
began  to  pare  the  horny  hoof. 

"Bill  was  awful  mad,"  said  the  boy.      "He  cussed  the 
Dutchman  till  all  was  blue  for  awhile  and  then  he  turned 
on  me  because  I  laughed." 
"What  did  he  say  to  you?" 

"Oh,  he  said  I'd  never  amount  to  anything — that 
mother  had  spoiled  me  sending  me  to  school  so  much, 
and  all  that  sort  o'  thing  he  always  says  when  he  gets 
mad." 

"Why,  you  hadn't  done  anything!" 
"That  made  no  difference.     He  let  me  have  it  all  the 
same." 

"I'll  bet  a  little  red  apple  you  got  even  with  him." 
"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  answered  Tom,  with  an  indolent 
curl  of  the  lip.  "I  don't  say  much  to  Bill  when  he  gets 
into  a  tantrum,  nor  at  any  other  time,  for  the  matter  of 
that.  You  see  he's  my  uncle,  if  he  is  only  ten  yea,rs 
older  than  I  am,  and  I  don't  like  to  say  anything  dis- 
respectful to  him,  and  I  never  do  except  when  he 
pushes  me  too  hard.  What's  the  use?  /  don't  care 
what  he  says  so  long  as  he  don't  fling  out  too  much  about 
the  way  mother  brought  me  up.  He  has  no  business  to 
do  that.  She's  been  dead  a  year  now,  and  if  she  did  have 
too  good  an  opinion  of  me  its  none  o'  his  business.  I 
don't  care  what  be  thinks  o'  me." 


12  god's  war. 

A  pause  ensued,  during  which  Nat  deftly  shaped  the 
shoe  and  litted  it  to  the  hoof. 

"Must  be  mighty  hard — whoa,  there,  you  great  club- 
footed  fool! — luighty  Lard  to  have  to  keep  on  good  terms 
— hand  me  that  hammer,  will  you? — not  that  one,  the 
other — with  him." 

"I  don't  have  to." 

■'But  suppose  he  turns  you  out." 

"He  can  do  that  just  as  soon  as  he  pleases.  I'd  be  a 
fine  specimen  if  I  couldn't  get  along  without  Bill  Bailey! 
What  in  the  world  did  you  make  those  corks  so  sharp 
for?" 

"They  are  sharp,  ain't  they?"  replied  Nat,  looking  at 
the  shoe  with  great  satisfaction.  "The  next  tinie  he  gets 
a  whack  at  that  Dutchman  he'll  leave  his  mark  on  him  or 
I'm  no  "blacksmith. " 

Again  a  hollow  thumping  sound  smote  the  ear,  but  this 
time  the  blows  upon  the  bridge  fell  fast  and  told  of  a 
high  rate  of  speed. 

"Hello!  a  runaway  I  reckon.  No,  it's  Jim  Druett. 
"What  the  devil — he  went  over  to  Bryan's  Station  this 
morning  early."  Bryan's  was  the  nearest  telegraph 
station — fifteen  miles  distant.  "T\'hy  he'll  kill  that 
horse!" 

"They've  fired  on  Fort  Sumter  and  the  President  has 
issued  a  proclamation  for  seventy-five  thousand  soldiers!" 
shouted  Jim,  as  he  reined  in  his  reeking  steed. 

'That's  me  !"  ejaculated  Nat,  as  he  threw  off  his  apron, 
put  on  his  hat  and  started  for  the  street. 

"And  me,  too,"  said  Tom,  in  a  low  tone,  without  im- 
mediately changing  his  attitude. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Nat?"  asked  Jim. 

"I'm  going  to  ring  the  bell,"  was  the  quiet  reply,  and 
in  a  moment  Nat  had  traversed  the  half-square  between 
his  shop  and  the  courthouse,  and  instantly  the  bell 
begun  to  clamor  with  a  noise  that  might  have  waked  the 
dead. 

The  shopkeepers  left  the  serenit.v  of  their  quiet  shelves; 
the  women  and  maidens  came  to  the  door;  the  shoe- 
maker  dropped  his  last,  the  carpenter  his  jackplane,  the 
doctor  his  Medical   Beiieic,  the  preacher  his  text;  the 


god's  war.  13 

boys  out  of  school  pocketed  their  marbles  and  scurried 
on  to  the  courthouse  siiuare;  the  boys  in  school  left  off 
the  making  of  spit  bails  and  sat  on  nettles;  the  school- 
master raised  his  brovv's  for  an  instant  and  then  dropped 
them  and  tried  to  look  unconscious  of  anything  extraor- 
dinary in  the  atmosphere;  the  streets  began  to  fill  and — 
still  the  bell  kept  on.  The  county  officials,  like  rats 
leaving  a  cheese,  thronged  into  the  corridor  of  the  court- 
house; the  lawyers  from  their  dens  joined  them.  "With 
one  consent  it  was  agreed  that  beyond  dispute  something 
had  happened.  What  it  was  no  one  knew  at  first,  for 
Jim  had  gone  to  the  stables  with  his  horse,  leaving  his 
work  to  be  carried  on  by  Nat,  while  nobody  thought  to 
say  anything  to  Tom,  who  sat  unconcernedly  on  an 
empty  dry-goods  bos  on  the  corner,  lazily  watching  the 
bees  as  they  buzzed  out  of  their  hive. 

Something  had  happened — everybody  knew  that,  but 
nobody  knew  just  what — and  in  the  uncertainty  this 
something  loomed  up  with  startling  possibilities.  Here 
and  there  a  man  had  hard  work  to  keep  his  teeth  from 
chattering,  as  the  mysterious  insistence  of  the  bell  grew 
more  and  more  impressive,  and  almost  every  one  felt  a 
chilly  sensation  travel  up  and  down  his  spinal  column. 
It  wasn't  a  fire — the  bell  was  not  ringing  the  fire  alarm. 
Perhaps  it  was  a  murder. 

That  it  meant  war  perhaps  not  one  in  the  now  populous 
street  had  the  slightest  notion,  for,  while  many  were  ripe 
for  a  fraj'  with  the  South,  and  war  talk  had  been  plenti- 
ful, it  is  true,  for  some  time,  yet  there  had  been  so  much 
of  it  and  for  so  long  a  time  that  verj'  few  attached  any 
significance  to  it.  They  had  grown  accustomed  to  it, 
and  had  a  quiet  conviction  that  the  troubles  between  the 
North  and  the  South  would  somehow  be  arranged  with- 
out a  war  after  all.  At  last,  as  with  one  mind,  the  mass 
moved  quickly  toward  the  public  square,  and  Aleck 
Anderson  climbed  to  the  cupola. 

"What  in  the  world  is  the  matter?"  he  asked. 

"Here,  take  hold  of  this  rope  and  keep  *er  going.  I'm 
going  downstairs." 

"But  what  does  it  mean?"  again  demanded  Aleck, 
complying  nevertheless  with  Nat's  command  and  pulling 
Justily  at  the  rope. 


14  god's  war. 

"It  means  war.  They've  fired  on  Fort  Sumter,  and 
tlie  President  has  called  for  soldiers,  volunteers" — and 
Xat  was  gone,  while  the  clangor  of  the  bell  took  on  fresh 
vigor  and  a  more  alarming  tone. 

At  the  bottom  of  the  btairs  Nat  met  Lawyer  Jordan, 
short,  stout,  scant  of  breath,  important  and  fussy. 

"What's  that  bell  ringing  for?"  he  demanded  im- 
periously. 

"  'Cause  there's  a  fellow  pulling  the  rope,"  and  Nat 
passed  on.     Lawyer  Jordan  followed. 

"What  is  the  meaning  of  this?"  he  asked. 

"It  means  war.  They've  fired  on  Fort  Sumter,  and 
the  President  has  called  for  volunteers." 

A  murmur  ran  through  the  crowd  as  the  words,  uttered 
in  a  clear,  loud  voice,  were  understood  by  all. 

"Well,  what  of  it?     Why  should  the  bell  be  rung?" 

"So's  to  get  the  boys  here.  Clayton  ain't  going  to  be 
left  behind.  We're  going  to  raise  a  company  and  send  a 
dispatch  to-night  from  Bryan's  to  the  government  that 
Ave're  ready  for  marching  orders." 

"Who  gave  the  orders?     Who's  doing  this?" 

"I  am." 

"By  whose  authority?" 

"By  my  own  authority.  The  authority  of  Jigadier 
Brindle  Nathaniel  Kellogg,  Esquire,  blacksmith." 

"Why,  you've  no  right " 

"Oh,  you  be  d — d!"  And  the  crowd  laughed  in  a 
nervous  waj',  showing  increasing  excitement. 

"You're  impudent  —  you're — you're— sassy, "  fumed 
Lawj'er  Jordan,  dropping  into  the  vernacular  in  his 
bewildered  heat. 

"Of  course  I'm  sassy.  It  stands  me  in  hand  to  be 
sassj'.  It  stands  all  of  us  in  hand  to  be  sassy.  We've 
got  to  lick  the  South,  and  we  can't  do  it  if  we're  not 
sassy." 

"Hurrah  for  Nat!"  cried  the  crowd. 

"Yust  BO  goot  dot  I  got  my  drum  out,"  said  a  voice. 

"That's  right,  Dutchy,"  said  Nat.  "Go  get  your 
drum  and  beat  it  all  over  town,  and  tell  the  boys  to  come 
here  right  away.  There's  one  Dutchman  that's  good  for 
something,  anyhow,"  he  added,  as  he  turned  and  led  the 
way  into  the  courtroom. 


god's  war.  15 

The  crowd  followed  him,  and  more  came;  men  pale 
and  excited,  women  red  and  apprehensive  and  children 
round-eyed  and  curious.  They  found  their  tong;ues,  and 
the  jargion  of  Babel  ensued,  in  the  pauses  of  which  the 
Dutchman's  drum  was  heard  rattling  in  the  streets  as  he 
marched  about  with  a  queer,  mechanical,  wooden  sort  of 
a  step,  which  he  had  learned  in  his  Fatherland. 

"Well,  Captain  Kellogg,"  said  satirical  Lawyer  Jor- 
dan, as  the  room  became  crowded  to  suffocation  and  time 
passed  rapidly  away,  while  nothing  was  done,  "you've 
got  us  here,  what  do  you  intend  to  do  with  us?" 

"We  want  to  enlist — you're  a  lawyer — tell  us  how  to 
do  it,"  said  Nat,  feeling  that  perhaps  after  all  his  enter- 
prise had  outgrown  him. 

"You  can't  expect  it  on  such  short  notice,"  returned  the 
lawyer.  "This  is  a  very  serious  matter.  We  want  to 
consider  it  calmly.  I'm  quite  willing  to  explain  this 
thing  to  our  people,  but  I  must  have  time  to  prepare  my- 
self. If  you  will  wait  till  to-morrow  night  we  can  do 
things  decently  and  in  order.  By  that  time — although 
itis  very  shortnotice — I  will  have  a  speech  prepared " 

"Oh,  speech  be  bothered!"  cried  Nat.  "We  don't 
want  no  speeches — the  time  for  talk  has  passed,"  and  he 
stepped  up  to  the  judge's  bench. 

"Fellow  citizens!"  he  began  in  a  loud,  formal  way, 
after  he  had  rapped  the  assemblage  to  order.  "No,  I 
don't  mean  that — that's  too  Fourth  of  July — I  mean — 
boys,  the  Southerners  are  mad  because  Abe  Lincoln,  the 
rail-splitter,  was  elected  President,  and  they  think  that 
cooks  their  goose  on  the  nigger  slave  business,  and  I 
reckon  it  does.  So  they've  gone  to  work  to  bust  up  the 
government.  They  say  they  can  lick  us.  They  think 
because  they  don't  do  no  work  that  one  of  them  can  lick 
five  of  us.  Maybe  they  can  and  maybe  they  can't. 
We'll  give  'em  a  whirl  anyhow  just  for  luck.  They 
sneer  at  us  because  we  work,  and  earn  our  living  in  the 
sweat  of  our  brows,  according  to  Scripture.  Thej'  call 
us  'mudsills,'  that's  what  they  call  us,  and  think  that  us 
men  who  work  for  our  living  while  they  live  off  of  the 
work  of  their  nigger  slaves  like  a  lot  of  sneaks — they 
think  we  won't  fight.     Maybe  they're  right,  but  I  guess 


16  god's  war. 

they  ain't.  The  President  wants  volunteers  and  he  wants 
a  com}')an3'  from  Clayton.  Here's  a  piece  of  i)aper,  and 
every  man  who  puts  his  name  on  it  means  that  he  will  go 
for  a  soldier.  This  ain't  no  time  for  frills  and  spread- 
eagle  and  flapdoodle.  Thei^e's  my  name.  Now  who's 
the  next  fellow?" 

"Here  he  is,"  said  Tom,  standing  at  Nat's  elbow. 

"Bully  for  you,"  replied  Nat,  and  he  stepped  aside  to 
make  room  for  the  young  men  "who  came  thronging  for- 
ward to  enlist. 


god's  war.  17 


CHAPTER  11. 

THE    judge's   daughter. 

The  judge's  daughter  was  tall  and  fair,  with  blue  eyes 
that  were  of  great  depth  and  earnestness ;  and  perhaps 
they  never  showed  so  much  of  the  latter  quality  as  when 
the  young  woman  was  inclined  to  be  just  a  little  bit 
coquettish.  Alas!  she  was  a  daughter  of  Eve  and  there- 
foie  what  else  could  have  been  expected  of  her?  But  she 
never  carried  her  coquettish  tendencies  beyond  a  safe 
line.  She  kept  her  conscience  clear  and  her  dignity  and 
self-respect  unimpaired.  The  boldest  antagonist  she 
ever  encountered  never  dreamed  of  becoming  familiar. 
He  flirted  with  due  decorum  as  a  courtier  might  take  his 
proper  pleasure  with  the  queen. 

As  merry  a  girl  as  all  America  could  show,  Margaret 
Henderson  never  became  "Maggie,"  even  to  her  chosen 
companions.  The  closest  of  them  sometimes  in  their 
gushing  moments  called  her  "Margie;"  but  it  is  clearlj' 
to  their  credit  that  this  very  absurd  diminutive  never 
became  popular  with  them.  The  old  judge  himself 
always  said  "Margaret"  and  his  dignified  utterance  of 
the  name  had  in  it  a  lingering  tenderness  which  his 
acquaintances  knew  well  how  to  account  for.  It  was 
not  strange  that  the  name  borne  by  two  such  noble 
women  as  the  moiher  and  the  daughter  should  grow  to  be 
dear  to  him — nor  would  the  circumstance  that  the 
mother  had  slept  peacefully  for  long  years  under  tanglod 
grasses  and  a  weeping-willow  in  the  low  graveyard  by  the 
river  side  be  calculated  to  make  him  less  reverential 
when  he  took  her  name  upon  his  lips. 

The  judge's  daughter  was  tall  and  fair  and  twenty ;  and 
she  lived  a  quiet,  tranquil,  and  very  happy  life  with  her 
father  in  the  great,  red-brick  mansion  which  stood   back 


18  GOD'S  WAR. 

from  the  street,  surrounded  by  large  and  well-kept 
grounds.  The  house  was  the  finest  in  the  -village  and 
one  of  the  oldest;  having  been  built  when  the  judge  was 
a  thriving  middle-aged  lawyer;  before  he  went  on  the 
Supreme  Bench,  and  the  year  after  he  married  Margaret's 
mother,  the  delicate  lady  whom  he  found  and  won  at 
Columbus,  the  State  capital  in  the  last  year  of  his  service 
as  attorney  general.  The  judge  had  retired  of  his  own 
will  from  the  bench  upon  the  adoption  of  the  constitu- 
tion of  '51,  and  pursued  a  studious,  uneventful  career, 
devoted  to  his  daughter  his  books  and  the  care  of 
orphans'  estates,  left  to  his  charge  by  loving  parents  who 
appreciated  his  integrity  no  less  than  his  shrewdness  as 
an  investor  and  manager. 

Judge  Henderson  had  no  doubts  as  to  his  perfect 
knowledge  of  his  daughter.  No  father  ever  has  such 
doubts  if  he  is  a  loving  father;  and  Judge  Henderson 
loved  Margaret  so  much  that  it  ma^'  be  said  that  he  lived 
for  her.  But  he  had  not  the  key  to  the  strong  and  noble 
nature  of  the  girl,  whatever  he  may  have  imagined  in  his 
fondness.  That  key  was  held  by  another,  who  used  it  to 
unlock  the  heart  of  the  maiden  and  walk  into  its  sacred 
precincts  and  take  up  his  abode  there,  long  before  either 
he,  the  lucky  fellow,  or  Margaret  herself  suspected  the  fact. 
And  that  man  was  Miles  Bancroft,  the  young  lawyer  who 
had  settled  down  in  Clayton  only  a  year  or  two  before 
the  time  at  which  this  story  o]iens. 

Miles  Bancroft  dropped  down  in  Clayton  at  the  close 
of  a  summer's  day,  "as  if,"  to  use  the  common  expres- 
sion in  which  the  Claytonians  were  wont  to  formulate  the 
fact  of  his  sudden  appearance,  "he  had  dropped  down 
from  the  clouds."  In  order  that  there  shall  be  no  mis- 
take as  to  the  meaning  of  these  good  people,  it  is  only 
fair  to  explain  that  w^hile  they  located  heavenly  apper- 
tainings  in  the  skies,  thej'  had  no  thought  of  attributing 
angelic  qualities  or  celestial  attributes  to  the  newcomer. 
They  merely  meant  to  convey  the  idea  that  he  came  sud- 
denly, unheralded,  and  nobody  knew  where  from.  The 
fact  that  the  burning  curiosity  to  know  all  about  him 
with  which  the  town  was  consumed  and  for  a  time  well- 
nigh  distracted  was  never  gratified  by  its  object,  had  the 


GOD'S  WAR.  19 

effect  to  fill  their  minds  with  suspicion,  as  all  will  admit 
was  right  and  proper;  which,  with  the  broadta'-inindfil 
gradually  wore  off  into  a  feeling  of  liking,  despite  Ban- 
croft's manifest  peculiarities,  but  with  the  narrower 
grew  into  a  doggedness  of  dull  dislike  where  it  did  not 
rise  to  a  sort  of  a  fearsome  and  sullen  respect. 

Did  not  that  fact  at  once  stamp  him  as  wrong?  His  habits 
differed  from  the  habits  of  the  male  Claytouians.  If  that 
did  not  prove  that  he  was  dangerous  did  it  not  go  far  to 
show  that  he  was  at  least  a  fool?  He  was  always  "bow- 
ing and  scraping" — he  took  his  hat  off  to  the  women — 
"haw!  haw!"  It  was  well  known  in  Clayton  that  these 
"French  airs"  were  sure  indications  of  a  namby-pamby, 
unmanly  spirit.  He  was  gentle  and  unobtrusive  in  his 
demeanor.  Did  not  that  show  that  he  lacked  in  the 
genuine  virtues  of  manhood?  Could  it  be  possible  that 
a  man  who  was  at  pains  to  keep  his  nails  clean  and  whose 
hands  were  white  was  really  a  man  of  courage — the  equal 
of  the  brave  bluff  fellow  who  scorned  soap  and  water 
only  less  than  he  did  personal  danger?  He  talked 
"school  talk."  The  home-bred  Clayton  lawyer  never 
dared  to  place  himself  so  far  above  the  people  till  he  had 
reached  middle  life  and  had  been  at  least  a  candidate  for 
the  legislature.  "Every  day  talk"  was  good  enough  for 
honest  people.  It  was  expected  of  the  schoolmaster  and 
the  preacher  and  Judge  Henderson  who  had  been  on  the 
Supreme  Bench  and  might  go  to  congress  "any  time  he 
was  a  mind  to  saj'  the  word,"  or  even  the  doctor  (but  in 
the  latter  case  it  would  be  wise  not  to  go  too  far),  to  talk 
smoothly  and  elegantly;  but  the  young  man  who  wanted 
to  become  popular  and  make  his  way  in  the  world 
oughtn't  to  put  on  too  manj'  airs!  Then  what  right  had 
he  to  laugh  and  shift  the  subject  so  adroitly  when  the 
conversation  took  a  turn  that  threatened  to  become  per- 
sonal to  himself?  There  was  something  wrong  about 
him  or  he  would  have  been  glad  to  tell  all  about  himself. 
Besides,  he  was  "so  infernally  stiff. "  There  was  nothing 
genial  and  companionable  about  him.  If  he  was  too 
"stuck  up"  to  loaf  in  the  grocery  with  the  boys  and  play 
seven-up  for  the  whiskey,  could  there  be  any  good  in 
him?     And  then  he  sung  tenor  in  the  choir;  and  the 


20  god's  war. 

girls—  what  a  lot  of  geese  women  are  anyhow!  Have  not 
you  and  I  had  our  oiiiuion  of  the  tenor,  uiy  friend,  as  we 
have  listened  to  the  enthusiastic  prattling  of  fair  ones 
whose  faces,  ah  me!  rise  sweet  and  gracious  out  of  the 
mists  of  the  past? 

So,  you  must  see  that  ^Miles  Bancroft  had  to  fight  his 
way.  He  did  it  manfully  too ;  and  while  at  the  time  of 
which  we  write  he  had  not  won  universal  popularity,  his 
condition  wus  mending.  He  had  a  sharp  struggle  for 
business;  for  it  stands  to  reason  that  these  fellows  who 
are  so  finicky  about  their  person  can't  know  anj'thing! 
If  Judge  Heudley  had  not  assigned  him  to  the  defense  in 
a  murder  case  which  no  one  else  would  undertake,  the 
accused  being  a  friendless  fellow  with  everything  against 
him.  Miles  would  probably  never  have  had  any  business 
offered  him.  But  he  showed  himself  so  good  a  lawyer  and 
so  strong  a  man  that  he  routed  all  the  cunning  of  the  cruel 
prosecuting  attorne.v;  tore  to  shreds  the  skillfully  woven 
mesh  of  circumstantial  evidence  with  which  the  trem- 
bling wretch  was  surrounded  and  in  which  he  was  nigh 
choked  to  death,  and  made  such  a  rousing  speech  to 
the  jury  that  the  populace  fairly  cheered  with  enthusiasm 
when  the  verdict  of  acquittal  was  brought  in.  When 
Judge  Henderson  came  down  from  the  bench  where  he 
had  a  seat  through  the  courtesy  of  the  presiding  justice 
and  shook  Miles  by  the  hand  and  complimented  him  and 
told  him  that  he  must  allow  him  to  become  acquainted 
with  him,  there  was  no  one  in  the  courthouse  who  did 
not  rejoice;  although  some  of  them  repented  of  their 
hasty  enthusiasm  when  cool  reason  afterward  showed 
them  that  he  was  still,  after  all,  in  default  in  the  matter 
of  dress  and  manners  and  his  personal  history. 

His  change  of  fortune  did  not  come  auy  too  soon.  He 
needed  it.  The  small  store  of  money  which  he  had 
brought  with  him  and  had  husbanded  so  ecouoniically, 
had  pretty  nearly  all  disappeared.  His  coat  had  urown 
shiny  from  brushing  and  he  needed  the  money  lie  begun 
to  make;  for,  among  other  things,  and  as  if  to  crown 
his  good  luck,  the  judge  invited  him  to  his  house  to  din- 
ner and  there  he  met  the  judge's  daughter. 

In  truth  Miles  might  just  as  well  have  yielded  his 


god's  war.  21 

story  to  Clayton,  for  it  was  the  simple  one  of  a  young 
man  who,  born  in  Boston,  had  been  educated  at  Harvard 
and  finished  at  the  law  school  just  as  his  father  died,  leav- 
ing him  a  few  hundred  dollars  and  the  world  before  him. 
He  had  dropped  into  Clayton  by  the  merest  accident, 
trusting  to  luck  to  choose  his  home;  and  had  got  his 
blood  up  when  the  people  showed  such  a  prickly  side  to 
him.  He  determined  to  conquer  them  and  to  do  it  with- 
out telling  them  anything  about  himself  either ;  not  be- 
cause he  wanted  to  conceal  anything,  for  there  was  noth- 
ing in  his  history  that  he  was  ashamed  of,  but  because  it 
was  "none  of  their  business."  He  did  tell  his  story, 
however,  to  the  judge  and  to  the  judge's  daughter,  and  as 
I  have  said  before,  he  soon  came  to  love  the  latter.  This 
happened  to  be  about  the  time  that  she  fell  in  love  with 
him;  although,  perhaps,  she  was  as  unconscious  of  her 
feeling  as  he  was  consumed  and  made  wretched  by  his. 

But  up  to  the  afternoon  when  Nat  Kellogg  rang  the 
courthouse  bell  with  such  lusty  vigor  no  word  of  love 
had  passed  between  the  two. 

And  poor  Tom,  too,  was  in  love  with  the  judge's  daugh- 
ter. I  don't  know  why  he  was,  unless  it  was  because  he 
had  no  business  to  be.  But  he  was.  And  Margaret  knew 
it,  too;  and  she  did  not  know  whether  she  was  glad  or 
sorry  that  the  boy  had  been  so  unwise.  Perhaps  this 
was  because  every  maiden  likes  to  be  loved,  and  she 
thought  that  as  he  was  such  a  boy  he  would  get  over  it  in 
time  without  hurt.  She  liked  him  very  much.  She  had 
known  his  mother,  a  gentle,  refined  and  loving  little 
woman  who  had  lived  a  life  of  devotion  to  her  strange, 
bright  boy,  and  when  the  mother  died  Margaret  thought 
that  Tom  would  find  it  pleasant,  perhaps,  to  be  with  her 
occasionally — pleasanter  than  at  his  uncle's  where  the 
surroundings  were  rude  and  unattractive.  And  Tom  was 
glad  to  go,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  kindly,  gracious 
young  woman  as  readily  as  the  bud  opens  at  the  touch  of 
the  sun.  But  of  course  he  said  nothing.  Aside  from  the 
fact  that  he  thought  that  a  great  gulf  was  fixed  between 
them  by  the  disparity  in  their  ages,  he  really  felt  a  lazy 
pleasure  in  his  passion  which,  at  the  least,  miglit  be 
marred  if  he  revealed  it.     The  occasional  jealous  pang 


22  god's  war. 

that  lio  felt  sometimes  when  he  met  Miles  Bancroft  at  the 
judge's  only  heightened  his  ardor  and  strengthened  his 
love.  He  didn't  like  Bancroft.  He  thought  Miles  pat- 
ronized him — perhaps  he  did.  And  then  he  was  a  little 
jealous,  of  course.  He  did  not  dislike  Miles  because  of 
the  reasons  that  had  set  so  many  Claytonians  against  the 
young  lawyer.  On  the  contrary  he  approved  of  those 
things  which  others  regarded  as  objections.  But  he  was 
always  uncomfortable  when  he  found  the  handsome,  pol- 
ished, patronizing  young  man  tete-a-tete  with   Margaret. 

Calling  upon  Margaret  in  the  evening  Miles  told  her  all 
of  the  events  of  the  day.  In  the  effort  to  resist  her  im- 
pulse to  analyze  the  feelings  with  which  she  received  his 
aunouncement  that  he  had  enlisted,  she  remembered  that 
Tom  had  promised  to  call  that  evening  and  was  already 
overdue.  She  wished  he  would  come — and  then  she 
hoped  he  wouldn't. 

But  she  could  have  spared  herself  if  she  had  known 
what  she  learned  the  next  morning.  At  the  moment  he 
Mas  due  at  the  judge's  Tom  was  riding  Blaze  without  a 
saddle  at  a  terrific  pace  over  the  Corduroy  Eoad  through 
the  swamp.  He  was  going  to  Bryan's  to  telegraph  to 
the  government  at  Washington  that  a  company  of  volun- 
teers were  awaiting  orders  in  the  village  of  Clayton, 
Shawnee  County,  Ohio. 


god's  war.  23 


-     CHAPTER  III. 

HEE    TWO    BEST    FRIENDS. 

The  judge  had  begun  life  as  a  schoolteacher  in  New 
York  State,  qualifying  himself  by  assiduous  application 
to  his  books  at  the  country  school  in  the  winter  when  the 
exigencies  of  farm  work  justified  his  father  in  giving  him 
relief  from  field  tasks.  He  was  naturally  methodical  and 
devoted  every  spare  moment  to  his  studies.  He  was 
"born  old,"  in  the  opinion  of  the  companions  of  his 
youth  who  looked  back  in  after  years  to  realize  that  he 
displayed  in  his  boyhood  the  wisdom  and  foresight  and 
prudence  which  came  to  them  only  after  they  had  spent 
half  the  number  of  years  allotted  to  man  in  buffeting  the 
world.  "With  the  money  he  earned  at  teaching  he  after 
awhile,  being  in  his  minority',  "bought  his  time"  of  his 
iron-featured  old  father  and  going  to  the  nearest  county 
town  entered  upon  the  study  of  the  law,  and  at  last,  upon 
its  practice.  Frugal  and  careful  as  he  was,  it  was  several 
years  before  he  had  amassed  enough  money  in  this  way 
to  warrant  him  in  seeking  a  life-home  in  a  new  country; 
but  at  last  his  dream  was  realized  and  at  Clayton  he 
found  the  elbow-room  professionally  and  otherwise  that 
he  desired  so  much. 

He  struck  his  root  down  deep  and  strong;  invested 
every  dollar  he  could  save  (and  it  was  simply  wonderful 
how  many  the  poor  young  lawyer  could  save)  in  the 
cheap  lands  in  the  neighborhood.  A  few  years  more 
found  him  the  possessor  of  quite  a  large  number  of  acres 
which  were  steadily  and  rapidly  growing  in  value. 
Then  he  saw  that  he  could  afford  to  reach  out  for  honors, 
since  the  material  part  of  his  life  was  tolerably  well  pro- 
vided for,  and  he  entered  politics — confining  his  aspira- 
tions, however^  strictly  to  the  line  of  his  profession.     It 


24  god's  war. 

was  not  till  his  youthful  frugality  and  his  judicious  in- 
vestments begun  to  bear  fruit  in  a  round  money  income 
that  he  relaxed  his  watchfulness  over  his  expenditures, 
and  gave  a  tolerably  loose  rein  to  his  natural  liking  for 
the  good  things  of  this  world  and  the  easy  side  of  this 
life. 

Such  a  man  as  this  is  not  apt  to  be  overindulgent  or 
charitable  with  young  fellows  who  were  "born  young, "and 
who  spend  nianj'  years  in  battling  with  diflSculties  brought 
on  by  their  own  heedlessness  before  they  learn  that  lesson 
of  life  which  is  the  sternest  that  can  be  taught  to  an 
easy  nature.  He  never  stops  to  reflect  that  he  was 
"born  so,"  and  will  not  understand  that  the  majority  of 
mankind  were  sent  into  the  world  but  imperfectly 
equipped  in  comparison  with  himself. 

All  this  is  to  make  it  clear  to  my  patient  reader  why  it 
was,  when  Miles  Bancroft  came,  with  a  delicate  courtesy 
not  usual  in  that  day  or  locality,  to  ask  permission  to  pay 
his  addresses  to  Margaret  with  the  ultimate  object  of  win- 
ning her  for  his  wife,  that  the  judge  refused  to  sanction 
his  suit. 

He  did  not  deny  Miles  the  house;  but  he  insisted  that 
the  young  man  should  do  no  wooing  for  a  time  j'et.  He 
had,  he  explained,  been  much  pleased  with  many  of  the 
traits  he  had  discovered  in  JMiles,  and  was  disposed  to 
think  that  his  career  would  be  a  useful  and  an  honorable 
one.  He  knew  that  he  would  make  a  strong,  good  law- 
yer if  he  continued  to  apply  himself  to  his  profession. 
But  whether  he  would  so  apply  himself  remained  to  be 
seen.  He  might  or  he  might  not.  The  fact  that  during 
the  two  years  of  his  residence  in  Claj'ton  he  had  been 
studious  and  well-behaved  was  to  Miles'  credit,  but  it 
did  not  prove  his  character  so  conclusively  as  the  judge 
would  like.  It  might  be  merely  a  spurt.  He  had  known 
men  to  go  to  the  dogs  after  all,  with  a  mach  longer 
record  of  usefulness  than  that.  He  did  not  predict  that 
Miles  would  do  so.  He  would  not  be  justified  in  such  a 
prediction.  But,  he  put  it,  to  the  chagrined  young  fel- 
low, between  man  and  man,  Avas  he  not  wise  in  asking  a 
further  demonstration  of  the  character  of  the  suitor  for 
Margaret's  hand,  a  demonstration  that  time  alone  could 


god's  war.  35 

give,  before  he  could  consent  to  part  with  the  daughter 
whom  he  loved  so  dearly  ? 

When  a  cool,  wise  old  fatlier  places  an  ardent  young" 
fellow  in  a  situation  like  this  he  does  him  an  injustice. 
The  ardent  young  fellow  knows  in  the  depths  of  his  soul 
that  he  thinks  the  cool,  wise  old  father  is  too  hard  on 
him,  asks  too  much,  and  is  just  as  capable  of  judging  at 
the  moment  as  he  would  be  ten  years  later.  This  is  what 
he  knows  and  what  he  would  like  to  say.  But  he  is 
compelled  to  say  just  the  contrary,  and  he  does  say  it; 
and  if  he  has  sufficient  breath  and  presence  of  mind  left 
him,  he  tries  to  utter  a  few  words  of  adroit  praise  and 
feigned  admiration  for  the  wisdom  of  the  old  gentleman's 
views  in  the  premises.  This  is  what  Miles  did,  and  then 
he  wrung  the  judge's  hand  as  if  he  were  the  dearest 
friend  he  had  on  earth;  and  talked  away  denouncing 
himself  as  a  fool,  a  craven,  a  liar,  and  a  creature  without 
an  atom  of  self-respect. 

And  tbe  farther  he  walked  the  more  enraged  he  be- 
came with  both  parties  to  the  intei'view.  AVhat  right 
had  the  old  man  to  so  coolly  set  out  a  lot  of  insulting- 
doubts  about  him  and  his  character?  The  mere  circum- 
stance that  he  had  gone  to  him  to  ask  permission  to 
make  love  to  his  daughter  gave  no  such  right.  He  was 
conscious  of  as  perfect  integrity  and  uprightness  of  pur- 
pose as  any  man  could  have.  And  Miles  halted  on  the 
corner  debating  whether  it  would  not  be  a  wholesome 
thing  for  the  judge  as  well  as  himself  if  he  should  go 
back  to  tbe  house  and  tell  the  self-righteous  old  fellow 
just  what  he  thought  about  it,  and  th<tt  if  he  icas  poor 
and  had  never  been  on  the  Supreme  Bench  he  was  just  as 
honest  a  man  as  if  he  were  seventy  years  old  and  he 
didn't  propose  to  be  insulted  simply  because  he  had  made 
an  honorable  offer  for  a  girl's  hand — and  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  But  he  showed  prudence  for  once,  in  recalling 
the  fact  that  the  judge  held  a  very  heavy  advantage  over 
him,  and  in  deciding  that  he  had  better,  perhaps,  wait  a 
little  while.     Things  might  change. 

And  then  Miles  swallowed  the  biggest  lump  that  ever 
stuck  in  his  throat — and  grew  cold  and  half-sick  and 
remarked  a  sort  of  a  greenish  tinge  in  the  yellow  of  the 


2G  god's  war. 

sunshine;  and  kept  on  walking  till  he  found  himself  at 
Flipper  time  miles  out  of  town,  in  the  black  mud  and  the 
night  falling. 

It  was  the  recollection  of  this  interview  of  only  a  week 
previous  that  prevented  Miles  from  falling  upon  his 
knees  to  Margaret  at  about  the  same  moment  that  Tom 
hitched  Blaze's  blind-bridle  to  the  post  in  front  of  the 
tavern  at  Bryan's  and  rushed  down  to  the  station  to  tele- 
graph to  Abraham  Lincoln  that  the  Clayton  boys  were 
awaiting  his  summons  to  serve  the  countrj'.  The  young 
woman  did  not  realize,  perhaps,  how  much  feeling  she 
displayed  in  her  voice  and  eyes  as  she  discussed  the  fact 
that  Miles  had  enlisted  and  would  go  off  to  the  wars  very 
soon,  it  might  be  before  daylight — whenever  the  sum- 
mons came.  And  Miles  did  not  hesitate  to  believe  that 
this  feeling  which  Margaret  showed  so  plainly  was  a 
proof  that  she  loved  him.  He  never  for  a  moment 
thought  that  an  intelligent,  tender-hearted,  patriotic 
young  girl  ought  to  be  very  much  distressed  at  the  fact 
that  her  native  country  was  about  to  be  plunged  into  a 
war,  and,  worse  than  all,  an  internecine  strife,  wherein 
brother  would  be  arrayed  against  brother  and  the  father 
might  perchance  seek  to  slay  the  son.  No.  He  didn't 
dream  of  thinking  anything  of  the  sort.  He  only  realized 
that  all  at  once  the  swift  change  in  circumstances  had 
intensified  bis  love,  and  hers  too,  he  was  sure.  And  he 
burned  with  a  fever  that  raged  like  the  seething  of  a 
volcano  to  throw  himself  at  her  feet  with  his  manly 
avowal,  clasp  her  in  his  arms  and  then  let  the  judge  make 
the  best  he  might  of  it.  But  he  remembered  his  inter- 
view and  that  he  had  voluntarily  put  himself  under 
bonds  not  to  speak  without  the  father's  sanction  and  he 
restrained  himself. 

And  when  the  judge  came  in  to  join  in  the  conversa- 
tion, showing  such  grave  concern  and  patriotic  solicitude 
for  the  future  of  the  country,  how  the  young  man  lis- 
tened and  acquiesced!  with  what  an  air  of  respectful 
interest  he  caught  without  understanding,  every  word 
that  fell  from  the  judge's  lips  and  echoed  every  sigh  that 
came  from  the  old  man's  heart!  How  he  toadied  to  him 
and  abased  himself,  cursing  his  own  stupidity  and  lack 
of  manhood  the  while. 


GOD'S   WAR.  27 

A  sleepness  night  does  not  cool  such  a  fevei'  as  raged 
iu  Miles  Bancroft's  veins.  "What  a  volume  it  would  take 
to  record  all  that  passed  thruugb  his  mind  as  the  long, 
tedious  hours  dragged  on!  Huw  many  times  did  he 
review  his  life,  noting  its  failures  and  belittling  its  suc- 
cesses! And,  always,  his  thoughts  came  back  to  the 
events  of  the  short  week  just  passed.  Hiso'erraastering 
love  for  Margaret  Henderson ;  his  painful  interview  with 
the  judge;  last  night's  espisode,  with  its  mingled  honey 
and  wormwood — the  sweetness  of  the  little  proofs  the 
maiden  unconsciously  gave  him  that  she  loved  him  and 
the  bitterness  of  the  struggle  he  had  with  himself  during 
the  entire  evening ;  his  enlistment  and  all  that  it  involved. 
He  might  be  dead  thirty  days  hence. 

Ay!  Then  why  should  he  wish  to  embarrass  this 
j'oung  girl  with  his  love? 

"Come  now,  old  fellow!  If  you  go  away  without  say- 
ing anything  about  your  passion,  and  never  come  back — 
get  killed — why,  she  may  feel  bad  for  a  little  while,  but 
she  will  get  over  it  and  one  of  these  days  the  right  man 
will  come  along,  the  man  who  will  be  worthy  of  her,  as 
you  are  not,  and  the  old  judge,  confound  him!  will  give 
his  consent,  offhand,  and  she  will  marry  and  be  happy! 
And  once  in  awhile  she  will  think  of  you  tenderly  and 
perhaps  even  lovingly  as  you  lie  sleeping  on  the  sunny 
hillside  hundreds  of  miles  away.  For  surely,  if  she  loves 
3'ou  now,  she  will  never  forget  you,  even  if  she  does  love 
another  after  you  are  gone,  and  marries  him.  The  feel- 
ing she  will  have  for  you  will  bo  a  chastened  and  holy 
thing — very  much  better  than  the  love  for  the  living 
which  is  of  the  flesh,  fleshly,  of  the  earth,  earthy!  It  is 
better  so! 

"Besides,  what  good  would  it  do  you  to  tell  her  that 
you  love  her?  And  how  much  harm  may  it  not  do  her? 
Suppose  you  had  told  her  to-night.  You  would  have 
mumbled  and  stammered  and  done  yourself  much  less 
than  justice.  The  sweetness  of  your  happiness  would 
have  been  imbittered  by  the  thought  that  at  any  time, 
iu  an  hour  perhaps,  j-ou  would  have  to  leave  her.  It 
would  do  you  no  good.  And  it  would  give  her  pain  to 
separate  from  you  so  soon  after  your  mutual  love  had 


2S  GOD'S   WAR. 

been  confessed.  Honestly,  now,  would  the  momentary 
satisfaction  to  you  compensate  for  the  pain  she  would 
suffer?  Why  not  go  off  like  a  man,  carrying  your  bur- 
den with  ^•^)U  an  I  bearing  its  weight  alone—  would  not 
that  be  much  better  than  to  thrust  a  part  of  it  upon  her 
weak  shoulders?  How  infernally  selfish  love  makes  a 
man! 

"No.  I  won't  tell  her!  That  is  settled!  She  shall 
never  feel  a  pang  such  as  the  avowal  at  such  a  time  as 
this  might  bring  her! 

"But,  my  God,  how  can  I  help  it!" 

And  so  the  young  fellow  got  up  at  daybreak,  hollow- 
ej'ed  and  nervous,  and  went  out  into  the  streets  which 
were  filled  with  anxious,  excited  men  and  women  and 
children  who  revelled  in  the  awful  fact  of  impending  war 
which  they  could  not  understand.  The  people  gathered 
in  knots  and  groups  and  talked  with  pale  faces  of  the 
gaunt  possibilities  which  had  so  suddenly  sprung  up 
before  them.  The  horror  that  filled  the  air  was  i-edoubled 
by  the  stories  that  fertile-tongued  rumor  sowed  thick 
and  fast.  The  events  that  afterwards  came  were  more 
than  anticipated  by  these  narrations  which  sprung  from 
and  had  no  other  foundation  than  the  nervously  excited 
imaginings  of  a  people  wholly  unused  to  war.  It  was  a 
time  of  terrible  trial  to  everybody  and  it  was  made  worse 
by  the  existence  of  a  class,  few  in  numbers  it  is  true, 
but  bitter  in  venom,  who  arrayed  themselves  against  the 
sentiment  in  fuvor  of  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  and 
predicted  dire  disaster  to  any  attempt  to  put  down  the 
rebellion  by  force  of  arms.  Good  people  who  lived 
through  those  dreadful  days  pray  that  they  may  never 
be  repeated  in  any  nation,  among  any  people. 

Tom  rode  like  Tom-o'-Shauter  to  Bryan's.  A  call  was 
made  for  a  volunteer  to  carry  the  dispatch  and  Tom  was 
I'eady. 

"\Vhat  -will  Bill  say  to  your  using  Blaze  without  ask- 
ing?" queried  Nat. 

"I  don't  care  what  he  says,"  replied  Tom,  as  he 
vaulted  on  the  bare  back  of  his  steed  and  gave  him  a  cut 
w^ith  his  apple-tree  sprout. 

"When  will  you  be  back?"  shouted  Nat,  as  the  horse 
sprang  to  his  work. 


god's  war.  29 

"In  the  morning,"  came  the  reply  from  the  flying  boy. 

The  shades  of  evening  were  already  falling  and  the 
swamp  was  a  darksome  place  on  a  moonless  night,  but 
Tom  and  Blaze  had  traveled  the  road  so  often  that  they 
had  no  fears.  It  was  8  o'clock  when  the  lights  of  Bryan's 
came  in  view,  and  the  train  from  the  east  had  just  got 
in.  The  railway  station  was  thronged  with  an  eager 
crowd  listening  to  the  reports  brought  in  by  the  few 
travelers  who  stopped  off,  the  sidewalks  were  filled  and  a 
baud  of  effervescing  patriots  were  working  off  their  en- 
thusiasm by  tramping  through  the  muddy  streets,  led  by 
a  fife  and  drums  whose  booming  Tom  had  heard,  borne 
to  him  on  the  still  evening  air,  miles  away.  Tom  saw 
that  he  would  not  be  able  to  get  to  the  railway  station 
w'ith  his  horse,  so  he  alighted  and  left  the  animal  in  front 
of  an  adjacent  tavern  and  made  his  way  slowly  through 
the  crowd  to  the  window  of  the  telegraph  office. 

"What  have  you  got  there,  young  feller?" 

"A  dispatch  for  the  President  of  the  United  States," 
said  Tom  stoutly,  with  a  vague  feeling  that  he  was  assert- 
ing the  integrity  of  the  Union  and  affirming  the  suprem- 
acy and  inviolability  of  the  national  government. 

"What  does  it  say?"  demanded  the  voice. 

"It  says  that  a  company  has  been  formed  at  Clayton  to 
fight  the  Secessionists,  and  they're  waiting  for  orders!" 

A  mighty  roar  of  applause  went  up  from  the  crowd  and 
spread  and  repeated  itself  throughout  the  neighborhood, 
and  roared  again,  and  was  answered  by  the  patriots  who 
were  marching  through  the  muddy  streets  and  who  made 
response  without  stopping  to  inquire  why,  but  simply 
shouted  on  general  principles. 

After  spending  an  hour  drifting  about  the  town  and 
gathering  up  the  news  and  rumors,  Tom  remounted  Blaze 
and  started  homeward  with  a  strange  feeling  of  boyish 
elation  which  found  a  vent  in  urging  the  tired  steed  to  a 
much  faster  pace  than  was  necessary,  seeing  that  he  had 
all  night  to  get  home  in. 

When  he  got  there  he  found  Bill  and  Aunt  Sallie  sitting 
up  awaiting  him,  and  was  glad  to  find  that  in  the  unwonted 
feeling  produced  by  his  wonderful  news  Bill  forgot  to 
quarrel  with  him  for  having  taken  the  sorrel  on  a  thirty- 


30  GOD'S   WAR. 

mile  trip  without  asking  permission.  He  was  also  grati- 
fied to  see  that  Bill  made  no  objection  to  his  enlistment, 
while  his  lij)  curled  slightly  at  the  indifference  which  his 
worthy  uncle  showed  and  which  Tom  thought  proceeded 
from  a  feeling  of  relief  at  the  prospect  of  getting  rid  of 
him. 

At  1  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  a 
reply  to  their  dispatch  was  received  by  the  Clayton  Vol- 
unteers. It  came  from  the  governor  of  the  State,  to 
whom  the  Washington  authorities  had  referred  the  dis- 
patch sent  by  Tom.  Clayton  had  ignored  the  doctrine 
of  State's  rights  with  a  vengeance.  The  governor 
directed  through  his  adjutant-general,  that  the  Clayton 
Volunteers  should  embark  on  a  railway  train  at  Bryan's  the 
next  morning  at  4  o'clock  to  be  transported  to  Columbus, 
where  the^'  would  be  mustered  in  and  armed. 

On  receipt  of  this  order  Tom  thought,  for  the  first  time 
in  twentj'-four  hours,  of  Margaret,  and  forthwith  started 
to  the  judge's  house  to  eay  good-by.  On  the  way,  how- 
ever, the  suggestion  occurred  to  him  that  as  he  was  going 
to  the  war  and  might  get  killed  he  would  buy  a  keep- 
sake or  so  for  Aunt  Sallie  and  her  chubby  children,  who 
all  loved  him  and  might  like  to  have  something  to  re- 
member him  by.  This  little  shopping  occupied  him  at 
the  jeweler's  and  bookstore  for  tw^enty  minutes  or  half  an 
hour. 

Miles  Bancroft  had  no  one  to  buy  keepsakes  for,  and 
consequently  did  not  lose  any  time.  Ho  also  started  at 
once  for  the  judge's  house.  All  of  his  good  resolutions 
were  swept  away  by  the  announcement  that  the  company 
would  march  to  Bryan's  that  night.  With  a  conscious 
feeling  of  guilt  he  hated  himself  most  heartily  as,  seeing 
the  judge  leave  his  gate  to  go  down  the  street  to  learn 
the  cause  of  the  renewed  exciteinent,  he  realized  that  his 
heart  grew  lighter  and  his  spirits  rose. 

"I  am  a  coward,"  he  said  to  himself,  "to  rejoice  that 
the  old  man  is  out  of  the  way." 

Nevertheless  he  kept  on  his  course,  feeling  at  exery 
step  that  he  was  plunging  deep  into  a  yawning  abyss  of 
dishonor  that  had  suddenly  opened  before  him.  He  rang 
the  bell  and  was  immediately-   admitted    to  the   parlor 


god's  war.  31 

where  Margaret  sat  with  a  p:)';  r  face  aurl  a  more  troubled 
expression  than  she  had  ever  worn  before.  She  rose 
hastily. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Bancroft,  is  there  any  more  bad  news?" 

"On  the  contrary,  Miss  Henderson,  there  is  good 
news." 

"Thank  Heavei^ !    There  is  to  be  no  war " 

"Oh,  yes,  there  is  to  be  war — that  can't  be  disposed  of 
so  quickly." 

"Then  what  is  the  good  news?  Oh,  I  know,  the  gov- 
ernment doesn't  need  any  more  soldiers  and  the  Clayton 
Volunteers  will  not  be  called  out — "  with  eager  anxiety. 

"Would  that  be  good  news?" 

There  was  an  abruptnees  amounting  almost  to  gruff- 
ness  in  the  young  man's  speech,  something  unusual  in 
him ;  and  it  accompanied  a  manner  with  which  it  was  in 
harmony,  a  behavior  that  w-as  almost  rude  and  quite 
foreign  to  the  air  of  repose  which  ordinarily  was  a 
marked  characteristic  of  the  man. 

"The  best  news — except  that  there  would  be  no  war." 

"Why  don't  you  want  the  Clayton  Volunteers  to  go?" 

"Why — of  course — why,  one  does  not  want  one's 
friends  to  go  to  war — to  be  shot  at— wounded  perhaps — 
pei-haps  killed — "  and  the  girl's  face  grew  paler  and  her 
eyes  dilated  at  the  picture  she  drew. 

"I  didu't  imagine  that  there  was  any  one  in  the  Clay- 
ton company  in  whom  you  took  such  an  interest." 

"How  can  you  say  suvjh  a  thing!  I  know  nearly  all  of 
them — they  are  my  old  neighbors — I  have  known  them 
all  my  life.  I  should  feel  dreadful  to  think  that  they 
were  going  to  meet  such  dangers — besides  you  are  a 
member  of  the  company — and  so  is  poor  little  Tom,  I 
hear " 

"Poor  little  Tom  who?" 

"Why,  Tom  Bailey." 

"Oh,  yes.  I  believe  he  did  join.  But  he's  a  boy  and 
will  back  out  just  as  likely  as  not." 

"Not  he.  He  has  the  spirit  of  a  lion.  But  I  hope 
none  of  you  will  go." 

"This  boy  seems  to  be  a  great  favorite  of  yours." 

"He  is.  He  is  brave  and  gentle  and  generous  and 
strong.     But  you  have  not  told  me  your  news," 


32  GOD  S   WAR. 

"I  came  to  tell  you  the  news.  Miss  Henderson.  "We 
march  at  8  o'clock  to-night  for  Bryan's,  where  we 
will  take  the  cars  for  Columbus." 

"Going — so  soon!" 

yhe  sank  into  a  chair  as  if  suddenly  grown  faint. 

"And  I  have  other  news  for  you." 

"No  more — bad — news — I  hope?" 

"That  remains  to  be  seen,  I  have  come  to  tell  you 
before  we  start " 

Ah!  the  color  is  coming  back  now. 

"I  have  come  to  tell  you  that  I  love  you " 

She  sits  silent  and  with  her  eyes  on  his  face.  It  is 
impossible  to  say  what  effect  the  blunt  declaration  has 
upon  her.     It  is  as  if  she  had  heard  nothing. 

"I  must  tell  you  before  I  go — I  would  die  if  I  didn't." 

"Mr.  Bancroft!" 

"Oh,  my  darling!  I  have  loved  you  more  than  my 
God!  You  are  the  noblest  woman  I  ever  knew.  I  asked 
your  father's  permission  to  tell  you  this,  a  week  ago,  but 
he  would  not  give  it." 

"And  has  he  since  given  it?" 

"Alas,  no!" 

"And  yet  you  come  to  me  and  tell  me — without  his 
knowledge " 

"He  would  not  consent.  He  is  too  hard  on  me — he  is 
unreasonable " 

"My  father  is  never  unreasonabla.  He  is  the  wisest 
and  best  man  in  the  world!" 

"I  mean — have  pity  on  me " 

Tom  has  completed  his  purchases  and  has  entered  the 
house,  where  he  is  at  home  as  if  of  the  family,  without 
ringing.  Casting  his  hat  on  the  table  in  the  hall  he 
steps  upon  the  tl'reshold.  He  sees  the  woman  he  loves, 
Margaret  Henderson,  her  figure  drawn  up  to  its  full 
height,  her  head  thrown  back,  her  eyes  dilated,  with  her 
hand  upon  a  chair  in  front  of  her,  confronting  Miles 
Bancroft,  who  leans  upon  the  mantelpiece,  his  hair  dis- 
hevelled and  the  veins  standing  out  upon  his  forehead 
like  whipcords,  his  face  discolored  and  distorted  while 
]iis  eyes  gleam  and  glow  like  living  coals;  and  he  hears 
Miles  say  that  his  love  for  Margaret  will  drive  him  mad. 
Aud  with  a  swift  transformation  the  boy  becomes  at  once 
a  man. 


god's  war.  83 

He  cannot  stand  by  to  listen  to  more — that  would  be 
dishonorable,  even  if  he  cared  to.  He  cannot  go  for  he 
is  not  sure  whether  Margaret  is  alarmed  or  pleased — the 
roan  is  like  a  maniac  and  his  aspect  is  enough  to  frighten 
any  woman.  He  advances  into  the  room  with  a  slight 
noise  at  which  they  both  turn  to  him.  Involuntarily 
Margaret  gains  his  side  and  lays  her  hand  upon  his  arm, 
with  a  smothered  exclamation — "Oh,  Tom!" 

Tom  keeps  his  eyes  fastened  upon  Miles  whom  he  has 
never  seen  look  like  this  before. 

"You  have  been  listening!"  Miles  is  livid  and  he 
gasps  rather  than  utters  the  insult. 

The  boy's  eyes  flash  an  instant  and  his  head  is  lifted 
quickly  Avith  an  almost  imperceptible  movement  of  scorn- 
ful indignation.  But  he  controls  himself  and  turn  gently 
and  proudb'  to  Margaret : 

"I  have  come  to  say  good-by,  Miss  Henderson.  The 
company  will  march  to-night." 

Where  did  this  backwoods  boy  get  this  high  bearing? 
No  wonder  Miles  is  amazed  and  cooled  in  a  breath. 

"Oh,  Tom,  I'm  so  sorrj'.  You're  so  young.  And  you 
are  both  going.  My  two  best  friends.  What  shall  I  do? 
I  can  only  pray  for  you — both " 

What  a  deadly  calm  has  come  over  Miles!  She  leads 
Tom  to  him. 

"You  are  my  two  best  friends.  You  must  be  the  best 
of  friends  to  each  other.  You  will  promise  me  that,  will 
you  not?  Then  I  will  feel,  somehow,  that  both  of  you 
are  safer  than  you  would  be  otherwise.  Take  each  other's 
hands  and  promise  me,  will  you  not?" 

How  can  Tom  take  the  hand  of  this  patronizing  whelp 
who  has  insulted  him?  How  can  he  refuse  when  Mar- 
garet asks  him? 

"My  dear  boy,  forgive  me,"  cries  Miles.  "I  know 
you  are  incapable  of  such  a  thing!" 

Their  eyes  and  hands  meet  and  they  are  sworn  friends 
— and  yet  they  both  love  this  woman,  and  neither  dreams 
of  giving  her  up! 

An  angry  tumult  as  of  men  beside  themselves  and 
furious  as  wild  beasts  comes  up  the  street.  There  are 
cries  and  imprecations  borne  on  the  top  of  this  wave  of 
BuUen  roaring  that  has  the  horror  of  homicide  in  it! 


34  god'.s  war. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Susie's  victory. 

Nat  Kellogg 's  shop  stood  on  the  corner  of  a  lot  which 
was  at  the  junction  of  an  alley  with  Main  Cross  Street,  and 
it  was  just  half  a  square  from  the  courthouse,  as  we  have 
seen.  The  shop  i^^^self  was  not  an  extensive  affair,  per- 
haps fifteen  or  twenty  feet  square — big  enough  to  run  a 
wagon  iiito  when  repairs  were  needed — and  the  forge 
tilled  the  corner  where  the  double  doors  opened  on  the 
street.  A  back  door  showed  the  house  ten  feet  off,  which 
was  Nat's  home.  This  latter  structure  was  modest,  but 
neat.  It  was  a  stoi-y  and  a  half  high  and  was  constructed 
of  rough  bricks  with  three  rooms  on  the  ground  floor  and 
two  cozy  little  sleeping  apartments  above.  It  was  a  fair 
specimen  of  most  of  the  Clayton  homes.  It  was  rude, 
perhaps,  and  contracted,  and  the  floors  were  covered  with 
a  homely  rag  carpet,  save  in  the  parlor,  where,  under  the 
highly  varnished  haircloth  sofa  and  chairs,  an  ingrain 
with  large  and  grotesque  figures  in  deep  crimson  and 
green  was  spread. 

There  were  no  chromos  in  Clayton  in  those  days,  but 
on  the  walls  of  Nat's  house  were  colored  lithographs  or 
engravings  of  slim-waisted  young  women,  in  pale  pink 
dresses  cut  low  in  the  neck  and  short  in  the  sleeves — such 
as  you  will  find  on  a  smaller  scale  in  the  "Keepsake," 
that  queer-looking  book  which  your  grandmother  sets 
such  store  by.  In  addition,  Nat's  parlor  was  adorned 
with  a  picture  of  Abe  Lincoln  which  was  his  reward  from 
Horace  Greeley  for  having  gotten  up  a  club  of  sub- 
scribers for  the  Tribune  during  the  campaign  of  '60.  On 
the  marble-topped  center  table  which  was,  like  the  chairs 
and  sofa,  sticky  and  shiny  with  varnish,  were,  first,  a 
woolen   mat    of    bright   colors    which   Nat's    wife   had 


'  GOD'S  WAR.  35 

wrought  the  year  before  they  -were  married,  whereon  was 
set  with  great  unsteadiness  a  lamp  for  burning  coal  oil, 
that  wonderful  new  illuminant;  a  large,  new  black  family 
Bible  with  a  big  brass  clasp  and  a  family  record  which 
showed  that  Nathaniel  Kellogg  and  Susan  Croly  were 
married  by  a  duly  licensed  preacher  of  the  Baptist  per- 
suasion in  January,  1859,  and  that  Susan  had  borne  unto 
Nathaniel,  children,  viz.  :  Eichard,  born  in  the  month  of 
November  1859,  and  Rosalind  who  made  her  advent  into 
this  troublous  world  in  the  month  of  February,  1861, 
(Strangely  enough  it  was  practical  Nat  who  had  insisted 
that  the  daughter  si  ion  Id  be  called  Rosalind.  During 
the  winter  of  '60 — '61  he  had  spent  the  evenings  in  read- 
ing a  large  print  copy  of  Shakespeare  which  Tom  had 
loaned  him,  for  he  was  a  great  reader  and  he  was  capti- 
vated with  the  merry  maiden  of  Arden.)  Beside  these 
adornments  there  were  on  the  table  an  album  wherein 
Susan  Cioly's  rustic  admirers  h;ul  inscribed  much  amor- 
ous verse,  with  many  laboriously  wrought  pen-flourishes 
and  pictures  of  various  kinds  and  degrees  of  excellence  as  to 
execution ;  prominent  among  them  being  wreaths,  of  which 
there  were  four;  and  birds,  full-breasted  and  bearing  in 
their  bills  a  scroll  with  such  tender  inscriptions  as  "Forget- 
me-not"  and  the  like.  Of  these  birds  there  were  six,  and 
the  best  one  was  done  by  the  writing-master  from  Cleve- 
land who  once  spent  a  winter  in  Clayton,  and  who  was 
doubtless  responsible  for  most  of  the  heavy  down-strokes 
and  light  up-strokes  and  gracefullj'  curling  tails  with 
which  each  verse  of  poetic  aspiration  was  finished,  as 
well  as  the  wonderful  curlicues  which  adorned  the  "g's" 
and  "y'8"and  finished  off  the  bottom  of  the  page.  And 
it  was  noticeable  that  the  writing-master's  bird  was 
doubtless  the  mother  of  all  the  other  birds,  to  markedly 
strong  was  the  family  resemblance  among  them.  A  book 
of  Baptist  hymns  might  sometimes  have  been  found  on 
this  table,  altlioiigh  it  was  clearly  not  considered  as  one 
of  the  permanent  ornaments,  and  was  as  frequently  found 
on  Susan 'h  bureau  in  her  bedroom  upstairs  or  on  tb-^ 
mantelpiece  in  the  dining  and  sitting  room  alongsid  ' 
the  tteth  Thomas  clock,  w^hose  clacking  tick  was  on';.- 
exceeded  for  loudness  in  the  still  hours  of  the  night  by 
the  sonorous  clangor  of  ita  bell  upon  which  the  hours 


86  god's  war. 

were  rung.  A  sbeet-ivon  stove  with  a  big  door  and  no 
attempt  whatever  at  decoration  save  a  niedallion  in  front 
giving  a  view  of  a  female  scantily  attired  in  a  floating 
scarf  and  a  curly-Leaded  boy  Jiot  utlired  at  lill,  completed 
the  furniture  of  this  apartineiit  which  was  never  opened 
except  on  Sundays  and  stale  occasions — such  as  Mother 
Croly's  visits  with  her  knitting,  a  call  froin  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Jabez  Waterman,  tlie  pastor  of  the  ciiurch,  or  an  occa- 
sional tea  given  to  Susan's  old  girl-friends  who  had  not  as 
yet  gone  into  matrimony  for  themselves — and  which 
when  closed  was  kept  very  dark  by  means  of  thick, 
glossy,  green  pnper  window  shades. 

In  the  front  yard  stood  two  dismal  evergreen  trees, 
which  Nat,  with  a  patience  worthy  of  a  better  cause, 
assiduously  strove  to  teach  to  grow  into  the  cheerful  shape 
of  funeral  urns,  ^Yhile  a  heart-shaped  trellis  between  the 
window  and  the  door  bore,  in  its  season,  that  dear  old 
vine  whereon  morning-glories  blow.  A  bod  of  pinks  and 
sweet-williams  and  hollyhocks  found  a  place  in  the  sum- 
mer between  the  evergreen  urns,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  fact  that  it  was  neither  an  aesthetic  time  nor  place  a 
sunflower  or  two  usually  stood  in  the  corner.  Back  of 
the  house  was  the  kitchen  garden,  hencoop,  cowhouse 
and  pigpe)i,  for  the  householder  in  Clayton  who  did  not 
raise  his  own  pork  on  his  own  ]jreinises  was  poor  indeed, 
and  it  was  no  more  possible  to  keei>  house  without  a  cow 
than  without  a  house  in  that  sensible  and  comfortable 
slow-going  backwoods  village. 

Things  iiave  changed  in  Clayton  since  then  and  I  war- 
rant you  that  young  Dick  Kellogg  cracks  many  a  joke 
with  his  brand-new  young  wife  at  the  expense  of  her 
mother's  cow  and  too  convenient  pump;  while  Mrs. 
Rosalind  sighs  over  her  delicate  baby  and  Grandmother 
Susan  says,  "No  wonder,  when  the  njilk  is  so  thin,  and 
thank  Heaven  /c^r  children  didn't  have  to  depend  upon  a 
cow,  and  she  don't  know  what  things  are  coining  to  in 
this  world,  anyhow!"  She  thinks  "things"  were  better 
in  the  old  days;  and  sometimes  Nat  agrees  with  her,  for 
all  their  big,  tine  house  and  the  machine  shop  with  ever 
so  many  hands  into  which  the  old  horseshoeing  estab- 
lishment hm  expanded. 


god's  war.  37 

Dick  hasn't  got  half  the  arm  on  him  that  Nat  had  at 
his  age  and  Rosy  can't  even  take  care  of  her  baby,  let 
alone  do  all  the  housework  besides,  as  Susan  did.  Still, 
Dick  has  married  a  yood  girl  with  a  3ie;it  mi-.n  ni'  money 
and  has  the  making  of  a  fine  lawyer  in  him  if  he  would 
only  let  politics  alone  and  didn't  have  such  a  fondness 
for  trottiug-horses;  and  Rosy 's  husband  is  a  partner  in 
the  woolen-mill  that  has  spoiled  the  water  at  the  old 
"swimming-hole"  that  Nat  remembers  so  well. 

But  we  are  getting  ahead  of  our  story,  which  deals  with 
the  good  old  times  for  which  Susan  sighs  so  unreasonably. 

Susan  Kellogg,  at  the  time  our  story  opens,  was  as 
plump  and  round  a  little  brown-eyed  body  as  ever  made 
a  husband  happy.  "While  Nat  was  ringing  the  sparks 
out  at  his  anvil  Susan's  song  kept  time  to  the  strokes  of 
the  hammer  as  she  went  about  her  household  labors.  Nat 
never  understood  how  much  he  had  grown  to  lean  on  her 
till  he  had  got  away  off  South,  hundreds  of  miles  from 
her.  And  then  he  used  to  think  when,  as  he  walked  his 
lonely  rounds  on  picket  duty  of  a  dark  night,  the  picture 
would  come  up  before  his  eyes  of  the  trim  little  figure  in 
the  neat  brown  calico  dress  and  white  linen  collar  at  the 
neck,  and  narrow,  spotless  cuffs  just  peeping  below  the 
sleeves,  standing  in  the  door  to  call  him  to  the  dinner  or 
supper  prepared  by  herself.  I  say  Nat  used  to  think  at 
such  times  as  this  picture  would  come  to  him,  that  he 
never  had  loved  her,  never  could  love  her,  as  she  deserved 
to  be  loved.  And  then  he  would  laugh  with  a  laugh  that 
was  half-pathetic  as  he  confessed  to  himself  that  strong 
and  self-reliant  as  he  was  he  would  be  the  weakest  and 
most  worthless  man  in  the  world  without  Susie.  He  first 
recognized  the  dawn  of  this  feeling  when,  at  about  8 
o'clock  of  the  evening  that  he  had  led  the  way  in  the 
enlistment  of  the  Clayton  Volunteers,  in  responding  to  a 
touch  upon  his  arm,  he  looked  down  and  saw  her  by  his 
side. 

He  had  been  thoughtful  enough  to  see  that  a  war  was 
imminent  and  had  always  known  that  when  it  came  he 
would  (!ili;jt,  allliough  lie  had  never  formiilated  the  de- 
termination and  had  speculated  but  little  on  the  effect 
that  his  doing  so  would  have  upon  his  domestic  affairs, 


38  god's  war. 

And  when  Jim  brought  him  the  news  that  the  war  had  at 
last  liGgun  and  the  President  had  crdled  for  volunteers  he 
had  dropped  his  hammer  to  lesiiond  without  a  thought  of 
Susie  au'l  the  ba'-ies.  lu  the  o\cit<'nie!it  that  followed 
during  the  next  few  hours  he  had  continued  to  forget 
them;  ai;<l  he  forgot  his  sup]>or  hcHides;  as  did  nearly 
every  man  in  Clayton  that  evening.  The  presence  of  his 
wife  now  brought  it  all  upon  him  like  a  huge  wave  that 
threatened  to  smother  both  him  and  her. 

"Why,  little  woman,  God  bless  you,  you  startled  me! 
Is  the  baby  sick — is  Dick's  croup  worse?" 

"Ain't  you  coming  home  to  supper?" 

"Why  of  course  I  am.  Is  it  time?  I'm  as  hungry  as 
a  wolf,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it." 

"Come  along  then.  Supper'.s  been  ready  these  three 
hours.     The  baby  ain't  sick,  and  Dick's  croup  is  better." 

"Who's  with  them?" 

"Aunt  Nan's  there.  She  brought  down  some  hoarhound 
and  made  Dick  some  tea." 

And  right  there,  somehow,  the  conversation  ceased, 
and  they  walked  homeward  through  the  dark  street  in 
silence.  Nat's  heart  was  suddenly  filled  with  a  great,  in- 
expressible tenderness  which  seemed  to  crowd  everything 
else  out,  so  that  the  events  which  had  for  the  last  few 
hours  so  completely  absorbed  him  seemed  as  if  they  were 
something  he  dimly  remembered  to  have  read  about; 
their  very  echoes  were  distant  and  faint — and  his  impulse 
was  to  pick  np  the  little  wife  in  his  brawny  arms  as  he 
could  so  easily  have  done,  and  kiss  her,  and  let  her  lay 
her  head  upon  his  breast  and  weep  all  those  tears  away 
which  he  knew  were  lying  back  of  her  soft,  brown  eyes. 

But  the  people  of  Clayton  in  those  days  were  wont  to 
be  strangely  repressive  as  to  their  emotions,  and  were 
like  Indians,  in  that  they  seemed  to  think  shame  of  that 
indulgence  which  would  displa3''  such  weakness.  So  Nat 
refused  to  obey  the  impulse  and  Susan  could  not  have 
suspected  it,  if  she  had  not  known  how  dearly  Nat  loved 
her,and  if  she  had  not  felt  his  arm  holding  her  hand  pressed 
more  tightly  than  usual  to  his  breast.  And  so  they 
walked  homeward. 

And  Susie  looked  out  upon  an  unknown  sea  and  sud- 


god's  war.  39 

denly  found  herself  helpless;  and  its  great  waves  leaped 
all  the  more  ftariuiiy  that  she  could  see  such  a  short  dis- 
tance because  of  the  fog  ■which  obscured  her  future.  Out 
of  that  foj^  caiiie  sickeuiug  iiuagiuiuLiri  wli'c'a  appalled 
her — and  might  well  have  done  so  even  if  she  had  been 
more  stout-hearted  than  she  was.  Nat  had  never  said  to 
her  that  he  would  go  to  the  war  if  a  war  should  come, 
and  she  had  never  seriously  thought  that  such  a  thing  as 
a  war  was  possible.  Why  should  it  be?  At  the  same 
time  she  knew  now  that  she  had  always  expected  that  he 
would  go,  if  his  country  called.  He  had  read  his  Tribune 
faithfully  and  aloud  to  her  every  week,  and  as  the  bitter- 
ness and  desperation  of  the  factions  ^rrev;  iierce  his  com- 
ments showed  how  deeply  he  felt. 

She  could  see  very  well,  now,  that  the  strength  of  liis 
feeling  of  aversion  for  the  institution  of  human  slavery 
and  of  sympathy  for  the  negro  bondsman  v.'ould  make 
him  quick  and  prompt  to  seize  upon  an  opportunity  to 
wipe  out  the  one  and  so  do  God's  slow  justice  to  the  other. 

But  it  had  been  so  far  off  and  apparently  so  imi)0ssible 
that  she  had  never  given  it  a  thought,  serious  or  other- 
wise. Only  that  morning  they  had  discussed  at  break- 
fast, their  projects  for  the  spring.  She  had  her  sewiug 
plans  all  arranged  and  had  laughed  at  Nat's  remark  that 
it  was  nonsense  to  keep  a  boy  in  petticoats  when  he  got 
old  enough  to  walk  so  well  as  Dick  could.  Dick  in 
trowsers!  And  Nat  liad  said  that  he  would  plow  up  the 
garden  next  week,  and  if  it  kept  fair  only  one  day  longer 
he  would  spade  up  her  flower  beds  so  that  she  could  sow 
the  seed  fur  her  morning-glories  and  her  pinks  and  sweet- 
williams  and  hollyhocks,  and  said  ho  had  spoken  to  Bill 
Jones  for  a  couple  of  shoats  to  put  in  the  pen  to  fatten 
for  next  winter's  bacon.  And  he  had  promised  her  that 
if  Avork  was  good  so  that  he  could  pay  off  the  last  install- 
ment of  the  mortgage  on  the  house  to  "Old  Eamsey"  by 
fall  he  would  buy  her  the  nicest*tea-set  of  gold-baud  china 
that  could  be  had  in  all  Clayton,  fully  as  good  as  her 
mother's;  and  maybe  he  would  throw  in  a  new  bombazine 
dress  for  her  for  Sundays;  and  didn't  she  think  Dick 
would  be  big  enough  to  need  a  pair  of  red-topped  boots 
to  play  around  in  the  snow  in  next  winter?  And  she  was 


40  god's  war. 

to  go  "clown  to  niotlier's"  with  the  children  to  spend  a 
week  during  sugar-makinp:,  and  Nat  was  to  come  to  spend 
Sunday  —  and  —  and  —  now  all  was  over!  There  was 
nothing  that  she  could  see  but  a  black  wall  of  waves, 
angry  and  ready  to  drown  her  and  her  dear  ones,  and 
nothing  that  she  could  feel  but  a  great  pain  at  her  heart 
as  if  a  cruel  hand  was  gripping  it  so  that  it  almost  ceased 
to  beat. 

But  she  mustn't  let  Nat  know  it!  He  was  a  man  and 
had  a  man's  righteous  work  to  do,  and  she  would  cut  her 
right  hand  off  before  she  would  allow  an  exhibition  of 
her  forebodings  to  l)e  jnade  to  weaken  his  heart  or  arm. 

The  children  were  asleep  when  they  got  home,  lying 
side  by  side  in  the  big  cradle  Nat  had  made  for  them — 
"might  almost  just  as  well  a-had  twins  at  once  and  been 
done  with  it,  Susie,"  he  had  said  when  he  brought  it  in 
from  the  shop;  the  table  was  spread  and  the  bacon  and 
potatoes  were  in  the  oven  keeping  hot. 

Aunt  Nan,  the  old  octoroon,  who  had  been  brought 
from  Virginia  hy  Nat's  father,  and  who  was  the  village 
nurse  and  doctress,  was  sitting  there  looking  grave  and 
wise  and  thoughtful.  Susie  wished  she  would  go  home, 
when  she  saw  her  face  and  remembered  the  lugubrious 
talk  she  had  had  with  the  old  woman  that  evening  while  she 
was  waiting  for  Nat;  and  then  her  conscience  smote  her, 
for  Aunt  Nan  was  always  ready  to  come  to  help  her  take 
care  of  the  children  when  they  got  sick ;  and  so  the  little 
woman's  conscience  compelled  her  to  exert  herself  more 
than  usual  to  entertain  her  visitor. 

But  what  she  feared  came;  the  news  had  to  be  dis- 
cussed, although  Susie  could  see  that  Nat  did  not  like  to 
talk  much ;  in  all  its  details.  Aunt  Nan  insisted  upon 
hearing  it.  The  trembling  wife  found  it  a  terrible  strain 
with  Nat  looking  at  her  with  more  love  than  his  eyes  had 
ever  shown  before.  But  she  did  very  well ;  and  had  to 
reproach  herself  only  once,  and  that  was  when  Nat  an- 
swered Aunt  Nan  that  the  company  might  get  orders  to 
march  before  morning.  Then,  spite  of  all  she  could  do, 
she  spilled  the  cream  she  was  i)ouring  into  Nat's  cup. 

"Ah,  me!'  sighed  Aunt  Nan.  "This  war  and  fighting 
is  an  awful  thing.     People  here  in  Clayton  don't  know 


GOD'S   WAR.  41 

anything  about  it.  To  hear  'em  talk  you'd  suppose  it  was 
a  kind  of  a  frolic.  And  so  it  is  s 'long's  there's  nothing 
but  beating  of  drums  and  plaj'ing  of  bands  and  a-marching 
around  with  fine  clothes  on.  That's  all  very  pretty,  but 
that  ain't  war.  I  lived  down  to  Urbana  when  the  Mexi- 
can war  was  fought,  and  Colonel  James  he  got  up  a  com- 
pany there.  Everybody  was  crazy  about  war  when  they 
was  parading  around.  But  it  was  different  when  the  news 
came  that  John  Grain  was  killed  at  BunerVister,  and  that 
George  Grant  had  his  whole  head  shot  right  off  at  some 
other  place  with  an  outlandish  name  that  it  seems  to  me 
never  did  mean  anything." 

"Oh,  well.  Aunt  Nan,"  said  Nat,  "they  didn't  all  get 
killed.  Some  of  them  did,  of  course;  that's  the  chance 
of  war  that  every  man's  got  to  take — but  the  most  of  them 
come  home  again." 

"Not  the  most  of  them.  Colonel  James  took  fifty  men 
from  Urbana  and  only  twenty  of  them  got  back.  They 
wasn't  all  killed  I  know.  John  Greenlaw  he  stayed  down 
there  in  Mexico  and  they  say  he  married  one  of  them  Mexi- 
can women — though  how  he  could  have  the  stomach  to  do 
that  I  can't  see — for  thej-'re  heathens — at  least  they're 
nearly  as  bad — they're  Catholics  and  worship  images.  I 
don't  suppose  such  a  woman  as  that  could  have  really 
right  children." 

"Why,  you  don't  suppose  they'd  have  three  legs,  do 
you,  Aunt  Nan?"  cried  Nat,  anxious  to  get  her  off  her 
doleful  topic  and  willing  to  spend  a  little  cheap  wit  in 
the  cause. 

"'Tain't  that.  But  nevermind.  'Tain't  the  Mexican 
v.ar  we're  talking  about.  John  Crain,  he  had  two  little 
children  just  about  the  age  of  Dick  and  Ivosy  there,  when 
jjt3  went  to  the  war.  And  Mis'  Crain  she  had  to  take  iu 
sewing  for  a  living  till  she  got  that  broke  down  that  she 
had  to  give  it  up,  and  the  last  I  heard  of  her  she  was  in 
the  poorhouse — the  children  was  'liound  out,'  I 
believe." 

This  time  it  was  Nat  who  winced  and  was  anxious  that 
his  weakness  should  not  be  witnessed. 

"We  must  hope  for  the  best.  Aunt  Nan.  That's  the 
way  to  do.     It  don't  pay  to  look  on   the   dark  side   of 


42  god's  war. 

tliiugs.  This  won't  be  much  of  a  war.  I  see  by  the 
papers  that  some  of  the  big  men  iu  AVashington  don't 
think  it'll  last  more'n  three  months,  and  they  ought  to 
know." 

"Nobody  knows  how  long  the  war  will  last,  honey. 
They  thought  the  Mexican  war  wouldn't  last  long.  They 
was  a-going  down  there  and  was  going  to  whip  them 
'Greasers',  as  they  called  them,  in  less'n  no  time,  they 
said.  But  it  took  a  long  time  ;  and  man3'  a  poor  fellow  died 
there,  away  from  his  Jiome  and  his  familj- ;  and  his  children 
wanting  bread  to  this  day,  maybe." 

"Not  so  bad  as  that,  I  hope,"  said  Nat  with  a  tremor, 
in  spite  of  himself.  "Not  so  bad  as  that.  The  good  Lord 
will  take  cave  of  them  that  lights  His  battles.  And  if  it 
isn't  tighting  His  battles  to  free  the  poor  nigger  slaves  I 
don't  know  Avhut  is." 

"Ihatmaj'  be,"  replied  Aunt  Nan,  who  felt  her  own 
strong  religious  nature  respond  to  Nat's  adroit  stroke, 
and  at  the  same  tin)e  had  to  wrestle  a  little  with  the  in- 
cidents of  life  which  don't  always  fit  in  with  the  theories 
of  good  people.  "But  I've  heard  'em  say  that  Bonyparte 
he  said  that  the  Lord  was  on  the  side  of  the  most  soldiers. " 

"Ah,  but  Bonyparte  isn't  good  authority.  He  was  a 
bloody,  butchering  fellow  who  only  made  war  so  that  he 
could  get  to  be  a  big  man.  Look  at  the  Bible,  Aunt  Nan, 
and  see  how  the  Lord  used  to  fight  on  the  side  of  the 
Jews — His  chosen  people." 

"Ho  ain't  been  doing  much  fighting  for  them  lately." 

"But  they  are  no  longer  His  chosen  people.  And  be- 
sides Bonyparte — why  he  was  just  as  big  a  Catholic  as 
anybody!" 

But  it  was  of  no  use.  Aunt  Nan  was  keyed  in  a  minor 
and  she  only  made  matters  worse  the  more  she  talked. 
Nat  and  Susie  strove  hard  against  her,  each  for  the  sake 
of  the  other,  and  both  felt  relieved  when  the  good-hearted 
old  woman,  who  meant  no  harm,  took  her  leave. 

And  then  Susie  did  feel  that  she  would  like  to  talk  all 
her  doubts  and  fears  awa3'  with  Nat.  It  would  be  a  re- 
lief to  her  if  she  could  open  her  heart  to  him.  But  she 
would  not,  for  his  sake.  And  she  was  glad  that  the 
"cboreb"  occupied  him  till   bedtime,  and  that  there  was 


GOD'S   WAR.  43 

no  moment  when  they  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  look 
blankly  at  each  other. 

But  when  they  bad  got  to  bed  and  the  awful  thought 
came  to  her  that  maybe  this  was  the  last  time  that  ever 
Nat's  arms  would  hold  her  to  his  side,  she  could  not  help 
it  any  longer.  She  crept  up  to  him  and  laid  her  head  on 
his  breast  as  he  had  wished  her  to  do,  and  sobbed  a  long, 
long  time.  Not  a  word  was  spoken,  but  Nat  clasped  her 
with  a  tenderness  that  showed  that  he  shared  her  grief 
and  sympathized  with  all  her  feelings,  and  was  only 
restrained  from  joining  his  tears  with  hers  by  the 
thought  that  he  was  a  man  and  must  show  himself  the 
sti'onger  of  the  two.  At  last  the  grief  grew  duller  and 
with  contrition  she  whispered : 

"Oh,  Nat,  I  didn't  mean  to." 

"God  bless  you,  my  wife!"  he  replied  as  he  kissed  her 
fervently  and  solemnly. 

And  then  she  slept;  while  he  waited  the  coming  of  the 
day  with  eyes  that  would  not  close. 


^A.  GOD'S   WAR. 


CHAPTER  YI. 


LAWYER    JORDAN  S    MISTAKE, 


It  was  as  if  a  wbirhviud  had  gathered  up  all  the  men 
iu  Clayton  and  by  its  strong  centripetal  force  had  made  of 
them  a  cohesive  mass  iu  which  each  atom  was  instinct 
with  life  but  in  which  a  common  motion  controlled  and 
forced  them  to  do  its  will  as  if  it  was  sentient  and 
furiously  powerful.  For  the  mass  whirled  about  like  a 
bunch  of  leaves  in  a  Avhirlwiiul ;  and  outside  the  compact 
formation  men  danced  and  darted  to  and  fro  like  de- 
tached leaves  feeling  but  faintly  the  force  of  the  centrip- 
etal suction.  And  as  it  whirled  it  moved  steadily  if 
slowly  southward  toward  the  market-house.  And  the 
roar  of  the  hundreds  of  angry  men  was  awful.  It  was 
as  if  the  higher  nature  had  left  them  and  they  were  soul- 
less— beasts  and  brutes  who  had  no  reason  and  could  be 
)noved  by  nothing  higher  nor  lower  than  the  blind  rage 
which  possessed  them.  There  was  snarling  and  snapping 
and  teeth  were  gnashing;  till  a  sane  being  with  his  eyes 
shut  could  have  readily  i)ersuaded  himself  that  he  was  in 
the  midst  of  wolves  ravenous  with  hunger  and  suddenly 
come  upon  a  prospect  of  food.  The  undertone  was  a  dumb, 
inarticulate  noise  made  with  the  closed  mouth  and  in 
each  individual  sounding  like  the  suppressed  groan  of 
pain  coming  from  a  desperate  man,  struggling  and 
fighting  for  his  life  and  suffering  mental  as  well  as  phA-- 
sical  anguish.  This  undertone  possessed  all  the  attributes 
of  volume  and  horror,  and  above  it  forked  and  darted  the 
snarling  and  snapping  and  the  sound  of  the  gnashing  of 
teeth  as  tho  blue  llames  play  and  spurt  over  the  low 
moaning  of  molten  metal  in  a  furnace.  The  corruscatiug 
of  thisawfuUightning  was  momentarily  rent  and  torn  by 


GOD'S   WAR.  45 

a  thunflerouR  roar  from  red  aiul  an^ry  throats,  wbon  teeth 
and  lips  relaxed  or  rather  wave  urenclied  apart  by  tlie 
maddened  strength  of  an  anj^er  that  ^vonld  Jiot  longer  be 
restrained.  Men's  vital  forces  Ts-ere  put  to  sucli  terrific 
stress  that  they  saw  things  bathed  in  a  horrible  color, 
blood-red,  and  there  was  a  ringing  in  their  ears  inore 
terrible  than  the  sudden  clang  of  a  firebell  in  the  .solemn 
hush  of  deep  night.  It  was  a  mob  of  maniacs  bent  on 
murder. 

It  was  a  mob  of  men  who  had  been  accustomed  during 
all  of  their  lives  to  hold  their  passions  as  well  as  their 
weaknesses  under  the  strictest  control.  Such  men  when 
overmastered  by  passion  are  compared  with  men  used  to 
yielding  to  every  impulse,  as  giants  to  pygmies.  The 
greater  force  required  to  break  down  the  barriers  sweeps 
everything  before  it  like  a  devastation. 

CoAvards  stood  behind  windows  shivering  and  quaking 
and  looking  with  inhuman  dastard  eyes  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  crime  which  they  did  not  dare  to  raise  a  finger 
to  prevent,  as  the  mob  swept  whirling  by.  Women 
looked  an  instant  on  a  horror  surpassing  anything  of 
which  thej'  had  ever  dreamed,  and,  moaning,  covered 
their  eyes  and  fled  to  remote  hiding-places.  Children 
ran  shrieking  and  gazed  from  a  distance.  "With  their 
tails  between  their  legs  dogs  loped  yelping  away  from  a 
ferocity  as  much  more  bloodthirsty  and  vindictive  than 
the  ferocity  of  the  animal  as  the  superior  intelligence  of 
man  could  suffice  to  make  it. 

Miles  and  Tom,  without  releasing  their  clasped  hands, 
looked  from  the  window  as  the  sullen  roar  with  the  horror 
of  murder  in  it  came  to  their  ears,  and  a  moan  of  terror 
burst  from  Margaret's  lips.  In  a  moment  the  three  un- 
derstood everything  and  the  two  men  scarcely  needed  the 
word  "Go!"  from  the  maiden  to  cause  them  to  dart  from 
the  house  toward  the  mob.  For  a  moment  they  hung 
upon  the  outskirts,  debating  without  a  spoken  word  upon 
the  best  step  to  take.  They  had  comprehended  at  a 
glance  the  significance  of  the  scene,  and  knew  Avhy  the 
mob  drifttd  toward  the  market-house.  There  were  stout 
cross-beams  there  over  which  the  rope  already  around 
Lawyer  Jordan's  neck  could  be  easily  thrown! 


4C  GOD'S  WAR. 

For  it  was  Lawyer  .Tordau  in  the  midst,  the  very  centei* 
of  this  whirlpool  of  men — inul  his  liat.ds  were  bound  in 
front  of  him,  his  hat  waa  gone  and  ho  was  bleeding  from 
a  wound  in  his  fortbfiad.  The  white-faced  men  about 
him  were  beyond  reason;  that  Avas  clear,  as  to  all  of  them 
save  possibly  Nat  Kelloy;<j:,  who,  though  he  walked  by  the 
condemned  man's  side  and  actually  held  the  rope  with 
which  Lawyer  Jordan  was  to  be  huns,  was  apparently 
at  himself.  Bancroft  thought  he  could  see  that  much  in 
the  glance  he  got  from  Nat's  eye  and  at  once  decided  that 
the  one  chance  for  Jordan's  life  lay  in  the  brawny  black- 
smith's hands.  With  Nat's  co-operation  everything  might 
be  done;  without  it,  nothing.  Miles  threw  his  shoulder 
against  a  crevice  in  the  crowd  and  ])ressing  inward  left 
the  rest  to  centripetal  force;  and  without  a  word  between 
them  Tom  followed  his  example. 

The  fact  of  the  business  was  that  Lawyer  Jordan  had 
been  talking  treason — treason  to  the  government,  treason 
to  the  cause  of  humanity  and,  what  was  perhaps  the  worst 
of  all,  treason  to  the  Clayton  Volunteers. 

You  need  not  be  told,  my  dear  sir,  of  the  bitterness 
between  the  people  of  the  North  who  were  loyal  to  the 
Union  and  those  who  sj'mpathized  with  the  Secessionists. 
It  was  in  your  day,  and  you  remember  it  perfectlj'. 
Indeed  it  has  scarcely  died  away  yet,  and,  liberal,  pro- 
gressive, sensible  man  that  you  are  and  pride  yourself  on 
being,  you  smile  when  you  see  Deacon  Gray  and  Deacon 
Brown  come  face  to  face  in  the  prayer-meeting  and  ad- 
dress fervent  petitions  to  Almighty  God  from  the  same 
church  floor  and  respond  devoutly  in  perfect  harmony, 
and  yet  at  the  close  pass  each  other  with  hard,  firm-set 
faces  and  eyes  filled  with  cold  hati*ed  for  each  other;  you 
smile  still  more  when,  as  Deacon  Brown's  stalwart  young 
son  and  Deacon  Gray's  blooming,  winsome  young 
daughter  go  off  from  that  same  prayer-meeting  arm  in 
arm,  you  observe  the  two  stubborn  old  fathers  pull  their 
hats  angrily  down  over  their  eyes  and,  each  taking  his 
own  side  of  the  street  march  off  stolidly  homeward.  You 
laugh,  when  you  ought  not  to  think  of  laughing,  because 
the  grace  of  the  God  which  the  two  old  men  honestly 
strive  to  serve,  has  not  softened  and  sweetened  the  heax'ts 


GOD'S   WAR.  47 

which  grew  so  hard  and  bitter  toward  each  other  thirty 
odd  3'ears  ago  when  oue  was  au  "abolitionist"  and  the 
other  was  a  "copperhead."  And  you  chuckle  mischiev- 
ously as  you  think  of  the  "pretty  kettle  of  fish"  there 
will  be  if  the  two  young  folks  don't  make  an  end  of  this 
falling  in  love  with  each  other;  for  you  know  that  Gray 
would  rather  see  his  daughter  marry  the  devil  than  that 
she  should  become  the  spouse  of  "old  Brown's"  son,  and 
Brown  would  prefer  that  his  boy  should  take  a  negresa 
to  wife  if  he  had  no  other  choice  beside  than  "old  Gray's" 
daughter. 

But  your  grandson  doesn't  know  these  things  so  vividly 
as  you  do,  impatient  old  man  ;  and  I  have  him  very  much 
more  in  my  eye  than  you  as  I  write;  he  will  appreciate 
my  book  much  better  than  j-ou  do,  I  hope. 

There  were  some  localities  where  there  was  scarcely  a 
difference  of  opinion  as  to  the  merits  of  the  question  be- 
tween the  North  and  the  South,  and  where  the  few  who 
dissented  from  the  views  of  the  majority  maintained  a 
discreet  silence,  and  peace  reigned.  There  were  other 
localities  where  sentiment  was  pretty  evenly  divided,  and 
there  war  reigned ;  not  always  with  bloodshed  and  yet 
very  frequently;  but  invariably  v.'ith  a  bitterness  that  still 
rankles  though  decades  have  passed  and  the  actual  com- 
batants have  fraternized  like  brothers  in  arms. 

The  northwestern  part  of  Ohio  where  the  scene  of  our 
story  is  laid  so  far,  was  oue  of  the  localities  where  the 
Southern  sympathizers  were  a  very  large  minority  of  the 
population;  and  the  congressional  district  in  which 
Clayton  was  situated  had  for  many  years  sent  men  to  con- 
gress who  were  very  strongly  inclined  to  sympathize  with 
the  South,  and  did  so  take  sides  in  all  the  great  struggles 
in  the  field  of  politics  which  brought  on,  at  last,  the  war 
of  the  rebellion.  Lawyer  Jordan  was  with  the  majority 
in  his  district  if  not  in  the  village  itself.  As  has  been 
hinted  he  had  aspirations  which  nothing  less  than  a 
national  field  would  satisfy.  He  had  been  a  long  and  a 
loud  advocate  of  the  rights  of  the  South  and  bitter  in  his 
denunciation  of  those  who  belonged  to  the  other  party. 

He  was  conspicuous  in  the  ranks  of  those  who  inveighed 
against  the  policy  of  a  resistance  by  force  of  arms  to  the 


48  GOD'S   WAR. 

dismeiuberment  of  the  Union!  and  had  frequently'  eaid 
that  if  a  war  came  it  would  not  be  confined  in  its  dovas- 
tutions  to  the  South,  but  would  be  general  and  foujzbt 
out  in  every  State  in  the  Union.  Men  from  the  North  as 
well  as  those  of  the  South  would  take  up  arms  against  the 
national  authority,  he  maintained,  and  would  fight  and 
die  to  secure  to  the  seceding  States  the  right  to  set  up  a 
separate  government.  And  if  he  had  never  said  in  so 
}nany  words  that  he  would  himself  take  up  arms  in  behalf 
of  the  South,  he  had  said  a  great  deal  that  would  warrant 
the  inference  that  he  meant  to  do  so. 

When,  the  evening  before,  at  the  courthouse,  Nat  had 
asked  him  to  advise  the  people  how  to  go  about  the  work 
of  enlisting  and  forming  a  company,  both  tbe  blacksmith 
and  the  lawyer  were  deceived  as  to  the  true  state  of  affairs. 
Nat  knew  of  course  that  Lawyer  Jordan  had  been  classed 
with  the  Southern  sympathizers  and  among  the  most  active 
of  them,  but  he  had  paid  little  heed  to  the  circumstance. 
And  when  the  blow  was  finally  struck,  when  Sumter 
was  fired  on  and  the  President  had  called  for  volunteers. 
Nat  at  once  jumped  to  the  conclusion,  without  doing 
any  thinking  to  speak  of  on  the  subject,that  of  course  all 
division  of  opinion  was  at  an  end — that  forthwith  all 
would  unite  in  support  of  the  government — that  no  man 
would  at  this  last  extremity  desert  his  section,  no  matter 
how  much  he  had  vapored  and  talked  up  to  that  time. 
He  supposed  that  of  course  Lawyer  Jordan  was  with  him 
and  the  rest  of  his  loyal  neighbors,  now  that  the  war  had 
actually  come.  So  that  he. made  his  request  for  advice 
in  all  simplicity  and  good  faith;  and  even  when  Lawyer 
Jordan  gave  his  reply  Nat  attributed  it  rather  to  a  desire 
on  the  lawyer's  part  to  have  a  chance  to  air  his  oratorical 
powers  than  to  anything  else,  and  was  far  from  suspect- 
ing for  a  moment  the  real  truth. 

For,  vain  as  Lawyer  Jordan  unquestionabb'  was  of  his 
abilities  as  a  speaker,  he  did  not  care  so  much  for  a 
chance  to  show  them  as  he  did  for  something  else,  viz.  : 
to  know  precisely  which  way  the  cat  was  going  to  jump — 
for  he  intended  to  aoconjpany  that  interesting  animal 
provided  he  was  spared  to  the  exercise  of  his  faculties,  if 
he  was  personally  cognizant  of  his  own  state  of  mind. 


GOD'S   WAR.  49 

If  you  had  asked  him  that  morning,  or  even  so  late  in  the 
day  as  the  moment  at  which  Nat  was  so  cruelly  sharpen- 
ing the  corks  on  Blaze's  shoe  with  the  mutilation  of  a 
"Dutchman"  in  view,  if  you  had  asked  him  then  whicli 
way  the  majoritj'  of  the  people  in  the  Clayton  district 
would  go  in  event  of  a  war  he  would  have  unhesitatingly 
told  you  that  they  would  go  with  the  South;  and,  if  you 
had  given  him  time  he  would  have  demonstrated  to  you 
just  why  they  would  espouse  the  cause  of  secession. 
For  hfi  was  a  man  of  parts;  among  which  his  parts  of 
speech  were  very  prominent.  Then  why  did  he  shuffle 
and  waste  his  opportunity  ?  Why  did  he  not  at  once  take 
the  stand  and  denounce  the  Union  movement  and  make 
head  for  the  South  now  that  she  needed  friends,  as  man- 
fully as  he  had  done  before  the  hour  of  her  peril  had  come? 
Because  he  was  puzzled  and  hard  put  to  it  to  decide 
whether  he  should  believe  the  evidence  of  his  own  eyes  or 
cling  to  the  theory  which  he  had  so  often  and  so  satisfac- 
torily demonstrated,  in  spite  of  the  warnings  of  his  out- 
lying senses. 

For,  as  he  came  to  the  courthouse  in  response  to  the 
long-continued  ringing  of  the  bell,  he  observed  that  many 
of  those  who  were  also  hurrying  tliere  were  those  who 
had  followed  his  lead  for  years  in  politics.  And  when  he 
got  within  the  building  he  found  that  the  announcement 
of  tlie  cause  of  the  bell-ringing  had  started  a  conflagration 
which  spread  like  a  tire  in  a  dry  stubble.  It  consumed 
not  only  the  seasoned  stalks  of  abolitionism  whose  condi- 
tion invited  combustion,  but  to  his  surprise,  and  perhaps 
dismay,  he  found  the  green  shoots  of  his  own  sowing  and 
nurturing,  flaming  up  with  rapid  and  increasing  heat. 
How  far  would  this  go?  If  the  sudden  breaking  out  of 
hostilities  had  actually  united  those  who  yesterday  were 
widely  apart,  and  if  this  consolidation  was  going  to  be 
a  permanent  thing,  it  behooved  him  to  know  it;  for  it 
behooved  hini  to  get  on  the  stronger  side  at  all  times. 
It  looked  as  if  everybody  was  in  favor  of  the  hated  policy 
of  coercion  so  far  as  this  sudden  light  illuminated  things. 

Still,  he  wasn't  certain  about  it;  and  Lawyer  Jordan 
was  ordinarily  a  careful  man.  Certainly  at  this  juncture 
he  couldn't  afford  to  make  a  mistake.     So  he  decided  to 


50  god's  war. 

wait  and  see  what  a  night's  reflection  would  bring  forth. 
Perhaps  in  that  time  his  okl  follo^vers  uould  recall  some 
of  the  doctrine  he  had  so  faitljfully  preached  to  them  and 
\vould  see  that  they  uere  going  all  wrong,  aud  would 
return  to  their  allegiance.  He  would  make  a  pretty  mess 
of  it  if  he,  too,  yielded  to  this  sudden  excitement  only 
to  find  a  few  days  hence  that  he  had  swung  away  from 
the  majority  in  the  district  and  had  thereby  destro^-ed 
his  future ! 

So  that  his  answer  to  Nat  Avas  intended  as  a  skillful 
movement  in  favor  of  delay.  It  was  not  very  much,  it  is 
true,  but  it  was  as  much  as  he  dared  to  essaj'  at  the 
moment.  We  have  seen,  however,  that  it  ha;l  no  effect, 
aJid  tliat  in  spite  of  it  Nat  went  ahead  aud  organized  his 
company — if  what  Avas  done  can  be  so  termed. 

Law.A-er  Jordan  was  not  the  soundest  sleeper  in  Clayton 
that  night — a  night  when  scarcely  an  adult  in  the  whole 
village  h;id  undisturbed  repose.  During  the  early  even- 
ing he  sent  for  his  party  friends,  the  leaders  in  the  county, 
and  held  an  anxious  conference  with  them.  In  union  of 
desire  there  is  strength ;  and  as  these  gentlemen  came 
together  desiring  to  find  a  state  of  facts  which  would 
warrant  them  in  believing  that  their  party — the  party  of 
sympathizers  with  secession — Avould  recover  itself,  and 
after  reflection  again  present  a  united  front  upon  the  old 
alignment— as  they  so  much  desired  this  they  found 
abundant  data  upon  which  to  build  something  with  much 
more  solidity  than  a  mere  hope  would  have.  Of  course 
they  made  a  mistake,  because  they  argued  only  from  that 
which  had  prevailed  for  so  many  years,  when  men  fol- 
lowed, without  consideration,  the  lead  of  their  chiefs  and 
investigated  the  claims  of  their  party  no  further  than  to 
satisfy  themselves  that  it  was  the  organization  to  which 
their  fathers  had  belonged;  and  they  failed  to  take  into 
account  the  tremendous  effect  that  the  smoke  from  Gen- 
eral Beauregard's  gun  had  had  upon  the  atmosphere  by 
which  men's  political  views  were  influenced.  Of  course 
they  made  a  mistake  in  assuming  that  since  they  had  in 
themselves  nothing  of  genuine  love  for  the  Union  or  re- 
gard for  the  cause  of  humanity  us  represented  by  the 


GOD'S   WAR.  51 

proposition  to  free  the  slave,  therefore  their  followers  had 
not.  They  counted  that  the  effect  upon  themselves  -would 
eventually  be  the  same  upon  their  followers.  And  they 
pledged  themselves  to  the  faith  that  was  in  them, 
solemnly,  hopefully,  orally  and  bibulously  and  went  otf 
to  bed  calculating  with  confidence  upon  the  result  with 
their  followers  of  the  sober  second  thought;  and  without 
any  sort  of  comprehension  of  the  value  and  weight  of  the 
new  factors  that  had  entered  into  the  combination. 

But  the  men  who  manifested  no  surprise  in  perceiving 
that  whereas  the  night  before  they  went  to  bed  Seces- 
sionists, now,  the  night  after,  they  were  going  to  bed 
Union  men  if  not  actually  Abolitionists,  found  themselves, 
when  day  broke,  still  calm  and  without  thought  of  a 
return  to  the  old  belief;  and  set  about  with  swift  method 
getting  their  affairs  in  order,  as  became  wise  men  enter- 
ing upon  an  unknown  path. 

And  the  fatuity  of  Lawj'er  Jordan  and  his  friends  and 
coadjutors  continued.  The.y  spent  the  forenoon  in  dis- 
cussing the  details  of  a  demonstration  to  make  headway 
against  the  influences  that  had  set  in  so  strongly  against 
what  they  conceived  were  their  true  interests.  It  was  at 
last  decided  that  they  should  divide  and  mingle  among 
the  people  and  that  to  Lawyer  Jordan  should  be  left  the 
decision  as  to  the  time  when  and  the  place  where,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  should  reassert  themselves 
and  regain  the  ground  that  had  been  lost.  Lawyer 
Jordan  was  not  only  the  leader  by  virtue  of  his  superior 
intelligence,  but  because,  also,  he  had  more  at  stake  polit- 
ically than  any  of  the  rest  of  them. 

It  all  came  about  through  another  mistake  on  Lawyer 
Jordan's  part.  He  unwisely  seized  the  opportunity  when 
the  American  flag  was  being  hoisted  into  place  upon  a 
pole  newly  set  up  by  the  enthusiastic  volunteers  to  de- 
liver himself  of  sentiments  which  were  derogatory  to  the 
government  of  which  the  flag  was  the  symbol,  denouncing 
it  as  a  tyranny  which  would  soon  be  rebuked  by  the  brave 
men  of  the  South,  etc.,  etc.  He  really  said  very  little  if 
any  more  thnn  he  had  said  a  thousand  tiiues  before.  But 
it  was  received  with  an  ill  grace  by  men  who  belonged 
the  day  before  to  two  widely  separated  parties,  but  who 


52  GOD'S   WAR. 

had  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  become  allies  of  the 
staucijest  and  truest  description.  Still,  nothing  was 
said  to  disturb  the  lawyer,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  think 
that  the  inarticulate  murmurs  which  he  heard  were 
really  evidences  of  the  good  etfeet  he  had  produced,  and 
that  his  hearers  were  supiilementing  his  own  arguments 
with  others  drawn  from  their  reawakened  political  con- 
sciences. He  grew  bolder  and  proceeded  with  such 
vehemence  and  oratorical  excellence  that  the  crowd 
finalb'  became  quiet,  if  not,  as  he  thought,  sympathetic 
listeners. 

Lawyer  Jordan  flattered  himself  that  he  could  gauge 
the  feelings  of  a  jury  as  accurately'  as  any  man,  and  this 
time  he  congratulated  himself  upon  an  unexpectedly  easy 
victory.  His  coadjutors,  who  had  gathered  warily  upon 
the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  grew  bolder  with  him  and 
encouraged  him  with  nods  and  smiles  of  approbation. 
And  just  here  the  crisis  was  reached. 

With  the  advocate's  shrewd  calculation  of  dramatic 
effect,  and  completely  deceived  by  the  aspect  of  his 
hearers,  Lawyer  Jordan  suddenly  seized  the  flag  which 
he  had  denounced  so  bitterly,  and  casting  it  upon  the 
ground  proceeded  to  trample  it  under  his  foot. 

The  instant  after  he  had  done  it  Nat  Kellogg'siron  fist 
smote  him  on  the  forehead  with  a  force  that  would  have 
been  suflBcient  to  kill  him  had  not  tlie  blow  been  a 
glancing  one. 

The  movement  of  Nat's  arm  was  not  quicker  than  the 
flash  that  sprang  into  the  eyes  of  the  volunteers.  With 
a  drawing  in  of  the  breath  that  was  more  a  moan  than  a 
roar,  they  rushed  in,  and  in  an  instant  the  lawyer  was 
bound  and  in  another  moment  the  rope  with  which  the 
flag  was  to  have  been  hoisted  was  over  his  head  with  the 
slipknot  of  a  running-noose  under  his  left  ear;  and  in 
the  babel  of  curses  and  imprecations  that  filled  all  the 
space  the  eager  cry  "To  the  market-house!  Hang  him !" 
gave  the  command  that  the  maddened  men  without  debate 
started  to  execute.  White  and  trembling  the  poor  lawyer 
looked  about  for  his  friends.  They  were  not.  They  had 
incontinently  vanished.  The  prayer  for  mercy  that 
formed  itself  on  his  lips  was  silenced  by  an  imprecation 


GOD'S   WAR.  53 

that  was  so  horrible  it  seemed  to  freeze  his  blood.  A 
minute  had  not  elapsed  and  Lawyer  Jordan  was  on  his 
way  to  his  death — in  the  hands  of  executioners  momen- 
tarily growing  more  furious. 

His  lips  were  livid  and  the  sweat  stood  on  his  brow  in 
great  drops,  mingling  with  the  blood  that  Nat's  knuckles 
had  drawn.  He  looked  piteously  about  for  a  friendly 
glance.  But  every  eye  was  stern  and  implacable.  Those 
who  were  his  followers  yesterday  seemed  the  most  de- 
termined to  have  his  life.  In  a  second  of  time  he  had 
been  tried,  convicted  and  sentenced  by  a  court  which 
was  hurrying  to  execute  its  own  sentence  with  such 
rapidity  that  hope  had  no  time  to  spring  up.  It  was  as 
if  the  judgment  of  God  had  fallen  upon  him — only  worse 
— for  Heaven  holds  out  a  hope  in  repentance  to  the  last. 

"Mj'  God!"  he  moaned,  "will  they  kill  me?" 

"If  the  devil  don't  stand  up  for  his  own  mighty  quick 
they  will,"  replied  Nat,  speaking  plainly  from  custom 
and  not  from  a  desire  to  be  needlessly  cruel.  He  meant 
what  he  said — Avas  not  the  wretch  a  lawyer  as  well  as  a 
traitor  and  therefore  doubly  bound  to  Satan?  And  from 
where  else  should  help  come  to  such  a  man? 

Nat  regretted  that  he  had  struck  him.  He  had  not 
supposed  that  his  blow  would  have  such  an  effect.  His 
passion  was  gone  before  his  fist  had  reached  its  mark'. 
Now,  he  only  thought  how  to  save  his  neighbors  from 
committing  a  ci'ime  which  would  forever  dishonor  them. 

His  senses  were  all  alert,  but  he  saw  no  hope  till  he 
caught  Miles  Bancroft's  eye.  And  even  then  he  had  no 
idea  how  it  was  to  be  done. 

Neither  had  Miles  at  the  moment.  But  he  was  there, 
first,  because  Margaret  had  sent  him,  and  next  because 
he  realized  how  grave  the  results  would  be  if  the  mob 
was  not  stayed  in  time.  The  sucking  swirling  of  the 
crowd  soon  drew  him  to  the  center  with  Tom  close  be- 
hind. Nat  greeted  him  with  a  look  which  said,  "I 
understand,  and  will  help!" 

In  another  moment  they  were  in  the  market-house. 

"Put  him  up  on  a  block!" 

"Yes — put  him  up,  curse  him,  where  we  can  all  see 
him!" 


54  god's  war. 

"WJicu  Lawyer  Jordan  was  raised  iip  on  the  butcher's 
block  life  was  neailj'  extinct — from  fright.  With  one 
hand  Nat  threw  the  rope  over  a  beam  and  with  the 
other  strove  to  hold  up  the  collapsed  lawyer. 

"Look  at  the  coward;  I  can't  hold  him  up!" 

"I'll  help,"  said  Miles  in  reply  to  a  glance  from  Nat. 

This  was  the  opportunity  if  they  were  to  have  anj-.  A 
great  bearded  Goliath  of  a  fellow  had  snatched  the  rope. 

"Now  then — off  he  goes!"  and  he  gave  a  tremendous 
pull. 

The  rope  flew  up  over  the  beam!  The  noose  had  been 
cut  with  a  sharp  knife! 

"Who  did  that?" 

"I  did!" 

Miles  was  never  before  in  such  danger;  he  could  not 
be  in  greater,  and  he  knew  it.  But  he  was  as  calm  as 
the  day ;  and  his  senses  worked  as  the  most  perfect  ma- 
chinery ought  to  do.  A  new  knot  was  tying,  but  time 
is  everything. 

"Men,"  said  Miles  (as  the  crowd  regarded  him  their 
astonishment  rapidly  changing  to  rage)  "this  man  is 
no  dearer  to  me  than  he  is  to  that  man  of  you  all  who 
liates  him  the  most.  But  this  is  not  right.  I  don't  care 
for  him — I  do  care  for  you.  I  am  one  of  you  and  expect 
to  share  your  fortunes  and  be  your  comrade  and  com- 
panion.    I'm  a  little  particular  as  to  whom  I  sleep  with, " 

He  hazarded  this  rough  pleasantry,  and  it  was  not 
without  its  effect.  It  was  an  odd  and  unexpected  thing 
under  the  circumstances.     It  relieved  the  tension  a  little. 

"I  don't  want  to  sleep  with  any  man  who  was  one  of 
a  hundred  who  murdered  an  unarmed  man." 

"Neither  do  I,"  said  Nat.    "And  what's  more  I  won't!" 

"Why,  you  hit  him,"  said  a  voice. 

"I  know  I  did,  and  I'm  sorry  for  it.  If  I  had  supposed 
all  you  fellows  were  going  to  jump  on  him  when  I  had 
him  down,  why,  I  wouldn't  a-hit  him." 

"All ready  again,"  shouted  Goliath.  "Let  me  up  there 
and  I'll  make  sure  of  him." 

"There  ain't  room  for  any  more,"  said  Tom,  nimbly 
jumping  up  by  Miles'  side. 

"Then  you  get  down," 


GOD'S   WAR.  55 

"I  won't  do  it.  You  fellows  ought  to  be  ashamed  of 
yourselves.  AVhat  kind  of  soldiers  will  you  make — a 
hundred  of  you  on  one  man " 

"Yes,  and  such  a  specimen  of  a  poor,  sneaking  bloat 
as  he  is,"  said  Kat  skillfully,  eying  Lawyer  Jordan  with 
humorous  contempt.  The  crowd  laughed.  "Look  at 
him!  Why,  my  Dick  could  lick  him!"  Another  laugh 
and  the  men  began  to  grow  calmer. 

"It  is  for  your  own  sakes,"  pleaded  Miles. 

"You're  another  Secessionist,  yourself,"  cried  a  voice 
in  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd. 

"Who  says  that?"  demanded  Miles,  jumping  down  as 
the  crowd  made  room  for  him.  "Come  here  and  saj'  it 
to  my  face.  My  grandfather  stood  in  Charleston  once 
with  a  rope  around  his  neck,  like  this  poor  cur  here. 
They  were  going  to  hang  him  because  he  was  an  Aboli- 
tionist. I  have  it  in  my  blood — and  if  the  man  who  saj'S 
I'm  a  Secessionist  will  come  here  I'll  whip  him  within  an 
inch  of  his  life!" 

Another  diversion  which  had  its  effect. 

The  men  composing  this  mob  were  not  quickly  swayed 
by  light  considerations;  they  were  not  of  the  sort  to  be 
influenced  by  trifles.  But  they  had  been  heretofore  law- 
abiding  and  had  been  taught  to  hold  the  public  peace  as 
of  the  highest  importance ;  and  they  had  a  strong  sense  of 
fair  play  and  the  sanctity  of  personal  rights.  It  was 
not  a  light  consideration  that  brought  them  back  to  their 
senses.  The  tricks  that  were  played  b}'  Nat  and  Miles 
and  Tom  w-ere  not  intended  to  deceive.  On  the  contrary 
they  w^ere  meant  only  to  give  the  time  in  which  the  mad- 
dened rioters  might  recover  themselves.  Even  so  light 
a  thing  as  a  child's  hand  upon  the  rein  will  guide  the 
well-trained  steed,  though  he  flee  with  the  wind.  The 
power  of  habit  will  assert  itself  and  is  stronger  than  pas- 
sion— and  it  was  the  habit  of  these  men  to  regard  blood- 
shed with  an  infinite  aversion. 

It  was  also  a  habit  with  them  to  avoid  anything  savor- 
ing of  unnecessary  or  superogatory  acknowledgment 
of  error.  They  did  not  care  to  go  further  than  to  abandon 
the  error.  That  was  enough.  So  they  begun  to  turn 
away  from  Lawyer   Jordan  with  an  air  of  indifference, 


56  GOD'S   WAR. 

and  an  expression  of  countenance  innocent  of  any  sort  of 
•violent  intention. 

"This  hanging's  j:)OHtpoued  till  we  git  something  that's 
got  sand  enough  in  it  to  stand  up  to  be  hung!"  said  Nat 
as  he  let  the  lawj-er  drop  in  a  limp  heap  on  the  block. 

"That's  so!  That's  so!"  and  the  crowd  laughed  good- 
humoredly. 

"We've  got  to  march  at  8  o'clock  to-night, "  continued 
Nat,  "and  we've  got  no  captain.     We  must  elect  one." 

"You  be  our  captain,  Nat." 

"No — I'm  not  the  man.  You  want  a  better  man  than 
me." 

"We  haven't  got  a  better  one. " 

"Yes,  we  have,  and  here  he  is.  I  nominate  Miles 
Bancroft  for  captain  of  the  Clayton  Volunteers.  He  may 
put  perfumery  on  his  handkerchief,  but  he's  got  a  wheel- 
barrow load  of  sand  into  him!" 

"Second  the  motion,"  cried  half  a  dozen  voices. 

"You  that's  in  favor  of  Miles  Bancroft  say  ay !  Op- 
posed, no!     Carried  unanimously!" 

"Why,  men,  I — "  began  Miles. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Nat.  "Now,  boys,  three 
cheers  for  Captain  Bancroft,  and  if  we  don't  make  him  a 
colonel  I'll  eat  him!  Now  then,  all  ready — one — two — ■ 
three!" 

And  the  cheers  wei'e  given  with  such  will  that  all 
Clayton  heard  them ;  and  Margaret  Henderson  hearing 
them  knew  that  her  two  knights  had  won  their  first  fight. 


GOD'S  WAR.  ^H 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"bonyparte  a-crossin'  the  alps." 

"Now  then,  boys, "  said  the  tall,  old  white-haired,  rosy 
cheeked  fifer  to  his   companious  composing  the  hastily 
improvised  band  of  the  Clayton  Volunteers;  "now  then, 
to  begin    with,  we'll   give  'em    " IJovyparte  a-crossin'  the 
Alps.'     That'll  fetch  'em  here  quicker  'n  anj'thiug  else!" 

And  the  inspiring  old  tune  was  played  with  a  will  that 
made  up  for  the  lack  of  artistic  excellence,  if  there  was 
any  such  lack,  in  the  execution.  I  am  inclined  to  believe, 
however,  that  there  was  nothing  lacking.  Perhaps 
Piccolo  in  the  orchestra  at  the  opera  might  have  played 
it  with  more  smoothness  and  the  addition  of  fancy  trills 
and  quavers  and  flourishes,  and  he  might  have  shaken  a 
jeweled  finger  over  the  vents  in  his  instrument  with  great 
effect  upon  the  eye.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that  he  would 
not  have  done  better,  perhaps,  looking  at  the  performance 
from  the  point  of  view  of  the  mere  musical  director. 
Perhaps  he  would.  But  I  do  mean  to  say  that  for  the 
purposes  of  the  occasion  no  maccaroni-eating,  garlic- 
scented  high-salaried  son  of  Italy  could  have  begun  to  do 
the  work  as  old  Fielding  did  it. 

The  spirit  was  there;  and  the  thrill  of  the  song  as  it 
rose  and  fell  did  not  come  from  the  old  man's  breath, 
which  was  only  wind,  but  from  his  soul  which  was  im- 
mortal and  soaring  with  the  inspiration  of  a  cause  which 
the  hard-headed  old  Abolitionist  believed  was  the  grandest 
God  ever  gave  for  man  to  fight  and  die  in.  The  old  man 
thought  he  knew  what  he  was  doing — knew  what  he  was 
saying  to  the  world  with  that  little  black  fife  of  his.  He 
knew  that  he  summoned,  not  mere  men  to  a  bloody, 
ruffianly  riot,  but  grand,  strong,  shining  souls  to  go  forth 
despising  all  ease,  despising  all  danger,  with  contempt 


58  god's  war. 

for  all  pain  and  suffering  and  sacrifice  and  death,  to  do 
God's  Avork  by  God's  appointment  and  bearing  God's 
commission  in  their  hands. 

He  almost  imagintd  that  tie  poor  slave,  hundreds  of 
miles  awaj-,  fainting  beneath  the  lash  in  the  humid  air  of 
his  prison-pen,  might  hear  the  strain  and  that  it  might 
be  to  him  as  a  draught  of  pure  air  from  the  mountain  top, 
to  invigorate  and  encourage  him  to  strike  a  blow  for  him- 
self and  his  race.  And  as  his  imagination  took  him  this 
flight  the  strain  soared  with  a  buoyant  curve  of  joyous 
elation  that  made  men's  blood  tingle  in  their  veins. 

But  when  he  dreamed  that  he  was  sending  a  shrill 
warning  to  the  oppressor  and  the  tyrant  he  put  such  a 
stress  of  stern  meaning,  such  a  threat  of  awful  vengeance 
— God's  long-delayed  but  terrible  reprisal — into  the 
song,  that  men  liearing  it  grew  suddenly  grave  and  awed 
with  shudderings. 

And  as  his  mental  vision  swept  forward  over  the  scenes 
of  carnage  that  must  be  before  the  wrong  could  be  made 
right  and  before  the  keen  sword  of  the  Almighty  should 
cease  its  flashings  among  wicked  men;  when  he  heard 
with  prophetic  ear  the  wail  of  strong  men  distorted  in 
agony  on  bloody  fields  and  saw  with  sharpened  sight  the 
strewn  corses  of  a  nation's  gallant  youth;  when  he 
conned  the  trials  through  which  all  would  have  to  pass 
before  the  end  was  reached  he  sent  into  his  music  all  the 
strength  of  a  soul  seasoned  to  endurance  and  nerved  to 
unyielding  determination. 

When  he  saw  the  piteous  eyes  of  wives  and  maidens  as 
they  silently  flocked  about  him  and  drank  in  the  aAvful 
significance  of  the  message  he  brought,  his  heart  almost 
softened  and  his  breath  was  fain  to  attune  itself  to  milder 
strains;  but  when  he  looked  again  and  saw  back  of  this 
piteous  pleading  the  strong  souls  of  these  heroines  and 
that  they  would  not  have  him  hesitate  even  though  their 
hearts  were  bleeding,  then  he  triumphed  with  them, 
and  sang  the  song  of  their  victory  in  a  nobler  note! 

No  one  knew  better  than  he  that  for  the  moment  the 
burden  of  the  day  rested  upon  him  chiefly.  The  hour 
that  was  to  try  not  only  the  souls  of  men  but  of  women, 
j'.lso,  had   come.     Nothing   that   had  ,gone    before    and 


god's  war.  59 

nothing  that  could  follow  could  equal  the  strain  that 
this  hour  brought  upon  the  niauhood  aud  ^Noiuauhood  uf 
Clayton.  For  it  v»-as  the  hour  set  for  the  assembling  of 
the  volunteers  to  take  up  the  line  of  march  from  their 
peaceful  homes  to  meet  the  swiftly-coming  chances  of 
war.  Alii]  while  he  knew  his  neighbors  well  enough  to 
know  that  trying  as  the  ordeal  might  be  they  would 
triumph  over  it,  that  they  were  men  who  were  not  accus- 
tomed to  the  idle  aud  thoughtless  assumption  of  responsi- 
bilities and  were  therefore  not  of  those  to  be  frightened 
from  an  undertaking  of  which  they  had  counted  the  cost, 
still  he  knew  that  with  the  inspiration  he  could  furnish 
new  courage  would  come  to  lift  up  their  hearts. 

Can  we  ever  forget  the  old  man  as  he  stood  there  that 
day,  tall  and  thin,  with  the  snows  of  years  upon  the  sparse 
locks  that  straggled  down  to  his  shoulders,  the  roses  of 
hale  old  age  on  his  clean-shaven  cheeks  and  the  fire  of 
heroism  in  his  steel-blue  eyes,  his  hat  off  and  his  head 
thrown  forward,  his  foot  keeping  time  with  the  music  as 
he  played?  He  may  have  beeu  an  uncouth  old  man  of 
rude  speech  and  manners,  but  his  soul  was  clean  and  his 
heart  was  the  heart  of  a  Eound-Table  Knight.  It  beat 
with  a  man's  love  for  his  race  with  a  saint's  pity  for  their 
sufferings  and  a  warrior's  daring  in  their  cause.  And 
there  was  no  rudeness  in  the  song  with  which  he  sum- 
moned his  comrades  to  their  task.  Its  grammar  was 
perfect  and  its  eloquence  divine. 

Of  course  not  all  of  his  comrades  had  come  to  the  point 
where  they  looked  at  things  as  he  did.  The  late  fol- 
lowers of  Lawyer  Jordan  were  not  all  of  them  as  yet,  by 
any  means,  "Abolitionists."  They  were  simply  "Union 
men."  They  were  to  grow  a  great  deal  before  they 
caught  up  with  old  Fielding.  There  were,  in  truth,  cot 
many  besides  Nat  aud  Miles  who  were  in  entire  harmony 
with  the  old  fifer.  Tom  was  not,  certainly.  He  had  given 
the  matter  but  little  attention.  So  far,  he  was  rejoiced 
chiefly  at  an  opportunity  to  get  away  from  uncongeuial 
surroundings  and  to  enter  upon  a  life  whose  romantic 
promise  was  inexpressibly  attractive  to  him.  He  was  to 
reach  manhood  by  a  short  cut.  Aud  he  was  to  have  an 
opportunity  to  win  a  name  and  a  fame  that  would  wipe 


r,o  noD  s  WAR. 

out  the  few  j-ears  that  stood  between  him  and  Margaret 
Henderson.  He  didn't  stop  to  inquire  what  l:e  would  do 
when  this  desirable  result  was  accomplished,  nor  to 
speculate  upon  the  matter  further  than  to  dccid©  that 
when  he  had  won  a  man's  laurels  he  would  no  longer  be 
a  boy  and  that  neilhcr  ho  nor  Margaret  would  ever  stop 
to  think  again  about  his  age. 

But  Tom,  with  the  few  other  thoughtless  ones,  and 
Lawyer  Jordan's  late  followers,  were  all  to  come  to  old 
Fielding's  way  of  thinking  and  take  their  places  with 
Nat  and  IMiles,  before  they  were  through  with  the  work 
they  had  so  suddenly  entered  upon ;  and  old  Fielding 
knew  it,  by  instinct,  and  hailed  as  brothers  to-day  men 
whom  yesterday  he  detested  as  aliens  from  the  saving- 
knowledge  of  God's  righteousness. 

And  so  they  gathered,  in  the  dropping  twilight  of  the 
early  evening,  Tom  and  Nat  and  Miles,  and  we  know 
what  they  were  leaving;  and  Aleck  Anderson,  casting 
behind  him  his  reckless,  half-vagabond  life  with  others, 
his  companions;  and  Jim  Druett  from  his  law  studies; 
and  Sam  Jamieson  from  his  case  in  the  Eagle  office  and 
his  old,  praying  mother  who  gave  him  her  blessing  and 
was  glad  and  proud  of  him  while  her  heart  was  breaking 
with  gloomy  fears;  and  John  Everett  from  his  new  farm, 
half-paid  for,  and  his  big  family  of  little  children;  and 
Will  "Walters,  the  dapper  little  clerk  from  the  dry-goods 
store;  antl  John  Wesley  Hammond,  the  young  Methodist 
parson  elbow  to  elbow  with  Andrew  McQuirk,  the  mid- 
dle-aged Scotchman  who  had  preached  the  terrors  of  Cal- 
vinism and  had  made  the  Presbyterian  meeting-house 
fairly  reel  with  the  thunders  of  his  denunciations  of  the 
accursed  institution  of  human  slaverj'  for  these  twenty 
years;  and  Ed  Hobson,  the  big  rawboned  country  school- 
teacher who  had  come  to  town  by  accident  just  in  time 
to  enlist,  which  he  did  with  a  sigh  of  relief  to  think  that 
he  would  not  have  to  enter  the  hated  schcolhouse  again, 
for  awhile  at  least;  and  Albert  Olmstead,  who  left  his 
widowed  mother  in  paroxysms  of  grief  which  she  would 
not  trj'  to  stay;  and  John  Hendley,  who  resigned  hastily 
from  the  Common  Pleas  bench  and  sought  to  participate 
in  an  arbitrament  sterner  than  any  to  which  he  had  been 


god's  war.  61 

accustomed,  but  for  which  his  soul  had  been  longing,  and 
which  had  come  at  last;  and  Harry  Hunter,  just  graduated 
from  Gambler;  and  young  Dr.  Woods,  and  Charley  Hall, 
the  shoemaker,  and  Robert  Snead,  the  carpenter;  and 
Dick  Drummond,  the  loafer— why  prolong  the  list?  With 
the  flower  of  the  town  the  weeds  were  bound  up— aud 
we  shall  see  some  of  them  disappear  in  the  stern  shifting 
of  war's  selection  and  others  springing  up  to  magnificent 
manhood— from  every  rank  in  life  in  Clayton,  and  from 
all  parties,  creeds,  churches,  sects  and  religions,  the  well, 
and  the^  sick,  the  strong  and  the  weak,  the  good  and  the 
bad.  Nearly  all  of  them  very  quiet  and  grave,  but  some 
of  them,  of  course,  half-drunk  and  noisy. 

They  carried  wardrobes,  in  some  cases  knotted  up  in 
handkerchiefs  swung  on  sticks  over  their  shoulders;  but 
for  the  most  part  in  sacks  made  of  cotton  cloth  glazed  to 
imitate  leather.  Provisions  enough  were  brought  to  sup- 
ply them  for  a  week,and  as  they  realized  that  they  could  not 
burden  themselves  thus  uselessly  they  gave  pain  to  wives 
aud  mothers  and  sweethearts  who  had  toiled  to  prepare 
them  dainties. 

Fortunately  Miles  had  picked  up  enough  knowledge  of 
military  drill  from  the  Massachusetts  militia  to  be  able 
after  a  half-hour's  work  to  teach  his  men  how  to  form 
company,  face  to  the  right  in  ranks  of  four  and  come  to 
a  front  again — and  he  deepened  thereby  the  admiration 
that  had  been  growing  in  the  town  since  the  events  of 
the  afternoon  at  the  market-house. 

Nearly  the  entire  population  had  turned  out  to  see  the 
volunteers  off,  and  the  boys  had  gathered  boxes  and  bar- 
rels with  which  they  made  a  huge  bonfire  to  give  light. 
Its  flickering  shone  on  the  brass  ball  surmounting  the 
spire  which  grew  out  of  the  cupola  of  the  courthouse  be- 
hind them,  and  lighted  up  the  faces  of  the  women 
thronged  on  the  steps  of  the  shops  across  the  street  in 
front  of  them.  Among  these  latter  Tom  aud  Miles  rec- 
ognized the  pale,  beautiful  face  of  the  woman  they  both 
loved,  and  Nat  dared  not  to  look,  for  he  knew  that  some- 
where there,  shaded  from  the  brightest  glare,  Susie  was 
watching,  with  Dick  in  her  arms.  He  had  bidden  her 
good-by  in  a  half-hour's  talk  in  the  little  sitting  room. 


62  god's   AVAR. 

when  they  and  the  children  before  God  were  as  to  their 
souls  and  hearts  naked  and  not  a.shamed,  revealing  their 
secret  thoughts  as  they  had  never  dreamed  of  doing. 
Tenderness  might  be  permitted  there,  but  nothing  but 
stoicism  could  be  allowed  on  the  street. 

"My  friends,"  cried  one,  when  at  last  everything 
seemed  to  be  ready  for  the  departure,  "you  are  about  to 
start  out  to  the  war- " 

"Yes,  and  wo  don't  want  any  flapdoodle  about  it, 
either,"  replied  Nat  with  great  promptness,  cutting  down 
thus  remorselessly  the  professional  orator  of  the  dllage, 
who  had  thought  to  send  the  Claj'tou  heroes  proudly  off 
to  the  war  with  a  fine  speech.  "I'm  not  in  con^mand," 
continued  Nat,  "but  it  seen)s  to  me  that  if  Father  Good- 
man will  just  say  a  little  prayer  for  us  we'll  be  all  ready 
to  march." 

AYith  boAved  and  reverent  heads  the  crowd  heard  the 
good  old  man  commend  the  volunteers  to  the  protection 
of  the  God  in  whose  cause  they  were  going  forth;  and 
Miles,  lifting  his  hat  in  silent  farewell  to  IMargaret,  gave 
the  command  "Right  face,  tile  left,  march!"  Old 
Fielding  struck  up  "Barbara  Allen,"  the  crowd  parted 
and  the  volunteers  took  their  way  steadily  out  the  street 
leading  east,  toward  Bryan's.  As  they  passed  the  people 
closed  in  behind  them  and  followed  quietly  till  they 
reached  the  town  limits,  where  they  gave  three  cheers, 
to  which  the  volunteers  responded  as  they  went  on  alone. 
As  they  came  to  the  turn  in  the  road  and  the  lights  of 
the  village  disappeared,  Old  Fielding  dreAV  a  long  breath 
and  sent  back  the  strains  of  "The  Girl  1  left  Behind  Me" 
by  way  of  a  farewell. 

Oh,  the  pain  in  torn  hearts  as  the  cords  that  bound 
them  to  those  they  loved  stretched  out  till  it  seemed  that 
death  would  snap  them!  And,  oh,  the  strength  of  those 
cords  that  will  stretch  till  they  go  round  the  world  and 
will  never  yield  till  deatli  shall  sever  them! 

How  these  cords  drew  little  Susie  till  she  found  at  last 
that  she  had  walked  miles  after  lier  dear  husband,  with 
poor  Dick  asleep  in  her  tired  arms,  and  returned  home 
to  Aunt  Nan,  and  Rosy  awake  and  hungry  and  cross,  long 
after  midnight!     How   they   held   that   stately   girl,  the 


god's  war.  c,3 

judge's  daughter,  at  the  edpo  of  the  village  till  the  last 
mocking  sound  of  old  Fieldiug's  life  had  died  away  aud 
her  father  had  silently  led  her  home,  where,  seeking  her 
room  she  had  fallen  upon  her  bed  in  a  flood  of  tears! 

And  then  began  a  weary  round  of  days  which  counted 
up  to  weeks  and  weeks  which  grew  to  be  months,  when 
to  those  at  home  the  cross  was  insupportable,  and  yet  it 
was  borne.  Infrequent  mails  brought  occasional  letters 
from  the  loved  ones  in  the  field  upon  which  mothers 
wives  and  sweethearts,  living  dazed  lives,  fed  and  drew 
such  comfort  of  life  as  might  be. 


64  GOD'S  WAR. 


PART  II. 

Raw  Materials. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"i  don't  care  if  there's  a  million!" 

"There's  a  whole  regiment  of  Johnnies  just  beyond 
the  cut,  and  they're  dismounting  and  surrounding  us  I 
"What  shall  we  do?"  asked  the  frightened  soldier  of  his 
commander. 

"We'll  do  what  we  were  sent  here  to  do,"  quietly  re- 
plied the  first  corporal  of  Company  "A"  of  the  Second 
Regiment  of  Infantry.     He  was  the  commander. 

"Well,  but  for  God's  sake!  There's  only  eleven  of  us, 
and  there's  a  thousand  of  them." 

"I  don't  care  if  there's  a  million." 

From  the  indolent  tone  and  drawl  you  would  have  sup- 
posed that  this  first  corporal  was  discussing  a  question  in 
which  he  took  but  a  slight  and  very  languid  interest. 

"But  they'll  eat  us  up!" 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Why,  we  can't  hold  out  a  minute!" 

"Well,  we  won't  knock  under  till  the  minute  is  up." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you're  going  to  fight?" 

"Yes." 

"Against  such  tremendous  odds?" 

"I  don't  find  it  in  the  books,  so  far,  that  we're  ex- 
pected to  fight  oulj'  when  the  enemy's  force  is  smaller 
than  ours." 

"But  do  you  find  it  ia  the  books  that  eleven  men  have 
got  to  tight  a  thousand?" 

i 


god's  war.  65 

"Yes,  when  it's  necessary." 

""Why,  you're  crazy!  Nobody  would  blame  you  for 
surreudering-  to  such  an  overwhelraing  force." 

"I  don't  intend  to  give  them  the  chance  to  blame  me." 

"I  tell  you  again  that  there's  a  thousaud  of  them." 

"I  tell  3'ou  again  that  I  don't  care  if  there  is  a  million 
of  them." 

Who  but  Tom  had  such  a  way  of  saying  that  he  didn't 
"care"  when  he  didn't?  Who  else  had  such  a  supple, 
swinging  way  of  going  ahead  when  once  he  had  made  up 
his  mind;  such  a  lithe,  withy  disregard  of  consequences? 
Yes,  it  was  Tom.  He  continued  :  "But  we've  had  enough 
talk.  We  were  sent  here  to  guard  that  bridge  and  my 
orders  don't  say  that  we  are  to  run  away  from  it  the 
minute  the  enemy  comes  in  sight.  That's  no  way  to 
guard  it.  It  strikes  me  that's  just  the  time  to  stick. 
We're  not  'Home  Guards.'  If  I  understand  this  war 
business  we  are  expected  to  fight  occasionally.  I  enlisted 
with  that  understanding.  Now,  if  the  Johnnies  get  that 
bridge  they  will  burn  it  and  our  troops  can't  get  down  to 
Manassas  Junction.  That's  why  they  want  to  burn  the 
bridge.  It  is  our  business  to  keep  them  from  doing  it, 
and  that's  what  we'll  do  so  long  as  we  can.  Get  to  your 
places  and  don't  fire  till   I  tell  you  to." 

A  pretty  long  speech  for  Corporal  Tom. 

"But  we  can  escape  now — the  Johnnies  haven't  got 
around  to  the  east  of  us — they're  all  down  there  in  the 
cut.     We  can  get  away !" 

"Not  till  we  get  orders.  There  ought  to  be  a  train- 
load  of  soldiers  along  here  pretty  soon  and  they  will 
di'ive  the  cavalry  off.  Meantime  we'll  keep  them  from 
burning  the  bridge — if  we  can." 

"Well,  you  can  stay  here  if  you  want  to.  I'm  going- 
back  to  the  regiment." 

"Bar  the  door,  Aleck.  I'll  shoot  the  first  man  who 
tries  to  desert!" 

"You  won't  shoot  me- " 

"If  3'ou  try  to  desert  I  will." 

"You're " 

"That'll  do — get  to  your  places — Dick,  I  think  I  see  a 
movement  in  the  bushes  just   beyond  the  bridge — yes 


Hfi  god's  war. 

— there  he  comes — wait  till  he  passes  the  tree  on  the 
right  and  then  let  him  have  it!" 

"He  don't  seem  to  l)e  in  no  hurry,  neither,"  said  Dick. 

"No.  He's  looking  about  to  see  where  we  are.  He 
will  find  out  in  a  minute  or  two. " 

"Why  don't  he  stand  up  like  a  man?" 

"Like  a  fool,  you  mean.  He  doesn't  want  to  expose 
himself." 

"I've  got  all  the  soldiering  I  want,"  said  the  man 
who  had  brought  in  the  announcement  of  the  arrival  of 
the  enemy.     "I'm  mighty  glad  my  three  months  is  up." 

"So  am  I,"  replied  Tom. 

"We  won't  enlist  again,  will  we,  Tom?" 

"Not  in  the  same  company  nor  regiment  if  I  find  out 
which  one  you're  going  to  join." 

While  he  talked  Tom's  eyes  were  fastened  upon  the 
advancing  enemy. 

"There  he  comes,"  cried  Dick. 

"Well,  keep  cool  about  it.  Don't  aim  higher  than  his 
chest." 

The  report  of  the  musket  had  scarcely  sounded  when 
the  Johnnie  jumped  into  the  air — a  sure  indication  of  a 
mortal  wound — then  fell  in  a  convulsive  heap  on  the 
ground. 

Instantly,  with  a  shout  of  rage  and  defiance,  half  a  dozen 
of  the  stricken  man's  companions  rushed  from  their  con- 
cealment in  the  bushes. 

"Now  then — all  together — don't  waste  any  shots! 
Load  and  fire  as  rapidly  as  you  can!" 

The  men  in  the  stockade  poured  in  a  volley,  and  two 
more  Johnnies  fell.  Dick  had  reloaded  b^'  this  time  and 
his  second  shot  fetched  a  fourth.  The  remaining  three 
lied. 

This  happened  on  a  Sundaj',  just  seven  days  before  the 
first  battle  of  Bull  Run.  The  regiment  to  which  the 
Clayton  Volunteers  had  been  assigned  as  Company  "A," 
had  spent  two  out  of  the  three  months  for  which  they 
were  enlisted  in  and  about  Washington,  drilling,  help- 
ing to  build  forts,  etc.  In  the  latter  part  of  June  they 
were  sent  to  the  Virginia  side  of  the  Potomac,  and  about 
two  weeks  before  the  occurrence  of  which*  we  have   seen 


GOD'S  WAR.  67 

the  beginniug  Tom  had  been  sent  with  a  party  of  ten 
under  command  of  Sergeant  Kellogg — Nat — ^to  guard 
the  bridge  upon  which  the  railway  crossed  a  small  stream. 

The  lay  of  the  ground  was  such  that  it  was  hard  to  get 
accommodations  for  his  men;  Avhich  led  Nat  to  construct 
what  was  perhaps  the  first  bridge  stockade  built  during 
the  war.  The  railroad  wound  arouud  a  steep  hill  facing 
south.  The  bridge  was  at  the  west  end  of  the  hill,  which, 
almost  up  to  the  stream,  had  been  dug  down  to  make  a 
roadbed.  South  of  the  road  lay  an  immense  ravine, 
receding  sharply  from  the  embankment  which  was  stayed 
hy  a  rude  stone  wail.  On  the  west  side  of  the  stream  the 
road  trended  southward  through  a  deep  cut,  and  it  was 
in  this  cut  that  the  enemy  had  been  discovered  by  the 
guard  as  he  lazily  lounged  across  the  structure. 

Nat  did  not  flatter  himself  that  he  was  born  for  a  sol- 
dier nor  anything  else  in  particular  but  a  pretty  good 
blacksmith,  but  he  soon  realized  that  if  he  got  a  comfor- 
table place  for  quarters  he  would  have  to  dig  it  out  of  the 
side  of  the  hill.  He  found  a  spot  within  fifty  yards  of 
the  bridge,  where  a  huge  shelf  of  rock  projected  about 
eight  feet  above  the  level  of  the  roadway,  and  here  he  dug- 
out a  sort  of  a  cave  large  enough  to  accommodate  his 
men.  The  stone  above  formed  a  good  roof,  and  the  thing 
was  comfortable  enough  except  in  the  afternoon,  when 
the  hot  sun  gave  them  great  annoyance.  After  enduring 
it  for  a  day  or  two  Nat  finally  concluded  to  put  a  front 
to  his  cave.  A  wrecked  freight  car  lying  half  a  mile  off 
furnished  the  lumber,  which  he  utilized  by  driving  posts 
into  the  ground,  two  together  but  just  far  enough  apart 
to  admit  his  boards  edgewise.  He  had  no  nails,  nothing 
but  a  hatchet  and  an  ax. 

When  he  had  i)ut  up  the  "face"  of  his  cave  his  men 
made  a  roof  of  green  boughs,  which  hung  over  and  soon 
became  withered  and  browned  by  the  sun.  The  boards 
were  already  innnted  a  reddish  brown,  and  similar  in 
color  to  the  clay  of  the  hillside,  so  that  one  might  pass 
very  near  to  the  place  without  observing  the  habitation. 
From  the  bridge  a  stranger  would  be  pretty  sure  not  t- 
see  it.  A  door  had  been  wrenched  from  the  car  an  I 
placed  inside  the  hut,  ov  Hiockade,  or  cave—the  reador 
way  call  it  whatever  he  yhouses. 


68  god's  war. 

This  was  very  comfortable  and  was  much  enjoyed  for 
a  da3'  or  two.  The  duty  of  guardiug  the  bridge  was  per- 
formed in  a  most  perfunctory  way,  and  as  there  was  no 
drilling  nor  fatigue  duty  to  do  the  boy.s  cuugratulated 
themselves  on  their  good  luck. 

You  smile,  you  grizzled  old  warrior,  at  such  soldiering 
as  this!  But  you  must  remember  that  this  was  very  earl.y 
in  the  war,  when  our  volunteers  were  picnicking,  so  to 
speak.  They  learned  very  rapidly  during  the  next  year 
or  two.  Up  to  this  time,  however,  experience  in  earnest 
war  had  taught  them  very  little.  For  one  thing,  for  ex- 
ample, they  had  an  exceedingly  strong  notion  that  they 
would  crush  the  rebellion  in  the  ver^'  first  battle  they  got 
into;  and  their  notion  of  how  they  should  tight  that  bat- 
tle was  just  as  crude  as  ^-ou  could  expect  from  an  army 
of  lawj'ers  and  judges  and  doctors  and  preachers  and 
painters  and  farmers  and  carpenters  and  shoemakers  and 
blacksmiths,  who  had  never  smelled  powder. 

One  da.y,  however,  an  idea  seemed  to  strike  Sergeant 
Kellogg.  He  and  Corporal  Bailey  had  climbed  the  hill 
west  of  the  stream  and  were  lying  in  the  shade  of  a  tree, 
looking  idly  down  at  the  bridge. 

"I've  just  been  thinking,  Tom " 

"Don't  do  it!  You're  getting  no  pay  for  it.  You're 
paid  only  for  fighting — and  for  the  amount  you've  done 
I'm  of  the  opinion  that  you've  been  overpaid." 

"There,  there;  listen  to  me!  That's  what  I've  been 
thinking  about.     Now,  what  were  we  sent  here  for?" 

Tom  looked  at  him  with  an  expression  of  indolent  in- 
quiry. 

"That's  the  question,"  added  Nat. 

"Why,  to  guard  the  bridge,  I  reckon — I  haven't  seen 
your  orders." 

"That's  what  they  saj'." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  it's  just  struck  mo  that  we  would  guard  this 
bridge  like  the  old  woman  kept  tavern  in  Indiana  if  any 
Johnnies  should  attack  it." 

Tom  grew  interested— just  a  little  bit. 

"Do  3'ou  expect  them  to  attack  it?" 

"Well,  I  should  scarcely  thiuk  they'd  i&ut  us  here  if 
they  didn't  think  that  they  might  attack  it." 


GOD'S   WAR.  69 

•'That's  SO." 

"I've  been  thinking  that  if  the  Johnnies  should  coino 

in  any   force    we   wouldn't  be   more'n  a  half  a  bite   for 

•era!'' 
"That  would  depend  on  how  long  we  would  last." 
"Exactly.     And  how  long:  would  we  last  if  wo  had  to 

stand  out  there — for  we've  got  to  defend  the  bridge — and 

let  the  Johnnies  stay  up  here  in  the  bushes  and  shoot  at 

usV" 

"We  could  flank  them — that's  military." 

"Yes,  and  raise  thunder!     While  we  were  gallivantin' 

around,  flankin'  and  cutting    all    them    military  frills, 

they'd  burn  the  bridge!" 

"That's  so!     Well,  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  it?" 

"That's  what  I've  been  thinking  about." 

A  brief  pause  followed,  during  which  Tom  chewed  the 

stems  of  the  long  timothy  grass  and  Nat  was  buried  in 

profound  thought,  his  brows  knitted  and  his  eyes  fixed 

on  the  scene  below. 

"Tom,  what  would  you  call  that  thing  down  there?" 
"What  thing?"  asked  Tom,  rising  quickly  on  his  elbow. 
"Why  the  thing  we  live  in." 
"Oh,"  said  Tom,  falling  back  into  the  grass  with  an 

air  of    relief.     "Why,  that's  a — a — why    that's   a    she- 
bang!" 

"Very  well.     Now  we've  got  to  fix  up  the  shebang  so 

that  we  can  fight  in  it." 
"How?" 
"Cut  some  holes  in  her  and  fix  up  the  door  so  we  can 

shut  her  up." 

"Sergeant  Kellogg,  you're  a  smart  man — almost  smart 

enough  to  be  a  second  lieutenant.     If  you  keep  on  I'll 

recommend  you  for  promotion!" 

"Come  on,"  answered  Nat,  "we've  no  time  to  lose." 

"W^hy?     Do  you  see  any  Johnnies  coming?" 

"No,  nor  I  don't  want  to  till  I  get  the  shebang  fixed 

up  so's  we  can  entertain  them  when  they  call." 

The  detail  had  to  work  like  beavers  for  the  next 
twenty-four  hours,  but  at  last,  with  the  thickness  of  the 
board  front  doubled,  holes  cut  for  muskets  and  the  door 
arranged  so  that  it  could  be  closed  and  barred,  the  she- 


70  god's  war. 

bang:  bad  heen  converted  iiito  a  jnetty  good  sort  of  a 
stockade.  An  opening  at  tho  east  side,  furthest  from 
the  bridi-^o,  gave  aini^le  liKht. 

He  had  ycaroely  i^ot  his  defenses  coniiiit:ted  when  Nat 
was  ordered  back  to  the  regiment,  ten  miles  in  the  rear, 
and  Tom  v^- as  left  in  command.  So  lung-  as  Nat  was  pres- 
ent Tom  was  very  careless  and  took  life  easy  like  a  major 
with  the  colonel  and  lieutenant-colonel  present  for  duty. 

So  soon,  however,  as  the  responsibility  of  the  post  de- 
volved on  him  he  became  watchful  and  alert.  The  at- 
tack found  him  ready.  He  knew  that  if  there  really  was 
a  regiment  of  Johnnies  it  would  be  a  question  of  time 
only,  and  that  unless  a  train  happened  along  he  would  be 
overpowered  sooner  or  later.  But  he  meant  to  fight  as 
long  as  he  could.  That  was  about  the  clearest  impres- 
sion he  had  in  the  premises. 

His  effort  at  repelling  the  advance  on  the  bridge  had 
been  so  successful  and  bloody  for  a  small  affair  that  the 
enemy  rested  in  concealment  for  some  little  time.  They 
had  met  with  so  warm  a  reception  that  they  had  con- 
cluded to  consult  over  the  matter  before  making  a  second 
essay.  It  behooved  them  to  think.  They  had  expected 
to  meet  nothing  more  formidable  than  a  corporal's  guard. 
The  vigor  of  their  repulse  was  as  if  it  came  from  a  reg- 
iment. Tom  watched  from  his  shebang  with  great 
anxiety  for  their  reappearance  and  thanked  God  for 
every  moment's  delay;  feeling  that  it  brought  his  train 
with  succor  that  much  nearer. 

At  last  a  bugle-call  was  heard  from  near  the  enemy's 
position  and  three  men — an  officer,  a  soldier  bearing  a 
handkerchief  on  a  staff,  and  a  bugler  cautiously  emerged 
from  the  cut  at  the  west  end  of  the  bridge.  The3'  were 
without  arms. 

"A  flag  of  truce,"  said  Tom.  "They  want  to  talk  it 
over. ' ' 

"Don't  3'ou  go  out  there — they  might  hurt  you." 

"Ob,  no,  they  won't — not  under  a  flag  of  truce.  Aleck, 
I  leave  you  in  command.  Keep  a  sljarp  eye  on  them, 
and  if  they  do  try  to  play  me  any  games  do  what  you  can 
to  help  me." 

"All  right— but  be  careful!"'  ♦ 


god's  war.  71 

"I  will,"  answered  Tom,  as  be  stftppocl  out  and  slipped 
dovvu  the  steep  bill  to  the  bridge.  Tbe  bearers  of  the 
flag  advauced  to  meet  bim,  bnltiug  midway  of  tbe  bridge. 

"I  have  come  from  Colonel  Harding  to  demand  tbe 
tiurrender  of  your  garrison,  sir.  I  am  a  captain,  sir, 
:uul  it  is  scarcely  a  fair  return  of  our  courtesy  that  your 
tiommanding  officer  sends  out  a  corporal  to  meet  me." 

"You  are  mistaken,  sir,"  said  Tom,  with  dignity  and 
yet  a  gentle  air  of  bumor,  "we  ougbt  to  complain  if  any 
complaint  is  to  be  made,  since  tbe  commanding  officer 
of  our  forces  comes  in  person  to  meet  you." 

"Do  you  mean  that  you  are  in  command?" 

"I  do." 

"Well,  sir,  I  have  but  few  words  to  say,  sir.  I  sum- 
mon you  to  surrender  at  once." 

"And  I  bave  fewer  to  answer.     We  won't  do  it." 

"Won't  surrender?" 

"Not  any." 

"This  is  no  time  for  braggadocio." 

"I've  no  intention  of  bragging." 

"Why,  sir,  we  bave  a  thousand  men  here." 

"So  I  have  been  told." 

"You  can't  hold  out  against  us. " 

"I'll  try  it." 

"Why,  we  can  eat  you  up." 

"Yes?" 

"It  will  be  hopeless  to  attempt  to  resist." 

"Still,  I  will  attempt  it.  I  bave  some  pretty  good  men 
under  my  command,  and  I  assure  you  you  won't  get  this 
bridge  without  fighting  for  it." 

"We  must  have  the  bridge,  and  we  will!" 

"Not  without  paying  for  it." 

"I  warn  you  that  if  you  persist  in  your  foolish  resist- 
ance you  will  be  given  no  mercy — if  you  surrender  now 
we  will  parole  you  and  let  you  go  home — if  you  resist  we 
will  show  you  no  quarter." 

"I  don't  ask  any,  sir.  It  is  useless  to  waste  words. 
I  was  ordered  to  defend  this  bridge  and  I'll  do  it  so  long 
as  I  have  a  round  of  ammunition  and  a  man  to  handle  a 
musket.  I  don't  know  much  about  soldiering,  but  I 
know  that  muchl" 


72  GOD'S   WAR. 

"You  are  a  brave  man — or  boy — and  I'na  sorry  for 
you." 

"Don't  mention  it,  I  beg!     Have  you  anything  more 

to  883'?" 

"Nothing." 

"Then  we  may  a.s  well  return  to  our  friends,  I  reckon." 

"Are  there  many  such  men  as  you  in  your  army?" 

"I  hope  we  have  but  few  who  are  not  better  men." 

"It  is  an  honor  to  fight  such  men  I" 

"We  will  try  to  be  worthj'  of  your  good  opinion." 

"Good-by,  sir." 

"Good-by." 

And  shaking  hands  cordially  they  separated,  each  re- 
turning to  his  command. 

"Now  then,  boys,"  said  Tom,  "the  fighting  begins  in 
earnest!  Take  care  that  every  shot  counts  and  don't  give 
up  till  I  say  the  word!" 

The  men  took  their  places,  drawing  coolness  from  their 
leader,  till  .vou  would  have  thought  them  veterans. 

"What  did  they  want?"  asked  Dick. 

"They  wanted  us  to  surrender." 

"Surrender?  Before  we'd  had  a  fight?"  asked  Aleck 
incredulously. 

"Precisely." 

"Well,  that  was  mighty  cheeky!" 

"You  was  an  infernal  fool  not  to  do  it,"  whined  Hil- 
man,  the  coward  who  had  first  given  notice  of  the 
presence  of  the  enemy. 

"If  I  hear  another  word  out  of  you  I'll  put  you  out- 
side to  draw  their  fire!"  said  Tom  fiercely'.  "Get  back 
there  out  of  the  way  and  keep  still!" 

"Here  they  come!"   shouted  Dick. 

This  time  they  came  to  the  number  of  a  score  and 
without  paying  any  heed  to  Tom  and  his  men  they  de- 
voted all  their  energies  to  an   attempt  to  fire  the  bridge. 

The  little  band  in  the  shebang  opened  fire  with  great 
coolness  and  deadly  effect.  Still  the  Johnnies  stuck  to 
their  work,  a  new  man  stepping  forward  to  take  the 
place  of  every  one  that  was  stricken.  In  a  very  few 
minutes  smoke  began  to  ascend  from  the  west  end  of  the 
bridge.  . 


god's  war.  73 

"They've  got  her  started!"  shouted  Dick.  "Hadn't 
we  better  go  out  and  charge  them?" 

"No — then  they  will  have  us.  They  are  too  many  for 
us,  man  to  man,  with  cold  steel.  This  is  the  best  place 
to  do  effective  work." 

Tom  had  scarceb*  ceased  speaking  when  a  ragged  roar, 
like  the  rending  of  a  mighty  sail,  was  heard  and  simul- 
taneously a  shower  of  balls  pattered  on  the  hillside  and 
all  around,  above  and  below  them. 

"They  are  up  on  the  hill!"  screamed  one  of  the  men, 
suddenly  growing  frantic  with  excitement. 

"I  don't  care  if  they  are,"  said  Tom.  "Keep  cool, 
nobody's  hurt  yet!  Fire  on  the  fellows  at  the  bridge — 
leave  the  fellows  on  the  hill  alone.  Now  then — give  it 
to  'em!" 

The  Johnnies  had  climbed  the  hill  south  of  the  cut  and 
were  firing  like  demons. 

"I'm  afraid  the  bridge  is  gone,"  said  Tom. 

"See  them  crossing  the  bridge!" 

Sure  enough!  A  hundred  of  them  at  least  were  hur- 
rying over  the  bridge,  with  the  evident  purpose  of 
storming  the  shebang. 

"Give  it  to  'em!"  yelled  Tom.  "They  shan't  all  get 
here,  anyhow!" 

He  realized  that  the  supreme  moment  had  come  at  last, 
as  did  his  men,  and  they  nerved  themselves  to  die  like 
men.  The  Johnnies  came  swarming  up  the  hill  yelling 
like  devils,  when  just  as  they  were  at  the  threshold  of  the 
shebang  the  scream  of  a  bugle  mingled  with  the  shriek  of 
a  locomotive  was  heard  and  as  their  comrades  disap- 
peared from  the  hilltop  beyond,  those  in  Tom's  front 
tumbled  to  the  track  and  sought  refuge  as  best  the}' 
might.  But  some  were  crushed  by  the  engine,  while 
others  were  shot  down  by  the  soldiers  on  the  train  as  it 
rushed  over  the  bridge  and  stopped  in  the  cut  whence 
came  the  confused  roar  of  instant,  bitter  carnage. 

"The  buckets!"  cried  Tom  so  soon  as  his  front  was 
cleared ;  and  with  his  men  in  a  few  moments  he  had 
water  from  the  stream  upon  the  burning  timbers.  So 
soon  as  he  had  extinguished  the  flames  he  returned  to 
the  sbfbang. 


74  god's  war. 

The  first  sight  that  met  his  eyes  was  the  dead  body  of 
Hilman.  The  poor  wretch  in  seeking  safety  had  found 
danger  in  the  back  part  of  the  cave,  where  a  glancing 
shot  had  given  him  his  death — the  only  loss  to  Corporal 
Tom's  command. 

In  another  moment  Nat  and  Miles  were  at  his  side.  It 
was  his  own  regiment  on  the  train,  en  route  to  Manasses 
Junction;  and  they  took  him  and  his  men  along  with 
them,  leaving  to  others  the  duty  of  guarding  the  bridge. 

It  was  the  first  time  that  any  of  the  regiment  had  been 
under  fire.  And  if  Tom's  eyes  glowed  with  gratification 
when  he  was  complimented  on  all  hands,  and  by  the 
general  commanding  the  division  in  a  published  order  in 
which  his  exploit  was  set  forth,  who  shall  blame  him? 
Or  Miles  for  sending  home  to  Margaret  Henderson  a  copy 
of  a  Washington  paper  containing  an  elaborate  if  highly 
colored  account  of  the  affair?  "Was  it  not  a  generous  and 
manly  thing? 

For  Miles  had  guessed  that  the  woman  he  loved  was 
equally  dear  to  his  first  corporal. 


god's  war.  76 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

A  STRANGE  THING  HAPPENS  IN  CLAYTON. 

And  now  a  strange  thing  happened  in  Clayton. 

Aunt  Nan  was  coming  home  from  a  visit  to  a  sick 
neighbor  and  she  got  the  news  from  a  small  boy.  With- 
out pausing  to  think,  she  went  ^vith  it  at  once  to  Susie. 
The  little  woman  was  sitting  in  a  low  rocking  chair  with 
Rosy  at  her  fair,  bountiful  breast,  and  her  eyes  were 
filled  with  a  far-away  look;  as  well  they  might  be,  for 
she  was  looking  at  Nat,  away  off  down  South  there,  per- 
haps wounded  and  dying  at  this  very  moment.  She 
sprang  to  her  feet. 

"Aunt  Nan!" 

It  was  almost  a  shriek,  for  the  old  woman's  sallow  face 
held  the  horror  of  an  awful  message. 

"There's  been  a  battle,  honey,  down  in  Virginia!" 

"And  Nat?" 

"I  dont  know,  honey,  I  didnt  hear." 

And  as  the  poor,  trembling  little  mother  stood  there 
holding  her  child  to  her  breast  where  it  drank  life  in  its 
sleep.  Aunt  Nan  gave  her  the  news  she  got  from  the  boy. 

A  great  battle  had  been  fought  near  Washington  in 
Virginia.  The  rebels  had  an  overwhelming  force  and  they 
had  whipped  the  Union  armj'  terribly.  What  few  were 
not  killed  outright  had  thrown  down  their  arms  and  fled, 
hunted  by  "Louisiana  Tigers,"  "The  Black  Horse  Cav- 
alry," "The  Texas  Rangers,"  and  other  organizations 
with  terror-breeding  names,  made  up  of  wild,  desperate 
men  who  were  known  to  be  athiched  to  the  rebel  army  at 
Manassas.  Only  a  few  of  the  Union  soldiers  had  escaped 
with  their  lives. 

This  was  the  story,  in  brief,  that  Aunt  Nan,  having  it 
from  the  boy,  had  repeated  to  poor  little  Susie.     Before 


76  god's  war. 

she  concluded  it  Snsie  sank  down  upon  the  haircloth 
«ofa  where  she  sat,  her  eyes  growing  hollower  each  sec- 
ond, as  if  she  were  dying.  Then  she  handed  the  child 
without  a  word,  to  the  old  woman,  rearranged  her  dress 
and  put  on  her  wide-brimmed  straw  hat.  She  was 
trembling  and  almost  tottering. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Down  to  the  judge's.  Maybe — maybe — I  don't  know 
— but  I'm  going  there " 

If  Nat  could  only  have  been  there  to  have  stayed  with 
his  big,  strong  hands  her  trembling  little  lingers,  which 
went  wandering  over  her  dress  front  and  toyed  with  the 
strings  to  her  hat  and  seemed  to  linger  longest  on  the 
brooch  which  fastened  her  collar,  and  which  contained 
his  hair,  although  clearly  the  motion  was  involuntary 
and  she  was  not  thinking  of  that!  If  he  could  have 
ended  that  distresjs  then  and  there  and  brought  peace 
and  comfort  back  to  that  loving  heart  he  would  have  done 
enough  for  one  man's  lifetime! 

But  Nat  wasn't  there.  He  was  very  far  away — heaven 
knew  whether  he  was  even  living  or  not.  Oh,  the  thou- 
sand pictures  of  her  brave  husband  that  sprang  into  her 
mind  in  that  short  minute! 

Lying  dead — stark,  cold  and  bloody,  Avith  his  dear 
face  cloven  by  a  blow  from  the  saber  of  one  of  those 
dreadful,  inhuman  rebels ;  they  had  been  barbarous  with 
slaves  all  their  lives  and  would  think  nothing  of  killing 
a  man ! 


Groaning  on  the  field,  trampled  by  fierce  horses,  suffer- 
ing agonizing  pains,  with  cold  and  deathly  sweat  on  his 
brow,  and  no  one  near  to  do  him  the  simplest  act  of 
God's  charity! 

A  prisoner,  in  the  hands  of  the  brutal  enemy,  who,  it 
might  be,  would  torture  him  as  the  Indians  used  to  tor- 
ture their  captives! 

Helpless  in  a  hospital,  his  ears  filled  with  the  cries 
and  groans  of  the  wounded  under  the  hands  of  the  sur- 
geons, shrieking  as  the  keen  knives  cut  into  them  or  the 
bloody  saws  gnawed  their  bones! 

Pursued  by  infuriated  human  bloodhounds  and  flying 
—but,  no!  Nat  would  never  form  a  part  of  any  such  pic- 
ture as  that ! 


GOD'S   WAR.  77 

And  the  thought  heartened  her  up  a  bit. 

"Aunt  Nan,  lie  may  be  dead,  or  he  may  be  wounded 
or  a  prisoner,  but  Nat  would  never  throw  down  his  gun 
and  run  away!" 

"No,  indeed,  he  wouldn't,  honey!  Maybe  it  would 
be  better  for  him  if  he  would!  But  he  won't  never  turn 
his  back  to  no  man,  even  if  he  was  the  biggest  rebel  in 
all  South  Car'liny!" 

The  men  of  the  North  may  have  doubted  it  at  times, 
but  the  women  and  children  knew  that  without  question 
the  rebels  in  South  Carolina  were  only  approached  in 
natural  ferocit.y  akin  to  that  of  a  wild  beast  by  those  of 
Louisiana  and  Texas.  They  had  terrible  attributes  and 
would  probably  think  little  of  eating  human  flesh,  even 
if  the  notion  should  strike  them  that  by  so  doing  they 
would  add  a  pang  to  the  fears  or  sufferings  of  their 
enemies. 

"I'm  going  to  the. judge's,"  repeated  Susie,  somewhat 
vacantly. 

"Go  along,  an'  don't  worry.  I'll  take  care  of  the 
children. " 

Oh,  yes,  the  children!  She  felt  a  little  hand  grasp  her 
skirts  to  stay  the  unsteady  swaying  of  a  little  figure  and 
looking  down  Susie  gave  a  cry  of  joy,  for  there  were  Nat's 
dear  eyes  smiling  up  at  her!  It  is  true  they  were  in 
little  Dick's  curly  head,  but  they  were  Nat's  eyes,  and 
they  brought  her  Nat's  message  all  the  same.  And  she 
stooped  and  strained  the  little  fellow  to  her  heart  and 
drew  wonderful  strength  and  comfort  from  him.  Then 
she  ^rose  quickly  and  went  swiftlj-  toward  the  judge's 
house. 

It  was  in  the  air! 

Five  minutes  had  not  elapsed  since  Aunt  Nan  and  the 
small  boy  had  held  their  solitary  converse  in  the  de- 
serted street,  and  noAv  the  footwaj's  were  filled  with 
silent,  flitting  figures.  It  was  not  necessary  for  Susie 
to  wonder  whether  they  had  heard  the  news.  Although 
none  of  them  spoke  with  their  tongues  they  cried  aloud 
their  intense  feeling  in  the  gait  with  which  thej'  walked. 
And  as  she  passed  along  men  drew  back  quietly  and  re- 
spectfully, as  they  would  at  a  funeral,  to  give  her  room. 


T8  cod's  war. 

"Poor  Nat!  Dead,  maybe  by  this  time.  He  was  a 
good  fellow,  if  be  was  a  little  rough!"  And  they  fell  to 
suruming  up  his  virtues,  according  to  the  blessed  way  of 
the  world,  in  bubdued  tones. 

Margaret  Henderson  was  sitting  at  the  low  window 
from  which  you  might  step  on  the  lawn  if  it  were  not  for 
the  wild  brier  rosebush  that  would  prick  you.  The 
maiden  was  idly  dreaming  with  the  Ladies'  Repository 
in  her  la)).  The  judge  was  taking  a  comfortable  after- 
dinner  nap  on  the  roomy  lounge  in  the  wide  hall,  twenty 
feet  away.  The  house  was  quiet  and  perfect  repose  and 
silence  reigned,  save  for  the  loud  ticking  of  the  tall  old 
clock  on  the  lauding  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  What  was 
Margaret  thinking  about? 

Do  you  need  to  ask  when  you  see  her  rise  so  quicklj', 
as  Susie  clicked  the  latch  of  the  gate,  and  pass  so  swiftly 
and  noiselessly  out  to  meet  her?  You  are  dull  eyed,  too, 
if  you  cannot  see  that  she  has  grown  paler. 

"Oh,  Margaret,  there's  been  a  dreadful  battle,  and  of 
course  the  regiment  must  have  been  in  it,  for  it  was  in 
Virginia,  right  where  they  were  when  Nat  wrote  me 
last " 

You  are  filling  your  soft,  white  palms  with  thorns,  my 
child,  and  the  blood  from  your  wounds  is  staining  the 
rose  leaves! 

"And  is — is — have  you  heard " 

"Oh,  Margaret,  Margaret,  I  don't  know  whether  Nat 
is  dead  or  alive!  But  I  do  know  that  he  didn't  run  like 
they  say  they  all  did!" 

Ah!  Margaret  remembers  now.     She  rallies  her  senses 
She  had  nearly  betrayed  herself,  but  now  she  is  calm. 

"Of  course  he  didn't!  Who  would  dare  say  such  a 
thing  of  Nat?  Come,  Susie,"  and  she  drew  her  to  the 
bench  under  the  apple  tree  whose  sweeping  boughs  hid 
them  from  the  street,  and  heard  the  terrible  story  in  full. 

Whose  face  is  it  that  Margaret  sees,  pale  and  cold  and 
trampled  with  cruel  hoofprints  into  ihe  bruised  grass 
and  dull  clay  ?  Whose  groan  of  agonj'  falls  upon  her  ear? 
Whose  bright  blood  wells  from  an  awful  gaping  wound? 
Who  is  it,  with  high  courage  and  will,  and  strength  is 
daring  Death  as  he  faces  the  wicked  foe  and  stems  the 


god's  war.  79 

wild,  shameful  retreat?  Whose  face  is  this,  haudsoine 
aud  godlike,  that  is  ever  before  the  maiden's  eyes  as  she 
hears  the  story  Susie  is  tellicg  witli  a  tongue  so  dry  that 
it  will  scarcely  perform  its  functions?  Is  it  yours.  Miles 
Bancroft? 

Or  my  poor,  poor  Tom;  my  bright,  chivalric,  brave 
boy,  is  it  yours?  Do  you  thank  God  in  the  unreasoning 
and  all  daring  hopefulness  of  generous  youth  that  you 
don't  know?     You  ought  to! 

What  has  become  of  all  this  stoicism  that  Clayton  has 
taught  her  children  and  of  which  they  have  been  so 
proud?  What  shameful  weakness!  Would  anything  less 
than  the  rude  shocks  of  war  batter  it  down  as  the  guns 
yonder  batter  down  the  strong  walls  of  the  fort?  If 
nothing  less  would  do  it  let  us  thank  Heaven  that  at  least 
there  is  this  good  gotten  out  of  this  calamity. 

Susie  has  fallen  into  Margaret's  arms  and  together 
they  are  weeping  bitterly.  They  will  feel  all  the  better 
for  it  presently. 

And  it  did  them  good,  and  when  it  had  spent  its  force 
and  they  were  calmer  they  rose  up  and  went  toward  the 
house  to  wake  the  old  man,  who  was  sleeping  uneasily 
there  under  his  red  bandanna  handkerchief ;  but  as  they 
drew  near  the  door  the  clang  of  the  bell  broke  the  silence. 
They  stopped  and  looked  at  each  other  as  if  the  mere 
sound  brought  the  confirmation  of  their  fears.  The  slow, 
dull  peal  was  full  of  meaning ;  a  very  different  meaning 
than  it  had  when  Nat's  strong  thews  were  ringing  Clayton 
patriotism  to  arms.  This  time  it  was  tolled  slowly  and 
solemnly  and  mournfully. 

"What  is  the  bell  ringing  for,  Margaret?  And  why  do 
they  ring  it  so  slowly?" 

The  judge  had  been  asleep,  bear  in  mind,  and  who 
knows  what  he  had  been  dreaming  of? 

"There  is  dreadful  news,  father.  Susie  has  just  told 
me  of  it.  There  has  been  an  awful  battle  fought  down 
in  Virginia  before  Washington,  and  the  Union  forces 
have  been  whipped  and  what  few  of  them  were  not  killed 
or  captured  threw  down  their  arms  aud  fled  in  a  shameful 
panic." 


so  GOD^S   WAR. 

The  judge  rose  from  his  couch  and  listened  to  the  story 
amazed,  breathless  and  almost  stunned.  The  Union  army 
whipped,  throwing  down  its  arms  and  flying  panic 
stricken?  What,  in  God's  name,  did  it  mean?  Was  it 
true  then  that  the  South  had  rated  the  manhood  of  the 
North  properly?  What  was  to  become  of  the  countrj- ? 
Was  God  asleep  and  would  He  permit  such  a  calamity'  as 
the  triumph  of  the  ISouth  would  be?  He  had  never 
dreamed  of  such  a  thing! 

Would  it  be  possible  for  the  North  to  rally  from  such 
a  shock? 

Possible!  It  ??ii/s/ rally !  This  awful  reverse  must  not 
be  permitted  to  be  conclusive  if  even  he  himself  had  to 
shoulder  a  musket  and  oppose  the  dried  marrow  of  his 
old  bones  to  the  insolence  of  these  unholy  victors?  What 
was  this  vision  of  long  years  of  bloodshed  and  devastation 
that  rose  UI1  before  him?  He  had  thought  the  struggle 
would  be  but  a  brief  one,  but  now — he  glanced  at  the 
two  women  gazing  at  him  with  childlike  appeal  in  their 
dewy  eyes.  He  saw  the  pain  in  Susie's  face,  and  with  a 
father's  compassion  he  said,  as  if  involuntarily : 

"My  poor  child!     My  heart  bleeds  for  you!" 

The  blood  rushed  to  Margaret's  face.  He  knew  her 
secret,  she  thought,  and  although  he  had  never  before 
said  a  word  to  her,  his  quick,  warm  heart  could  not  resist 
the  anxiety  he  must  know  consumed  her! 

"You  are  grieving  for  your  husband  and  fearing  all 
evil  for  him,"  and  he  took  Susie's  hand  with  such  fatherly 
tenderness  as  brought  the  tears  afresh  to  her  eyes.  "But 
keep  up  3'our  courage!  It  may  be  all  right  with  him. 
We  cannot  tell.  We  will  soon  know,"  and  he  hands  her 
to  a  seat  with  gentle  kindliness,  repeating  almost  incoher- 
ently his  reassurances. 

And  Margaret?  How  suddenly  and  cruelly  was  she 
undeceived.  The  color  fled  almost  as  quickly  as  it  had 
come.  And  then  she  felt  a  cold  sickness  at  her  heart  as 
she  walked  to  the  window  and  looked  out  into  the  July 
sunlight  and  felt  that  even  if  the  worst  should  come  she 
was  shut  out  from  all  sympathy.  Others  could  have 
friendly  hands  to  hold  them  up  and  h^lp  them  to  bear 
their  heavy  burdens,  but  she  must  go  alone  and  not  even 


god's  war.  81 

have  the  privilege  of  claiming  an  equal  interest  in  the 
fortunes  of  the  time.  And  there  was  no  help  for  it. 
Very  well.  She  would  not  repine.  Indeed  she  could 
not. 

"Come,  let  us  go,"  said  the  old  man  after  a  few 
moments'  thought,  and  without  further  words  the  three 
took  their  waj'  to  the  courthouse,  toward  which  all  the 
people  in  the  village  were  bending  their  steps  as  the 
solemn  bell  still  called  them. 

There  was  no  written  law  for  this.  The  village  council 
had  never  passed  an  ordinance  providing  that  in  time  of 
war  tbe  people  should,  at  the  ringing  of  the  bell,  assem- 
ble at  the  courthouse  to  take  counsel  together.  But  since 
the  April  day  when  Nat  had  assumed  the  leadership  it 
was  as  well  understood  as  if  it  had  been  proclaimed  with 
all  the  impressiveness  of  a  law  duly  enacted  and  pub- 
lished. 

And  as  the  people  entered  the  building  they  silently 
tiled  into  the  seats  and  benches  and  sat  with  a  solemn 
stillness  that  was  broken  now  and  then  only  by  the  sup- 
pressed sobbing  of  a  woman  grieving  over  her  fears,  or 
the  short,  dry  cough  of  a  man,  as  if  he  had  arrived  at 
that  point  in  his  thoughts  when  it  became  necessary  for 
him  to  stop  and  collect  himself  that  he  might  go  on  with 
the  subject  decently  and  in  order. 

Outside,  the  sun  began  to  decline  slowly  toward  the 
west,  and  the  birds  waking  from  their  heat-of-the-day 
nap  began  to  flit  about  and  fill  the  air  with  songs,  v/hile 
a  light  breeze  came  quietly  rustling  the  leaves  of  the 
locusts  and  elms  which,  filled  with  glancing  light,  stood 
by  the  open  windows. 

At  last  the  bell  ceased  its  doleful  tolling  and  an  added 
hush  fell  upon  the  people,  like  that  in  church  at  a 
funei'al.  No  one  thought  of  asking  himself  what  was  to 
be  done  now  that  all  were  gathered  together.  They  were 
there  together,  where  they  could  look  into  each  other's 
faces  and  unite  in  supporting  individual  woes,  if  such 
woes  as  they  faced  could  be  called  individual — were 
aught  else  than  public  calamities.  The  fear  that  Nat 
Kellogg  or  John  Hendley  had  been  killed  in  battle  was 
no  less  their  concern  than  it  wag  that  ol  Susie  or  Rebecca 


82  god's  war. 

Hendley,  the  young  judge's  wife.  And  the  timid  mother 
of  that  ne'er-do-well,  Aleck  Anderson,  the  unassuming 
old  woman  who  had  lost  caste  because  her  wild  son  had 
involved  himself  in  iietty  neighborhood  disgrace,  was 
given  place  and  consideration  that  afternoon  as  the  woman 
who  had  brought  a  hero  and  a  patriot  into  the  world. 

The  preliminary  clearing  of  his  throat  gave  notice  that 
Father  Goodman  was  about  to  open  the  exercises  of  tho 
meeting,  whatever  they  might  prove  to  be,  and  with  one 
consent,  unbidden,  the  throng  rose  and  stood  with  bent 
heads.  They  were  before  their  God,  and  to  Him, 
stretching  forth  his  hands  over  the  stricken  i^eople,  the 
parson  brought  their  griefs. 

"Before  Thee  stand  all  the  nations  and  the  people 
thereof,  and  their  lives  and  their  works  are  in  Thy  hands. 
We  are  but  as  sparrows,  and  yet  Thou  dost  note  the 
fall  of  the  bird  to  the  ground.  "We  have  striven  with 
much  weakness  and  feebleness  but,  oh,  God,  with  no  in- 
firmity of  purpose,  to  keep  Thy  laws  and  to  live  after  Thy 
commandments.  AVhen  we  thought  that  Thou  didst  call 
us  to  go  forth  against  the  enemies  of  Thy  truth,  our 
young  men  and  our  strong  men,  our  fathers,  husbands, 
brothers  and  friends,  hastened  to  obej'  the  summons. 
Our  hearts  were  torn  at  parting  with  them  and  our  dreams 
have  been  filled  with  visions  of  evil  come  upon  them. 
But  we  have  never  doubted  that  we  heard  Thy  voice 
aright,  and  we  have  never  swerved  from  our  determina- 
tion to  do  Thy  will,  even  though  we  drink  of  the  bitter 
waters  and  our  streets  are  filled  with  the  moans  of  those 
whose  loved  ones  have  perished  in  Thy  cause.  Thou 
doest  all  things  well,  and  we  come,  oh,  our  Father,  while 
our  lips  are  white  and  almost  dumb  with  the  horror  of 
the  tidings  that  have  reached  us,  and  all  the  more  awful 
because  they  are  vague  and  not  plain  and  open,  while 
our  hearts  are  wrung  and  torn  with  anguish  we  come  to 
say  again  to  Thee  that  Thou  doest  all  things  well,  and 
that  as  Thy  children  we  bow  to  Thy  will,  which  our  faith 
assures  us  is  loving  kind  toward  us,  although  Thy  clouds 
are  thick  about  us.  If  an}'  of  our  loved  ones  have  fallen 
in  death  thej'  are  beyond  our  prayers — our  hope  is  that 
ill  the  pious  fervor  and  courage  with  which  the.y  went 


god's  war.  sr{ 

forth  to  do  Thy  will  even  unto  death,  they  xviped  out 
from  the  book  of  Thy  renienibrauce  all  evidences  of  their 
sins  and  shortcomings.  And  oh,  most  just  God,  if  it  be 
sin  that  we  believe  that  this  is  so,  be  not  angry  with  us 
— for  we  do  believe  it!" 

Strive  ai  he  did,  perhaps,  the  old  man  could  not  re- 
strain an  almost  defiant  ring  to  his  voice  and  he  fairly 
trembled  as  a  fervent  "Amen !"  burst  from  the  people. 
His  tone  grew  more  subdued,  but  his  manner  was  no  less 
earnest  as  he  went  on  : 

"If  our  dear  ones  are  lying  stricken  with  wounds,  be 
with  them,  we  beseech  Thee.  Give  them  patience  under 
their  afflictions  and  bring  them  again  to  speedj'  health, 
that  the3'  may  live  nobler  lives  in  Thy  service.  And 
upon  these  gathered  here  together,  and  in  this  village, 
and  throughout  all  this  broad  land  who  are  sorrowing 
and  whose  hearts  are  bursting  with  grief  and  apprehen- 
sion—  upon  them  and  upon  us  we  pray  that  Thou  wilt 
look  in  pity  and  with  tender  love.  Lift  up  our  hearts 
and  heal  us  with  glad  tidings  of  the  safety  of  our  friends 
and  loved  ones  if  it  be  possible.  But  if  it  be  otherwise 
give  us  strength  to  bear  with  Christian  resignation  what- 
ever woe  Thy  love  shall  lay  upon  us. 

"Sinners  as  we  are,  weak  and  erring,  we  claim  our 
birthright;  we  are  Thy  children,  and  we  will  bless  Thy 
holy  name  forever!     All  our  trust  is  in  Thee!" 

There  was  a  firmer  beat  to  every  heart  when  the  old 
preacher  had  made  an  end  of  his  praj'er.  He  had  led  the 
people  up  and  placed  their  feet  upon  the  firm  rock.  They 
raised  their  heads  with  increased  courage  and  calujness. 
After  a  moment's  pause  the  judge  rose  and  by  force  of 
liabit,  it  may  be,  took  his  place  at  the  bench.  A  glance 
:it  his  face  was  a  confirmation  of  the  strength  the  preacher 
had  given. 

"My  friends,"  he  began  in  his  guarded  wa,v,  "we  have 
had  to-day  sad  news.  Sad,  first,  because  it  seems  to 
threaten  evil  to  our  beloved  country,  and  secondly,  be- 
cause it  portends  hurt  and  harm  to  those  who  have  gone 
from  among  us  to  fight  against  a  wicked  and  unholy 
attempt  to  destroy  the  republic.  I  confess  that  the  first 
impression  is  one  of  dismay  and  humiliation.     We   had 


84  god's  war. 

countod  on  something  different.  Notwithstanding  the 
boasts  of  the  Secessionists,  we  felt  hero  that  the  man- 
hood of  our  own  people  would  be  more  than  equal  to  the 
test  to  which  it  would  be  put.  Our  news  brings  us  deep 
chagrin.  The  Union  army  has  been  defeated;  and  re- 
port says  that  such  of  our  solditns  as  were  not  disabled 
fled  in  a  panic,  throwing  away  their  arms  with  a  shame- 
less desire  to  rid  themselves  of  all  that  would  impede 
their  flight.  This  is  bitter  news.  All  in  all  it  is  too 
early  yet  to  understand  its  full  signiticance,  perhaps. 

"It  may  excite  a  smile  if  I  should  say  to  j'ou  that  this 
news  has  suddenly  convinced  me  that  the  nation  has 
entered  upon  a  struggle  that  will  last  longer  and  be  much 
more  bloody  and  disastrous  than  I  had  anticipated.  We 
may  have  ignorantly  belittled  our  enemy.  "We  have  for- 
gotten that  the  Southern  people  are,  after  all,  bone  of  our 
bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh — Americans.  Then  let  us 
learn  from  this  news  that  we  must  gird  ourselves  and 
prepare  for  a  great  war. 

"I  have  no  fear  nor  doubt  as  to  the  result.  Our  cause 
is  God's  cause.  We  cannot  err  as  to  that.  And  we  must 
win.  The  manhood  of  those  who  went  from  our  midst 
a  few  weeks  ago  has  been  built  up  among  us,  and  we 
cannot  doubt  it.  The  recent  disaster  I  know  did  not 
come  about  through  the  cowardice  of  our  friends,  and 
when  we  remember  that  the  people  of  Clayton  are  like 
the  people  of  the  thousands  of  towns  throughout  the 
North  and  reflect  that  these  towns  sent  their  brave  men 
as  we  sent  ours  to  make  up  that  array,  how  can  we  resist 
the  conclusion  that  that  army  is  an  army  of  heroes  and 
not  of  cowards;  that  by  some  mismanagement  or  error 
likely  to  happen  and  naturally  to  be  expected  from  a 
people  almost  wholly  unused  to  war  our  army  was  thrown 
into  confusion,  and  thus  the  day  was  lost?  No,  no!  The 
Clayton  Volunteers  are  not  cowards.  The  men  in  the 
Union  army  are  not  cowards,  and  the  time  and  the  place 
will  serve  before  we  are  through  with  this  war  when  they 
will  demonstrate  that  they  are  not." 

The  suppressed  tire  that  was  burning  within  the  old 
judge  burst  forth  and  kindled  every  hearer. 

"We  must  win,  if  we  all  have  to  ealist!     Get  ready! 


god's  war.  85 

More  soldiers  will  be  needed!  Put  your  houses  in 
order,  as  I  will  mine,  to  go  if  the  need  comes.  I'm  an 
old  man,  but  not  too  old  to  fight  for  my  country  and 
against  the  accursed  institution  of  slavery ! 

"Let  our  women  be  strong.  They  are  the  super- 
structure upon  which  we  build,  after  all.  The  influence 
of  woman  is  the  most  potent  in  the  world  after  that  of 
God  Himself;  and  it  molds  men.  Let  them  not  yield  to 
the  fears  with  regard  to  our  friends  in  the  army  that 
have  naturally  come  upon  them.  Our  volunteers  may 
not  have  suffered  greatly,  although  I  know  thej'  were  in 
the  fight  if  they  could  get  there !  If  they  have  suffered 
our  women  must  give  us  the  example  of  heroic  fortitude 
and  endurance  with  which  woman  in  all  times  has  nerved 
the  heart  of  man  in  the  hour  of  need!" 

It  was  Sunday,  it  is  true,  and  the  inhabitants  of  the 
village  of  Clayton  were  strongly  religious,  but  they  sent 
up  such  a  cheer  after  the  judge's  speech,  of  which  I  have 
been  able  to  give  only  the  dry  husks,  as  rent  the  heavens. 

And  the  parson  joined  in. 

And  the  people  went  to  their  homes  strengthened  and 
encouraged,  and  put  their  houses  in  order  as  the  judge 
had  advised;  and  upon  the  first  opportunity  Clayton 
sent  more  of  her  strong  men  to  the  army. 

Now,  is  it  not  strange  that  while  Clayton  had  heard 
the  news  of  the  battle  of  Bull  Eun,  in  all  essentials  true 
in  outline  as  to  that  battle,  it  heard  it  precisely  one  week 
before  it  was  fought,  viz.  :  on  Sunday,  July  14,  1861,  the 
very  day  that  Corporal  Tom  made  such  a  gallant  de- 
fense of  Bartlett's  bridge?  Where  the  report  came  from 
or  how  it  originated  no  one  knew,  nor  does  any  one  know 
to  this  day. 

And  at  the  moment  that  Susie  was  drawing  such  com- 
fort and  strength  from  little  Dick,  as  she  strained  him  to 
her  heart,  Nat  was  wringing  Tom's  hand  aud  congratu- 
lating him  upon  the  brave  fight  he  had  made. 


86  god's  war. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

WHAT    THE    VAGABOKD    WINDS    HEARD. 

Early  in  the  evening  the  camp  was  a  babel  of  all  man- 
ner of  sounds,  -which  were  caught  ou  the  evening  winds 
and  softly  carried  away,  beyond  the  guards  and  the 
pickets,  out  into  that  vague,  mysterious  distance  in  the 
depths  of  which  the  enemy  lay,  grim  and  defiant.  Be- 
ginning at  the  rear  where  the  wagons  were,  with  the 
neighing  of  horses,  the  song  of  the  teamsters,  the  clank 
of  chains  and  the  rattle  of  wagons,  it  went  along  toward 
the  white  tents  and  bright  fires  where  the  soldiers  were, 
gathering  the  clinking  of  pots  and  pans,  the  bai'king  of 
an  occasional  dog,  the  hee-haw  of  a  mule,  the  squeaking 
of  a  fiddle,  the  snorting  blasts  blown  hy  a  practicing 
bugler,  the  laughter  of  careless  men  seated  in  their  tents 
or  lying  in  the  grass  of  the  parade  ground,  telling  stories, 
cracking  jokes  and  amusing  themselves  as  if  the3'  were 
on  a  frolic.  There  was  the  humming  of  men's  voices  to 
furnish  the  body  to  which  the  other  sounds  were  a  garn- 
ishment. Occasionally  the  dull  thump  of  horses'  hoofs, 
accompanied  by  the  rattling  of  harness  and  a  heavy 
rumbling  gave  notice  that  batteries  of  artillery  were 
being  shifted  about  from  one  part  of  the  field  to  the 
other;  and  the  whistling  of  locomotives,  subdued  and 
mufSed  by  the  distance  which  scarcely  permitted  the 
faintest  echo  of  the  roar  of  railway  trains,  testified  that 
fresh  troops  and  supplies  were  reaching  the  front.  A 
ragged  volley  of  cheers  once  in  awhile  canje  floating  up 
from  the  rear  to  say  that  a  new  regiment,  very  much 
fatigued  but  full  of  enthusiasm,  was  on  hand  to  share  the 
fortunes  of  the  monow.  The  camp  guards  were  kept 
busy  to  restrain  the  wandering  propensities  of  the  men, 
and  the  sharp  "Halt!  halt!"  fell  u])on  the  ear  with  a  flat 


god's  war.  87 

lack  of  resonance  like  the  patter  of  heavy,  detached  rain 
drops  upon  the  leaves  that  herald  the  coming  of  a  sudden 
summer  shower.  The  sutler's  shops  were  thronged  with 
laughing,  talkative  men  in  shabbj-,  carelessly  worn  uni- 
forms, who  paid  three  prices  for  little  luxuries  wholly 
unnecessary,  if  not  absolutely  harmful,  with  the  pro- 
verbial recklessness  of  soldiers.  Bursts  of  laughter  came 
from  detached  groups  sitting  apart  in  the  darkness,  and 
sometimes  seriously  talking  heroes  in  groups  of  two  or 
thi'ee  might  have  been  stumbled  upon,  grave  and  low 
voiced,  trading  messages  for  loved  ones  at  home,  steadily 
and  manfully  looking  the  morrow  with  all  its  chances  in 
the  eye. 

At  headquarters  the  tents  were  luminous,  and  seemed 
from  a  short  distance  like  filmy  creations  of  palpitating 
light  held  to  the  earth  mysteriously  by  black  lines  which 
were  of  spider-web  delicacy  or  broader  and  darker  as  they 
happened  to  be  ropes  or  poles.  A  line  of  horses  saddled 
and  bridled  stood  in  front  of  the  long  row  of  tents  and 
active  orderlies  summoned  by  short,  sharp  calls  were 
constantly  darting  into  the  glowing  cones  and  out  again 
and  mounting  steeds  and  plunging  off  into  the  darkness 
with  haste  and  a  free  rein.  And  as  they  went  they  also 
momentarily  came;  dismounting  with  much  jingling  of 
spurs  and  clanking  of  sabers  to  present  their  receipts  or 
replies;  so  that  the  number  was  never  diminished. 
Within  the  tents  anxious  brains  were  puzzling  over  prob- 
lems connected  with  the  disposition  of  regiments  and 
batteries  and  brigades  and  divisions  and,  alas,  ambu- 
lances and  hospital  tents;  and  coming  to  conclusions 
which  were  rapidly  being  crystallized  into  words  and 
given  to  waiting  staff  officers  and  clerks  to  be  put  into 
orders ;  and  the  pen  scratched  wearily  the  whole  night 
through  in  behalf  of  the  sword — the  master  serving  the 
servant.. 

And  there  was  one  brain  that  knew  no  rest  and  one 
head  that  was  filled  with  the  anxiety  of  responsibility  in 
the  ^jremises,  where  thousands  of  lives  and  who  could 
tell?  it  might  be  the  destiuies  of  millions  of  people  de- 
pended upon  his  wisdom  and  courage  and  skill!  And  of 
the  thousands  of  men  this  one  made  the  least  noise! 


88  god's  war. 

And  all  at  once,  added  to  the  other  turmoil,  came  first 
the  silvery  tone  of  a  solitary  bugle  and  then  the  ringing 
blasts  from  hundreds,  and  then  the  tap,  tap  of  the  drums 
preceding  the  rattling  thunder  of  tattoo.  Before  the 
reverberations  had  died  out  a  new  apparent  confusion 
arose  as  thousands  of  men  in  company  formation  were, 
each  for  himself,  answering  "here!"  to  the  loud  mo- 
notonous calling  of  the  roll.  And  now  the  noise  was  at  its 
height. 

And  the  evening  wind  still  carried  it  out  beyond  the 
guards  and  the  pickets  till  it  reached  the  lowering  front 
of  that  vague  mystery  behind  which  the  enemy  lay,  and 
there  it  halted  and  temporized  and  faded  away  into  the 
dewy  darkness  like  a  vaporing  bully  who  suddenly  col- 
lapses when  confronted  by  the  foe  he  has  been  so  noisily 
seeking. 

Ah !  there  were  secrets  behind  that  vagueness  Avhose 
mystery  was  enough  to  appal  something  stouter  hearted 
and  stronger  limbed  than  a  wandering  babel  of  noise 
borne  upon  the  vagabond  winds  of  the  stealthy,  shadowy 
night!" 

They  came  near  to  appalling  Tom  himself  as  he  prowled 
noiselessly  along  the  front  of  the  foe,  vainly  trying  to 
pierce  the  shades  and  discover  something.  He  had  no 
business  there  and  went  in  pursuance  of  an  idle  inclina- 
tion, which  he  could  not  have  explained  had  he  been 
summoned  to  do  so.  A  friend  in  charge  of  a  picket  post 
had  yielded  to  his  importunities  and,  giving  him  the 
countersign,  had  allowed  him  to  go  beyond  the  lines. 

For  some  time  Tom  saw  nothing  to  reward  him  as  he 
crept  up  and  down  in  front  of  the  enemy,  but  he  was  at 
least  away  from  the  annoyances  of  camp,  and  his  thoughts 
were  a  curious  jumble,  in  which  Margaret  Henderson  and 
the  enemy,  whose  position  he  was  trying  to  scan,  and 
the  dread  probabilities  of  the  morrow,  with  an  occasional 
I'ecollection  of  how  poor  Hilraan  looked  lying  dead  in  the 
shebang;  and  Margaret  again,  and  Miles  Bancroft,  with 
his  distorted  face  and  wild,  passionate  pleadings  on  that 
April  afternoon,  and  the  trend  of  the  slope  off  to  the 
right  toward  the  row  of  low  bushy  trees  along  the  coun- 
try lane,  beyond  which  was  an  expanse  jof  dense,  impene- 


GOD^S   WAR.  80 

trable  thicket,  and  a  thousand  otber  tbings  ^^ere  strangely 
intermingled.  And  he  began  to  chide  himself  musingly 
that  this  was  so,  and  that  he  was  not  improving  his  op- 
portunities, which,  he  thought,  showed  that  he  lacked 
balance  and  would  never  amount  to  an3'thing,  when  from 
the  top  of  the  slope  came  a  sharp  click  like  the  sound 
made  when  a  shovel  strikes  a  pebble. 

At  once  his  senses  were  all  alive,  and  while  Margaret 
Henderson's  face  still  remained  with  him  and  floated 
between  him  and  his  thoughts,  as  it  always  did,  still  his 
faculties  had  settled  down  to  one  task  and  that  was  in- 
dicated by  the  sound  he  had  heard. 

He  dropped  flat  upon  the  sward  and  listened.  By 
degrees  he  got  his  auricular  bearings  and  could  distin- 
guish the  sound  of  men  digging.  Their  low  tones  came 
to  him  faintly  at  times,  but  he  was  not  able  to  catch  their 
words.  As  his  eye  grew  accustomed  to  the  sky  line  he 
perceived  what  seemed  to  be  a  row  of  bushes  like  the 
currant  and  gooseberry  bushes  in  a  country  garden — not 
very  extensive,  perhaps  fifty  yards  along  the  top  of  the 
slope,  and  it  was  from  this  row  of  bushes  apparently  that 
the  sound  of  digging  and  of  men's  voices  came.  The 
shifting  of  the  clouds  for  an  instant  enabled  him  to  see 
a  steady  dropping  of  something  upon  the  bushes  like 
the  alighting  of  a  wavering  flight  of  birds.  Then  he 
knew  what  it  was.  They  were  constructing  an  earth- 
work ! 

A  group  of  men — soldiers — passed  him  with  measured 
tread,  going  toward  the  Union  camp.  He  soon  heard 
them,  a  short  distance  below  him,  exchanging  challenge 
and  reply.  It  was  the  relief  picket  guard!  He  was 
inside  the  enemy's  lines! 

He  lay  quietly  for  a  moment  after  making  this  dis- 
cover}', holding  his  breath  as  if  to  see  what  would  hap- 
pen; for  the  revelation  came  upon  him  so  like  a  thunder- 
clap that  it  seemed  as  if  the  attention  of  the  rebels  so 
near  him  must  be  attracted  by  it.  Then  he  began  to  feel 
safer. 

"Well,  since  I  am  here  I  might  as  well  see  what  I  can. 
Those  fellows  are  so  busy  they  won't  be  apt  to  notice  me. 
I'll  slip  off  to  the  right  here  and  see  how  far   this  thing 


00  GOD'S  WAR. 

goes  in  that  direction.  I  can  >ee  the  end  of  it  to  the 
loft- — only  it  seems — yes,  it  rounds  off  with  the  hill 
toward  the  rebel  camp.     Now  for  the  right!" 

Everything  favored  him  and  he  soon  gained  the  right 
rear  of  the  earthwork.  As  he  lay  there  a  battery  of  ar- 
tillery came  up  at  a  slow  walk,  so  close  to  him  that  it 
seemed  as  though  the  wheels  almost  grazed  his  cheek. 
The  guns  were  wheeled  into  the  space  behind  the  earth- 
work. 

"Ah!"  said  Tom  softly.  "A  battery!  Right  in  front 
of  our  regiment  too!  Well,  if  they  knock  the  head  off 
of  mo  to-morrow — if  I  get  back  to-night,  by  George! — I 
will  know  what  hit  me  anyhow!  There's  some  satisfac- 
tion in  knowing  what  disease  you  die  of." 

He  lay  watching  the  work  for  some  little  time,  taking 
in  all  the  points  the  darkness  would  let  him  gain — for 
the  men  were  working  without  lights.  Then  he  turned 
and  took  such  survey  as  he  could  of  the  ground  betw'een 
the  battery  and  the  spot  where  his  regiment  lay.  Then 
he  turned  again  to  watch  the  work  at  the  battery. 

"They'll  give  us  the  very  devil  to-morrow,  and  we've 
no  sign  of  a  protection — all  smooth  as  a  bare  floor!  I 
wonder  if  I  can  get  back  aagin?  I  must  try  it.  The 
best  way,  I  reckon,  will  be  to  slip  along  the  line  of  trees 
by  the  lane. ' ' 

The  trees  were  dwarfs,  quite  close  together,  with  bushes 
and  weeds  in  the  interstices.  Tom  thought  he  had  es- 
caped— had  passed  the  picket  line  in  safety — when  he 
was  suddenly  brought  to  a  dead  standstill  with  his  heart 
in  his  throat  by  the  apparition  of  a  man  with  his  gun  at 
a  "ready"  standing  within  ten  feet  of  him.  Where  had 
he  come  from?     Out  of  the  ground? 

However,  it  made  no  difference  where  he  came  from. 

There  he  was,  and  he  was  evidently  looking  straight  at 
Tom  and  prepared  to  shoot,  although  it  was  so  dark  just 
at  the  moment  that  it  Avas  hard  to  saj'  which  way  he  was 
looking. 

Tom  stood  motionless. 

"Well,"  said  the  man  finally,  solving  Tom's  doubt, 
"why  don't  you  come  on?" 

"'Cause  ye  don't  hold  ye'rweepon  to  suit  me,"replied 


GOD'S   WAR.  91 

Tom  instantly.  "Ye  don't  think  I'm  a-gwiue  to  come  on 
when  .ve'r  holclin'  yer  gun  that  a-way,  do  ye?  It  looks 
too  almighty  liable!' 

The  sentry  replied  with  a  low  laugh. 

"What'  d'ye  want  down  here,  anyhow?" 

"The  captain  sent  me.  He  thought  he  saw  something 
a-movin'  down  by  the  creek  bridge  an'  he  told  me  to  go 
down  an'  see  what  it  war.  Says  I,  'See  here,  captain, 
there's  them  pickets  down  thar.  Why  don't  you  send 
them?*  'Why,  they  can't  leave  their  posts,'  says  he. 
You're  a  mighty  long  time  a-larnin'  about  this  war  busi- 
ness,' sa3's  he." 

The  man  laughed  softly  again. 

"He  ruther  had  ye  thar,  didn't  he?" 

"Yes!  Well,  ye  see  I  don't  take  no  pride  in  this 
soldier  business  anyhow.  'Taint  in  my  line,  ye  see.  So 
I  don't  care  so  much  about  the  fine  pints."  And  Tom 
coolly  seated  himself  on  a  large  stone  back  in  the  shadow 
of  the  overhanging  boughs.  "But  I  reckon  I've  got  to 
larn  some  of  it.  I've  gone  into  this  thing  for  business 
till  we  clean  out  these  everlastin'  abolitionists  and  nigger 
thieves.  Soon's  we  do  that  I'm  a-gwine  to  quit.  But 
I  jist  naturally  hate  a  nigger  thief!" 

"So  do  I." 

"You  bet!  I'm  ready  to  stay  till  we  clean  'em  all  out. 
Then  I'm  done  soldiering.  I  hain't  got  no  taste  for  to 
be  ordered  around  by  no  high-steppin'  rooster  with 
grimcracks  onto  him  till  he  looks  like  a  ringmaster  into 
a  circus. 

"'Tis  curus,  hain't  it?" 

"Lord  how  they're  heads  is  swelled!" 

"That's  so!" 

"Now  my  notion  of  life's  different.  All  I  want  is  some 
good  dogs,  and  niggers  to  raise  the  crop,  an'  I  kin  super- 
intend it,  ye  know.  Then  in  the  fall  I  want  jist  a  plumb 
month  a-huntin'  up  on  Black  Water — deer  and  bear,  ye 
know.  Plenty  o'  hog  an'  hominy,  ye  know,  an'  a  barrel 
o'  hard  cider  in  the  cellar!     Hey?" 

"Now  that's  solid  comfort,  that  is!" 

"Course  it  is.  'Taint  s'much  glory  an'  big  talk  as 
this,  but  it's  a  powerful  sight  more  fillin',  an'  comfort- 
able." 


93  r,OD'5^   WAR. 

"You  bet  it  is.  Do  you  go  every  year  up  to  Black 
Water?" 

"Been  goin'  tbere  for  the  last  five  year." 

"Kill  anything?" 

"Kill  anything?  Well  I  should  say  so.  Deer  and 
bear.  Well,  last  fall  I  had  the  biggest  time  with  a  bear. 
Gimme  a  chaw  tobacker,  will  ye?  Thank  ye — that's  the 
kind  I  like.  Regular  old  original  nat'ral  leaf.  No 
molasses  to  make  ye  sick  at  the  stomach.  Well,  sir,  ye 
never  saw  a  feller  in  a  worse  fix  nor  I  was.  It  was  just 
about  a  mile  back  from  Suggses  clearin'.  S&y,  do  ye 
hear  anything  down  that  a-way?" 

"'Pears  like  I  did  hear  something!" 

"Oh,  well,  maybe  its  a  hog.  Let  me  know  if  ye  hear 
it  agin.  Well,  ye  see,  the  dogs  set  up  the  everlastinest 
yelpin'  all  at  oncet,  an'  it  was  to'rds  evenin'  an'  I  had 
been  trampin'  over  the  mountains  all  day  an'  I  was 
right  smart  tired,  ye  see.  However,  I  know'd  by  the 
noise  they  was  a-makiu'  iLat — ye  don't  see  nothin'more, 
do  ye?" 

"Seems  like  it's  movin'down  toward  the  Yanks,  now." 

"I'll  bet  a  red  apple  it's  a  hog.  I  didn't  enlist  to 
hunt  no  hogs.  Well,  as  I  was  sayin',"  continued  Tom, 
crossing  his  legs  comfortably  and  thanking  his  luckj' 
stars  that  in  the  thick  gloom  made  by  the  overhanging 
boughs  blue  could  not  be  distinguished  from  gray,  "as  I 
was  sayiu',  I  started  over  to  where  the  dogs  was,  and 
they  was  just  a-barkin'  their  ears  off.  I  give  j-e  roy 
word  I  never  heerd  dogs  bark  like  that  before!  By  the 
way,  I'm  sorry  I  didn't  bring  ray  applejack  down  with 
me.  I've  got  a  bottle  of  the  kind  that'd  make  yer  hair 
curl." 

"Nevermind,  I've  got  some  whisky  here,"  and  the 
guileless  sentry  swung  his  canteen  around  to  the  front. 
"It's  the  genuine  article — some  of  that  old  Monongahela 
whisky." 

"Sorry,  and  I'm  much  obliged,  but  I  can't  never  drink 
none  o'  that  Pittsburg  whisky.  Don't  seem  to  have  the 
awakening'  sperit  about  it.  D'ye  ever  notice  it?  Never 
has  no  effect  but  ter  give  me  a  misery  in  my  stomach. 
D'ye  see  anything  more  o'  that  hog?"     » 


god's  war.  93 

"Derued  ef  I  don't  believe  it's  a-coinin'  up  this  way!" 
And  the  sentry  peered  earnestly  down  the  lane. 

"Well,  I  reckon  I'd  better  go  on  down  an'  see  what  it 
is.     How  far  is  it  off?" 

"Not  naore'n  a  hundred  yards,  I  jedge  by  the  noise." 
"Well,  I'll  go  an'  see,  ef  it's  a  hog  I'll  give  ye  a  hind 
quarter." 

"Goin'  without  a  gun?" 
"Oh,  I  reckon  I  won't  need  none." 
"Ye   might." 

"Yes,  that's  so.  'Spose  ye  lend  rae  your'u.  I'll  give 
it  to  ye  when  I  come  back,  an'  then  I'll  tell  ye  the 
rest  of  that  bear  story.  By  Gemini!  It  war  the 
tightest  place  ever  I  war  in!  You  stand  right  here 
and  don't  ye  move  onless  ye  hear  me  holler  for  help. 
Then  you  come  a-bilin',  for  ye  kin  bet  I  don't  never 
holler  'less  I  got  something  to  holler  fer." 

The  sentry  gave  up  his  gun  very  contentedly,  and  as 
Tom  sauntered  off  down  the  lane  he  sat  down  on  the  rock 
and  solaced  himself  with  a  generous  draught  of  his 
Monongahela  whisky. 

After  proceeding  a  hundred  yards  or  so  Tom  found  a 
convenient  opening  in  the  shrubbery  and  slipped  through 
to  the  side  nest  his  own  camp.  Not  till  then  did  he  draw 
a  free  breath,  which  he  made  good  use  of  in  a  swift  run 
till  he  got  near  the  Union  lines.  Then,  striking  off  to 
the  right,  he  found  the  place  whence  he  had  gone  forth, 
and  in  a  half-hour  he  reached  his  own  company  street. 
Captain  Bancroft  was  standing  in  the  tent  door. 
"Hello,  Tom!  Is  that  you?" 
"Yes." 

"You  were  reported  for  absence  without  leave  at  roll 
call  to-night." 

"Yes.  I  bad  other  fish  to  fry,"  replied  Tom  imper- 
turbably. 

"What  are  you  doing  with  that  gun?" 
"I'm  going  to  take  it  to  my  tent.     Good-night." 
"Warm  work  to-morrow,  Tom!" 

"Warmer  than  some  of  the  boys  think  for,  in  my 
opinion." 

"I'm  afraid  so.     Good-night." 


94  god's  war. 

Nat  loomed  up. 

"Where  in  the  workl  have  you  been,  Tom?" 

"Over  in  tlie  enemy's  lines," 

"Where?" 

"In  the  rebel's  camp." 

"Where'd  you  get  that  gun?" 

"Borrowed  it  from  a  rebel  picket!"  And  then  he  told 
his  adventure  briefly. 

"Well,  you  must  *a  been  born  to  be  hung,  for  I'm 
blest  if  I  believe  they'll  ever  shoot  you!" 

"Not  if  mj'  legs  hold  out." 

"No,  nor  you  won't  run  away,  either!" 

It  was  two  hours  after  this  before  Tom  got  to  sleep. 
He  lay  awake  thinking,  not  of  the  events  of  the  evening, 
but  of  Margaret  Henderson  and  of  what  might  happen 
to-morrow.  And  the  boy's  heart  softened  and  was  filled 
with  pure  and  gentle  aspirations :  and  they  followed  him 
in  his  sleep  and  colored  his  dreams. 


god's  war.  95 


CHAPTER  X. 

THE    FIRES    ARE    LIGHTED. 

What  is  the  matter  -with  John  Wesley  Hammond,  the 
mild  .voung  chaplain,  that  he  quits  his  knees  at  the  side 
of  the  dying  every  now  and  then  and  seizes  a  musket  to 
fight  like  a  tiead  incarnate?  Is  it  not  enough  that  lay- 
men must  stain  their  hands  Avith  their  brother's  blood? 
Shall  God's  minister  also  maim  and  mutilate  and  perhaps 
send  his  fellow-man  all  unrepentant  and  unforgiven 
before  the  dread  bar  of  a  just  judge?  Has  he  not  enough 
to  do  to  pray  for  those  who  are  passing  so  swiftly  from 
the  scenes  of  their  weakness  and  transgressions? 

But  his  face  shines  with  a  sort  of  exaltation,  and  if  any 
man  there  is  unconscious  of  danger  it  is  the  soft-mannered 
young  preacher.  And  his  lips  move,  and  he  mutters. 
What  is  this  he  is  saying  to  himself? 

"Shall  I  not  do  my  part?  Is  not  this  a  holy  war?  Is 
it  not  God's  battle?  Shall  the  bondman  stretch  out  his 
shackles  to  me  in  entreaty  and  shall  I  forbear  to  strike 
them  off?  I  bear  you  no  personal  ill-will,  poor,  mis- 
guided creatures!  But  He  has  written  it  that  through 
your  destruction  He  will  work  His  awful  will!  Yes — ■ 
yes — through  blood  and  groans  and  sufferings!  Ay! 
Ay!     Andrew  McQuirk,  I  am  with  you!" 

"Ay,  that  you  are  John,  Hammond!  But  this  is  not 
your  work.  You've  work  there  with  the  poor  souls  that 
need  your  prayers  before  they  meet  their  God,  and  it's 
with  them  that  you  have  your  place!  It  is  appointed  to 
each  man,  his  place;  and  in  His  providence  I  am  put 
here  to  light  and  you  are  ordered  thereto  pray — although 
I  know  that  it  would  be  hard  for  me,  too,  to  be  heit* 
without  lifting  a  hand  against  these  sous  of  Belial!  But 
go  you  to  your  woi'k, " 


06  god's  war. 

And  the  j'oung  mau  accepts  the  admonition  of  his 
elder  brother  and  goes  back  to  try  to  faithfully  do  his 
sad  duty.  And  he  does  it  faithfully;  and  bravely,  too. 
And  it  would  seem  that  if  all  the  terrors  of  hell  were  to 
suddenly  confront  him  he  would  not  be  disma^'ed,  so 
cool  and  calm  is  he  in  all  this  roar  and  din  of  battle — 
with  spouting  blood  and  quivering  wounds  and  shriek 
and  groan  and  curse  of  agonized  and  dying  men.  He 
tries  to  do  his  appointed  work,  but  as  the  stress  of  the 
battle  grows  more  severe,  he  leaves  his  knees  and  con- 
tinues his  prayer  unconsciously  as  he  crushes  the  skulls 
of  the  cannoneers  and  breaks  their  limbs  and  defaces 
God's  image  with  a  zeal  that  burns  like  a  fever. 

The  air  seems  filled  with  singing  musket  balls  and 
booming  round  shot  aud  screaming  shells,  flying  as  if 
from  a  devil's  hand,  to  tear  and  rend  and  kill.  The 
grass  is  splashed  and  dyed  with  blood,  and  the  red  drops 
are  spattered  on  the  stems  and  limbs  of  trees  where, 
sometimes,  fragments  of  human  flesh  still  palpitating 
clung  as  if  they  were  holding  fast  to  life.  Men  are  rush- 
ing to  aud  fro,  washed  by  the  waves  of  the  conflict  now 
high  now  low ;  and  they  shout  and  yell,  some  with  horri- 
ble blasphemy  and  some  with  unintelligible  roaring 
which  voices  no  words,  but  is  as  the  cry  of  a  wild  beast 
or  a  maniac.  Never  before  having  witnessed  such  a 
scene  or  felt  such  influences  they  seem  like  creatui-es 
born  to  ifc  aud  without  ever  having  known  anything  else. 

In  the  midst  of  it  all  ever  and  ever  there  comes  to 
them  a  glimpse  of  smiling  orchards  aud  waving  wheat 
fields  shimmering  on  the  softened  summer-glare;  and 
toddling  children  plucking  flowers  and  laughing  in  glee 
as  the  fleecy  thistledown  sails  upon  the  scented  air  out 
of  reach  of  chubby  outstretched  hands.  Or  of  peaceful, 
gently  gliding  brooks  with  shoals  of  swift-darting  min- 
nows and  borders  of  waving,  purple-blossomed  flags, 
where  they  have  fished  and  waded  on  summer  afternoons 
that  were  so  long  and  dreamy  titer  seemed  a  lifetime 
steeped  in  golden  sunshine.  And  how  strange  that 
memory  should  bring  back  at  such  a  time  the  visions 
which  their  childhood  saw  when  they   |ay  prone  upon 


GOD'S   WAR.  97 

tbeii"  backs  watching  the  wool-white  clouds  slowly  float- 
ing; beneath  tlie  blue  sky! 

Is  it  not  a  strange  thing  that  while  men  are  engaged 
in  the  awful  business  of  killing  each  other  and  the  wild 
battle  is  swirling  about  them  and  their  every  sense  seems 
to  be  quickened  to  the  most  perfect  working  by  the  fierce, 
bloody  struggle  in  which  they  are  engaged — is  it  not  a 
strange  thing  that  in  men's  minds  at  such  a  moment  as 
this  the  picture  of  carnage  is  photographed  upon  a  back- 
ground of  humble,  homely,  tender  recollections  of  child- 
hood scenes. 

In  the  death-throe  the  end  of  life  clasps  hands  with  the 
beginning,  and  in  what  is  or  may  be  the  approach  to  the 
end  Death  seems  to  woo  in  the  guise  of  childhood !  It 
is  a  rosy-cheeked  boy  who  stands  before  the  victim  and 
conjures  him  with  spells  of  sunlight  filtering  through 
waving  trees;  and  nestling  groups  of  flowers;  and  hum- 
ming bees;  and  glancing  birds;  and  balmy  rest  in  the 
tall  grass. 

Does  it  not  seem  perfectly  natural  and  logical  to  every 
man  who  has  passed  through  battle  that  the  great  pure- 
hearted  Confederate,  Jackson,  should  have  murmured 
the  wish  of  a  child,  as  his  life-blood  ebbed  away — "Let 
us  cross  the  river  and  rest  in  the  shade  of  the  trees?" 
The  leaden  ball  smote  the  silver  cord  and  the  blessed 
mercy  of  heaven  struck  down  the  grim  warrior  as  a  mask 
is  dropped  off,  and  took  to  its  loving  bosom  the  simple 
happy  innocent  tired  child,  playing  among  the  flowers 
that  bordered  the  rippling  waters,  and  gave  it  rest  be- 
neath the  shade  of  the  trees! 

It  seemed  to  Tom  that  he  had  not  been  asleep  more 
than  a  moment  when  the  bugle  sounded  the  reveille  and 
with  his  comrades  he  hastily  tumbled  out  into  the  com- 
pany street  to  answer  to  his  name  at  rollcall  amid  the 
rattling  of  the  drums.  He  regretted,  however,  that  his 
slumber  had  been  long  enough  and  sound  enough  to 
dispel  the  gentle,  tender  visions  which  filled  his  imagina- 
tion when  he  fell  asleep;  and  that  in  their  stead  came 
the  cold,  recognition  of  the  ugly  realities  that  he  must 
face,  and  that  would  not  down.     His   heart  beat   with 


98  GOD'S   WAR. 

great  leaps  and  bounds,  almost  painfully;  and  a  feelinj? 
of  shivering  excitement  took  such  possession  of  him  that 
lie  glanced  furtively  at  his  comrades  to  see  whether  thc\' 
had  perceived  it  and  were  inclined  to  set  it  down  to 
timidity.  He  struggled  with  it  while  he  waited  for  his 
coffee  which  was  hastily  preparing,  and  was  annoyed  to 
Und  that  the  hot  stimulant  had  not  driven  it  away.  He 
knew  he  was  not  a  coward — at  least  he  thought  he  knew 
he  was  not — and  yet  why  should  he  shiver  and  why 
should  his  teeth  chatter  till  he  was  fain  to  close  them 
tightly  to  stop  their  noise?  No,  he  wasn't  a  coward- 
he  would  see  this  thing  through,  without  disgrace, 
though  he  died  for  it! 

But  it  was  very  unpleasant.  He  was  much  tempted, 
when  one  of  his  comrades,  already  half-drunk,  offered 
him  a  pull  at  a  canteen  filled  with  whisky;  but  he  re- 
sisted and  shook  his  head  muteb',  while  the  thought — ■ 
"I'll  not  be  indebted  to  whisky  for  any  courage  I  may 
be  able  to  show  to-day— if  I  show  any  at  all,  by  George! 
I  don't  know  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  me!" 

In  an  uuconceivably  short  space  of  time  the  regiment 
was.under  arms  and  in  position;  the  men  standing  "at 
ease"  but  keeping  their  alignment.  They  were  waiting 
for  orders  to  move  forward  to  attack  the  slope  up  which 
Tom  had  crawled,  Avith  what  had  seemed  to  be  such 
foolish  and  useless  daring,  the  night  before.  The  men 
saw  with  natural  murmurs  of  astonishment  the  earthwork 
which  our  hero  had  inspected.  And  Tom  was  surprised, 
also,  to  observe  that  a  second  earthwork — something  a 
trifle  better  than  a  line  of  mere  rifle-pits — had  been 
thrown  up  during  the  night,  about  an  eighth  of  a  mile 
below  the  battery,  which,  it  will  be  remembered,  crowned 
the  gently  sloping  hill.  The  new  work  on  the  right 
rested  on  the  lane  (beyond  which  was  the  impenetrable 
thicket)  separated  from  it  by  the  narrow  width  of  a  small 
pond ;  but  to  the  left  it  swept  clear  around  the  knoll, 
lapping  over  the  left  of  the  earthwork  in  which  the  bat- 
tery was  stationed,  a  considerable  distance. 

"They  must  have  worked  mighty  lively  after  I  left  to 
get  that  done,"  said  Tom.  "I  s'pose  we've  got  to  charge 
that  thing — and  with  that   battery  behin^d   them   we'll 


god's  war.  99 

have  a  healthy  job  of  it.     Well,  I  suppose  it's  got  to  be 
done — but  I  know    of  a  half-dozen    things    I'd    rather 

do!" 

Captain  Miles  Bancroft  stood  at  the  head  of  the  com- 
pany, calm  and  collected,  but  paler  than  usual.  He 
called  Tom  to  him  and  stepping  aside,  in  front  of  his 
men,  he  took  him  by  the  hand. 

"Tom,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  "I  don't  think  I'm 
superstitious  nor  cowardly,  but  it  is  only  wise  to  take  a 
little  thought  for  the  future.  Somehow  I  have  a  sort  of 
a  feeling  that  I  won't  get  through  this  day's  work  with- 
out getting  hurt  in  some  way.  It  may  be  a  foolish 
notion.  I  don't  believe  in  presentiments.  But  still, 
you  know,  we  can't  tell  what  may  happen.  If  anything 
does  happen  to  me,  Tom,  if  I  get  killed  or  mortally  hurt, 
I  mean,  I  want  you  to  promise  me,"  and  his  grasp  tight- 
ened on  Tom's  hand,  "I  want  you  to  promise  me  that 
you  will  tell  Miss  Henderson  that  my  last  thought  was  of 
her— for  it  will  be ! " 

Tom  grew  paler,  and  in  spite  of  all  his  efforts  to  look 
Miles  in  the  eye,  he  could  not. 

"I  hope  you  won't  get  hurt " 

"I  know  you  do — but  I  may.  I  have  had  no  word 
from  her  since  we  left  home — but  I  have  loved  her  more 
since  then  than  I  ever  dreamed  that  I  could  love  anybody 
— and — and — I  feel  sure  somehow  that  she  loves  me — 
though  she  never  told  me  so!" 

Why  should  the  man  press  the  boy  so?  Couldn't  he 
see  that  he,  too,  loved  her?  Or  did  he  think  that  it  was 
a  mere  foolish  boy's  love,  not  worthy  to  be  considered 
like  a  man's  love,  at  such  a  time? 

For  an  instant   the  blood  had  rushed  to  Tom's  cheek 
and  his  eyes   had  met  Bancroft's,  almost  fiercely.     But 
in  that  look  he  read  such  sadness,  such  unhappiness,  that 
he  looked  away  again. 
"Will  you  promise?" 

A  pressure  of  the  hand  and  a  sign  of  assent  with  the 
head  was  the  response;  and  loosening  his  clasp  Tom 
went  slowly  back  to  his  place,  with  his  eyes  still  bent  o.i 
the  ground.  Miles  looked  after  him  sadly  and  made  ;is 
if  he  Avould  follow  him  to  say  something  further,  but  he 
checked  himself  and  resumed  his  post. 


100  god's  war. 

"Captain  Bancroft,  we  are  to  charge  the  works  in  front 
of  us!  The  signal  Avill  be  the  firing  of  one  gun  from 
Battery  *B'  on  the  hill  behind  the  second  brigade!" 

And  the  adjutant  rode  on  down  the  line  to  repeat  the 
order. 

Desultory  firing  was  going  on  among  the  skirmishers 
all  along  the  line.  Occasionally  a  sharp  volley,  as  if 
from  a  platoon  or  companj-  was  heard.  At  which  the 
men  would  straighten  themselves  up  and  grow  visibly 
more  excited.  And  still  the  battle  did  not  begin.  The 
two  armies  were  getting  their  bearings.  The  wait  was 
a  long  cue,  and  a  cruel  trial  to  inexperienced  soldiers. 

The  sound  of  galloping  horses  came  from  the  left  and 
down  the  line  the  commanding  general  was  seen  coming, 
surrounded  by  his  staff  antl  followed  by  his  escort.  The 
men  broke  into  a  cheer  as  they  took  courage  from  his 
infectious  calmness  at  such  a  trying  moment,  to  which 
he  responded  with  uncovered  head. 

A  rapid  exchange  of  shots  on  the  skirmish  line  im- 
mediately in  front  of  the  regiment  made  the  breath  come 
quicker  and  the  heart  beat  faster,  and  the  men  involun- 
tirily  grasped  their  jiieces  and  sought  the  mutual  strength 
of  the  elbow-touch.  But  the  little  spat  was  soon  over, 
and  all  was  silent  again  in  that  part  of  the  field. 

Presently  a  group  of  men  came  slowly  back.  As  they 
drew  near  it  was  seen  that  on  a  stretcher  made  by  fasten- 
ing the  sides  of  a  blanket  to  muskets,  they  were  carrying 
the  body  of  a  man.  They  passed  Company  "A"  and 
then  it  was  seen  that  the  man  was  dead;  with  a  hole  in 
his  forehead  red  and  blue  about  the  edges,  where  a 
musket-ball  had  entered  and  let  out  his  life.  A  shudder 
went  through  the  spectators, 

Tom  turned  deathly  sick  and  would  have  fallen  but  for 
a  tremendous  exercise  of  his  will  of  which  he  was  not 
conscious.  He  was  in  an  agony  of  shame  and  humilia- 
tion, for  he  said  to  himself: 

"My  God!  laui  a  coward  Oh,  if  the  earth  would  only 
open  and  swallow  me  up." 

"Why,  Tom  Bailey!  You're  scarej^ll"  exclaimed 
Suead,  a  big,  beefy  fellow,  whose  cheeks   glowed   with 


GOD'S   WAR.  101 

unimpaired   color,     Tom   threw   up   his    head   quickly. 

"Scared!"  cried  Nat  of  whose  presence  Tom  was  not 
aware  till  he  spoke.  And  how  cheering  to  hear  his  voice. 
"Scared!  Why  if  you  was  scared  half  as  bad  as  Tom  (m- 
me  either,  for  that  matter,  you'd  run  like  the  devil  was 
after  you ! ' ' 

The  men  laughed  at  the  sally. 

"Of  course  he's  scared!"  continued  Nat.  "It  stands 
him  in  hand  to  be  scared.  He'd  be  a  thunderiu'  fool  if 
he  wasn't!  But  you'll  get  your  elegant  sufficiency  of 
fighting  to-day  if  you'll  only  stick  to  Tom  Bailey,  Mr. 
Snead!" 

Boom! 

"Attention!  Shoulder  arms!  Steady  there!  Forward, 
march!  Steady  now — don't  run  yet!  Keep  your  line! 
Dress  to  the  left!" 

"Hold  your  fire  till  you  get  the  word,  men!  As  soon 
as  you  fire  charge  on  the  works!" 

It  was  the  colonel,  dashing  up  and  down  the  line  and 
calling  out  as  he  rode. 

Boom !     Boom !     Boom !     Boom !     Boom !     Boom ! 

It  was  as  if  the  battery  on  the  knoll  had  also  waited  for 
the  signal  from  behind  the  second  brigade,  and  the 
screaming  shell  came  flying  over  the  men,  making  them 
quiver  and  stoop.  For  they  had  not  learned  yet  that  the 
artillerj'  under  such  circumstances  is  not  so  dangerous  as 
it  sounds — not  nearly  so  dangerous  as  the  little,  singing, 
leaden  pellets  which  do  not  make  anything  like  such  a 
noise. 

"Steady  there!  Heads  up !  They  haven't  come  within 
a  mile  of  us!  Put  that  gun  down,  Moller!  Wait  for  the 
word!" 

"Not  so  fast  there  in  the  center!  Steady — and  stop 
that  dodging!" 

A  feathery  line  of  smoke  ran  along  the  lower  earthwork 
followed  by  the  sharp  rattle  of  musketry,  and  the  bullets 
pattered  along  the  front  of  the  line. 

"Steady  !  Dress  to  the  left!  That's  all  right — let  'em 
waste  their  ammunition!" 

Captain  Bancroft  was  getting  to  be  a  good  deal  of  a 
soldier,  you  see. 


102  GOD'S  WAR. 

His  voice  could  scarcely  be  heard  though  he  strained 
till  he  was  red  in  the  face.  A  dozen  batteries  in  different 
parts  of  tlie  field  were  pounding  a^Ya.v  all  at  once,  while 
ten  thousand  muskets  were  being  fired  each  minute. 
The  battery  in  front  of  the  second  regiment  was  hard  at 
it,  and  rupidly  getting  the  range.  The  infantry  in  the 
earthwork  had  ceased  firing.  Battery  "B"  was  pounding 
away  in  reply  to  the  rebel  artillery,  but  wildly  and  with- 
out effect.  The  shells  from  the  two  batteries  went 
screaming  back  and  forth  but  a  few  feet  above  the  heads 
of  the  men — so  near  that  it  seemed  a  miracle  that  no  one 
was  struck.  After  one  or  two  battles  tlie  soldier  learns 
that  that  is  a  way  shells  have  and  don't  mind  it  much. 
But  it  is  hard  on  a  new  man. 

The  regiment  began  to  grow  restive,  and  the  officers 
had  all  they  could  do,  shouting  and  running  up  and 
down  the  line  knocking  muskets  up  with  their  swords, 
to  keep  their  men  from  firing;  although  it  was  plain  that 
nothing  would  come  of  it  but  a  waste  of  ammunition. 
Still  they  kept  on  with  tolerable  steadiness  but  an  accel- 
erated pace.  If  they  would  only  keep  this  line  for  five 
minutes  more! 

But  five  imnutes  is  an  age  at  such  a  time!  The  men 
were  utterly  ignorant  of  such  scenes,  and  their  excite- 
ment was  only  increased  by  the  fact  that  they  were  being 
shot  at,  out  in  the  open  field,  by  an  enemy  under  cover, 
and  were  not  allowed  to  rei^ly.  If  they  could  only  fire 
back — that  would  give  escape  to  some  of  their  nervous- 
ness and  excitement.  True,  nobody  was  hurt  yet,  but 
this  can't  last  long. 

"Shall  we  be  shot  down  like  dogs  and  not  attempt  to 
defend  ourselves?" 

God  in  heaven!  what  is  this? 

A  shrill  shrieking  unheard  before  fills  the  air — it  is  not 
the  singing  of  a  minie  ball  nor  yet  the  scream  of  a  shell 
but  more  horrible  than  either — and  the  air  is  full  of  it. 
The  sickening  thud  of  balls  striking  and  entering  human 
flesh  is  heard — and  men  drop  down  all  along  the  line! 
The  enemy  is  throwing  grape  and  canister  and  mowing 
swaths  in  the  living  moving  wall  of  human  beings! 

That  ends  it!    There  is  no  use  in  struggling  and  trying 


god's  war.  103 

to  make  greeu  soldiers  keep  in   Hue   or    hold    their  fire 
after  that  I 

They  fire  wildly,  some  iu  the  air,  the  cooler  ones 
toward  the  enemy,  but  many  ot  tlie  coolest  without  takiuy; 
any  sort  of  aim  whatever!  Then  they  huddle  together 
iu  groups  like  sheep,  and  reload  and  firo  aud  load  agaiu, 
while  the  rebel  infantry  from  their  cover  pour  iu  volley 
after  volley,  well  aimed  and  with  fearful  effect,  and  the 
grape  and  canister  come  thicker  than  ever.  Men  begin 
to  fly  to  the  rear.  The  ground  is  strewn  with  smitten 
helpless  dead  aud  dying!  MilesBancroft is  down!  Will 
"Walters,  the  dapper  little  fellow,  is  on  his  back,  the  blood 
gushing  out  of  a  great  hole  iu  his  side— his  limbs  are 
jerking  about  spasmodically  while  his  features  are  working 
strangely  and  horribly.  Charlie  Hall  lies  motionless — 
killed  instantly — and  a  peaceful  smile  is  coming  into  his 
dead  face.  Tom  and  Nat  are  loading  and  firing  and  en- 
couraging the  men  to  come  on. 

But  it  is  of  no  use!  In  the  left  wing  of  the  regiment 
the  panic  has  set  in — there  go  the  colors  to  the  rear — 
the  men  glance  over  their  shoulders  and  see  the  whole 
regiment  in  headlong  flight.  The  few  obstinate  fellows 
give  it  up!  They  rush  back  pellmell  and  do  not  stop 
till  they  get  to  the  rear  of  their  old  camp  again. 

Tom  aud  Nat  are  left  alone.  They  are  both  cool  now, 
save  for  their  rage  at  the  shameful  retreat.  They  look 
at  each  other  and,  without  speaking,  shoulder  their 
muskets  and  turn  their  backs  upon  the  enemj-.  A  groan 
of  agony  draws  their  attention  to  Miles.  He  has  a  ragged 
hole  in  his  thigh.  They  pick  him  up  and  bear  him  back 
to  the  field  hospital. 

Then  they  come  back  with  perhaps  a  hundred  men  of 
their  regiment  gathered  up  here  and  there,  cool  now, 
and  bitter;  and  determined  to  retrieve  their  disgrace  if 
a  chance  offers. 

They  are  just  in  time  to  see  the  fresh  troops  sent  to 
take  the  works  repulsed.  They  stand  gloomily  on  the 
spot  of  their  first  formation,  watching  the  poor  fellows 
slaughtered  like  sheep  or  flying  like  cravens.  Their 
hearts  grow  more  bitter  aud  the  desire  for  revenge  soon 
overbears  every  other  feeling,  complete!}'  driving  out  all 
considerations  as  to  their  personal  safety. 


104  cod's  war. 

The  general  is  off  on  another  part  of  the  field  even 
more  important  than  this;  and  there  is  no  one  here  who 
knows  any  more  about  war  than  a  babe  in  arms. 

"Who's  in  commantl  around  here?"  asks  Tom. 

"God  knows,"  answers  Nat.     "Anybody,  everybody 
and  nobody,  so  fnr  as  I  can  see!" 
see!" 

"Sort  of  a  free  fight,  isn't  it?" 

"Looks  like  it." 

"Well,  let's  go  in!" 

"W^here?" 

"They're  going  to  charge  the  works  again,  with  two 
fresh  regiments." 

"So  they  are — I  see!" 

"Well,  I  believe  we  can  take  that  battery!" 

"How?     Show  us  how  and  we'll  do  it  or  die  trying!" 

And  the  men,  suddenly  grown  quiet  and  determined 
and  dangerous,  gather  around  Tom  as  he  explains  bis 
plan. 

"Good!     We'll  try  it!" 

"Will  you  take  command,  Nat?" 

"No,  but  I'll  follow  you!" 

"But  think  a  little.  It's  worse  than  charging  out 
here!"  cries  one  of  the  men. 

"I  don't  care  if  it  is!" 

"It's  almost  certain  death!" 

"I  don't  care  for  that  either!  I  believe  we  can  make 
it.     What  do  you  say,  boys,  will  you  try  it?" 

"We  will!" 

"Yes,"  said  Nat,  "we'll  give  'em  a  whirl,  anyhow,  just 
for  luck!" 

Yesterday  they  would  have  been  noisy  about  it.  They 
will  never  swagger  again,  but  whenever  thej-  start  here- 
after they  will  be  more  likely  to  accomplish  what  they 
set  out  to  do. 

Tom  draws  them  off  to  the  right,  and  to  the  other  side 
of  the  trees  that  line  the  hither  side  of  the  lane  that  runs 
by  the  impenetrable  thicket.  Then  he  explains  more  in 
detail  his  plan,  so  that  each  man  understands  what  is 
expected  of  him. 

The  enemy  have  ceased  firing  and  are  intently  "watch- 


god's  war.  105 

ing  the  formation  of  the  two  regiments  that  are  to  essay 
the  third  charge  upon  them.  They  know  that  the  thicket 
protects  their  left  flank. 

When  the  two  regiments  start  up  the  slope  Tom  moves 
his  men  in  ranks  of  four  swiftly  up  the  lane,  ahead  of 
the  line  an  eighth  of  a  mile.  He  regulates  his  movements 
by  those  of  the  two  regiments,  who  present  a  gallant 
front,  poor  fellows!     But  he  keeps  ahead  of  them. 

The  battery  opens  with  shell  and  round  shot,  but  the 
charging  column  moves  on  bravel.v.  "When  it  approaches 
the  line  of  thickly  strewn  bodies  which  marks  the  cul- 
mination of  the  disaster  to  those  who  had  gone  before  the 
men  waver  perceptibly,  and  Tom  trembles  with  anxietj'. 

But  they  steady  themselves  and  start  up  on  a  trot,  with 
trailed  arms. 

This  is  the  moment  Tom  has  waited  for.  His  men 
have  reached  the  left  flank  of  the  battery,  still  under 
cover  of  the  trees.  The  rebel  cannoneers  are  preparing 
to  load  with  the  fatal  grape  and  canister,  but  think  to 
plaj'  with  their  victims.  They  will  let  this  column  come 
much  nearer  than  the  others  did,  and  then  they  will  do 
greater  execution.  They  are  chuckling  over  their  aaticsi- 
pated  victory  and  they  hear  the  infantry  below  cheering 
as  they  deliver  their  tirst  volley  at  their  assailants. 

Still  the  line  comes  on !  The  commander  of  the  battery 
gives  the  order  to  load  the  guns.  Tom  gives  his  com- 
mand in  the  same  breath  : 

"Forward,  double  quick,  march!" 

In  an  instant  his  com)uand — a  hundred  or  more  men 
from  various  companies  and  regiments,  have  leaped  from 
their  cover,  not  fifty  feet  from  the  guns. 

"By  the  left  Hank,  charge!"  shrieks  Tom,  and  his  men 
are  upon  the  gunners,  shooting,  stabbing  with  the  ha.y- 
onet  and  crushing  in  skulls  with  the  butts  of  their 
muskets.  The  cannoneers  fight  bravely,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose. Their  assailants  have  a  fearful  reckoning  to  make 
with  them.  The  struggle  is  a  terrible  one!  Tom  is 
knocked  down  with  a  swab-stock  and  the  man  who  struck 
him  has  his  head  broken  hy  the  barrel  of  Nat's  gun— the 
stock  has  been  worn  out  on  other  heads. 

The  surprise  was  a  complete  one,  and  the  result  of  the 


106  god's  war. 

exploit  is  soon  told.  The  rebel  infantry  turned  to  see 
why  it  was  that  the  artillery  Avas  sil«ut.  They  discovered 
the  cause  just  as  the  assailing  Union  column  realized 
that  something  favorable  for  thein  had  happened.  The 
rebels  fell  into  a  panic  and  the  charging  column  gave 
them  a  volley  to  complete  their  demoralization  and  with 
a  cheer  swept  the  hill. 

But  the  Confederates  cannot  permit  them  to  remain 
there  undisturbed.  From  new  coigns  of  vantage  they 
pour  in  a  hot  and  withering  fire,  and  charge  upon  the 
Union  soldiers  by  brigades.  The  Federals  gather  up 
reinforcements  wherever  they  can.  The  fatal  knoll  is 
covered  with  dead  and  dying  so  thickly  that  some  are 
piled  on  top  of  others,  and  the  waves  of  advancing  and 
retreating  regiments  sweep  over  them,  each  leaving  fresh 
victims  to  add  to  the  number.  The  rebel  guns  are 
captured  and  recaptured,  and  are  used  by  the  Union  men 
and  the  rebels  alternately — as  the  swab  is  rammed  into 
the  piece  by  the  rebel  it  is  drawn  out  by  the  Union  sol- 
dier; the  charge  that  is  driven  home  by  the  blue  is  fired 
by  the  gray. 

The  combatants  are  almost  equally  matched  and  each 
can  only  hope  for  a  miracle,  for  all  over  the  field  fierce 
fighting  is  going  on  and  no  reinforcements  can  be  spared 
to  either  side — but  neither  will  yield,  and  the  struggle 
goes  on  till  hundreds  are  left  to  continue  the  work  that 
thousands  begun. 

But  of  what  avail?  The  world  knows  that  sudden  re- 
inforcements to  the  Confederates  came  pouring  in  from 
the  Shenandoah  Valley  and  the  prophetic  vision  which 
Clayton  had,  a  week  before,  was  fulfilled.  The  battle 
of  Bull  Run  was  lost  and  through  its  loss  the  nation 
was  waked  and  saved. 

As  Tom  was  pursuing  his  sullen,  dogged  retreat  that 
evening,  just  as  the  dusk  was  falling,  he  discovered  a 
wounded  man  lying  under  a  tree  at  the  roadside.  The 
poor  fellow  was  praying  and  Tom,  thinking  he  recognized 
the  voice,  halted.  It  was  Andrew  IMcQuirk,  the  Presby- 
terian minister. 

"Ay,  lad,  is  it  you?"  He  raised  his  bushy  brows  as 
he  recognized  Tom.     He   went  on   in  a   queer  *  jargon, 


god's  war.  107 

relapsing  into  his  broad  Scotch  by  times.  "The  Lord 
Jehovah  reigus!  Diuua  ye  be  downcast, my  lud!  He 
doetb  all  things  well!  Thou'rt  a  brave  lad!  Ay!  Ay! 
Ye've  the  richt  stuff  iu  ye!  Ye  fought  the  Lord's  battle 
the  day,  like  a  mon,  though  ye've  nae  spear  o'  hair  on 
ye  r  chin!  I  was  with  thee,  lad.  I  followed  ye  to  the 
battery,  and  ye  vrere  born  to  fight  Jehovah's  battles  and 
flash  among  his  enemies  for  their  destruction  like  a 
shining  sword!  Ye 're  gude  and  brave — keep  yer  soul 
clean  for  He  has  anointed  ye!     Have  ye  water?" 

Tom  had  none,  but  offered  whisky  from  a  canteen  he 
had  picked  up  during  the  day. 

"Nae!  nae!  I  cannot  tak'it,"  said  the  preacher  as  he 
smelled  it,  "it  has  nae  the  smell  o'  the  smoke  on  it!  It 
is  no  gude — 'tis  the  deil's  broth! 

"Dinna  be  downcast!  This  is  not  the  last  battle  ye'll 
fight  iu  this  war!  There'll  be  many  to  come!  But  this 
defeat  was  the  Lord's  doing!  He  sent  it  for  the  awaken- 
ing o'  this  dull  and  drowsy  people!  They  will  rise  and 
establish  His  ways  in  a'  this  land!  He  will  set  His 
sign  over  this  people,  for  they  will  do  His  w-ill! 

"He  is  gude  and  loving-kind!  I  thank  Thee,  oh  my 
Lord  Jehovah  that  Thou  hast  esteemed  Thy  servant 
worthy  to  shed  his  blood  like  the  blessed  martyrs  of  old, 
that  Thy  kingdom  might  be  established  and  Thy  people 
jnade  free! 

"Go,  lad,  and  save  thyself!" 

But  when  Tom  left  the  old  Scotchman  he  was  dead; 
and  his  grim,  stern  face  shone  in  the  darkness  -with  a 
ghostb',  phosphoreecent  gleam  that  sent  a  new  horror  to 
the  boy's  heart  as  he  glanced  oer  his  shoulder  and 
quickened  his  steps. 


108  god's  war. 


CHAPTER  XL 

WAS    HE    BORN    TO    BE    HUNQ? 

"Didn't  I  say  you  was  born  to  be  bung?" 
Tom  bad  plodded  many  a  weary  mile  tbat  nigbt  and 
it  was  breaking  day  wbeu  Nat's  cbeerful  salutation  fell 
upon  bis  ear.  After  tbe  last  grand  cbarge  by  the  rebels, 
wbicb  bad  scattered  bis  comrades  in  all  directions,  be 
found  bimself  surrounded  by  strangers;  and  too  heart- 
sick to  care  to  bunt  up  Company  "A"  be  bad  wandered 
hither  and  thither  without  any  particular  aim  except 
perhaps  to  keep  out  of  tbe  bauds  of  the  victorious  Con- 
federates who  were  scouring  the  Held  in  all  directions 
and  following  up  the  retreating  Federals  as  closely  as 
they  dared — which  was  pretty  close,  as  some  of  the  sur- 
Tivors  will  tell  you  to  this  day.  In  this  way  tlie  sore 
and  chagrined  young  corporal  seemed  to  be  walking  in  a 
dream;  and  when  be  was  aroused  from  it  bj-  the  sound 
of  old  ]McQuirk's  praying  be  found  himself  again  within 
the  enemy's  lines.  As  we  have  seen,  however,  be  re- 
mained to  perform  the  last  pious  offices  for  the  dying 
man,  with  tbat  nonchalant  disregard  for  personal  con- 
sequences to  bimself  that  bad  at  all  times  characterized 
him  and  been  a  part  of  his  nature,  unless  we  except  the 
morning  of  that  same  day  when  he  stood  with  the  regi- 
ment awaiting  the  summons  to  the  onset.  And  when  be 
stole  away  from  tbe  glimmering,  white  face  of  the  old 
Presbyterian  lying  there  so  silent  and  so  awful  in  the 
darkness,  be  went  with  a  stealthy  step,  and  a  watchful 
eye,  for  a  long  time,  till  be  liad  reached  the  rear  of  the 
retreating  army. 

We  have  seen  the  hoy  rapidly  assimilating  experiences 
of  a  startling  and  sternly  imperative  sort,  and  we  have 


GOD'S   WAIL  109 

found  hira  growing  quickly  into  manhood  from  the 
rnoinent  when  he  learned  on  the  thresliold  of  the  pailor 
of  the  judge's  house  that  ho  had  a  rival — tlie  monjenfc 
when  he  first  imatrined,  too,  perhaps,  that  he  loved  and 
loved  ardently  and  deeply.  During  his  service  in  the 
camp  and  before  he  was  ever  under  fire  he  Avas  daily 
becoming  more  and  more  manly — among  men,  he  was 
adopting  their  manners,  losing  the  awkwardness  and 
rawness  of  style  usual  to  boyhood,  while  in  thought  and 
mind  he  was  far  outstripping  the  majority  of  those  with 
whom  he  was  associated.  The  affair  at  Bartlett's  bridge 
had  still  further  developed  him  and  given  him  confidence 
in  himself  and  weight  among  his  fellows.  The  awful  ex- 
perience of  the  day  he  had  just  passed  had  solidified  him 
and  taken  from  him  v,'hatever  there  might  be  of  a  boyish 
tendency  to  overrate  himself.  He  had  lost  no  particle 
of  his  self-confidence;  but  he  had  learned  caution,  and 
that  the  sober  view  of  things  was  the  wiser  one  to  take. 
He  came  out  of  the  battle  better  fitted  for  his  new  pro- 
fession than  he  was  when  he  went  into  it.  In  brief  he 
was  clay  ready  to  receive  the  impression  and  quick  to 
harden  in  the  new  shape  given  by  the  swift  working 
hand  of  events.  He  thought  that  the  experience  had 
made  him  old — as  it  had — and  gray-headed,  as  it  had 
not.  He  was  surprised  to  find  a  few  days  afterward  that 
there  were  after  all  no  new  seams  and  wrinkles  in  his 
face.  During  the  struggle  on  Battery  Knoll,  as  the  boys 
soon  came  to  call  it,  he  thought  he  could  actually  feel 
the  deep  furrows  growing  in  his  face  and  brow. 

Still,  he  had  a  great  deal  to  learn  and  he  learned  a 
very  important  part  of  it  while  he  listened  to  the  mono- 
logue of  the  dying  preacher  in  the  falling  twilight. 
There  was  to  him  in  the  old  man's  words  a  startling  reve- 
lation of  the  significance  of  the  work  in  which  he  was 
engaged.  He  had  enlisted  first,  because  on  general 
principles  he  was  a  citizen  of  the  republic  and  desired 
to  see  the  effort  to  destroy  it  crushed  out,  and  was  willing 
to  do  what  he  might  to  aid  in  putting  down  the  rebellion. 
In  the  second  place  he  was  by  nature  so  chivalric  that 
the  idea  of  human  slavery  was  repugnant  to  him, 
although  he  had  never  thought  deeply  upon  the  subject. 


110  GOD'S   WAR. 

Then  lie  liad  anotlier  motive,  perhaps  it  was  the  strong- 
eat,  and  that  was  a  desiro to  getaway  from  the  humdrum 
existence  at  Clayton  and  see  something  of  the  world.  Of 
course  when  the  opportunity  to  do  so  took  a  form  prom- 
ising so  much  that  was  romantic  and  adventurous  it  was 
irresistible  as  it  ought  to  have  been  and  always  will  be 
to  every  properly  organized  youth — to  all  boys  except 
those  monstrosities  who  are  born  wise  and  prudent  and  — 
selfish.  He  enjoyed  the  life;  enjoj'ed  the  successes  he 
achieved  in  quickly  acquiring  the  drill  and  picking  up 
the  points  of  routine  which  go  so  far  to  make  a  good 
soldier — enjoyed  even  the  discomforts  of  the  life — there 
was  a  novelty  about  them  that  gave  them  great  zest.  He 
knew  to  his  satisfaction  in  a  by-and-large  sort  of  way 
that  he  was  doing  the  right  thing,  but  he  valued  the 
feeling  more  because  it  contributed  to  his  general  com- 
fort than  because  he  was  strenuous^'  anxious  to  do  a 
great  work  in  a  grand,  heroic  way.  He  was  not  quite 
living  up  to  his  powers  but  he  was  unconscious  of  the 
fact  and  nothing  had  seemed  to  arouse  him  to  a  realiza- 
tion of  it. 

He  had  heard  a  great  many  political  speakers  and  had 
read  the  newspapers  and  could  have  told  with  sufficient 
precision  what  the  war  was  about  and  why  he  should  be 
a  soldier  in  the  Union  army  instead  of  the  Confederate. 
He  understood  Fielding's  earnestness,  but  didn't  enter 
into  his  enthusiasm.  He  recognized  McQuirk's  zeal,  but 
it  was  as  a  man  may  perceive — through  the  window — the 
glow  of  light  at  another  man's  hearthstone  and  yet  not 
feel  the  warmth  that  comes  from  the  tire.  He  might  have 
gone  on  in  this  careless,  boyish  Avay,  fighting  bravely  and 
successfully  to  the  close  of  the  war — doing  just  as  good 
service  perhaps,  but  not  doing  it  with  such  intelligent 
knowledge  of  what  it  meant,  if  he  had  not  happened  to 
spend  the  brief  hour  with  poor  McQuirk. 

The  solemn  earnestness  with  which  the  old  man  spoke 
of  the  holiness  of  the  cause — that  it  was  the  working  out 
of  the  awful  will  of  the  Lord  Jehovah — impressed  him  as 
the  same  words  had  never  before  done.  They  lifted  the 
veil  and  he  gazed  with  uncovered  eyes  upon  that  of  which 
he  had  up  to  that  time  only  seen  the  imperfect  outlines. 


god's  war.  Ill 

He  felt  the  warm,  living  hand  clasp  his  own  and  a  new 
strength  was  given  him  to  battle  for  the  right. 

But  was  the  old  man  wandering  when  he  declared  that 
the  lad  was  "anointed"  to  a  great  work?  Was  he  simply 
dealing  in  the  figures  of  speech  to  which  his  long  service 
in  the  church  had  accustomed  him,  and  which,  boiled 
down  and  stripped  of  lofty  verbiage,  only  meant  that  he 
was,  perhaps,  unusually  well  qualified  for  a  soldier's  life? 
Tom  tried  to  think  so,  but  the  solemn  manner  of  the 
preacher  which  was  as  if  he  was  an  inspired  prophet 
proclaiming  a  message  from  on  high  had  an  effect  which 
he  could  not  shake  off.  In  connection  with  it  was  Tom's 
own  recognition  of  the  fact  that  he  had  been  successful — ■ 
more  successful  than  any  of  his  comrades  had  been.  He 
tried  to  reason  with  himself,  saying  that  any  one  of  them 
under  the  same  circumstances  would  have  done  the  same 
things  just  as  well  as  he  had  done  them;  but  reason  as 
he  would  he  could  not  throw  off  the  impression  the  old 
man  had  made  on  him. 

There  are  very  few  of  us  who  are  not  affected  seriously 
by  the  solemn  messages  given  us  by  a  dying  man,  even 
when  we  feel  that  doubtless  his  mind  is  wandering.  His 
feet  are  laved  by  the  waters  of  that  mysterious  river 
which  flows  between  the  here  and  the  hereafter.  In  a 
sense — in  part  at  least — he  is  already  of  the  other  world. 
"Who  can  tell  that  by  the  subtle  connection  between  the 
mortal  and  the  immortal — the  spirit  which  has  perhaps 
already  opened  its  eyes  in  the  other  world  and  the  frail 
body  which  has  not  yet  ceased  altogether  to  perform  its 
functions  in  this  world — who  can  tell  that  b^^  that  subtle 
link  not  yet  severed  the  spirit  may  not  send  to  us 
through  the  dying  body  a  message  taken  from  the  reve- 
lation it  encounters  there?  Did  the  preacher  simply 
voice  a  conviction  he  had  formed  on  the  battlefield?  Or 
was  it  given  him  in  that  dread  moment  to  read  in  the 
register  of  heaven  the  entry  of  the  lad's  name  and  the 
purpose  for  which  he  was  sent  into  the  world?  If  others 
might  have  done  as  well  as  he,  the  fact  remained  that  they 
had  not  done  so.  If  the  circumstances  were  all  that  they 
required,  was  it  not  true  that  the  circumstances  had  not 
been   afforded  them?     Did   it   not   prove   that  he   was 


112  god's  war. 

specially  selected  ?  Tom  was  not  mucli  of  a  believer  in 
accidents.  He  had  never  relied  upon  chance  to  help 
him  out.  To  him  things  were  ordered  from  the  begin- 
ning; there  was  no  doubt  of  that;  precisely  what  it  was 
that  was  ordered — the  point  was  to  find  that  out. 

All  in  all  the  dying  Scotchman  had  done  Tom  an  im- 
portant service  in  imbuing  him  with  a  sort  of  holy  en- 
thusiasm in  the  cause,  making  him  to  understand  that  it 
really  meant  something  more  than  the  mere  resistance  to 
an  attempt  to  overthrow  a  government  of  man's  con- 
struction. And  he  did  him  a  further  service  in  showing 
him  that,  perhaps,  he  was  serving  out  an  appointed 
destiny,  and  had  put  his  hand  unconsciously  to  a  work 
whereunto  he  was  divinely  sent.  And  this  conviction, 
or  semi-conviction,  clung  to  him,  even  if  the  evident 
ponderousness  of  its  weight  did  very  soon  disappear. 
He  learned  to  carry  the  load,  as  was  natural  with  him  in 
manner  and  under  whatever  i-esponsibility,  with  grace  and 
ease  and  no  apparent  effort. 

It  was  the  early  dawn.     The  boy  was  weary  and  was 
plodding  along  half-asleep,  passing  by  many  little  groups 
who  had   gathered   by  the  wayside  around  fires  hastib' 
lighted,  to  talk  over  with  bitterness  and  shame  the  result 
of  the  battle  and  to  look  forward  to  the  future  with  dis- 
mal forebodings.      He  passed  crippled   horses   and   dead 
ones;  wagons  mired  and  abandoned   by  frightened  team- 
sters and  wagons  mired  and   surrounded   still  by  angry 
and  profane  drivers  too  obstinate  to  give  them  up;  here 
and  there  a  piece  of  artillery;  very  frequently  a  musket; 
almost  constantly  canteens  and  haversacks  and  cartridge- 
boxes    and    overcoats    and    blankets,  all   cast  away   and 
thrown  aside  by  men   flying   panic-stricken.     In   all   his 
weary  tramp  he  had  seen  nothing  nor  heard  anything  to 
cheer  him  till  he  heard  Nat's  cordial  inquiry: 
"Didn't  I  say  you  was  born  to  be  hung?" 
"Good-morning,  Sergeant  Kellogg.    You  are  up  early !" 
"Rather,  yes!     Toe  sweet  air  was  so  inviting  and  the 
songs  of  the  birds  so  enchanting  that  I  couldn't  resist!" 
"That'll  do  verj'  well  for  a  blacksmith!" 
"Are  you  out  for  a  stroll  for  your  health?" 
"A  little  something  in  that  way."  * 


god's  war.  113 

"Yes — I  thought  it  would  be  healthy  myself  to  stroll 
a  little,  yesterday  eveniug — about  the  same  time  you 
came  to  the  same  conclusion,  I  reckou." 

"I  hope  you  didn't  overdo  it.  The  trouble  with  some 
folks  is  that  when  they  need  exercise  they  take  too  much, 
and  do  themselves  more  harm  than  good.  Now,  you  look 
as  if  you  had  strolled  at  the  rate  of  about  thirty  miles  an 
hour.     That's  overdoing  it!" 

"That  depends,  my  son,  on  the  necessities  of  the  case! 
There  are  times  when  you  are  so  infernally  particular 
about  your  health — when  it  is  in  such  peril,  you  see, 
that  gentle  exercise  don't  quite  fill  the  bill " 

"Still,  I  scarcely  think  that  your  extreme  energy  was 
justifiable." 

"Well,  the  last  I  saw  of  you,  j'ou  was  goin'  like  the 
devil  beating  tan-bark!  That's  what  saved  me!  The 
Johnnies  stopped  to  look  at  you,  and  while  they  was 
betting  that  you  could  beat  a  loose  locomotive,  wide-open 
and  the  switch  locked,  I  took  French  leave!" 

"Then  I  have  saved  your  life?" 

"Well— yes!" 

"I'm  glad  of  it.  It  isn't  much,  but  it's  the  first  thing 
I  ever  did  save.     It's  a  beginning!" 

"Thank  you!" 

"Don't  mention  it!  It's  not  of  the  slightest  conse- 
quence." 

"Oh,  you  be  blowed!"  cried  Nat,  in  a  broad  grin; 
overjoyed  to  find  Tom  alive  and  in  such  high  spirits. 

The  truth  is  the  sound  of  Nat's  voice  had  brought 
about  a  natural  revulsion  from  the  somberness  of  the 
thoughts  Tom  had  been  filled  with  all  night  to  the  height 
of  absurd  exhilaration. 

"Speaking  of  saving,"  observed  Tom,  "did  you  man- 
age to  save  anything  to  eat?" 

"Ah,  when  the  Kellogg  family  gets  left  on  the  grub 
question  just  call  my  attention  to  it,  will  you?" 

"Well,  you  mercenary  wretch,  will  you  sell  me  some- 
thing?" 

"Do  you  see  that  coffee-pot  on  the  fire  there?" 

"That's  the  loveliest  spectacle  I  ever  set  eyes  on!" 

"It's  mine!" 


114  GOD'S   WAR. 

"Good!" 

"Good?  Isbouldsay  so!  It's  full  of  the  best  and 
strongest  coffee  you  ever  met  anywhere  in  your  life!" 

"You  interest  me!" 

"Biliu'  hot!" 

"Ah!" 

"I'm  sorry  you're  in  such  a  hurry!  I  was  going  to 
ask  5'ou  to  take  a  cup,  but  if  you  must  be  going,  why 
good-by!     Take  care  of  yourself!" 

"If  it's  all  the  same  to  you,  you  needn't  worry  about 
me!     I  have  concluded  to  stay  here  awhile!" 

"It  ?'.s  a  nice  spot!" 

"Beautiful!" 

"Have  you  cast  your  optic  over  the  scenery?" 

"I  have  viewed  the  landscape  o'er  with  a  great  deal  of 
pleasure!" 

"Exactly!  But  if  you  hadn't  been  in  such  a  hurry 
comiu'  along  you'd  have  seen  more.  You  can  view  a 
landscape  much  more  o'er-er  when  you  take  things 
leisurely.     But  maybe  j'ou  had  a  pressing  engagement?" 

"I  had!  Or  rather,  that  is  to  say,  I  had  a  caller  whom 
I  wished  to  avoid.  A  creditor!  Thin  party,  skeleton 
suit  with  a  sickle  in  his  hand  and  an  unpleasant  sort  of 
a  grin  on  his  face!" 

"Ah!  saw  the  same  party,  myself!" 

"Yes.  He  said  he  was  looking  for  a  fat  man — friend 
of  his  runs  a  sulphur-pit  and  fire  was  getting  low!" 

"The  devil!" 

"I  think  that's  the  name  of  your  friend!  Well,  old 
Bonesey  claimed  my  account  was  due.  Wanted  me  to 
pay  it.     I  objected " 

"Yes — it's  a  way  you  have,  I'm  told!  Never  pay  what 
j'ou  owe,  if  you  can  help  it!" 

"Exactly!  Don't  intend  to  pay  this  fellow  till  the 
very  last." 

"Yes?" 

"Yes.  So  to  avoid  high  words  and  unpleasant  feelings 
Ilifc  out!" 

"He  followed?" 

"Not  far!    I  was  too  speedy — too  handy  with  my  legs!" 

And  without  a  smile  the  two  friends  jested  atv  the  ex- 


god's  war.  115 

periences  of  the  da.v  before,  wliile  tbey  ate  their  break- 
fast.    Then  they  started  out  to  find  their  regiment. 

It  was  not  an  easy  task.  But  they  argued  correctly 
that,  as  their  term  of  enlistment  was  about  up,  they 
would  find  their  comrades  in  Washington.  And  they 
did  find  them,  after  a  search  of  nearly  thirty -six  hours, 
and  were  received  with  a  wild  welcome.  They  had  been 
given  up  as  dead  or  prisoners. 

They  found  that  Bancroft's  wound  was  a  very  serious 
one.  By  great  good  fortune  he  had  been  brought  from 
the  field  and  w'as  in  hospital.  It  was  a  question  whether 
his  leg  could  be  saved  from  amputation,  but  the  surgeon, 
our  old  friend  Woods,  had  promised  to  do  his  best.  Old 
Fielding,  too,  was  in  hospital.  He  had  got  a  cut  over 
the  eye,  which,  with  the  high  state  of  nervous  excitement 
that  he  had  worked  himself  into  over  the  war,  had  sent 
him  to  the  little  white  cot  with  a  great  fever. 

Dick  Drummond  had  got  a  flesh  wound,  Sam  Jamieson 
was  likely  to  lose  his  arm,  Aleck  Anderson  had  six  holes 
through  his  clothes,  etc.,  etc.  The  news  was  all  retailed 
to  the  friends,  concluding  with  the  announcement  that 
the  regiment  was  ordered  to  Camp  Chase  at  Columbus 
to  be  mustered  out,  and  that  Bob  Snead  was  missing, 
never  having  been  seen  after  the  first  fire. 

"I  saw  him,"  said  Nat.  "He  ran  like  a  whitehead, 
the  great  beef!  He's  the  fellow  that  said  you  were 
afraid,  Tom." 

"Poor  fellow!"  replied  Tom.  He  was  wondering  if 
the  awful  terror  he  had  experienced  was  not  enough  to 
make  a  man  run,  what  on  earth  could  be  the  sensation 
which  would  suffice  for  that  purpose?  And  he  felt  sorry 
for  Snead — needlessly,  for  the  fellow  was  a  bully. 

In  a  few  more  days  they  were  to  start  back  to  Ohio. 
They  had  nearly  all  agreed  to  re-enlist  "for  three  years 
or  during  the  war, "  but  stipulated  for  a  furlough  of  a 
few  days  to  go  home  and  arrange  business  affairs. 

They  were  encamped  with  thousands  of  others  just 
north  of  the  city  on  what  has  since  come  to  be  called 
Columbia  Heights.  The  day  before  they  were  to  start 
home  Tom  and  Nat,  trying  to  get  a  Avink  of  sleep  under 
their  hot  tent,  were  aroused  by  a  tremendous  shouting 


116  god's  war. 

and  bnrrahing;  in  which  the  whole  camp  seemed  to  he 
participating.  They  ran  to  the  door  in  time  to  see  a 
tall,  angular,  homely  man,  -who  sat  his  horse  with  re- 
markable grace,  ride  by,  surrounded  b}'  a  brilliant  array 
of  officers  and  soldiers.  He  had  his  hat  off  and  bowed 
right  and  left,  while  a  sad,  anxious  smile  lit  up  his  care- 
worn face.  His  horsemanship  struck  Nat.  While  his 
brilliantly  uniformed  attendants  rode  English  fashion, 
with  their  knees  bent,  the  plain  man's  stirrup-leathers 
were  so  long  that  his  toes  just  touched  the  brasses.  But 
his  heels  were  out,  and  it  was  evident  that  his  seat  was 
firm,  although  his  big,  raw-boned  thoroughbred  was 
vicious  and  fractious. 

"He  knows  how  to  ride,"  said  Nat. 

"Don't  you  know  who  it  is?"  asked  Tom. 

"No!     Who  is  it?" 

"Why  Lincoln — the  President!" 

"What,  old  Abe?"  Nat  had  not  thought  to  look  at 
his  face.  "So  it  is!  Hurrah  for  old  Abe!"  and  his 
stentorious  shout  won  a  special  recognition  from  the 
President. 

The  cavalcade  halted  in  front  of  the  colonel's  tent  and 
that  gentleman  bustled  about  like  a  man  possessed  by  the 
demon  of  unrest.  The  President!  He  had  done  no 
other  colonel  such  an  honor!     He  must  have  heard 

"Colonel,  you  have  a  young  fellow  in  your  regiment  I 
want  to  see.  He's  a  corporal,  I  think,  by  the  name  of 
Bailey!" 

"Tom  Bailey!  Tom  Bailey!"  and  the  boys  sent  up 
another  shout — for  Tom  was  popular  with  them. 

"That's  the  man,"  said  the  President  with  a  gratified 
smile. 

Tom  was  brought  before  him.  He  stood,  perfectly  at 
his  ease,  with  his  hat  in  his  hand. 

"Are  you  Tom  Bailey?" 

"Yes,  sir!" 

"Corporal  Bailey,  who  defended  Bartlett's  bridge?" 

"I  helped  to  defend  the  bridge,  sir!" 

"And  the  man  Avho  led  the  charge  on  Battery  Knoll?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  was  in  the  charge." 

"Will  you  let  me  shake  hands  with  you?"     v 


god's  war.  in 

It  was  said  with  such  sincere,  unaffected  deference, 
and  the  request  was  made  with  such  a  wistful  look  from 
the  sad  eyes,  as  if  the  President  almost  doubted  whether 
he  was  worthy  of  such  an  honor  and  yet  desired  it  very 
much,  that  the  tears  sprang  to  Tom's  eyes. 

"Why,  Mr.  President,  I  wanted  to  ask  leave  to  take 
your  hand!" 

"I  am  the  one  who  is  honored,  corporal!  The  politi- 
cians have  made  me  President,  but  the  Almighty  has 
made  you  a  leader!     You  rank  me!" 

Tom  started.  This  was  what  McQuirk  said,  only  in 
different  words. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  Captain  Bailey?" 

"Corporal " 

"Captain!  I  will  commission  you  a  captain  in  the 
regular  army,  to-day!" 

Then  such  another  shouting,  in  the  midst  of  which 
Tom  stood  pale  and  embarrassed,  his  eyes  shining  with 
love  for  this  man  whom  he  had  never  seen  before.  He 
was  ready  to  die  for  him,  now. 

"Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  captain?"  he  asked 
again. 

Tom  swallowed  the  lump  in  his  throat. 

"I  would  like  to  ask  one  thing,  sir!" 

"Ask  it!" 

"I  would  like  to  ask  you  not  to  put  me  in  the  regular 
armj'.  I  would  rather  stay  with  the  boys,  here.  We're 
all  going  to  re-enlist." 

If  the  boys  shouted  before,  they  roared  now. 

"I  guess  you're  right,"  said  the  President  after  a 
pause.  "You'll  do  your  duty,  wherever  j'ou  are.  Bat 
remember  to  call  on  me  if  you  ever  need  my  help." 

And  again  shaking  hands,  he  rode  off. 


118  GOD  S   WAR. 


PAKT  III. 


The  Fiery  Furnace. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

ETHEL    LYNDE. 

A  TREMENDOUS  clatter  of  hoofs  came  ringing  up  the  pike, 
startling  the  hushed  quiet  of  the  night  and  sending 
echoes  flying  to  and  fro  through  the  sleeping  country- 
side till  the  uproar  fairly  filled  the  entire  valley.  Away 
down  the  road  which  rolled  over  the  gently  sweeping 
swells  of  the  rounded  hills,  on  the  summit  of  the  highest 
ridge  within  sight,  at  a  point  where  the  white  line  of 
the  highway  showed  like  a  narrow  lute-string  between 
somber  masses  of  dark  cedars  clustering  on  either  side — 
right  at  this  point,  simultaneously  with  the  first  sound  of 
the  clattering,  nervous  hoof-beats  there  careered  over 
the  summit  and  flashed  down  the  hither  slope  and  so 
passed  out  of  sight  in  the  hollow  below  a  swiftly  moving 
clump  of  darkness  like  the  shadow  of  a  cloud  upon  a 
mountainside;  only  of  more  rapid  motion.  A  moment 
later,  and  upon  a  nearer  rise  of  the  road  a  smaller,  de- 
tached, solitary  spot,  fast-fleeing,  rose  and  crossed  and 
fell  again  into  obscurity,  soon  followed  by  the  heavier, 
noisier  mass,  with  more  ponderous  but  still  energetic 
and  determined  movement.  Then  came  shouts  and  calls 
muffled  by  the  distance  and  finally  the  sound  of  rapid 
single-firing  of  guns  or  carbines.  And  the  dewy  night 
air  which  gave  such  hollow  resonance  to  the  barking  of 
the  awakened  house  dogs  at  the  farmhouses  for  a  mile 
around,  seemed  to  clutch  each  weapon  by  the  throat  and 


god's  war.  119 

3hoke  the  life  out  of  the  report  it  made ;  so  that  the  fir- 
ing fell  upon  the  ear  like  the  snapping  of  so  many 
blacksnake  whips.  And  Jthe  voices,  shouting  and  calling, 
came  up  thin,  and  almost  ghostly. 

The  sentry  on  the  picket-line  stopped  full  in  the  glare 
of  the  moonlight  falling  on  the  road  and  stood  idly  and 
carelessly  looking  toward  the  little  valley  whence  the 
noise  came,  as  if  he  had  no  particular  interest  in  it,  and 
in  point  of  fact  was  not  impressed  that  it  was  at  all  out 
of  harmony  with  the  scene  and  the  hour.  And  indeed 
it  did  not  seem  to  be  of  a  nature  that  might  not  be  ex- 
pected as  a  matter  of  course,  under  the  circumstances. 
The  flooding  moonlight  was  so  -weird;  and  the  dotting 
clumps  of  dense,  dwarf  cedars  here  and  there,  along  the 
roadside  and  grouped  in  the  fields  and  crowning  the 
slopes  were  so  uncanny ;  and  the  pike  itself  was  so  un- 
naturally white  and  still  and  silvery  that,  when  one  looked 
up  to  the  deep  softness  of  the  sky  in  which  no  cloud 
could  be  seen,  and  drank  in  the  soft,  sensuous  air  of  a 
warm,  glorious  December  night  peculiar  to  and  yet  rare 
in  the  latitude,  and  all  these  influences  combined  had 
obtained  full  mastery  of  the  senses  the  only  surprise 
possible  at  any  happening  was  that  it  could  be  expected 
to  be  startling. 

But  it  aroused  Tom  like  the  firing  of  a  piece  of  artil- 
lery at  his  sleeping  ear.  He  had  not  been  wrapped  in 
slumber,  but  was  so  buried  in  a  reverie  that  one  seeing  him 
might  readily  suppose  he  had  lost  consciousness.  He 
had  gone  outside  the  line,  perhaps  twenty'  j  ards,  and 
thrown  himself  upon  his  side  in  the  dense  sward  that 
rolled  in  stripes  on  either  hand  along  the  road.  The 
figure  that  thus  displayed  itself,  measuring  the  upward 
swell  of  a  minor  ridge,  was  fuller  and  manlier  than  when 
we  last  saw  it;  and  the  moonlight  made  a  pretty  play  of 
glancing  beams  upon  hia  buttons  and  the  bullion  straps 
upon  his  well-set  shoulders,  and  flashed  up  and  down 
the  length  of  the  sword  that  lay  by  his  side,  from  the 
big  brass  hilt  to  the  shining  tip  of  the  scabbard. 

It  is  tolerably  safe  to  assume  the  subject  of  his  rev- 
erie; since  we  know  that  from  the  April  day  that  he  took 
his  leave  of  Margaret  Henderson  in  the  judge's  parlor  in 


120  god's  war. 

Clayton,  even  though  nearly  two  years  have  passed,  he 
has  had  with  romantic  persistence  but  one  topic  to  dream 
on.  We  may  be  sure  that  the  reverie  oould  not  have  been 
n,  bitter  one,  for  he  was  too  much  of  a  man  to  brood  in 
the  weakness  of  self-pity;  nor  could  it  have  been  a  rap- 
turous delight,  for  he  was  all  too  calm  for  that.  It  had 
for  him  merely  a  soothing  and  lulling  effect,  and  in  that 
respect  was  like  the  moonlight  which  steeped  and  soothed 
the  landscape  and  all  that  thereon  was.  If  he  stopped  to 
analyze  it  he  doubtless  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  was 
a  pleasant  thing  which  served  to  pass  away  the  time  and 
did  no  particular  harm.  But  the  chances  are  that  he 
didn't  stop  to  analyze  his  feeling  at  all;  being  at  the 
time  and  in  that  respect  like  the  pigeon  softly  cooing  in 
the  sunshine  and  neither  knowing  nor  caring  to  know 
why  it  found  life  so  pleasant. 

But  if  Tom  was  a  healthy  young  animal  who  could 
enjoy  the  goods  which  the  gods  provided  without  im- 
pairing his  mental  or  phj'sical  digestion  by  useless  wor- 
rying as  to  the  wh}'s  and  wherefores  and  the  component 
I)art8  of  each  of  his  pleasurable  and  comfortable  sensa- 
tions, he  was  no  less  a  good  soldier;  and  like  a  flash  of 
lightning  he  had  fled  into  the  lines,  after  a  hasty  glance 
toward  the  spot  from  whence  came  the  sound  of  firing, 
and  had  roused  his  reserve  guard  which  he  brought 
tramping  down  to  the  front  with  the  hasty  thud,  thud, 
thud  of  the  double-quick,  and  the  tinkling  sound  of  loose 
pieces  of  metal  upon  the  trailed  pieces  and  the  dull  clash 
of  the  bayonet  against  the  cloth-covered  canteen.  Having 
reached  the  point  where  he  had  been  lying,  held  in  the 
bonds  of  an  idle  dream,  he  halted  his  men  to  decide  upon 
the  next  step. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  captain?"  asked  his 
burly  lieutenant,  coming  up  and  dwarfing  his  superior 
officer — something  as  a  big  sluggish  three-master  in  port 
looms  up  over  the  sentient  little  tug  alongside — only  not 
quite  so  much  so. 

"Tell  off  ten  men  from  the  right,  and  you  stay  here 
with  them.  Keep  them  well  in  hand — I'll  take  the  rest 
and  go  and  see  what  all  that  bobbery's  about." 

"I  Avouldu't,  if  I  was  you,"  replied  the  lieutenant. 
*'It  may  be  just  a  trap  to  catch  you. " 


GOT)'?,  WAR.  121 

"I  don't  care  if  it  is,  I'm  going,  anyhow;"  and  in  a 
moment  he  had  deployed  Lis  men  as  skirmishers  on  each 
side  of  the  pike.  Then  giving  his  orders  in  a  low,  sharp 
tone  he  sung  out  the  commaud  to  movo  forward  at 
double-quick,  and  with  a  wave  of  his  hand  to  his  lieu- 
tenant ho  trotted  off  down  the  center  of  the  pike,  abreast 
of  his  men. 

"Good-by,  Nat!" 

"Good-by,  Tom!  But  this  ain't  no  way — to  leave  me 
here!"  growled  his  subordinate. 

All  this,  of  course,  was  done  in  much  less  time  than  it 
takes  to  tell  it ;  and  from  the  moment  when  the  clatter  of 
hoofs  first  smote  the  ear  down  to  the  time  when  Tom's 
line  of  skirmishers,  flitting  across  the  fields  through  the 
moonlight,  disappearing  in  and  reappearing  from  the 
gloom  of  the  cedar-clumps,  till  they  were  seen  to  move 
more  cautiously  and  the  sound  of  their  footfalls  had 
ceased,  and  they  had,  nearing  the  scene  of  the  firing, 
disappeared  finally,  was  a  very  short  period  indeed.  Nat 
placed  his  men  on  the  sward  by  the  side  of  the  road 
where  they  would  not  be  so  conspicuous  as  on  the  pike, 
and  glancing  up  and  down  his  picket-line  to  see  that  his 
silent  sentries  were  pacing  with  soldierly  regularity  to 
and  fro  on  their  beats,  he  took  his  stand  square  in  the 
center  of  the  pike — the  best  point  from  which  to  keep 
his  lookout. 

Soon  a  solitary  horse  and  rider  were  seen  to  cross  the 
ridge  on  the  further  side  of  which  the  firing  came  from, 
flying,  as  Nat  judged,  right  into  Tom's  hands.  Then  all 
was  qu'iet  for  a  moment,  till  the  flash  of  the  discharge  of 
a  dozen  carbines  embroidered  the  dark  cedars  on  the 
right  with  splashes  of  golden  flame. 

"They've  fired  on  him!"  said  Nat  to  himself  as 
he  drew  his  breath  hard,  between  his  clinched  teeth. 
"Yes,  and  they've  fired  on  the  wrong  man,  by  the  piper 
that  played  before  Moses!"  he  added  grimly,  as  he  heard 
a  shout  and  saw  Tom's  skirmishers  swiftly  climbing  the 
slope  before  them  making  for  the  spot  from  whence  the 
firing  came.  Then  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs  again 
came  to  his  ears,  and  a  steed,  riderless  now,  galloped 
easily  toward  him. 


122  god's  war. 

"Catch  that  horse,  you  fellows,"  he  said,  sterpiug 
aside  to  let  the  creature  pass.  The  firing  became  more 
rapid. 

Spat! 

Spat!     Spat!     Spat! 

Spat!     Spat! 

Spat!     Spatl     Spat!     Spat!     Spat! 

Away  off  in  the  distance  the  clatter  of  hoof  beats,  this 
time  going  rapidly  and  growing  fainter  and  fainter. 

"Aw-haw,  me  laddy-bucks!  I  told  you  you  had  fired 
on  the  Avroijg  man!"  chuckled  Nat.  "Some  o' you  lead 
that  horse  down  the  pike.  Maybe  they'll  need  it.  And 
— by  the  Great  Horn  Spoon!  it's  got  a  side-saddle  on  it! 
Now  how  the  thunder  do  you  s'pose  the  captain  knew  it 
was  a  woman  ?     Great  Cajsar ! ' ' 

There  is  very  little  more  to  tell  of  what  had  happened, 
Tom  had  pushed  his  men,  rapidly  but  carefully,  till  he 
had  reached  the  slope  beyond  which  the  firing  was  going 
on.  Here  he  had  halted  with  a  view  to  a  reconnoissance 
so  that  he  might  not  walk  too  promptly  into  the  trap 
which  Nat  had  suspected.  Before,  however,  he  could 
make  this  reconnoissance,  a  horse  dashed  over  the  ridge 
and  down  the  slope  and  was  caught  by  Tom. 

The  rider  was  a  woman! 

And  a  young  woman,  too. 

She  sat  upon  her  horse  with  the  ease  and  confidence  of 
a  bird  on  a  swinging  twig;  and  her  willowy  form  swayed 
with  the  motion  of  her  steed  as  if  she  were  a  part  of  him. 

"Oh,  sir,  thank  Heaven,  you  have  saved  me!" 

She  spoke  with  gratitude  and  agitation,  and  then  she 
— collapsed — there  is  no  other  word  for  it — and  Tom  had 
to  let  go  of  the  horse,  to  have  his  hands  free  to  catch 
her.     She  had  fainted — apparently. 

Certainly!  I'll  admit  all  you  say.  I'll  go  further,  and 
say  that  if  it  had  been  Sergeant  Heinrich  Heimbach 
(now  standing  ten  feet  off,  grinning  at  the  captain)  who 
had  caught  the  horse  the  chances  are  nine  out  of  ten  that 
she  would  not  have  fainted.  The  sergeant  was  not  a 
handsome  man,  either  as  to  face  or  figure.  He  was  pro- 
nounced in  the  region  of  the  abdomen — very  much  too 
pronounced,  and  his  face  was  not  a  fascinatin^g  one.     It 


god's  war.  123 

justified  Nat,  in  part,  at  least,  who  invariably,  referred  to 
him  as  "that  bottle-nosed  Dutchman."  We  have  seen 
that  Nat  had  a  strange  prejudice  against  anybody  who 
hailed  from  either  Germany  or  Holland — two  countries 
which  were  but  one  on  his  map.  But  Tom  was  a  very 
different  looking  fellow,  as  we  know.  And  when  he 
turned  his  bright,  handsome  face  up,  so  that  the  moon- 
light deepened  a  little  bit  the  young  mustache  which 
shaded  his  lip  while  it  gave  his  eyes  a  glorious  softness 
and  brilliancy — well?  what  could  the  young  woman  do? 
What  could  any  healthy,  well-regulated  young  woman 
do? 

Then,  remember,  she  had  just  escaped  from  a  band  of 
cutthroats  who  had  been  shooting  at  her,  if  the  senses 
were  to  be  believed.     She  was  entirely  right! 

Certainly  Tom  didn't  stop  to  question  the  propriety  of 
the  young  woman's  procedure,  as  he  clasped  the  little 
waist  with  his  arms  and  looked  down  into  the  pale  face 
that  lay  on  his  shoulder.  On  the  contrary  he  felt  a  most 
peculiar  thrill  pass  through  all  of  his  nerves;  not  an  un- 
pleasant, but  an  utterly  unaccustomed  sort  of  a  shock.  The 
perfectly  oval  face  was  pale  and  yet  of  a  pallor  just  a  little 
lighter  than  the  color  of  your  grandmother's  old  ivory 
spool  case.  The  hair  was  black  and  shone  lustrous  in 
the  moonlight.  The  hat  had  fallen  back  and  showed  the 
low,  sweet  brow — and  he  gazed  fascinated  upon  it. 

Have  a  care,  Tom !  It  is  certain  that  the  Serpent  of 
the  Nile  conquered  with  just  such  a  brow. 

And  then,  the  eyes  being  closed,  long,  black  lashes 
shining  like  silk  lay  upon  the  cheek,  and  upon  the  lip 
there  was  the  faintest  suggestion  of  a  mustache — not  too 
much — if  the  lips  beneath  tvere  a  shade  too  full  and  pout- 
ing showing  their  lovely  scarlet  above  the  dainty  chin — 
just  as  if  their  owner  were  not  in  a  dead  faint.  Tom  had 
time  to  see  all  this,  and  more,  for  he  noted  the  curve  of 
the  eyebrows  and  the  perfection  of  the  nose,  which  was 
not  as  straight  as  a  ruled  line,  or  it  wonld  have  been  im- 
perfect, before  the  firing  from  the  cedar  clump  begun. 

"Here,  sergeant,  take  this  girl!  Lay  her  down  on  the 
bank  there  and  sprinkle  some  water  from  your  canteen 
in  her  face!"  and  he  was  gone,  eager  as  a  foxhound, 
with  his  men  up  the  slope. 


124  COD'S   WAR. 

As  the  sergeant  took  holi^  of  the  young  woman,  which 
he  did  very  reluctantly  to  say  truth,  and  with  an  ex- 
pression of  countenance  which  did  not  add  to  the  beauty 
with  which  nature  had  endo^Yed  liini,  the  lon^  black 
lashes  were  raised  a  little  way  and  the  eyes  beneath  stole 
a  glance  at  the  "second  relief,"  as  one  may  say,  and  then 
— well,  then  the  young  woman  recovered  at  once!  And 
before  the  sergeant  could  sprinkle  the  water  in  his  can- 
teen in  her  face  she  had  quietly  walked  to  the  roadside 
and  seated  herself  on  the  bank. 

"Thank  you;  I  am  better  now!" 

And  that  was  fortunate  for  the  water  in  Sergeant 
Heimbach's  canteen  was  stale  beer,  and  not  much  of 
that! 

Tom  was  speedily  back.  He  left  off  the  chase  much 
sooner  than  those  who  knew  him  well  might  have  thought 
he  would ;  but  then  you  can't  iiursue  cavalry  with  in- 
fantry! Besides  he  was  at  every  step  getting  farther  and 
farther  away  from  camp  and  going  in  the  direction  where 
it  was  known  that  Bragg  had  a  large  array — how  large 
no  one  knew.  He  might  indeed  full  into  a  trap.  You 
can't  chase  cavalry  with  infantry  I  repeat,  and  a  cautious 
commander  won't  run  his  men  into  an  unknown  country 
which  may  be  tilled  with  the  enemy ;  and  there  is  no 
good  reason  to  suiipose  that  Tom's  speedy  return  was  at 
all  hastened  by  the  knowledge  that  there  was  a  lovely 
young  girl  waiting  for  him,  perhaps  still  in  a  dead  faint. 

She  was,  hoAvever,  sitting  on  the  bank,  with  Sergeant 
Heinbach  mounting  guard  over  her  as  if  she  were  a  box 
of  hard  bread  or  a  bag  of  coffee.  She  had  apparently 
recovered  her  composure — at  least  so  far  as  it  might  be 
expected  that  a  young  girl,  so  recently  in  such  grave 
peril,  could  recover  in  such  a  short  length  of  time — her 
hat  was  restored  to  its  proper  place  and  her  dress  was  as 
smooth  and  tidy  as  if  she  had  just  attired  herself  for  a 
pleasure  ride  with  her  sweetheart. 

"How  do  you  feel  now?" 

Tom  didn't  know  exactly  how  to  open  up  a  conversa- 
tion., but  thought  this  would  do  as  well  as  anything. 

"Oh,  thank  you,  I'm  ever  so  much  better!  And  how 
grateful  I  am  to  you  for  rescuing  me  from  those  dreadful 
men!     I  can  never  repay  you!"  * 


god's  war.  1^5 

Doubtless  Tom  had  by  this  time  in  his  life  grown  a 
little  bit  conceited  over  his  personal  appearance.  He 
■was  entitled  to  feel  pretty  well  satisfied  with  himself  on 
that  score,  not  only  because  he  was  really  a  handsome 
fellow  but  because  he  was  of  the  proper  age  to  entertain 
such  feelings.  At  all  events  it  was  well  that  the  hat 
brim  shaded  the  young  woman's  eyes  so  that  he  could 
not  see  how  much  of  admiration  for  him  they  were  filled 
with.  He  had  enough  to  do  to  keep  his  face  from  telling 
tales  of  the  influence  of  her  voice  which  vibrated  through 
and  through  his  sensitive  nature,  making  new  music  be- 
sides its  own  tones  like  the  zephyr  playing  on  the  strings 
of  the  harp.  And  when  she  rose  as  he  approached  and 
came  near  to  lay  her  hand  upon  his  arm  in  the  warmth  of 
her  gratitude,  he  thought  it  was  very  absurd  and  pro- 
vokingly  uncalled  for  that  his  whole  being  should  be  so 
filled  Avith  thrills  and  tremors,  ecstatic  as  tbej'  unques- 
tionably were. 

"Oh,  that'sall  right,"  he  replied  awkwardly.  "Don't 
say  a  word."     He  didn't  mean  that. 

"But  I  must!  I  am  afraid  j'ou  dared  a  great  danger 
to  come  out  and  drive  those  awful  men  away  for  me." 

And  she  shuddered  as  she  thought  of  it. 

"Why — why,  I  didn't  do  it  for  you.  I  mean — of 
course  I  would  have  done  it  all  the  same  if  I  had  known 
you  were  here.  But  you  seel  didn't.  I  heard  the  row, 
and  I  came  out  to  see  what  it  was.  But  I'm  glad  if  I've 
been  of  service  to  you." 

"Oh,  sir,  you  have  saved  my  life.  You  have  saved  me 
from  death — perhaps  something  more  dreadful  than  that, 
even,"  she  continued,  in  a  lower  tone,  "/cannot  reward 
you — I  never  could — but  Heaven  certainly  will." 

"That's  all  right" — and  Tom  was  glad  that  her  horse 
came  up  at  that  moment,  for  he  felt  himself  growing 
more  and  more  awkward  every  second. 

"Here's  your  horse.     Shall  I  help  you?" 

"If  you  please." 

"Was  there  ever  a  daintier,  prettier  little  foot  in  the 
world  than  the  one  Tom  held  in  his  hand  for  an  instant 
while  the  young  lady  sprang  into  her  saddle? 

As  the  little  party  pursued  the  way  back  toward  Nash- 


126  god's  war. 

ville,  Tom's  band  on  the  horse's  bit,  the  men,  still  de- 
ployed and  watchful,  following  on  behind,  the  girl  told 
her  story  briefly ;  and  as  Tom  listened  his  soul  seemed 
to  dtink  in  an  intoxication  such  as  one  inhales  at  the 
first  dawn  of  sunrise  when  the  breeze  comes  fresh,  dewj' 
and  odorous  from  the  grass  and  flowers,  and  the  birds 
begin  to  sing  with  a  sweetness  that  they  never  achieve 
at  any  other  hour  of  the  twenty -four. 

Her  name  was  Ethel  Lynde,  she  said.  Her  family 
were  Unionists  living  in  the  mountains  near  Sparta. 
She  had  been  home  from  the  boarding-school  at  Hunts- 
ville  but  a  short  time.  The  Secessionists  had  persecuted 
her  familj' — even  to  the  death  of  some  of  them.  She  had 
stayed  there  till  one  dreadful  night  when  men  came  and 
dragged  her  father  from  his  bed  to  imprison  him.  Her 
mother  had  been  dead  for  some  years — her  only  surviving 
brother  had  escaped  and  she  thought  he  had  joined  the 
Union  army.  She  had  no  one  to  help  or  advise  her.  So 
she  had  saddled  Selira  with  her  own  hands  and  in  three 
daj'S  he  had  borne  her,  stanchly  and  safely,  by  the  de- 
vious course  she  had  to  take  to  reach  Nashville.  She 
owed  her  life  to  brave  old  Selim — and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
noble  horse  understood  what  she  said,  for  he  arched  his 
slender  neck  and  tossed  his  head  and  stepped  more  proud- 
ly as  she  talked.  She  had  ridden  around  Murfreesboro 
where  Bragg  lay  with  his  soldiers,  and  while  she  had 
had  many  narrow  escapes  she  thought  she  had  been  in  no 
real  danger  till  that  evening,  when  a  band  'of  rebels 
had  followed  her  from  Franklin,  and  would  have  caught 
her  but  for  the  brave  and  chivalric  soldier  who  had  come 
to  her  rescue.  She  had  friends  in  Nashville;  good  Union 
people  with  whom  slie  knew  she  would  find  a  home. 

Nat  had  built  a  bright  lire  in  front  of  the  rude  shelter, 
a  "lean-to"  built  of  cedar  branches,  back  to  the  picket 
line  and  face  to  the  city,  which  had  been  erected  therefor 
the  comfort  of  the  picket  guards,  and  the  new  recruit  was 
soon  made  cozy  with  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  and  such  por- 
tions of  a  soldier's  fare  as  seemed  worthy  to  be  offered  to 
a  woman.  While  she  was  eating  Nat  observed  that  Tom's 
left  hand  presented  a  peculiar  a])pearance.  Snatching  it 
he  held  it  toward  the  light  of  the  fire.  It  was  covered 
with  blood!  ^ 


god's  war.  127 

"My  God,  captain,  you're  \vounded!  Why  didn't  you 
tell  us?" 

"I  guess  not,"  replied  Tom.  "Maybe  I  was  hit — but 
I  didn't  feel  it.     I  am  a  little  faint,  Nat." 

The  young  girl  turned  ghastly  pale— and  it  was  well 
that  Nat  was  quick  of  eye  and  arm. 

"Here,  faint  in  ?/;//  arms,  miss!  Don't  you  see  that 
one  of  his  is  wounded?" 

It  was  pleasant,  after  his  moment  of  trance-like  oblivion 
to  lie  at  the  young  girl's  feet  and  listen  to  her  voice  as 
she  talked,  and  finally,  at  daybreak  to  escort  her  to  her 
friends  in  the  citj';  for  his  wound  was  a  trifling  one. 

Later  in  the  day,  while  lying  in  his  quarters  smoking 
his  pipe  it  suddeulj'  occurred  to  Tom  with  a  sensation  of 
surprise  that  he  had  not  once  thought  of  Margaret  Hen- 
derson from  the  moment  that  he  first  heard  the  horse's 
hoofs  the  night  before  up  to  that  hour!  Even  in  his 
moment  of  half-oblivion  it  wasn't  her  face  he  saw  before 
him! 


128  GOD'S   WAR. 


CHAPTER  XIIL 

THE    COMING    AND    GOING    OF    FACES. 

But  it  was  Margai'et  Henderson's  face  which  first  filled 
his  mind's  eye  when  Tom  waked  the  next  morning  from 
a  sound,  healthy  sleep  which  was  in  noway  disturbed  by 
the  slight  scratch  he  had  got  in  his  arm.  And  as  he  lay 
there,  wrapped  in  a  sort  of  luxurious  languor,  half-awake 
and  half-asleep,  when  the  things  of  the  world  seemed  all 
favorable  and  pleasurable,  he  was  sometime  in  coming 
to  the  conclusion,  which  he  finally  reached  however, 
that  Margaret's  features  were  not  so  clear  nor  sharply 
defined  so  to  speak,  as  usual.  Whereat  he  mentally 
rubbed  that  mental  eye  and  looked  again  and  with  a 
greater  concentration  of  his  powers,  but^jWith  no  better 
result.  Still  the  face  seemed  dim  and  indistinct — pro- 
vokingly  so.  Something  was  the  matter,  and  whatever 
it  was  it  must  be  set  right. 

Ah!  The  effort  to  set  it  right  only  aroused  him  more 
fully;  and  as  he  became  wider  awake  Margaret's  pale 
fase  with  its  blue  eyes  and  encircling  crown  of  golden 
hair  was  totally  obscured  by  another  face  of  another 
pallor,  with  darker  eyes  with  silken  lashes  and  encircled 
by  a  crown  of  lustrous  black  hair.  This  new  face  flashed 
into  Tom's  mental  vision  as  the  sun  flashes  into  the 
heavens  in  the  morning;  and  then  the  old  face  could  not 
be  seen  even  after  the  most  careful  searching,  any  more 
than  the  moon  can  be  seen  when  the  full  grandeur  of  the 
newlj'  risen  orb  of  day  has  filled  all  the  sky  and  is  flood- 
ing the  secret  places  of  the  hills  and  valleys  below  with 
a  heated  ardor  which  drinks  up  the  dewdrops  before 
they  have  had  time  to  shoot  more  than  one  brief,  pris- 
matic ray. 

And  then  Tom  was  wide  awake,  and  fully  conscious  of 


GOD'S   "WAR.  129 

every  tiling  of  import  to  hiiuself  in  the  world;  and  bad 
DO  longer  any  excuse  to  lie  nbed,  save  that  by  doing  so 
he  was  enabled  to  reflect  upon  this  new  combination  in 
his  affairs,  much  more  satisfactorily  than  if  ne  had  been 
out  in  the  company  street  where  he  ought  to  have  been 
some  time  ago,  looking  after  the  routine  affairs  of  his 
company  like  a  good  captain  and  a  model  soldier. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  analyze  and  give  a  minute  ac- 
count of  Tom's  reflections  just  then.  Eemember,  he  was 
in  most  respects  more  of  a  man  than  a  boy  and  yet  in 
many  respects  besides  his  age  he  was  much  more  of  a  boy 
than  a  man.  That  there  was  a  struggle  between  a  new 
and  overwhelming  passion  which  had  suddenly  got  hold 
upon  him,  and  a  strongly  assertive  feeling  of  loyalty  to 
the  only  other  passion  of  the  tender  sort  he  had  ever 
known ;  a  struggle  in  which  this  loyalty  which  was  so 
creditable  to  him  was  set  upon  and  beaten  about,  and 
hustled  and  worried  and  whirled  breathlsejsly  by  the  new 
passion,  and  treated  with  no  sort  of  respecu  nor  consider- 
tion  anj'  more  than  if  it  was  the  ghost  of  a  dead  love 
which  had  possessed  Tom  in  a  previous  state  of  existence 
when  his  soul  inhabited  the  bodj'  of  a  holy  Hindoo  living 
in  the  shadow  of  a  Buddhist  temple  as  likely  as  not;  that 
he  reproached  himself  at  one  moment  with  great  acerbity 
and  bitterness  for  a  fickleness  which  he  was  still  unwill- 
ing to  own  to;  and  that  at  the  same  time  he  found  it 
pleasant  to  plunge  from  these  chilb'  breezes  headlong 
into  the  warm  crystal  waves  of  the  new  passion  which 
lapped  the  pebbles  at  his  feet  with  a  music  that  was  more 
enticing  than  that  which  lured  stern  old  Ulysses  and 
gave  no  warning  of  the  white  bones  ■  that  lay  on  the 
nether  side  of  its  seductiveness;  that  he  tried  to  assert 
himself,  and  denounced  himself  and  yet  ivoidd  turn  for 
one  more  look  into  the  eyes  that  were  so  soft  and  yet 
shot  such  sharp  unerring  arrows  straight  into  his  heart; 
that  he  tugged  at  these  shafts  and  sought  to  draw  them 
out,  and  laughed  to  see  that  he  could  not,  loving  so 
much  their  thrilling  sting — and  that  at  last  he  rose  and 
gave  it  up  and  went  to  the  mess  tent  for  his  breakfast 
very  much  put  out  with  himself,  not  having  lived  long 
enough  to  have  learned  the  handy  dodge  of  taking  fate 


130  GOD^S  WAR. 

iuto  consideration  aud  throwing  everything  on  to  the 
liroad  shoulders  of  that  stout  old  party — that  all  this 
took  place  and  Tom  was  much  discomposed  by  it,  I  am 
free  as  his  biographer  in  a  small  way,  to  pledge  to  the 
reader,  -who  will  perhaps  be  glad  to  let  it  go  at  that  and 
uot  ask  for  anything  more- 

He  had  heard  nothing  from  her  since  he  left  her  at  the 
house  of  her  friends  the  previous  morning ;  nor  had  he 
mentioned  her  to  any  one  after  he  had  made  his  report 
to  Lieutenant-Colonel  Miles  Bancroft,  who,  recovered 
from  his  wounds  and  now  upon  the  general  staff,  was 
acting  as  provost-marshal  of  the  city  and  whose  business 
it  was,  as  such,  to  take  cognizance  of  and  find  out  all 
about  the  new  arrivals,  and  especially  those  who  came 
in  under  such  peculiar  circumstances.  He  had  not  used 
manj'  words  in  making  his  report  to  Colonel  Bancroft, 
simpb'  describing  the  little  brush  and  telling  where  he 
had  left  "the  girl,"  in  the  city.  (Ethel  had  timidly 
asked  his  name  and  regiment.  She,  naturallj',  wanted 
to  know  who  and  what  her  preserver  was;  and  Tom  had 
written  his  address  down  ujton  a  leaf  torn  from  an  old 
memorandum  book  and  given  it  to  her.)  Doubtless  Miles 
had  called  on  her  and,  no  one  could  tell,  might  have 
found  her  a  most  dangerous  person,  and  perhaps  had  sent 
her  to  prison.  The  air  was  full  of  all  sorts  of  romantic 
stories  about  lovely  young  women  who  were  serving  the 
Confederacy  as  spies  and  she  might  be  one.  No  one 
could  tell,  because  no  one  knew  so  far  as  Tom's  informa- 
tion went.  Still,  when  he  recalled — recalled?  nonsense! 
when  he  looked  with  his  mind's  eye  at  the  little  girlish 
figure,  and  the  deep,  dark  eyes,  and  not  so  intently  at 
the  scarlet  lips  a  trifle  overfull,  he  could  not  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  think  she  was  anything  but  what  she  said 
she  was. 

Still,  this  is  a  queer  world,  or  Tom  thought  it  was  at 
that  time,  and  no  one  could  tell. 

So,  when  after  breakfast  he  loaded  up  his  briar-wood 
pipe  with  some  genuine  killikiuick  which  he  had 
stumbled  upon  a  few  days  before,  he  sent  for  his  orderly 
sergeant  and  told  him  to  have  the  company  "fall  in" — 
he  would  give  them  an  hour's  drill  by  way  of  warming 


god's  war.  131 

them  up.  And  then  he  stood  at  his  tent  door  idly  watch- 
ing the  men  as  they  came  slowly  forth,  buckling  their 
belts,  or  giving  their  guns  one  more  rub  with  a  piece  of 
oiled  flannel  or  grumbling  in  an  undertone  that  they 
were  trotted  out  so  soon  after  breakfast.  How  did  they 
know,  how  could  they  divine  the  fact  that  Tom  hoped  by 
a  little  brisk  exercise  to  get  his  love  affairs  into  a  more 
satisfactory  shape — ^that  in  point  of  fact  he  considered 
the  conjunction  of  Mars  with  Venus  at  that  particular 
moment  as  a  piece  of  good  fortune,  and  that  by  worship- 
ping at  the  shrine  of  Mars  for  a  little  while  he  hoped  he 
would  be  able  to  give  Venus  the  go-by?  And  would  they 
have  grumbled  any  the  less  if  they  had  known  all  this? 

He  was  just  thinking  to  himself  "Well,  after  all,  why 
not?"  For  he  had  not  seen  Margaret  Henderson  since 
the  April  day  when  he  and  Miles  bade  her  farewell  to- 
gether, and  he  had  no  reason  to  believe  that  she  thought 
anything  of  him  more  than  she  would  think  of  almost 
any  well-conditioned  young  patriot  of  her  acquaintance 
who  was  making  a  target  of  himself  in  order  that  the 
Union  might  be  preserved.  He  had  written  to  her  three 
or  four  times — and  had  received  a  dozen  letters  from  her; 
but  the  fact  is  that  just  before  the  battle  of  Bull  Run  he 
had  written  her  with  an  unmistakable  warmth  and  had 
received  a  reply  so  sisterly,  so  altogether  and  con- 
foundedly sisterly  in  its  tone,  that  he  had  sworn  he 
would  never  write  her  again,  nor  see  her  any  more,  till 
he  could  present  himself  to  her  in  such  growth  of  physi- 
cal manhood  and  crowned  with  such  guerdon  of  brave 
and  manly  deeds  that  she  would  not  dare  to  attempt  to 
treat  his  passipn  as  a  mere  boy's  whim — that  she  would 
be  compelled  to  listen  to  him  and  answer  him  with  re- 
spect and  candor.  He  had  broken  over  this  rule  once  or 
twice  by  writing  her  such  letters  as  any  one  might  write 
to  a  young  lady  friend,  but  he  refused  to  go  back  to 
Clayton  when  the  others  did  at  muster  out,  and  remained 
at  Camp  Chase  till  the  regiment  was  reorganized,  putting 
in  the  time  in  drilling  raw  recruits  for  which  work  he 
was  in  great  demand.  Miles  had  gone  home  with  ii 
glorious  wound — and  had  rejoined  the  arm3''  in  his  new 
position  a  very  blithe  and  well-contented  man;  but  that 


132  god's  war. 

might  have  been  because  he  had  been  made  a  lieutenant- 
colonel;  and  up  to  this  time  Tom  had  contented  himself 
that  that  was  the  explanation  of  Miles'  cheerful  serenity. 
Still,  how  could  he  tell  what  might  have  happened  be- 
tween Margaret  and  Miles  while  he  was  away  ?  Miles 
had  nevar  spoken  to  him  of  Margaret  since  the  day  of 
the  battle  of  Bull  Kun. 

Somehow,  these  points  in  the  case  had  never  seemed 
so  clear  to  Tom  before,  nor  so  weightj'  and  worthy  of 
consideration. 

He  was  just  thinking  "Why  not?"  when  his  big  lieu- 
tenant came  up. 

"Are  you  going  to  drill  the  company  yourself  ?"  asked 
Nat. 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I'm  sorry.  You'd  better  let  me  take  them 
out." 

"Why?     W^hat's  the  matter?" 

"Well — you've  got  a  wound — ■ — " 

"Oh,  pshaw!  You  know  that  don't  amount  to  any- 
thing." 

"Still,  I  don't  think  you've  got  any  call  to  go  galli- 
vanting around  taking  risks.     You  might  take  cold." 

"You  must  be  craz3'. " 

"No,  I'm  not.     I " 

"Oh,  well,  come;  you  overgrown  elephant,  you;  what 
is  it?  Don't  beat  about  the  bush.  Give  me  your  true 
reason ! ' ' 

The  orderly-sergeant  approached  with  his  hand  to  his 
cap. 

"The  company  is  formed,  captain." 

"Very  well,  I'll " 

"Kin  any  of  you  gemmens  tell  me  whar  I  kin  find 
Cappen  Bailey?" 

It  was  a  very  black  and  very  ragged  and  very  bright- 
looking  old  darky,  with  a  small  parcel  rolled  up  in  a 
scrap  of  newspaper  in  his  hand. 

"Well,"  drawled  Nat.  "We  might — for  money. 
Money's  a  cash  article,  old  charcoal,  and  business  is 
business.      How  much  will  you  give?" 

"'Deed,  sah,  I  can't  give  nuffin!     Yah!    Yah!    You'se 


GOD'S   WAR.  133 

makiu'  spote  of  me,  sah!  I'se  uufiSn'  but  a  ole  niggah, 
sah!  I'se  got  a  note  fob  Captain  Bailey,  sah,  from  a 
lady  I" 

"Ah!" 

"I'm  Captain  Bailey,"  said  Tom. 

"Yes,  sab;  yes,  sab!     Thar  it  is,  sah!" 

And  he  unfolded  the  piece  of  newspaper,  as  if  the  iu- 
closure  was  the  most  precious  thing  in  the  world.  He 
took  the  minutest  nip  on  the  corner  of  the  envelope  that 
Avas  possible  with  his  great,  broad,  horny  thumb  and 
forefinger,  and  throwing  off  his  hat  with  a  flourish  and 
a  bow  he  handed  the  missive  to  Tom. 

""Yes,  sah,  yes,  sah!  De  young  lady  tole  me  to  give  it 
to  Cappen  Bailey  hissef,  sah!" 

"The  young  lady?"  queried  Nat  as  he  seated  himself 
on  a  campstool  and  bent  a  quizzical  look  upon  the  darky. 
"A  ?/ow??^  lady?     Pretty?" 

"De  Lawd  didn't  never  make  no  purtier  lady  sence 
Adam  war  a  leetle  boy!"  answered  the  black,  with  round 
emphasis. 

"Humph!"  said  Nat,  looking  at  Tom. 

The  boy,  strangely  enough,  was  irresolute ;  he  scarcely 
knew  whether  to  take  the  note  or  not.  Indeed,  so  far, 
he  had  made  no  move  to  take  it,  and  the  darky  did  not 
seem  to  insist  that  he  should. 

Nat  enjoyed  Tom's  betrayal  of  himself,  while  he  was 
by  no  means  aware  of  the  facts  in  the  case.  He  had  at- 
tached but  little  importance  to  the  advent  of  Miss  Ethel 
upon  the  boards  where  our  characters  are  playing  their 
small  parts,  and  had  so  far  forgotten  the  matter  that  he 
did  not  connect  the  note  nor  Tom's  evident  embarrass- 
ment with  the  dark-eyed  girl  who  galloped  into  the 
picket-post  by  moonlight  to  an  accompanient  of  gun 
firing  and  the  whistling  of  bullets.  He  simply  saw  that 
Tom  was  off  his  balance  for  once  in  a  way  and  he  enjoyed 
the  hot  blush  that  disfigured  the  boy's  face  and  stained 
his  temples  to  the  roots  of  his  hair.  The  poor  goose! 
He  had  lived  so  intensely  during  the  past  twent3'-tive  or 
thirty  hours  that  it  seemed  to  him  as  if  the  whole  world 
must  know  of  his  secret.  He  thought  the  air  was  full 
of  it.     So  he  stood  like  an  idiot,  for  a  moment,  over- 


134  god's  war. 

whelmed  as  if  the  winds  were  blabbing  everything — in- 
cluding his  gigantic  disloyalty  to  a  girl  fvom  whom  he 
had  never  had  a  love  word  or  token ! 

"Yes,  euh!  De  lady  didn't  gimme  nuffin'sah!  Hits 
de  custom  in  disbyer  country  foh  de  gemman  to  'ward 
de  messenger,  sah!" 

"This  acursed  thirst  for  gain!"  groaned  Nat,  as  if  to 
himself.  "This  awful  hungering  for  wealth!  How  it 
lays  its  blighting  power  upon  all.  Even  a  bright  and 
beautiful  being  like  this,  whose  unpolluted  soul,  one 
would  think,  was  incapable  of  such  a  thing !  Great 
Julius  Csesar's  wife's  grandmother!"  he  exclaimed  with 
such  sudden  and  startling  vehemence  that  the  darky 
recoiled  from  him  in  dismay.  "It  is  awful!  But  at  the 
same  time  I  didn't  think  it  was  in  me  to  get  them  words 
out  so  manganiferously !  Don't  give  him  a  cent,  captain. 
Not  onb^  because  base  is  the  slave  who  pays,  you  know, 
but  because  you  owe  it  to  him  to  preserve  him  from  the 
fate  that  rushes  upon  him!  Hey,  there,  you  misguided 
cause  of  the  war,  what's  your  name?" 

"Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy,  sah!"     Tremblingly. 

"Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy?  Well,  now;  that's  a 
right  smart  chance  of  a  name,  ain't  it?  Eeckon  that 
after  your  parents  gave  you  that  name  they  felt  free  to 
divide  the  balance  of  the  family  assets  among  the  rest  of 
the  children,  didn't  they?  Phoebe  Ann!  what  a  name 
to  fill  the  sounding  trump  of " 

"You  is  mistaken,  sah!  My  fadder  an'  mudder  didn* 
gimme  da  name,  sah!  Gin'rl  Hardin' he  done  gimme 
dat  name,  sah!  He's  de  ole  marster  an'  he's  pow'ful 
rich  man,  sah,  he  is!" 

"Liberal  old  cuss  when  it  comes  to  namin'  nigger 
babies,  anyhow!     "What  do  they  call  you  for  short?" 

"'Curg,  sah!" 

"Well,  that's  better  if  a  fellow  hasn't  got  all  day  before 
him.  Now,  'Curg,  have  you  ever  reflected — don'ttouch  it, 
captain,  don't  touch  it,"  cried  Nat  with  affected  concern 
as  Tom  handed  'Curg  a  shinplaster  and  reached  for  the 
letter.  "Don't  touch  it,  I  say!  Its  hoodoo!  Its 
hoodoo!" 

'Curg's  knees  smote  together,  his  jaw  fell,  and  hist  ©yes 


god's  war.  135 

tilled  with  terror  were  fastened  on  Nat's  face  while  in  his 
fright  he  dropped  the  note  on  the  grourid. 

"Yea,  sir,  it's  hoodoo!  It's  hoodoo!  And  this  tremb- 
ling wretch  here,  this  double-dyed  incarnation  of  mid- 
night darkness,  this  old  he-scouudrel  with  the  mangan- 
iferous  name,  he's  a  hoodoo,  too!     I  see  it  in  his  e3'e!" 

"'Fore    God,  massa  cunnel  I " 

"Do  you  pretend  to  tell  me  that  you're  not  a  hoodoo?" 

"'Fore  God,  I  isn't!" 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  j'ou're  not  a  hoodoo,  and 
what's  worse  a  Baptist  hoodoo?" 

"'Deed  I  isn't!  I'se  a  Baptiz — but  I  ain't  no  hoodoo! 
1  didn't  know  denote  was  hoodoo — 'deed  I  didn't!  /'.se 
nuffin*  but  a  pore  ole  niggah,  sah,  an'  I  doan  mean  no 
hahm  to  nobody !     'Deed  I  don't!" 

Meantime  Tom  had  secured  his  message  and  gone 
within  his  tent  to  read  it. 

"Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy,"  said  Nat,  changing  his 
tone  to  one  of  business  negotiation.  "Can  you  cook, 
and  wash  dishes?" 

"'Deed  I  kin!" 

"Can  you  black  boots  and  brush  clothes?  " 

"Deed  I  kin!" 

"Can  you  shave  a  fellow?" 

"Yes,  sah!" 

"Can  you  make  pies?" 

"Yes,  sah!" 

"Out  of  nothing?" 
"Yes— no,  sah!" 

"Are  you  a  liar?" 

"'Deed  I  isn't,  massa  gin'r'l!     'Fore " 

"Can  you  take  care  of  horses?" 

"Yes,  sah!" 

"Would  you  like  to  go  with  the  sogers?" 

"'Deed  I  would!" 

"Do  you  like  to  fight?" 

"No— no,  sah!" 

"Are  you  fond  of  wading  Jin  gore  and  carnage  up  to 
your  eyebrows,  and  do  you  like  to  drink  hot  blood  and 
sigh  for  more?" 

"Oh,  no — massa  gin'r'l,  'deed  I  don't!" 


/36  god's  war. 

"Are  you  fond  of  stalking  godlike  in  the  awful  bell  of 
battle?" 

"I'd  die  firstl" 

"What?  Don't  your  blood  leap  and  thrill  in  your 
veins  when  you  are  summoned  forth  to  scenes  of 
slaughter?" 

"No,  dey  don't — 'deed  dey  don't!" 

"Do  you  think  it's  'sweet  for  your  country  to  die?'  " 

"Gin'r'l,  gin'r'l,  hits  sweeter  to  live!" 

"You're  head's  as  level  as  a  board!  Where  do  you 
hide  things  when  you  steal  'em?" 

"Oh,  gin'r'l,  I  don't  never  steal!" 

"But  you  can  steal  if  you  want  to,  can't  you?  There's 
no  constitutional  infirmity  about  you  to  keep  you  from 
stealing  if  you  want  to,  is  there?" 

"Oh,  gin'r'l,  I  can't  steal!" 

"What?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  if  you  saw  Cap- 
tain Bailey  and  Jigadier-Brindle  Kellogg  (that's  me) 
fainting  and  weak  from  hunger  after  a  long  march,  our 
noble  spirits  drooping  after  an  excessive  waste  of  patriotic 
ardor  over  muddy  roads  and  plowed  fields  in  a  hard  rain 
— do  you  mean  to  say  that  under  such  circumstances  as 
those  you  would  hesitate  about  stealing  a  chicken  or  so 
or  even  a  paltry  pig  or  sheep  wherewith  to  stay  our  wai'- 
like  stomachs  and  build  up  and  refresh  our  heroic  na- 
tures? Pause,  Xerxes!  Pause,  Lycurgus!  Ponder  and 
reflect,  old  man  McCurdy,  for  upon  your  answer  may 
depend  the  outcome  of  this  internecine  struggle!" 

"Oh,  but  dat's  diffrunt!"  cried  'Curg,  grinning, 
"Datch-yers  diffrunt!  Why,  o'  cose,  o'  cose  under  dem 
yer  suckumstances " 

"You  could  steal,  eh?" 

"'Cose  I  could — ^'cose  I  could!" 

"Then  that  settles  it!  Get  in  there  and  go  to  work. 
You  are  cook  and  valet  and  chambermaid  and  liar  and 
barber  and  thief  for  the  officer's  mess  of  Company  'Q.'  " 

"Yes,  sah!" 

"But  there's  one  thing  I  want  to  caution  you  about. 
You  said  you  was  a  Baptist?" 

"Yes,  sah!" 

"There's  where  I  want  to  caution  you!     It's  all  right 


god's  war.  137 

^vhen  you're  washing  shirts  or  performing  your  own 
personal  ablutions,  you  bright  and  beautiful  being!  On 
such  occasions  let  'er  come!  Be  a  Baptist  till  you  can't 
rest,  then !  But  when  it  comes  to  making  coffee  and 
beau  soup,  my  boy,  be  cautious!  Don't  at  such  times 
allow  your  religious  prejudices  to  lead  you  too  far! 
Water's  a  good  thing — but  there  are  times  when  you  can 
get  too  much  of  a  good  thing,  and  I  tell  you — no  matter 
what  you  may  have  been  taught  by  the  gifted  men  who 
have  pointed  out  the  damp  and  heavenly  way  for  you,  I 
tell  you  that  when  it  comes  to  coffee  and  bean  soup  there's 
mighty  little  saving  grace  in  a  superabundance  of  water! 
D'ye  see?" 

"I  onderstau',  sah!" 

"'Tis  well,  then!  Go  to  your  work — and  when  you 
steal  be  discriminating !  Wear  your  rue  with  a  difference ! 
Don't  ever  steal  from  the  officer's  mess  of  Company  'Q. ' 
"We  had  a  noble  j-outh  filling  the  high  and  responsible 
position  to  which  you  have  just  been  called.  He 
cooked  be-3'outifully !  He  was  perfect  but  for  one  thing. 
He  lacked  discrimination  about  stealing.  We  were 
grieved  of  course  when  he  stole  sugar  from  the 
colonel's  mess,  and  were  saddened  when  he  got 
away  with  the  doctor's  whisky,  but  we  bore  up 
under  it;  and  when  we  drank  the  resultant  punch  we 
seemed  somehow  to  gather  consolation  and  hope!  We 
could  not  condemn  him  utterly  for  that  one  venial  fault. 
But  when  he  forgot  to  discriminate  and  begun  to  steal 
from  us,  we  felt  that  the  time  for  action  had  come.  We 
— but  do  you  see  those  buzzards  slowly  circling  through 
the  circumambient  atmosphere?" 

"Yes,  sah!"  with  awe,  inspired  by  Nat's  big  words 
and  pompous  delivery. 

"They  have  risen  from  an  awful  feast!" 

"GoodLawd!" 

"Beneath  the  shadow  of  their  obscene  wings  lie  bleach- 
ing the  bones  of — but  I  will  spare  you  and  myself! 
Brindle  into  that  kitchen  and  get  to  work!" 

But  Mr.  McCurdy  hesitated.  A  moment  ago  he  was 
eager  to  embrace  the  new  avocation  that  presented  itself; 
but  now — now  his  mind  was  filled  with  vague  and  horri- 


138  GOD'S  WAR. 

ble  possibilities.  The  path  into  which  he  was  so  anxious 
to  spring,  had  suddenly  lost  its  brightness.  He  would 
save  himself  before  it  was  too  late. 

"'Deed  I'd  love  to,  Massa  giu'r'l;  but  I  can't!     'Deed 

can  t. 

"Why  not?" 

'"Case  I  'longs  to  Gin'r'l  Hardin',  sah." 

"I  don't  care  who  you  belong  to.  You're  a  free  nig- 
ger now.     Go  ahead!" 

"But  Gin'r'l  Hardin'  he  prizes  me,  he  does!" 

"All  right — if  he  wants  you  he  can  come  and  get  you 
— if  he  can!  Don't  you  understand?  You're  a  free 
nigger,  now!" 

"Free?" 

"Yes,  free.     I'll  see  to  that!" 

The  darky's  eyes  dilated.  He  was  about  to  speak 
when  Tom  came  out  of  the  tent. 

"You  can  drill  the  company,  Nat.  I'lu  going  into  the 
city!" 

'Curg  retired  to  the  tent  that  was  used  for  a  Jjitchen 
whence  soon  came  the  sounds  of  rattling  pots  and  pans 
above  which  rose  the  darky's  voice,  singing  in  a  wild, 
quaint,  uncouth  but  sadly  sweet  melody : 

"  I'se  free!     I'se  free! 
Washed  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb!' 

Nat's  voice  was  heard  down  in  the  company  street — no 
drawl  now — giving  sharp,  peremptory  orders,  and  Tom 
lifting  the  tent  flap  passed  within.  Taking  off  his  sword 
he  threw  himself  upon  his  cot  to  read  again  his  missive. 
It  was  written  in  the  cultivated  hand  of  an  educated 
woman — the  great,  slender,  sprawling,  angular  characters 
that  had,  before  that  day,  set  men's  hearts  to  beating — 
the  hearts  of  men  who  were  older  and  wiser  than  Tom. 
"Captain  Thomas  Bailky, 

"Twenty-first  Ohio  Eegiuient : 

"Does  it  seem  indelicate  that  the  little  girl  whom  you 
rescued  from  such  an  awful  fate,  should  wish  to  see  and 
thank  her  preserver  once  more,  or  presumptuous  that 
she  should  write  to  him  to  solicit  him  to  call  upon 
her  that  she  may  have  the  opportunity  to  do  so?    I  sin- 


god's  war.  130 

cerely  hope  not.  For  I  do  not  wish  to  overstep  the 
bounds  of  maidenly'  modesty  and  pi'oper  decorum,  and 
yet  I  feel  that  I  must  see  you  once  more.  It  is  said  that 
you  will  soon  go  to  Murfreesboro  to  fight  General  Bragg. 
When  I  think  of  what  may  happen  then,  that  I  may  never 
see  you  again,  I  feel  that  I  need  no  other  excuse  for  thus 
addressing  you.  Besides,  I  am  very  lonely  here. 
"Sincerely  and  gratefully, 

"Ethel  Lynde.  " 

Be  it  remembered,  that  Captain  Thomas  Bailey,  although 
he  had  won  much  renown  already  as  a  fighter,  was  still 
but  a  lad  of  nineteen.  It  makes  no  difiference  what  the 
effect  of  such  a  note  received  under  such  circumstances 
would  have  been  upon  you.  Perhaps  it  had  quite  a 
different  effect  upon  Tom.  At  all  events  he  spent  half 
an  hour  in  reading  and  rereading  it. 

Then  he  made  a  discovery ;  the  which  he  mentally 
contemplated  for  at  least  ten  minutes,  with  a  great  deal 
of  pleasure  and  inward  satisfaction,  namely,  that  if  he 
h:id  thought  that  he  loved  Margaret  he  had  never  told 
her  so,  and  thus  was  free  from  the  imputation  of  disloy- 
alty. Then  he  put  the  note  away,  very  carefully,  in  the 
inside  pocket  of  his  waistcoat,  on  the  left  side.  And  the 
simple  fact  of  its  presence  there  increased  his  feeling  of 
satisfaction ;  at  least  he  chose  to  assume  that  it  did ; 
which  amounted  to  the  same  thing. 

Then  he  buttoned  his  coat  up  to  his  chin,  and  started 
off  to  the  city.  Just  as  he  left  the  camp  he  heard  Nat 
cry  out  to  the  company  on  the  parade  ground,  "Great 
Julius  Caesar!  The  Home  Guards  would  do  better  than 
that!"  and  he  smiled  to  think  how  the  boys  would  squirm 
under  the  rebuke — the  severest  that  could  possibly  have 
been  employed. 


140  god's  war. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SETTING  THE  BATTLE  FRONT. 

The  column  moved  slowly  aud  cautiously,  with  frequent 
halts  and  long  tedious  waits,  occasioned  by  the  general 
sending  back  word  every  little  while  that  evei'ything 
must  be  kept  in  instant  readiness  for  going  into  action 
"as  the  enemy  are  evidentb'  advancing  en  mo.««e."' 

The  pike  was  filled  as  far  back  as  the  eye  could  reach 
with  infantry  and  artillery,  and  wagons  loaded  with  camp 
equipage,  rations  and  an- munition,  all  moving  slowly  for 
perhaps  fifteen  minutes  out  of  every  sixty  and  waiting 
wearily  for  the  other  forty-five.  On  the  flanks  occasional 
glimpses  could  be  had  of  cavalry  dashing  here  and  there, 
and  once  in  awhile  the  muffled  sound  of  musketry  firing 
by  small  squads  could  be  heard.  Much  leas  often  the 
cottony  boom  of  a  piece  of  artillery  would  fall  upon  the 
ear — the  sound  gathering  softness  as  it  travei'sed  the 
miles  from  where  the  gun  spit  out  its  spiteful  flames  and 
ringing  roar.  Once  in  awhile  the  troops  would  be  sum- 
moned to  throw  down  a  fence  and  tramp  for  a  mile  or  two 
in  hot  haste  in  soft,  moist  soil,  through  thick  woods  and 
over  the  brown  slopes;  and  then,  having  got  no  one  knew 
where,  they  would  retrace  their  steps  with  much  grumb- 
ling and  swearing  back  to  the  'pike;  or  perhaps  would 
take  up  a  new  position  in  a  "dirt  road,"  where  the  men 
could  boil  coffee  and  exchange  jokes  with  the  peculiar 
persons  who  drove  mule-teams — a  class  sui  generu,  un- 
questionably. 

During  a  prolonged  halt,  a  rather  heavy  firing  going  on 
the  while  at  the  front  on  the  extreme  left,  a  regiment  of 
cavalry  came  pounding  and  clinking  up  from  the  rear. 
The  road  ran  for  some  distance  through  a  cut,  and  as  it  was 


GOD'S   WAR.  141 

filled  with  troops  aud  canuou  and  M'agoiis,  the  borsemen 
galloped  and  trotted  along  through  the  adjacent  field. 
In  the  cut  the  men  had  gathered  in  groups;  some  around 
small  fires  on  which  they  were  boiling  coffee  and  before 
which  they  broiled  their  strips  of  bacon  on  the  end  of 
long  sticks  or  the  steel  rammers  of  their  muskets — and 
the  air  was  full  of  the  sharp,  delicate  odor  of  cedar  rails 
burning;  some  stood  erect  in  the  road  as  if  expecting 
momentarily  the  order  to  fall  in  and  double-quick  to  the 
scene  of  the  firing;  others,  with  their  knapsacks  under 
their  heads  lay  on  their  broad  backs  regardless  of  the 
dampness  of  the  ground,  smoking  their  pipes  thought- 
fully ;  a  few  having  climbed  to  the  top  of  the  cut  indulged 
in  sarcastic  comments  on  the  "creeter  compauj'"  in 
which  the  ungraceful  rider  was  asked  "Why  don't  ye 
git  a  string  and  tie  yerself  on,  sonny?"  and  the  swag- 
gering, dashing,  valiant  fellow  was  told  of  the  standing 
reward  offered  for  the  man  who  had  ever  laid  eyes  on  a 
dead  cavalryman,  or  a  defunct  mule ;  to  which  the  horse- 
men, you  may  be  sure,  were  not  slow  to  give  reply  in 
kind. 

Given,  six  mules  to  a  wagon,  hitched  together  more  or 
less  closely  and  with  a  competent  driver — competent  to 
drive  mules,  mind  you — and  you  have  a  variety  of  talent 
in  a  small  space,  such  as  may  not  easily  be  equalled 
under  other  circumstances. 

For  an  hour  perhaps,  the  six  long-eared  creatures 
would  stand  quietly  like  so  many  philosophers,  statuesque 
and  serene,  while  the  gifted  being  who  guided  their 
destinies  for  thirteen  dollars  a  month,  rations  and  clothing, 
slumbered  peacefully  by  the  roadside  upon  a  saddle- 
blanket,  or  exchanged  refined  amenities  with  his  fellow- 
drivers  over  a  pipe,  a  surreptitious  canteen  of  commissary 
whisky  or  a  game  of  cards.  Then  all  at  once  Satan 
would  enter  into  the  mules  to  try  conclusions  with  his 
usually  more  than  peer,  the  driver.  Each  several  and 
distinct  mule,  fully  impressed  that  his  great  patron  and 
exemplar  from  below  had  honored  him  with  his  sole  and 
exclusive  company,  would  testify  his  appreciation  of  the 
additional  mulishness  thus  acquired  by  kickings  and 
^quallings  and  hee-haws,  which  to  the  uninitiated  would 


142  god\s  war. 

seem  to  have  their  spring  in  nothing  at  all  under  the 
sun.  In  course  of  time  unutterable  exaltation  to  the 
mules  would  be  attained — this  happening  when  they  had 
involved  themselves  in  an  inextricable  snarl,  with  per- 
haps one  or  two  of  their  number  prone  in  the  mud. 
That  they  esteemed  this  state  of  things  to  be  blissful 
could  easily  be  told  by  the  expression  with  which  they 
eyed  the  gifted  being  as  he  approached  to  untangle 
them. 

Then  the  soft  and  gentle  breezes  would  bear  upon  their 
odorous  wings  fragments  of  strange  and  strong  and 
concentrated  remarks,  as  the  teamster  communed  with 
himself  upon  the  topic  most  readily  suggestive;  in  time, 
it  were  safe  to  say,  if  a  breeze  of  sufficient  body  to  bear 
the  weight  came  booming  along,  a  volume  of  straight, 
clear  and  resonant  profauitj'  would  go  roaring  and  swell- 
ing down  the  pike — in  its  83'mmetrical  and  well  sustained 
and  almost  artistic  proportions  as  far  above  the  broken 
ejaculatory  character  of  the  opening  observations  of  the 
teamster  as  the  roar  of  a  corps  d'arme  fully  engaged 
with  the  enemy  is  superior  to  the  spatting  and  cracking 
of  muskets  in  a  skirmish  at  a  picket  post. 

In  other  branches  of  high  art  "some  are  born  great, 
some  achieve  greatness  and  others  have  greatness  thrust 
upon  them."  In  this  particular  branch — the  driving  of 
army  mules — the  successful  man  is  born  great.  No  train- 
ing will  suffice  to  make  him  competent;  though  the  zeal 
of  madness  fill  his  soul  he  cannot  reach  perfection;  and 
sooner  or  later  the  pitying,  patronizing  admonition  of 
the  noble  being  predestined  to  the  work,  "You  have 
mistaken  your  avocation!  You  hain't  got  the  hang  of 
the  language  and  never  will  git  it!  Your  blood  hain't 
rich  enough!  You  were  born  for  to  be  a  chaplain!" 
bitter  and  stinging  as  it  is  at  first,  must  come  to  be  ac- 
cepted;  and  the  too-daring  aspirant  must  yield  to  a 
fate  which  molds  him  with  its  iron  hands  and  sink  to 
his  place  among  men  of  common  clay. 

But  there  are  degrees  of  excellence  even  among  those 
who  are  born  great ;  and  as  the  regiment  of  cavalry  passed 
by,  the  acknowledged  first  artist  in  the  brigade  sat 
smoking,  solitary,  as  became  his  rank,  on  the  bank  beside 


god's  war.  143 

his  team.  When  Satau  came  seeking  mules  to  amuse, 
he  took  the  team  iu  front — whether  he  felt  ami  acknowl- 
ecltjeci  the  champion's  superiority  or  riot,  is  not  material. 
The  usual  kicking  and  squealing  and  hee-hawing  resulted 
iu  the  overthrow  of  a  small  but  particularly  tough  old 
mule,  with  an  entanglement  of  harness  that  was  not  at 
first  apparent  in  all  its  diabolical  perfection  to  the  half- 
awakened  driver,  suddenly  aroused  by  the  noise.  The 
champion,  long,  thin,  dark,  hook-nosed  and  small-eyed, 
sat  beneath  his  great,  broad-brimmed  wool-hat,  smoking 
and  calmly  watching  and  listening. 

Patiently,  and  with  manly  self-restraint  the  forward 
driver  strove  to  release  his  fallen  mule.'  Only  occasion- 
ally did  he  pause  to  give  expression  to  his  feelings;  and 
then  he  did  it  in  a  half-finished  way,  like  a  man  who 
felt  that  the  job  was  not  so  gigantic  after  all — not  one 
which  demanded  that  he  should  put  forth  more  than  a 
part  of  his  vast  energies.  And  the  mule  lay  quietly.  It 
was  a  matter  not  vitally  important  to  him — at  least 
as  yet.  His  companions  drooped  their  heads  and  seemed 
half-asleep;  also  unconcerned  and  placid  to  the  hasty 
observer.  It  was  only  when  the  twinkle  in  their  half- 
shut  eyes  betrayed  them  that  one  could  be  brought  to 
believe  that  they  were  not  asleep  indeed. 

The  driver  stayed  his  hand,  and  sat  him  down  while 
he  spoke  in  tones  of — well,  say  hopeful  sadness.  Then 
he  remained  silent  for  a  moment. 

Then  he  went  at  his  work  again  with  renewed  deter- 
mination and  fresh  cheerfulness.  And  his  determination 
deepened  and  grew  fiercer  iu  its  demonstration  minute 
by  minute,  while  his  cheerfulness  melted  gradually  away 
like  the  fleecy  cloud  on  a  blue,  summer  sky. 

Then  he  rested  again — but  not  so  calmly  as  before. 
He  wiped  the  perspiration  from  his  brow  with  the  back  of 
his  hand,  while  he  gazed  with  steadfast  eye  upon  the 
tranquil  mule.  There  was  a  dark  threatening  in  his  eye, 
and — and  the  mule  knew  it.  I  don't  know  how  he  knew 
it — but  he  did ;  and  he  remained  only  more,  and  more 
provokingly,  tranquil. 

The  struggle  recommenced — the  struggle  of  the  noble 
reasoning  man   with  the  perverse  and  twisted,  insensate 


144  GOD'S  WAR. 

and  obstinate  gearing.  At  last  a  ray  of  light  appeared! 
A  buckle  loosened  here — a  chain  untwisted  there,  a  lift 
and  a  pull,  a  groan  and  an  improper  remark  in  a  sup- 
pressed tone,  and,  aha!  victory  is  at  hand! 

This  M'as  the  moment  the  mule  had  waited  for  so 
tranquilly.  The  time  had  come,  and  with  a  frantic 
wriggling,  well  calculated  to  deceive  (as  it  seemed  like 
an  effort  to  get  his  fore-feet  under  him  so  that  he  might 
rise),  he  brouglit  his  great  hammer  head  with  all  the 
force  of  his  tough  old  neck  straight  up  and  into  the  eye 
and  cheek  bone  of  the  buoyant  being  bending  over  him 
and  hurled  him  back,  shrieking  and  writhing  with  pain. 

Ah !  then  was  displayed  the  resources  of  a  mule-driver's 
soul!  Then  came  a  revelation  of  a  vocabulary  such  as 
would  have  paralyzed  the  enthusiasm  of  the  father  of  all 
the  lexicographers!  Then  he  that  spoke  the  English 
language  with  pride  in  its  variety  and  elasticity  might 
well  felicitate  himself  upon  a  new  discovery  of  richness 
and  fecundity  theretofore  undreamed  of! 

The  bright  and  gifted  ones  in  charge  of  adjacent  teams 
gathered  and  stood  about  in  proud  envy  as  they  listened 
to  the  comrade  who,  with  his  hand  to  his  eye  writhed 
and  stamped  upon  the  ground,  and  bent  his  body  and 
foamed  at  the  mouth  with  an  utterance  of  novel  and 
unparalleled  magnificence.  And  glances  were  cast  at  the 
great  champion  himself,  as  if  to  ask  whether  he  realized 
that  his  own  hitherto  unchallenged  supremacy  was 
threatened. 

But  that  superior  person  smoked  on  imperturbably, 
calmly  regarding  the  suffering  and  struggling  man  with 
the  air  of  a  fair  but  experienced  and  thoroughly  compe- 
tent critic.  At  last  as  the  paroxyzms  subsided  and  the 
hazy  blue  of  the  atmosphere  cleared  awaj'  a  little,  he 
removed  his  pipe  and  quietly  said,  as  who  should'  pro- 
nounce an  impartial  and  yet  discriminating  verdict: 

"Them  words,  Jeems,  is  all  right,  in  fact  be-you-tiful! 
But  the  tone,"  as  with  a  shake  of  the  head  he  knocked 
the  ashes  out  of  his  pipe  and  rose  to  saunter  away,  "the 
tone  of  voice  is  a — le-e-e-tle  too  low!" 

And  the  pain  of  the  bruised  one  was  not  alleviated  but 
added  to  by  the  consciousness  that  spite  of  his  splendid 


god's  war.  145 

spurt  be  had  not  even  succeeded  in  collaring  the  chain - 
piou.  And  his  comrades,  round  about,  who  had  listened 
and  looked  with  such  interest,  turned  thein  one  and  all 
carelessly  away  and  left  him  as  men  always  leave  the 
unsuccessful  one,  without  pity  or  sympathy. 

And  the  mule?  Was  he  radiant? 

Your  question  shows  that  you  are  all  acquainted  with 
mule  character.  The  mule  weak  enough  to  show  a  sign 
of  gratification  at  such  a  time  were  unworthy  of  his 
ears. 

In  his  attitude  and  expression  the  mule  gave  evidence 
of  the  possession  of  powers  of  self-repression  and  self- 
restraint  such  as  the  most  polished  man  of  the  world 
might  envy.  It  was  the  refinement  of  high  ai't.  Every 
line  in  his  pose,  the  humble  droop  to  the  tail,  the  half- 
closed  eye,  the  sad,  abstracted  expression  of  his  face, 
even  the  careless  half-neglige  of  the  disarrangement  of 
his  ears — every  one  of  these  things  was  a  study! 

He  Avas  as  meek  as  Moses. 

For  two  days,  namely  the  26th  and  27th  of  December, 

the  story  was  the  same. 

Weary  delays  beneath  a  leaden  sky,  under  orders  which 
contemplated  such  exigence  of  heavy  work  with  the 
enemy  circling  fiercely  and  vigilantly  around  that  no  at- 
tempt to  take  comfort  could  be  made;  sudden  and  hot 
rushes  through  and  over  a  country  that  was  soft  and 
muddy  where  it  was  not  rocky  and  tangled — sorties  that 
might  have  been  better  borne  if  they  had  resulted  in 
anything  more  satisfactory  than  a  harmless  volley  at  the 
tails  of  a  scurrying  and  disappearing  handful  of  butternut- 
clothed  horsemen — 'longer  waitings  in  the  ankle-deep 
mud;  and  then  hours  of  pulling  and  prying  and  tugging 
and  shouting  to  release  wagons  or  cannon  from  miry  pits 
or  to  put  them  over  precipices  and  stretches  of  jagged 
stone  in  the  country  roads  so  rough  that  even  birds 
couldn't  fly  over  them  with  any  comfort.  At  night  to 
halt,  so  late  that  selection  of  the  better  places  to  rest  the 
body  in  was  impossible,  so  that  one  was  as  likely  to  seek 
the  semblance  of  comfort  in  a  mudhole  or  on  a  ridge  of 
outcropping  rock  as  on  a  spot  where  the  tough  hide  of  a 


146  GOD'S   WAR. 

rhinoceros  would  find  nothins:  to  object  to;  and  to  He 
there  without  tent  or  shelter  through  the  cold  raw  night 
sleeping  with  one  eye  open  and  a  sense  of  utter  inse- 
curity. Happy  the  comuuiud  encamped  in  a  cornfield 
where  the  furrows  afforded  a  bed  out  of  which  one  could 
not  well  fall  or  roll ;  even  if  the  furrow  should  become  a 
raging  torrent  during  the  sweet  and  subtle  mystery  of 
the  silent,  brooding  night! 

Kain  on  Friday  the  2Gth  and  rain  on  Saturday  the  27th 
steadily  pouring  down,  cold  and  peneti'ating  and  persist- 
ent, till  the  pikes  became  rivulets  of  gray  water  and  the 
"dirt  roads"  became  long  channels  of  swimming  mud, 
and  the  man  who  essayed  to  cross  the  open  field  lifted  a 
ton  of  soil  with  every  step ;  and  rain  again  all  day  Sun- 
day, when  a  halt  was  made  out  of  respect  for  the  day, 
and  the  soldiers  instead  of  moving  around  drippingly 
were  ])ermitted  to  lie  about  and  soak.  Everything  satu- 
rated; the  crackers  a  pulp;  the  bacon  slimy;  coffee  beans 
soft,  swollen  and  spongy;  sugar,  very  thin  molasses,  and 
salt  a  villainously  weak  brine;  the  woolen  blankets 
absorbing  a  barrel  of  water  each;  the  rubber  blanket  as 
cheerfully  comforting  as  the  cool  moisture  of  a  clinging 
snake;  the  whiskj',  even,  revolting  and  sickening — 
because  it  tasted  so  strongly  of  water;  shoes,  contract 
shoes,  God  forgive  them  who  made  them  for  the  poor 
fellows  to  wear — no;  I  don't  mean  that — I  hope  He  won't 
forgive  them ! — shoes  as  spongy  and  porous  and  sodden 
as  rotten  basswood  bark,  and  falling  to  pieces  amid  grim 
ie^ts  as  to  the  mistake  that  was  made  in  issuing  them  to 
infantry  when  they  were  clearly  intended  for  cavalry; 
everything  cold  and  wet  and  cheerless  from  the  blue, 
shivering  lips  down  to  the  cramped  and  benumbed  toes 
— everything  except  the  cartridges  and  the  chambers  and 
locks  of  the  rifles  and  the  jokes  with  which  unsurpassed 
and  patient  heroism  wiled  the  time  away.  There  was 
not  even  excitement  enough  to  warm  the  men  up  and 
keep  down  the  infernal  shivers  that  ran  through  the  sys- 
tem like  an  ague  chill. 

Monday  morning,  however,  showed  better.  That  is, 
the  fighting  of  the  advance  and  on  the  flanks  was  more 
frequent   and   interesting   and   gave   better  promise  of 


god's  war.  147 

warmer  work  for  all.  As  the  army  neared  Murfreesborn, 
moving  cautiously  and  like  a  great  troop  of  ghosty 
through  the  fog,  the  men  involuntarily  got  nearer  to- 
gether and  carried  their  jiieces  \vith  a  lirmer  grip  and 
out  of  the  wonderfully  mysterious  depths  of  man's  divine 
and  inexhaustible  elasticity  they  gathered  a  strength  that 
certainly  neither  nourishment  nor  comfort  had  given 
them.  And  Monday'  night  found  the  whole  army  save 
the  right  wing,  McCook's  command,  within  three  miles 
of  Murfreesboro.  The  right  wing,  detained  by  fogs,  and 
bad  roads  and  a  more  persistent  opposition  from  the 
enemy,  was  a  few  miles  farther  back  to  the  right  and 
rear. 

Silently,  and  feeling  their  way  with  their  hands,  as  it 
were,  the  troops  found  their  alignment,  and  with  but 
little  discussion  of  what  daylight  might  bring,  laid  them 
once  more  down,  chilled  and  wear3',  to  sleep.  On  Tues- 
day McCook  came  up,  pushing  from  the  right  rear  till 
his  line,  running  in  a  southwesterly  direction,  was  at 
almost  right  angles  with  the  line  of  the  center  of 
the  army,  which  faced  more  to  the  south;  and  the  sound 
of  his  steadily  advancing  guns  throughout  the  entire  day 
was  listened  to  almost  enviously  by  the  men  of  the  left 
and  center  who  might  have  fairly  owned  that  they  feared 
their  comrades  of  the  right  wing  would  bear  away  all  the 
honors  of  the  campaign. 

After  all,  McCook  with  bis  troops,  almost  constantly 
in  motion  and  coming  almost  hourly  in  contact  with  the 
enemy,  by  which  they  were  kept  warm  and  active,  had 
by  far  the  easier  task.  Under  the  most  favorable  cir- 
cumstances and  meteorological  conditions  it  is  harder  for 
brave  men  to  stand  inert  while  their  companions  near  by 
are  fighting  than  it  is  to  fight.  Then,  there  is  nothing- 
more  wearing  upon  nerves,  temper  and  courage  itself 
than  to  be  held  with  your  enemy  in  full  view,  prepared 
for  and  anticipating  battle  at  every  moment,  and  yet  to 
be  restrained — with  an  occasional  shot  or  two  on  the 
skirmish-line  and  once  in  awhile  the  sight  of  a  wounded 
or  dead  man  brought  back  from  the  front.  At  such 
times  one  has  to  contemplate  the  grimmest,  coldest, 
harshest  features  of  war,  and  to  do  it  with  calmly  flowing 


148  god's  war. 

blood :,  and  I  know  of  nothing  in  the  -world  that  will  test 
the  manhood  of  a  soldier  like  this.  In  the  heat  and  noise 
and  excitement  of  the  actual  conflict  men  are  carried 
along  on  the  full  bosom  of  a  sweeping  and  irresistible 
tide  which  sustains  while  it  whirls  them  on;  in  the  other 
case  they  breast  a  cold  and  deadly  current  which  con- 
stantly weakens  them  and  strives  to  suck  tliera  under. 

When  the  men  of  the  left  and  center  lay  down  in  the 
mud  for  such  repose  as  they  might  be  able  to  get,  on  the 
night  of  the  30th,  they  were  not  permitted  to  even  strike 
a  match,  lest  they  should  betray  their  position.  Over 
on  the  right,  however,  where  it  was  desired  to  deceive 
the  enemy,  fires  were  built  away  beyond  the  real  flank. 

And  whatever  may  have  been  the  theories  and  guesses 
and  surmises  and  hopes  and  fears  of  the  soldiers  of  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland  up  to  that  hour,  speculation 
then  came  to  an  end;  and  every  man,  from  the  general 
in  command  down  to  the  hook-nosed  teamster,  knew  that 
daylight  would  bring  with  it  an  awful  struggle — if  indeed 
a  night  attack  did  not  precipitate  it  sooner. 

"It's  my  private  opinion  publiclj'  expressed,"  said 
Nat  to  Tom  that  night,  as  they  lay  shivering,  belted  and 
booted  as  all  were  sleeping  on  their  arms,  of  course;  "it's 
my  private  opinion,  publicly  expressed,  that  if  they  don't 
cut  old  John  F.  loose  to-morrow  morning  and  let  him 
fight,  he'll  sail  out  o'  here  on  his  own  hook  and  give  'em 
a  whirl  just  for  luck!" 

"Why?     W' hat's  the  matter  with  John  F.  ?" 

"Well,  I've  been  keeping,  my  eye  on  him  all  Hay,  and 
I  tell  you  he  means  business!" 

"Of  course  he  does.  We  all  mean  business.  That's 
what  we're  here  for.     Did  you  think  it  was  a  picnic?" 

"Not  much!  But  John  F,  means  business  rather  more 
than  some  other  fellows  around  here  I  tell  you." 

"Well,  that's  all  right.     That's  what  we  want." 

"Have  you  seen  him  going  up  and  down  the  lines  to- 
day on  that  bay  horse?" 

"Yes,  I've  noticed  him." 

"That  horse  is  a  thoroughbred — and  so's  John  F. 
They've  been  looking  this  thing  over  together  to-day  and 


god's  war.  149 

what  they  don't  know  about  things  aorund  here  ain't 
•worth  knowing.  I  tell  you  John  F.  can  see  with  them 
eyes!  He  can  see  as  far  and  as  quick  with  them  eyes  as 
any  man  can  with  a  fieldglass!  And  the  horse — he  don't 
have  to  look!  All  he's  got  to  do  is  just  to  brindle  around 
and  when  John  F.  sees  anything  why  the  horse  sees  it — 
knows  it  without  seeing — they've  got  a  fellow  feeling,  ye 
see' — sort  o'  brothers!" 

"Well,  that's  a  compliment  for  John  F. !" 

"Of  course  it  is !  Why,  I  tell  you  there's  more  brother- 
hood— more  relationship — kin — whatever  you  call  it,  be- 
tween a  good  njan  and  a  good  horse  than  there  is  between 
a  good  man  and  many  a  fellow  I  know  of." 

"Yes,  I  believe  that  too.  But  you  don't  think  John  F. 
would  fight  without  orders,  do  you?" 

"Oh,  no!  I  was  joking  about  that — I  only  meant  that 
he  is  loaded  and  he's  increasing  the  charge  every  minute. 
He's  come  down  here  to  fight,  you  know,  and  he  thinks 
he'll  have  a  chance  jiretty  soon,  and  it  kind  o'  makea 
him  hump  himself  around,  ye  see.  No — I  don't  think 
he  has  any  idea  of  fighting  without  orders,  but  if  he  has, 
why  I'm  his  huckleberry — he  can  count  on  me  every 
time!" 

"Yes,  somehow  all  the  boys  seem  to  have  that  same 
sort  of  faith  in  him." 

"Faith  in  him?  Of  course  they  have!  John  F. 's  all 
right!  He  don't  have  any  velvet  facings  on  his  coat, 
nor  his  staff  don't  wear  no  white  breeches  on  review,  but 
he's  business  all  the  same!" 

And  Nat.  slipping  down  a  little  so  that  the  out-crop- 
ping rock  which  had  been  pressing  his  hip  joint  till  it 
was  bruised  was  adjusted  into  the  soft  place  just  above, 
where  it  fitted  better,  and  putting  his  hand  between  his 
face  and  the  canteen  which  served  him  for  a  pillow,  fell 
asleep. 

How  long  the  night  was,  and  yet  how  short!  To  those 
who  watched,  thinking  till  their  brains  grew  hot  and 
painful  and  striving  to  foresee  what  the  morning,  the 
dreadful  to-morrow,  would  bring  them,  balancing  all  the 
chances  and  the  probabilities   with  thoughts  of  wives 


150  god's  war. 

aud  children  and  their  future  in  a,  certain  awful  contin- 
gency; to  these  the  night  \Yhich  njeasured  their  suspense 
was  long — drearily  and  wearily  long. 

Does  any  one  know,  save  the  man  who  leaves  wife  and 
children  and  puts  their  future  comfort  and  well  being  in 
the  scale  along  with  his  own  life  for  his  country,  does 
any  one  else  know  what  patriotism  is?  From  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  happy  homes  in  this  land  went  men  to 
offer  their  lives  for  the  preservation  of  the  Union,  men 
who  loved  their  wives  and  their  little  ones  as  dearly  as 
men  could  love;  and  they  went,  knowing  that  while  they 
lived  and  the  war  lasted,  their  families,  these  dear  ones, 
would  be  pinched  and  depri  'ed  upon  their  small  wages; 
while  if  their  lives  were  lost,  suffering,  such  as  would 
drive  to  madness  to  think  of,  would  come  to  them.  The 
fond  and  loving  wife  would  be  compelled  to  hardest  toil, 
perhaps  far  beyond  her  strength,  and  find  an  early  grave 
worn  out  in  a  struggle  to  maintain  and  educate  the 
golden-haired  girl  and  the  brown-eyed  boy  whose  pictures 
shone  ever  before  the  father's  eyes.  How  could  he  tell? 
Might  not  they  become  outcasts  and  beggars  before  the 
time  came  that  they  could  work  and  earn  their  own 
living? 

In  the  man  who  went  into  the  army  without  ties  of  this 
sort,  or  the  man  who  knew  that  if  he  fell  his  loved  ones 
were  provided  for,  it  was  still  a  grand  and  noble  and 
heroic  thing!  But  what  was  it  in  the  case  of  the  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  who  risked  so  much  more  than  their 
own  lives;  but  who  never  x^ermitted  themselves  to  meas- 
ure the  two  duties — to  imagine  for  a  moment  that  loyalty 
to  their  country  could  perhaps  be  treason  to  their  fam- 
ilies? And  what  strength  it  must  have  taken  to  enable  a 
warm-hearted  loving  husband  and  lather  to  resist  the 
temptation  to  believe  that  the  claims  of  his  dear  ones 
came  first!  It  is  only  when  we  make  an  estimate  of  this 
sort  that  we  get  at  anything  like  the  true  value  of  this 
uprising  which  saved  llie  Lhiiou  and  1  believe  blessed 
humanity  as  no  other  act  of  men  ever  did. 

And  how  swiftly  the  hours  flew  l)y  to  those  who  stood 
to  guard  whilst  others  slept — hearing  through  all  the 
night  the  sound  within  the  enemy's  lines  o|  marching 


god's  war.  151 

feet  and  rumbling  wheels  and  clanking  sabers  going 
steadily  toward  our  right,  and  seeing  through  the  foggy 
darkness  figures  of  men,  and  groups  flitting  and  looming 
here  and  there  and  striving  to  penetrate  the  secrets  of 
our  line  and  to  find  its  weak  places! 

And  how  soon  the  dawn  came  to  those  who,  worn  with 
fatigue,  slept  in  all  their  cheerless  discomfort  and 
dreamed  of  home,  and  kissed  their  children  at  their  knees, 
and  looked  into  the  steadfast  eyes  of  the  loving  wife 
more  dear  than  au.y  other  being  upon  the  earth;  or 
walked  adown  the  scented  lane  with  the  maiden  of  the 
starry  eyes  and  flitting  blush — how  soon  it  came  to  these 
— that  single  shot  which  pierced  the  silence,  and  with  its 
sharp  echo  rang  the  knell  of  ten  thousand  souls  and  in 
an  instant  woke  a  hell  of  crashing  carnage! 


15JJ  god's  war. 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

THE    THIRTY-FIRST    OF    DECEMBER,    1862. 

The  men  were  moving  about  quietly,  joking  in  low 
tones,  scraping  together  the  crumbs  of  soaked  hardtack 
that  made  their  morning  meal,  for  they  were  not  per- 
mitted on  the  left  and  along  the  center  to  make  fires  to 
cook  anything ;  stretching  themselves  prone  in  the  mire 
to  drink  out  of  puddles  and  then  filling  their  canteens 
with  the  muddy,  unwholesome  liquid,  which  they  fore- 
saw would  soon  be  worth  more,  drop  for  drop,  than  its 
weight  in  diamonds;  rubbing  up  the  locks  of  their  guns 
and  adjusting  cartridge  boxes,  so  that  they  might  fight 
to  the  best  possible  advantage  when  the  signal  came — 
not  at  all  insensible  to  the  influences  of  the  hour  and  the 
place,  but  mentally  and  physically  girding  themselves 
up  for  the  encounter — swallowing  their  cold,  nervous 
shivers  with  a  feeling  of  shame  that  even  the  power  of 
the  great  will  which  kept  them  steadfast  could  not  sup- 
press such  unmanly,  involuntary  shuddering. 

In  the  midst  of  this  subdued  hum  there  suddenly  came 
a  sound  like  that  which  is  made  when  one  breaks  a  stick 
across  one's  knee — snap! 

That  first  shot! 

You  have  heard  in  the  sweet  dewness  of  the  fresh  and 
odorous  dawn  the  cheep  of  the  earliest  awakened  bird 
and  have  observed  that  another  at  once  follows  and  then 
another  and  another  till  suddenly'  the  whole  grove  is 
filled  with  melodj'? 

Well,  it  was  like  that;  and  yet,  of  course,  it  was  not! 

For  that  first  shot,  coming  from  the  rifle  of  a  vigilant 
sikrmisher  who  sought  to  check  the  intrusivenesa  of  an 
overbold   Confederate,  had  scarcely  sounded  before  an- 


god's  war.  lofj 

other  followed  and  then  a  third  and  yet  another,  till  all 
along"  the  miles  of  the  front  a  fusillade  rang  out  that 
bx-ouffht  the  men  up,  standing,  with  compressed  lips, 
quick-beating  hearts  and  hard,  deep   breathing.     .     .     . 

General  Bragg,  commanding  the  Confederate  Army 
during  battle  of  Stone  River,  had  that  stream,  with 
some  insignificant  earthworks  some  distance  back,  and 
but  little  else,  to  protect  his  right  wing.  On  his  left  he 
had  some  fairly  good  intrenchments.  He  perhaps  over- 
estimated, for  a  careful  commander,  the  value  of  the  river 
as  an  obstacle  to  the  advance  of  the  Union  left  wing.  It 
was  not  a  serious  obstacle — but  that  is  neither  here  nor 
there.  His  plan  of  battle  contemplated  a  fierce  and  heav3' 
attack  upon  the  right  of  the  Union  line  and  the  annihila- 
tion of  the  Union  Army,  and  circumstances  not  pleasant 
to  remember  greatly  helped  him  and  very  nearly  gave 
him  complete  success. 

General  Rosecrans,  with  a  more  correct  judgment, 
made  up  his  mind  that  Stone's  River  was  but  a  feeble 
barrier  to  the  advance  of  brave  men ;  and  as  he  knew  that 
the  Confederate  left  was  tolerably  w'ell  intrenched  he, 
too,  determined  upon  a  plan  of  battle  which  contem- 
plated the  crushing  of  his  adversary's  right;  this  accom- 
plished, the  fall  of  Murfreesboro  must  follow. 

And  the  two  generals  on  Tuesday  evening  issued  in- 
structions almost  precisely  identical  in  spirit  to  their 
corps  commanders.  The  commander  of  the  right  wing, 
in  each  case,  was  to  keep  up  a  bold  and  determined  front; 
not  to  force  the  fighting,  but  to  so  bear  himself  as  to 
persuade  his  opponent  that  he  was,  always,  just  on  the 
point  of  doing  so;  and  the  commander  of  the  left  wing, 
in  each  case,  was  to  fall  upon  his  adversary  with  fury 
and  persistence. 

The  two  brigades  on  the  right  of  the  Union  line  were 
at  breakfast  with  hot  coffee,  their  arms  stacked  and  their 
battery  horses  unhitched  and  some  of  them  led  off  to 
water.  For  this  terrible  mistake  the  commander  of  one 
of  these  brigades,  Colonel  Kirk,  atoned  with  his  life 
before  sunset,  fighting  gallantly  and  with  a  valor  than 
which  no  man  ever  showed  greater.  The  other,  bluff  old 
August  Willich,    reputed   natural   son  of   the   Emperor 


lo4  GOD'S  WAR. 

AVilliam  of  Germany,  in  a  vain  attempt  to  retrieve  his 
eiror  fell  into  the  enemy's  hands  and  lauguiHhed  for 
some  months  in  a  Southern  prison.  If  anything  could 
have  wiped  out  tlie  blame  which  lay  upon  these  com- 
manders, their  heroic  fighting  and  that  of  their  soldiers 
on  this  awful  day  would  have  sufficed.  And  let  us  hope 
that  history  will  decide  that  it  did. 

Down  upon  these  men,  lulled  into  a  feeling  of  false 
security  by  this  carelessness  of  their  commanders,  came, 
swooping,  Bragg's  fighters,  ten  to  one;  the  rebel  left 
extending  far  beyond  the  Union  right,  and  rushing  in  to 
envelop  and  crush  it.  Valor  could  not  stem  the  onset; 
the  courage  of  as  noble  and  brave  a  band  of  men  as  ever 
felt  in  their  veins  the  strength  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood  was 
of  no  avail ;  and  though  they  sprang  to  arms  like  tigers 
upon  their  prej',  and  sought  to  align  themselves,  and 
fought  with  desperation,  they  were  crushed  in  almost 
less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it  and  swept  back  upon 
their  comrades  further  on  the  left,  almost  back  to 
back  with  them. 

At  last  the  surge  of  the  rebel  advance  was  momentarily 
stayed.  Changing  front  to  rear  with  coolness  and  rap- 
idity the  fresh  troops  in  the  Union  line  offered  a  stubborn 
resistance.  But  they  met  and  challenged  an  advance 
which  they  could  not  hold.  For  it  was  irresistible,  and 
almost  before  their  gun  barrels  were  heated  another 
brigade  of  men  was  Hying  back  upon  the  line  which 
stretched  still  farther  to  the  left,  whei'e  again  a  desperate 
struggle,  but  a  hopeless  one,  ensued. 

Remember  that  now  it  was  not  alone  Bragg's  ponderous 
flanking  masses  of  men,  coming  from  the  rear,  who  had 
to  be  encountered  and  resisted.  The  whole  front  of  the 
line  was  furiously  engaged;  so  that  when  one  shattered 
brigade  after  another  was  thrown  back,  the  men  in  the 
line  remaining  steadfast  and  apparently  with  their  hands 
full  with  the  enemy  in  front,  found  themselves  assailed 
from  the  flank  and  rear  also  and  incumbered  and  embar- 
rassed by  thousands  of  their  flying  comrades.  What  were 
mortal  men  to  do?  They  fought  their  enemy  front  and 
rear,  to  the  right  and  left  and  then  of  course  were  com- 
pelled to  yield,  join  and  merge  themselves  with  the  dis- 


tJOD  S  WAR.  irut 

organized  mob  and  retreat  still  farther  to  the  left,  uhile 
the  Coufederate  musketry  and  artillery  poured  volley 
after  volley,  shot,  shell,  grape  and  canister  at  short 
range  into  the  mass,  plowing  through  from  side  to  side, 
striking  down,  killing  and  maiming  as  Indians  slay  be- 
wildered buffalos. 

All  that  could  be  done  was  done  by  Rosecrans  to  stem 
the  swirling  tide  of  disaster.  His  little  force  of  cavalry 
was  kept  busy  in  the  rear  protecting  the  ammunition  and 
suppb'  trains  from  the  attacks  of  the  Wheelers  and 
Morgans  who  with  their  reckless  riders  were  infinitely 
troublesome;  in  moments  of  brief  respite  from  these 
onsets  they  dashed  now  and  again  upon  the  rebel  left 
Hank  to  worry  and  distract  attention ;  till  they  were  called 
off  again  to  look  after  matters  in  the  rear,  from  Lavergne 
to  Overall's  Creek.  The  Union  reserves  thus  thrown 
into  the  breach  withered  and  passed  away  like  a  cloud  of 
dry  leaves  sucked  by  the  heat  into  a  forest  fire.  And  still 
the  victorious  Confederates,  crazy,  fierce,  and  relentless 
with  joy  at  their  tremendous  success,  came  pouring  on 
like  tumbling  waves  on  the  storm-swept  rocks,  shrieking 
their  peculiar  war  cry  like  so  many  possessed  of  devils. 

The  Union  left,  which  it  was  planned  should  sweep 
like  a  whirlwind  across  the  stream  and  into  the  town, 
had  but  just  begun  its  movement  when  the  roar  of  battle 
coming  from  the  right  so  rapidly  and  so  menacingly,  like 
the  noise  of  a  consuming  conflagration  which  cannot  be 
stayed,  gave  it  pause.  It  was  seen  that  Bragg 's  plan 
was  succeeding,  and  Rosecrans  must  change  his.  Then 
came  orders  swift  and  fast  and  all  who  could  be  seized 
upon  were  thrown  into  the  maelstrom  in  the  hope  to 
choke  and  check  it.  The  beaten  troops  were  rallied  and 
sent  charging  again  and  again  into  the  fiery  cloud  that 
marked  Bragg's  steady  advance.  Flying  batteries  were 
halted  and,  posted  at  new  points  of  vantage,  set  to  work. 

Presently  this  determined  and  heroic,  clinging  and 
unyielding  obstinacy  began  to  have  its  effect.  The 
advancing  rebels,  who  had  been  almost  on  the  run,  slowed 
down,  then  halted,  and  then  found  it  necessary  to  con- 
template something  else  than  a  continuance  of  success. 
Coming  finally  to  a  dead   standstill  they  realized  that, 


15G  r,OD's  WAR. 

stroug  and  triumpbaut  aud  brave  as  they  were,  they  Lad 
met  an  obstacle  they  could  not  overcome.  That  obstacle 
was  a  line  of  Ameiican  soldiers  who  had  been  badly 
whipped,  but  who  uad  from  that  whippinti  drawn  such 
inspiration  of  stubborn  heroism  that  nothing-  could  move 
them  further— nut  an  inch— nor  a  hair's-breadth. 

And  who  shall  strive  to  paint  the  picture  during  all 
this  time,  of  the  rear,  where  frightened  teamsters  and 
panio-stricken  stragglers  and  thieving  camp-followers 
and  all  of  the  worst  elements  of  the  army,  with  horses 
and  wagons,  locked  themselves  together  in  an  apparently 
inextricable  tangle,  blocking  up  the  roads,  cowering  and 
sneaking  and  flying  at  the  terror-breeding  rumors  which 
■were  borne  on  the  idle  winds  thick  as  thistledown  on  a 
golden  day  in  August?  The  uproar  and  the  pitiful  ex- 
hibitions of  avarice  and  cowardice  by  turns,  all  the  vilest, 
mosi  abject  frailties  of  the  lowest  order  of  humanity, 
made  such  a  picture  as  would  drive  a  decent  man  to  the 
frenzied  verge  of  suicide  that  he  might  no  longer  be 
charged  to  the  race. 

Have  you  ever  seen  a  panic-stricken  soldier  in  time  of 
battle?     If  you  have  you  will  never  forget  it. 

On  the  day  following  this  I  am  describing  so  feebly, 
while  temporarily  with  the  cavalry  at  the  rear,  near 
Overall's  Creek,  I  saw  one  such  man;  and  the  picture  is 
still  vivid  although  thirty  years  have  since  elapsed.  For 
days  it  was  with  me,  tilling  me  with  horror  and  giving 
to  my  waking  hours  the  terrors  of  a  hideous  nightmare. 
He  was  a  young  man  of  perhaps  twenty,  stout  and  well 
made,  with  a  big  round  head  fronted  by  a  big  round  face 
which  usually  held,  as  one  could  plainly  see,  a  plenty  of 
rich  healthy  color;  now,  however,  it  was  ghastly  in  its 
pallor,  the  clear  white  having  grown  a  greenish  yellow — 
as  if  his  fright  had  upset  his  internal  economy  and  poured 
the  bile  into  his  veins.  It  was  at  a  moment  of  compara- 
tive quiet,  front  and  rear,  only  an  occasional  shot  to  be 
heard,  when  he  came  down  the  pike  from  the  front  with 
all  the  speed  of  a  quarter  horse.  The  general  command- 
ing the  cavalry,  D.  S.  Stanley,  sitting  on  his  horse  near 
me,  seemed  to  know  at  once  what  this  strange  sight  of  a 


god's  war.  157 

man  fleeing,  when  no  one  pursued,  as  if  for  his  life, 
meant;  although  it  was  a  puzzle  to  me;  and  quickly 
whipping  out  his  light  slender  sword  he  drove  at  the 
fugitive  as  if  he  were  charging  a  battery.  The  presence 
of  the  real  and  tangible  danger  in  his  front  compelled 
the  trembling  wretch  to  pause  in  his  insane  flight  from 
the  imaginary  danger  behind  him.  He  halted  under  the 
nose  of  the  general's  horse  and  looked  up  at  the  stern 
soldier  with  such  an  expression  of  agonized,  beseeching 
appeal  as  I  have  never  seen  in  mortal  eyes  before  nor 
since, 

"Where are  you  going,  you — whelp!"  demanded  Stan- 
ley, hesitating  when  he  came  to  the  epithet  as  if  he  were 
searching  for  the  vilest  term  in  his  vocabulary. 

A  wild  waving  of  his  hands  and  rolling  of  his  eyes, 
with  a  torrent  of  incoherent  gibberish,  was  all  the  reply 
the  coward  could  give. 

"Get  back  to  your  place!  Back,  Isa.v;  back,  I  say; 
back,  you  damned  scoundrel,  back,  back,  back!"  and 
with  each  "back"  the  general's  withy  blade  swished  in 
the  air  and  smote,  flat  side  on,  the  fellow's  great  fat 
cheeks  with  a  sound  like  a  pistol  shot. 

As  God  is  my  judge,  it  was  pitiful! 

The  coward  writhed  and  screamed  and  begged,  but 
made  no  effort  either  to  excuse  or  defend  himself.  Such 
abasement  as  he  showed  of  God's  image!  It  was  too 
much,  and  I  turned  aside  to  banish  the  sight  from  my 
eyes,  and  when  I  looked  again  he  was  scurrying  back  to 
the  front  as  fast  as  he  had  come,  with  the  fierce,  lean 
general  tearing  after  him  and  bending  over  his  horse's 
neck  to  strike  him  whenever  he  could  reach  him  with  the 
flat  of  that  wickedly  hissing  sword! 

The  Union  right  on  "Wednesday  morning  stretched  to 
the  south,  facing  strongly,  almost  squarely  to  the  east, 
while  the  center  faced  south  by  east,  and  the  left  faced 
in  a  direction  to  the  east,  trending  slightly  to  the  north, 
conforming  its  front  to  the  vagaries  of  the  stream.  In 
the  afternoon  the  right  wing  was  faced  in  a  semicircular 
form  squarely  to  the  west,  with  its  right  fully  three  miles 
north  of  the  point  where  it  (the  right  of  the  right  wing) 


158  GOD'S   WAR. 

had  rested  in  the  morning,  while  the  left  and  center, 
compressed  into  the  smallest  posaible  space,  held  a  posi- 
tion facing  due  south,  slightly  in  the  rear  of  the  position 
occupied  by  the  left  Aving  in  the  morning. 

This  does  not  make  it  plain,  nor  will  it  become  so 
unless  you  will  take  the  pains  to  make  your  own  diagram, 
rememijeriug  that  the  right  and  center  fell  back  as  if  they 
had  used  the  right  flank  of  the  left  wing  as  a  pivot  till, 
if  the  line  had  swung  back  intact,  the  right  flank  of  the 
right  wing  would  have,  in  describing  the  arc  of  a  circle, 
traversed  a  distance  of  more  than  four  miles,  while  in 
a  straight  line  it  did  go  more  than  three  miles  from 
the  point  where  Bragg  fell  upon  the  two  brigades  at 
their  breakfast  with  hot  coffee.  The  steady  advance 
of  the  Confederates,  while  it  was  persistently  and 
obstinately  resisted  (for,  from  three  to  four  hours 
passed  away  before  the  Union  troops  were  beaten 
back  to  the  position  last  given  above),  received  its 
first  substantial  check  when  it  reached  "John  F. 's" 
brigade  in  the  center,  and  the  hard  fighting  of  that 
hei'oic  band  even  long  after  it  had  been  deserted  on 
right  and  left,  gave  time  for  new  combinations  and  align- 
ments to  be  formed  on  the  Union  side.  Then  this  brig- 
ade, isolated  and  surrounded,  cut  its  way  out  at  the 
point  of  the  bayonet. 

And  when  the  firing  was  suddenly  stilled  for  a  brief 
moment,  between  12  o'clock  noon  and  1  o'clock  p.m.,  the 
miles  of  ground  between  the  Franklin  road  on  the 
south  and  running  east  and  west,  and  the  Nashville 
pike  to  the  northeast,  which  ran  south  by  west,  was 
filled,  open  fields  and  tangled  cedar  brakes,  rounded 
dells  and  rocky  hills,  with  dead  men ;  and  living  men, 
dying,  maimed  and  shattered,  moaning  and  shrieking, 
cursing  and  praying,  thousands  of  them  ;  and  upon  them 
fell  a  merciless  chilling  and  stiffening  misty  rain,  from 
a  sky  as  cruelly  cold  and  gray  as  ever  frowned  ujjon 
human  beings  in  their  death  agony.  Now,  "old  John 
F. "  was  a  dark-eyed  young  ludianian,  who  commanded 
the  brigade  to  which  our  soldier  boys,  Nat  and  Tom,  and 
the  rest  nf  them,  belonged.  He  was  a  quiet  man  ordin- 
arily but  could  be  noisy  wlion  occasion  re'ni'i'<'d;  then  it 
was  observed  that  whatever  uuise  he  made  went  directly 


GOD'S  WAR.  159 

to  the  point  of  the  business  in  hand,  and  whether  it  was 
much  or  little  it  was  always  judt  enough  and  accomplished 
its  purpose.  His  dark  hair  and  closely  cropped  beard 
framed  a  handsome,  manly  face  that  was  peculiarly 
strong  in  repose  and  remarkably  vivid  and  inspiring 
when  he  was  aroused.  This  setting  gave,  perhaps,  ad- 
ditional depth  to  his  dark  eyes  which  were  soft  and  win- 
ning, and  only  the  close  observer  would  detect  the  lam- 
bent tires  that  slept  and  burned  in  their  depths.  When 
aroused,  as  in  time  of  battle,  these  eyes  were  to  those 
upon  whom  they  flashed  an  inspiration  of  courage  and 
heroism  more  startling  and  awakening  in  its  power  than 
the  sudden  blast  of  the  trumpet  sounding  the  charge. 
He  was  quick  in  his  movements,  but  never  nervous;  and 
his  iron  will  never  acknowledged  defeat.  Without  osten- 
tation, indeed  having  a  pride  which  would  not  permit 
itself  to  condescend  to  such  a  thing  any  more  than  it 
would  permit  him  to  make  himself  common,  he  seemed 
one  of  those  rarely  poised  men  whose  lives  are  governed 
by  fixed  laws— men  whom  it  is  impossible  to  disturb  in 
their  well  ascertained  and  defined  and  thoroughly  un- 
derstood duties  and  purposes.  This  did  not  preclude 
a  quickness,  as  of  lightning,  in  moments  of  emergency; 
only  the  decision  thus  arrived  at  in  the  winking  of  an 
eye,  was  for  firmness  and  enthusiastic  strength  as  if  it 
had  been  the  result  of  years  of  careful  deliberation. 
And  how  unerring  was  the  aim  of  this  instinct,  which 
makes  great  the  man  who  possesses  it,  whoever  he  may 
be  or  wherever  he  may  be  placed,  we  shall  see. 

"Old  John  F. "  I  repeat,  was  a  young  man — only  about 
thirty  at  the  time  of  the  occurrences  which  I  am  now 
recalling;  he  was  given  the  venerable  appellation  by  the 
men  in  his  command  in  compliance  with  the  unwritten 
law  which  prescribes  that  the  head  or  master,  whether 
in  the  army  or  the  workshop  is  "the  old  man"  to  the 
men  under  him;  especially  if  they  love  him;  whether  he 
is  an  octogenarian  or  a  beardless  boy.  When  he  rode 
around  among  his  men  their  eyes  followed  him  with  a 
look  of  afifectiouate  regard.  And  among  the  survivors 
of  the  old  Seventh  Brigade  you  will  find  gray -headed 
worshippers  of  two  commanders  above  all  others  dear  to 
them,  and  whom  they  dub  "old  Pap  Thomas"  and  "John 


160  god's  war. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"the    girl    I    LEFT    BEHIND    Me!" 

"That  begins  the  business,  without  any  flap-doodle." 
quietly  observed  Nat  as  the  first  shot  was  heard  on 
Wednesday  morning;  it  made  a  noise  very  little  louder 
than  the  snapjiing  of  a  good-sized  dry  twig  and  yet  its 
significance  was  recognized  at  once  by  all. 

"Yes,"  replied  Tom,  rising  to  his  feet  and  taking  up 
his  rubber  blanket  from  the  ground,  "that  means  busi- 
ness.    All  ready  there,  men;  get  your  places!" 

"That's  one  thing  I  like  about  a  battle,"  continued 
Nat.  "That  is,  if  I  like  anything  at  all  about  such  mur- 
derous work.  There  ain't  no  fuss  and  feathers  about  it! 
You  get  right  down  to  business  from  the  jump!" 

"Am  I  to  understand,  Lieutenant  Kellogg,"  asked  Tom 
mockingly,  "that  you  really  don't  enjo.y  a  battle?" 

"Well,  yes;  that's  about  the  size  of  it!  There  may 
be  great  and  glorious  fellows  who  revel  in  this  sort  of 
thing — maybe  these  fellows  who  wear  gold  buttons  and 
velvet  facings  and  white  duck  trowsers  and  papei'-collars 
do — sometimes,  when  I  have  seen  them  raising  so  much 
dust  on  reviews,  galloping  up  and  down  the  line  on 
their  fierce  he-male  charges,  at  such  times  I  have  been 
impressed  that  they  never  are  happy,  never  can  be,  ex- 
cept when  they  are  stalking  godlike  through  the  awful 
hell  of  battle— but  I'm  different  you  know — I'm  off  of 
another  piece  of  cloth,  and  I  don't  enjoy  it  like  it  was  a 
Sunday-school  picnic,  to  tell  the  truth." 

"What  do  you  do  it  for,  then?" 

"Now  there's  where  you  strike  me  right  hard,  captain! 
I  often  ask  myself  that  same  question,  especially  when  I 
meet  one  of  these  Awful  Beings  whose  political  friends 


GOD  S   WAk.  161 

Iiave  helped  them  to  get  comini«sions  as  colonels  or  Jiga- 
dier  briudles,  but  who  are  uo  luore  fit  for  soldiers  or  to 
ooiniuaud  soldiers  than  old  puffy  Jordan  is.  When  I 
meet  one  of  them  and  think  that  maybe  the  next  fight  I 
get  into  I  will  be  under  his  command,  then  I  wonder  why 
I  stay  in  the  service.  And  when  I  get  into  a  battle  and 
realize  the  danger  I  am  in  no, matter  who  is  in  command, 
I  wonder  more  than  ever." 

"But  we  are  not  serving  under  that  kind  of  a  man." 
"No.     So  far  as  the  brigade  is  concerned  we're   all 

right.     But " 

"Well,  well,  I  say,"  cried  Tom  impatiently,  "why 
don't  5'ou  quit  it  then?" 

"I  don't  know,  unless  it  is  because  this  thing's  got  to 
be  did,  and  I  reckon  I'm  as  much  bound  to  help  do  it  as 
anybody.  I'm  in  for  the  war;  and  I'm  going  to  stay. 
The  South 's  got  to  be  wallopped  if  we've  got  it  into  us, 
and  I'm  going  to  do  my  share.  But  it  ain't  no  particu- 
lar fun,  my  friend." 

"You're  fighting  for  a  great  deal,  Nat." 
"Yes.    Among  other  things  to  see  how  high  little  Susie 
will  carry  her  head  when  it's  over,  and  to  give  little  Dick 
something  to  brag  about  when   he  meets  old  Jordan's 
grandson  at  school,  a  few  years  from  now. '  * 

"Haven't  you  heard  that  Jordan  has  been  made  colonel 
of  a  new  regiment?" 

"Great  Julius " 

"Fall  m,  men,  fall  in!  Every  man  to  his  place! 
They're  coming!" 

But  it  was  a  feint  merely;  serious  enough  in  all  con- 
science, but  still  nothing  more  than  a  terrific  firing  of 
musketry  and  artillery.  The  men  were  held  strongly  in 
check  and  warned  not  to  fire  till  they  could  see  something 
to  shoot  at.  Again  and  again  this  was  repeated,  till  they 
grew  somewhat  used  to  it  and  fell  to  joking  in  a  half- 
careless  way,  but  were  still  watchful.     .     . 

The  minutes  grew  into  hours,  and  it  had  got  to  be  8 
o'clock,  and  still,  beyond  protecting  themselves  as  best 
they  could  from  the  heavy  firing  of  the  enemy  in  his 
earthworks  across  the  open  field,  they  had  nothing  to  do 
but  listen  to  the  steady  roar  on  the  right  which  came 
swinging  about  to  the  left  and  rear  with  significant 
rapidity. 


16?  GOD'S   WAR. 

"No  fight  for  us  to-day."  The  tone  was  fairly  de- 
sponflent,  but  the  words  had  scarcely  been  uttered  when 
the  reply  came : 

"Yes,  there  i8,  by  God!  See,  they're  coming!"  cried 
a  quick,  tense  voice. 

And  "they"  were  coming,  with  such  a  din  of  shrieking 
shells  as  rent  the  air  to  ribbons,  and  sending  in  advance 
a  shower  of  leaden  balls  whistling  and  singing  overhead, 
and  spat,  spat,  spatting  as  they  struck  the  cedar  trees  or 
the  great  gray  bowlders,  giving  a  deadlier  sound  when 
they  buried  themselves  in  human  desh — a  sound  that 
was  followed  by  a  low  moan  from  the  victim  and  a  nau- 
seating sensation  within  his  comrades  who  gave  a  hasty 
glance  at  his  drawn  face  and  his  eyes  tilled  with  a  wild, 
half-beseeching,  horritied  look,  and  then  turned  away  to 
face  the  foe  with  an  effort  of  will  that  paled  their  lips 
and  sent  the  blood  crowding  their  hearts  almost  to 
bursting. 

"Steady  there,  men!    Don't  tire  till  you  get  the  word!" 

They  crouched  like  beasts,  waiting  for  their  prey ; 
their  eyes  gleaming  and  their  breath  coming  with  but  a 
faint  fluttering,  so  strongly  repressed  was  the  emotion 
which  they  felt.   . 

A  wild  taunting  cheer  came  from  the  woods  opposite 
as  a  long  line  of  gray-clad  men  leaped  over  the  line  of 
intrenchments  into  the  open  field  and  with  trailed  arms 
started  on  a  loping  run  for  the  clump  of  cedars  in  the 
edge  of  which  the  Twenty -first  lay.  Fierce  and  steady 
as  they  came  their  line  was  straight  as  a  board. 

"Put  down  that  gun — what  do  you  mean?  That's  the 
third  load  you've  put  in  and  you've  rammed  your  cart- 
ridge, ball  first!"  cried  Nat. 

"I — I — don't  you  see — "  stammered  the  culprit. 

"Get  to  the  rear — now,"  answered  Nat  with  a  voice 
filled  with  suppressed  rage  and  contempt.  "Now,  I  say, 
or  by  the  Eternal  I'll  shoot  you  dead,"  and  at  the  muzzle 
of  a  Colt's  navy  in  Nat's  hand  the  one  coward  in  the 
company  turned  and  fled  like  a  frightened  deer.  The 
men  saw  in  the  flash  of  an  eye;  some,  it  would  seem, 
without  turning  their  heads;  they  all  understood  Nat's 
motive  and  they  ;*U  approved  his  act. 


god's  war.  163 

Ab!  what  whips  and  scorns  must  he  not  bear  with  him 
who  thus  flies  from  his  duty  !  Better  to  face  the  unut- 
terably awful  challenge  of  death,  to  lose  the  wager  and 
to  endure  the  brief  pain  of  dissolution  and  leave  your  clay 
on  the  field — ^a  thousand  times  better!  Of  a  truth,  to 
the  man  who  is  healthy  in  mind  and  body  the  most 
dreadful  moment  is  that  when  he  sits  hob  and  nob  with 
Death,  piercing  those  sightless  sockets  with  a  glance  of 
steady  defiance,  whether  he  feels  it  in  his  heart  or  no, 
and  giving  back,  grin  for  grin,  the  mockery  of  those 
fleshless  chops,  till  the  brain  reels!  Heads  have  whitened 
and  hearts  have  grown  old  in  one  brief  moment  of  such 
a  strain!  But  how  infinitely  preferable  that  to  the 
gnawing  of  the  worm  at  the  heart  of  the  man  who  re- 
members that  he  fled  his  duty!  How  polluted  the  life 
saved  in  such  a  way  I 

"Steady  men — don't  tiro  till  you  get  the  word!"  and 
the  half-dozen  muskets  that  had  been  involuntarily  raised 
wei'e  slowly  lowered  again. 

AVould  the  time  never  come? 

The  charging  column  deliver  a  volle^^ — ^one  terribly 
effective!  Now,  surely,  is  the  time!  But  no — "Steady 
there — not  yet,  not  yet — wait  for  the  word!" 

And  the  cool  commander  sits  motionless  on  his  horse, 
his  eyes  alone  showing  a  sign  of  life  as  they  glance  rap- 
idly back  and  forth  taking  in  all  parts  of  the  field,  and 
watching  this  devil's  kettle  till  the  color  should  come 
which  would  tell  him  when  to  thi'ow  in  his  ingredients 
to  give  new  wickedness  to  the  weird,  hellish  flames. 

Flesh  and  blood  cannot  stand  this  much  longer!  The 
men  feel,  strong  as  is  the  power  of  the  discipline  under 
which  they  are  held,  that  they  must  fire.  The  enemy 
are  so  near  that  they  can  read  the  "C.  S.  A."  on  their 
belts,  and  they  are  becoming  insolently  exultant. 

*'Kow  then;  let  'e?/i  hace  it!" 

The  discharge  of  their  guns  was  like  the  roar  of  a  blast 
of  wind,  only  quicker,  beginning  with  a  low  growl  and 
rising  and  swelling  into  a  thunderous  crash  that  seemed 
to  shake  the  earth!  It  smote  the  enemy  swift  ani! 
sudden  and  awful  as  the  wrath  of  God;  and  the  gray  coats 
littered  the  field  like  sheep  upon  a  hillside. 


164  god's  war. 

"Keep  it  up,  men!  Load  and  fire  at  will!  Don't  let 
a  man  get  back  alive!"  the  oiliceis  shrieked  and  danced 
about  like  madmen,  but  with  a  dreadful  method  in  their 
madness;  and  never  losing  sight  of  the  chances  of  the 
fight. 

A  puff  of  heavy,  mist-laden  wind  floats  off  the  smoky 
pall  and  reveals  the  combatants — the  men  of  the  Twenty- 
first  loading  and  firing  with  the  fury  of  devils,  groaning 
and  growling  and  filling  the  air  with  inarticulate  mur- 
murs of  an  indescribable  fierceness,  while  the  startled 
Confederates  resolutely  and  nobly  strive  to  close  up  their 
decimated  ranks,  and  fairly  manage  to  rally  their  brave 
men,  and  with  it  all  keep  up  a  fire  under  which  their 
blue-coated  opponents  are  toppling  over  by  dozens. 

Ah!  we  can  look  back  at  it,  through  the  softening  blue 
haze  of  more  than  thirty  years,  and  understand  why 
there  was  no  man  there,  either  in  the  gray  or  tlie  blue, 
who  was  ashamed  that  day  that  he  was  an  American! 

Was  it  a  year  or  a  day?  an  hour  or  five  minutes?  At 
such  times  one  cannot  stop  to  measure  the  sweep  of  the 
long,  gray  beard  with  his  cleaving  scythe — there  is  an- 
other reaper  whose  keen  steel  interests  us  more!  But  at 
last  the  Confederates  begin  to  retire;  they  fall  back  in 
comparatively  good  order;  no  frantic,  panicky  haste,  but 
facing  their  foe  and  sending  Parthian  messengers  as  they 
go  to  swell  the  death  roll  in  their  enemy's  camp. 

And  now  the  roar  extends  along  the  whole  line;  heavy 
and  continuous  on  the  Union  left  and  center,  but  fiercest 
and  most  ai)palling  on  the  right,  still  drawing  nearer  and 
nearer  to  the  rear,  till  at  last  the  Seventh  Brigade  realizes 
that  the  enemy  are  not  only  in  their  front  and  on  their 
right  and  left,  but  squarely  behind  them,  as  well.  A 
dense  cloud  hangs  over  all  that  part  of  the  field,  lit  up 
momentarily  with  lines  of  red  flashing  tires  as  a  regiment 
delivers  a  volley,  or  suddenly  illuminated  by  a  swelling, 
palpitating  splash  of  flame  as  the  great  guns  bellow  and 
belch  their  monster  missiles  through  quivering  masses  of 
men. 

You  are  kneeling ;  partly  to  be  able  to  aim  better 
under  the  smoke  and  partly  to  gain  the  small  protectiou 


GOD'S   WAR.  165 

that  a  low  bowlder  or  the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  will  give 
you;  you  are  loading  and  firing  with  all  tho  rapidity 
possible ;  you  can  scarcely  spare  the  time  to  aim  at  any 
one  individual  in  the  screaming,  yelling  throng  before 
you — you  do  well  if  you  take  care  to  depress  your  piece 
so  as  to  make  sure  not  to  overshoot,  and  you  blaze  away 
at  the  herd ;  you  find  that  your  shivers  have  passed  away 
and  you  grow  heated;  your  nervousness  has  gone;  you 
do  not  lose  the  sense  of  danger,  but  you  grow  careless  of 
it  or  accustomed  to  it,  and  as  you  work  awa.v,  your  gun 
barrel  growing  hot  and  foul  so  that  a  stream  of  fire 
spouting  out  of  the  muzzle  and  falling  to  the  ground  fol- 
lows each  discharge,  j-ou  realize  that  your  lips  are 
tightly  closed  and  that  you  are  grinding  your  clinched 
teeth  keeping  time  with  them  to  the  melody  of  some  old 
tune— "The  Monastery  Bells,"  "The  Maiden's  Prayer," 
"Rosalie  the  Prairie  Flower,"  "Old  Dan  Tucker," 
"Come  Where  My  Love  Lies  Dreaming,"  "The  Blue 
Juniata" — heaven  knows  what,  and  you  smile  at  the 
incongruity  of  the  thing;  an  exclamation  at  your  side 
tells  you  that  your  file  leader  has  been  hit  and  you  catch 
a  gleam  of  the  red  blood  spouting  from  his  lips  or  well- 
ing forth  from  the  ugly  hole  in  his  chest  or  thigh — and 
you  help  to  draw  him  to  the  shelter  of  a  great  bowlder  and 
with  scarcely  a  word  to  him  you  hasten  back,  as  if  to  a 
delightful  pastime,  to  your  post  and  begin  again  loading 
and  firing  and  grinding  your  teeth, and  occasionally  giving 
vent  to  a  groan  that  is  half  a  growl,  and  the  meaning  or 
motive  of  -which  you  could  not  explain  if  you  tried;  you 
notice  that  the  cedar  bough,  but  an  inch  in  diameter, 
hanging  near  your  head  sways  back  and  forth  with  a 
quick,  jerky  motion  and  that  it  has  been  shivered  and 
splintered  to  the  semblance  of  a  brush  or  miniature  broom 
b3'  repeated  shots  which  strike  it  and  give  it  the  eccentric 
vibration  you  have  observed,  and  you  wonder,  without 
any  alarm,  why  it  is  that,  presenting  a  front  to  the  fire  bo 
much  greater  than  the  twig,  3'ou,  too,  have  not  been 
riddled  out  of  all  human  form  and  shape;  and  as  you 
almost  forget  your  surroundings,  musing  upon  chances 
so  curious,  you  are  suddenly  aroused  by  a  shower  of  warm 
liquid  which  spots  your  hands  and  face  with  red,  and 


166  GOD'S  WAR. 

you  find  that  the  man  standing  over  you  has  been  struck 
by  a  ragi^ed  fragment  of  a  sliell  or  by  a  round  shot,  and 
as  bis  poor  frame  reels  and  totters  to  its  fall  his  blood  is 
apoutiny:  forth  like  a  fountain;  you  inhale  the  saltpeter 
smoke  till  your  thirst  grows  intolerable  and  you  suck  the 
muddy  dregs  from  the  bottom  of  your  canteen,  squeezing 
out  the  last  drop  for  the  poor  fellow  lying  near  by  with 
fast  glazing  eyes  and  whitey-blue  lips  who  can  only  mur- 
mur "water,"  while  his  hand  wanders  to  his  breast  where 
you  instinctively  know  there  is  an  ambrotype — the  pic- 
tures of  the  loving,  patient  wife,  the  sturdy  boy  and  the 
bright-eyed  girl  who,  hundreds  of  miles  off  up  in  the 
North  are  building  snow  forts  or  coasting  or  contriving 
Christmas  presents  for  the  father  who  is  at  the  front' — 
and  you  note  that  a  look  of  peace  shines  in  his  eyes,  dull 
as  they  are,  when  you  unbutton  his  coat  and  transfer  the 
pictures  to  your  own  breast;  the  sweeping  boughs  of  the 
low-hanging  cedar  over  your  head  are  cut  off  by  a 
screaming  shell  and  topple  down  upon  you,  but  you 
shake  them  off  as  you  would  a  cloud  of  summer  insects, 
and — you  work  away ;  your  cartridges  give  out  and  you 
calmly  roll  your  dead  messmate  over  and  supply  yourself 
from  his  bos;  the  air  is  filled  with  moans  and  curses  in 
which  you  unconsciously  join  in  obedience  to  the  great 
law  of  sympathy  which  finds  you  quick  to  respond  to  its 
subtle  influence,  and  you  do  not  rouse  until  the  firing 
ceases,  or  you  are  summoned  to  a  bayonet  charge,  when 
the  red  coals  of  your  dull,  obstinate  mood  flash  into  the 
roaring,  leaping  flame  of  a  reckless  enthusiasm.  "You  were 
sickened  at  the  sight  of  a  dead  man  yesterday;  to-day  you 
coollj'  plunder  his  haversack  for  food  which  he  no  longer 
needs.  You  are  usually  morbidly  sensitive  to  the  pres- 
ence of  death,  and  the  sight  of  a  wound,  even  a  small  cut, 
makes  you  squeamish,  but  to-day  you  fight  among  acres 
of  dead  and  dying  men,  showing  all  manner  of  wounds 
and  hurts,  mutilated  beyond  recognition  or  di-awn  by 
pain  into  shapes  so  horribly  grotesque  that  years  after 
you  will  recall  them  with  a  shudrler  and  you  are  unmoved 
and  gaze  upon  the  scene  with  what  you  reproachfully 
think  is  apathetic  indifference.  You  wonder  if  it  is  you? 
and  what  the  name  of  the  battle  will  be?  and   whether 


GOD'S  WAR.  167 

vour  side  is  winning  or  being  whipped?  and  what  the 
boys  are  at,  just  about  this  time,  up  North  on  the  old 
farm? — tearing  down  the  snow-covered  fodder-shocks 
doubtless  to  feed  the  cattle  in  the  woods-pasture — yes, 
that's  what  they  will  be  doing  just  now;  when  they  get 
through  they  will  load  the  sled  with  beech  and  hickory 
logs  for  fuel  at  the  house,  and,  after  spending  the  rest  of 
the  day  a-rabbit-hunting  they  will  go  to  spelling-school 
in  the  evening  or  to  a  taffy-pulling  over  at  Slimminses, 
where  there  is  a  house  full  of  strapping  big  girls!  And 
the  picture  swiftly  changing,  you  see  a  vision  of  the  low 
bridge  on  the  country  road  just  below  the  big  gate,  and 
the  shoals  of  minnows  darting  about  in  the  clear,  shallow 
watei%  shivering  the  pool  into  tremulous  waves  of  liquid 
gold,  just  as  they  used  to  do  on  a  summer  afternoon  when 
you  were  a  boy  fishing  there  with  a  pin  hook  fastened  to 
a  tow  string,  with  an  apple  tree  sprout  for  a  rod. 

No  time  to  think  of  these  things?  My  dear  sir,  in  the 
dual  thinking  that  you  are  keeping  up  all  the  time  these 
apparently  incongruous  thoughts  are  stronger  and  livelier 
and  more  absorbing  even  than  those  which  enable  you 
to  keep  photographing  on  your  mind  all  the  minutiae  of 
the  tremendous  scene  enacting  before  and  around  you. 

The  brigades  on  the  right  and  left  have  given  way  and 
the  red  waves  of  carnage  tower  above  "John  F."  and 
the  old  Seventh  Brigade,  mountain  high,  threatening  to 
topple  over  upon  the  devoted  band  and  submerge  and 
bury  it  out  of  sight.  And  still  it  fights  on — every 
moment  worth  millions  to  the  disorganized  troops  on  the 
left  and  in  the  rear  who,  while  the  overwhelming  torrent 
is  angrily  striving  to  sweep  away  this  obstinate  rock  in 
its  path,  are  gathering  themselves  together,  forming  new 
alignments  and  preparing  for  that  final  resistance  which 
will  be  successful. 

And  "John  F. !"  How  the  men  watch  him  on  the  bay 
horse  which,  thinking  with  his  rider's  head,  needs  no 
guidance,  as  he  rides  in  and  out  among  them,  the  incar- 
nation of  the  fearless  spirit  of  battle,  encouraging  no  less 
by  his  voice  and  the  flash  of  his  eyes  than  by  his  presence 
and  example,  the  heroes  upon  whom   so  much  depends! 


168  GOD'S   WAR. 

If  they  hold  out  a  little  longer,  surrounded  as  they  are, 
and  receiving  from  right  and  left,  front  and  rear,  volley 
after  volley  and  blasts  of  shot  and  shell  every  second, 
the  day  may  be  retrieved  and  the  army  savcl!  If  they 
yield  a  moment  too  soon  the  living  wave  of  gray-clad 
valor  pressing  so  eagerly  up  will  roar  on  and  through 
and  over  «ver3'thing  and  annihilate  the  shattered,  strug- 
gling mob  that  this  morning  was  an  army  with  banners. 
Will  they  be  e(iual  to  it? 

So  long  as  they  can  see  "John  F. "  ridingabout  among 
them,  and  can  hear  his  voice  bidding  them  stand  their 
ground  they  will  try  to  equal  their  task.  They  will  do 
all  that  mortal  men  can  do — ay!  they  will  essay  more,  so 
long  as  he  is  with  them.  They  make  no  noisy  pretense, 
and  give  vent  to  none  of  the  Hatulent  cheers  that  sound 
so  thrilling  on  the  parade  ground,  but  they  answer  his 
burning  glance  with  a  steadfast  regard  that  must  make 
his  heart  swell  with  pride  that  he  commands  such  men ! 
Does  not  his  aspect  tell  as  much  as  he  feels  his  own  hot 
blood  pouring  forth  from  his  own  wound  and  laughs  at 
the  fears  of  the  bystanders? 

A  putty-faced,  panicky  colonel  dashes  up  to  him,  crj'- 
ing,  "The  day  is  lost!" 

He  rises  in  his  stirrups  and  seems  to  grow  a  giant  as 
he  bursts  out  with  thrilling  indignation  and  contempt — 
"Lost!  The  day  is  never  lost!"  and  from  an  atmosphere 
that  seems  charged  with  electricity,  the  puttj'-faced 
colonel  rides  away  with  a  new  seeming  of  courage. 

Tom  and  Nat,  we  may  be  sure,  are  at  their  work. 
There  is  no  hesitation  about  it — they  make  no  false 
moves.  They  have  quickly  learned  their  dreadful  busi- 
ness. And  while  the  flaming  enthusiasm  of  the  one  in- 
spires the  men  like  a  draught  of  fiery  wine,  the  calm, 
imperturbable  strength  of  the  other  holds  them  steadfast. 
Their  men  are  falling  like  leaves.  They  close  up  the 
ranks  and  concentrate  their  little  company. 

But  even  steel  will  crumble  under  constant  pounding. 

"Great  God,  Nat,  we  are  falling  back!" 

The  tremendous  force  of  the  enemy  is,  truly,  forcing 
them  slowly  but  surely  back  into  the  center  of  the  clump 
of  cedars  in  which  they  are  posted. 


GOD'S   WAR.  169 

Do  j'ou  know  what  it  means  in  the  fierce  stress  of  a 
bard-fought  battle  to  lose  even  an  inch  of  ground?  You 
have  held  it  against  fearful  odds,  and  you  have  endured 
the  heaviest  shocks — you  feel  that  you  have  won  the 
right  to  stay  there.  Then,  as  the  irresistible  force 
presses  upon  you  and  you  find  that  unconsciously  you 
have  yielded  a  foot,  five  feet,  ten  feet,  a  great  band  of  lead 
is  fastened  about  your  heart  and  compressing  and  weigh- 
ing with  the  weight  and  force  of  tons,  it  crushes  your 
spirit  and  fills  you  with  a  dismay  such  as  no  other  dis- 
aster can  give. 

What  was  to  be  done?  No  amount  of  vehement  expos- 
tulation, threatening,  pleading,  could  win  back  the  lost 
fifty  feet  of  ground,  nor  sta^'  the  slow  retrogression  that 
spoke  with  such  dreadful  significance. 

Even  "John  F. "  who  held  the  Twenty-first  as  a  sheet 
anchor  to  windward,  felt  his  heart  sink  as  he  realized  the 
almost  utter  impossibility  of  staying  the  swiftly  rolling 
on  disaster. 

After  all,  must  we  yield?  If  we  could  only  make  one 
rally,  r.nd  drive  the  enemy  back,  if  but  for  a  moment,  it 
•were  worth  ten  thousand  lives. 

And  men's  hearts  sunk  to  think  that  no  human  agency 
could  meet  the  emergency ! 

But  hark!     What  is  that? 

The  soaring  thrill  of  a  fife,  with  the  confident  rattling 
of  a  drum,  climbing  up  and  out  and  over  the  roar  of  the 
conflict — and  men  paused,  with  a  new  light  in  their  eyes, 
to  listen ! 

It  was  old  Fielding,  and  Glick,  the  Dutch  drummer, 
and  the  strains  that  nerved  men's  hearts  were  those  of 
"The  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me!" 

The  old  man  had  stepped  out  to  the  front  of  the  colors, 
and  with  his  bare  head  thrown  back  and  his  body  quiv- 
ering with  excitement,  his  long,  bony  fingers  were  hop- 
ping over  the  vents  like  mad.  He  had  watched  the  battle 
closely,  bavely  grudging  the  time  to  do  his  appointed 
work  of  carrying  back  the  wounded.  And  when  he  saw 
the  lapping  wave  of  disaster  reach  to  the  very  verge  of 
irreparable  ruin  he  grew  wonderfully  excited.  Was  it 
not  God's  own  war,  and  could  he  do  nothing  to  defeat 


170  god's  war. 

the  enemies  of  the  Most  High?  Surely,  what  he  could 
he  would.  He  knew  the  power  of  his  life,  and  calling  to 
the  drummer,  he  went  to  the  front  to  lead  the  advance. 
No  fear  for  the  Dutchman!  Setting  his  face  with  the 
rigidity  of  a  wooden  man,  he  stepped  firmly  forth, 
rattling  his  drumsticks  as  coolb'  as  if  he  were  on  parade: 

"  Tke  Girl  I  Left  Behind  Me!" 

The  old  man  had  chosen  shrewdly.  If  he  had  played 
any  one  of  the  well  known  so-called  patriotic  airs  he 
would  only  have  got  himself  laughed  at. 

"Susie!"  yelled  Nat.  "Great  Julius  Cgesar!  Come 
on,  boys!" 

And  with  a  cheer — not  a  shrieking,  bloodthirsty 
screech  such  as,  I  regret  to  say,  the  Confederates  used, 
but  with  a  wholesome,  manly  cheer,  full  of  round,  ring- 
ing volume — the  whole  regiment  sprang  forward  after  old 
Fielding  and  the  Dutchman,  hurling  back  the  enemy  as 
the  ship  tosses  back  the  spray,  regaining  their  lost  ground 
and  holding  it  for  a  few  moments — a  length  of  time  suflS- 
cient  to  complete  the  rearrangement  of  the  lines  in  the 
rear. 

The  time  had  come  for  the  brigade  to  retire,  but  thej' 
were  all  loath  to  do  so.  They  fell  back  sullenly,  pausing 
everj'  now  and  then  to  deliver  a  volley — it  made  no 
difference  which  way  they  fired;  the  enemy  was  all 
around  them. 

Even  to  the  young  commander  the  adnnssiuu  implied 
in  a  retreat,  necessary  though  it  might  be,  was  beyond 
words  distasteful.  He  let  his  men  drift  slowly  back  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  then,  unable  to  control  the  feeling 
which  sent  the  flush  to  his  brow,  he  seized  a  stand  of 
colors  and  sprang  upon  a  huge  bowlder  in  the  depths  of 
the  thicket.     His  voice  rang  out  like  a  trum])et: 

"Fall  in  men — form  here!  If  we  cannot  whip  them 
we  can  at  least  show  them  how  men  can  die!" 

He  needed  no  more  satisfactory  assurance  of  their  de- 
votion to  him  than  to  hear  them  cry  "Come  on;  come  on! 
Here's  "John  F. !"  and  to  see  them  throng  about  him 
and  align  themselves,  the  man  of  the  Twenty-first,  elbow 
to  elbow  with  his  comrade  of  the  Seventy-eighth,  and 
the   Seventy-fourth  and  Thirty-seventh    mingling    with 


GOD'S   WAR.  171 

each  other,  while  the  red  trimmed  artillery  men  belonging 
to  Marshall  and  Ellsworth  whose  poor  guns  stand  away 
out  there  lost  and  deserted,  give  a  streak  of  color  here 
and  there  iu  the  line. 

And  here  they  fired  another  volley  or  two — but  it  was 
useless.  The  fiery  ludiauian  saw  that  to  hold  them  there 
was  really  to  accomplish  nothing  more  than  to  give  the 
example  how  men  could  die — which,  after  all,  was  not 
the  wisest  thing  that  could  be  done — and  very  reluctantly 
he  pointed  their  way  out,  following  last  to  safety  him- 
self, like  the  captain  who  leaves  his  sinking  ship  only 
after  he  has  seen  his  men  all  rescued  from  the  theatening 
perils. 

And  a  very  few  minutes  later  he  has  his  men  again  in 
perfect  order,  ready  to  fight  and  burning  to  do  so,  having 
the  added  stimulus  of  a  desire  to  revenge  themselves  upon 
their  overbearing  adversary.  Bat  though  they  lay  like 
hounds  held  in  the  leash,  watching  the  rest  of  the  daj' 
for  an  opportunity,  it  did  not  come ;  and  the  night  closed 
in  cold  and  foggy  and  gray. 

And  the  chilling  rain  dropped  down  from  cedar  boughs 
upon  ghastly  upturned  faces  distorted  with  pain  and 
lined  With  agony  such  as  no  man  having  realized  lives  to 
describe. 

And  the  faces  were  the  faces  of  men  who  were  strong 
and  buoyant  a  few  hours  before;  men  who  a  few  years 
ago  were  laughing  babes  with  dainty,  rounded  limbs  and 
eyes  full  of  the  glory  of  the  dawn,  and  soft,  white  throats 
which  held  low  cooings  and  happy  gurglings — babes 
whom  young  mothers  bowed  down  to  and  worshiped, 
finding  in  them  the  first  glimpse  of  heaven  that  comes  to 
womankind,  or  mankind  either,  for  the  matter  of  that! 

But  the  dead  eyes  which  showed  the  indelible  photo- 
graph of  the  pangs  of  hell  through  which  iu  dying  they 
had  passed  gave  no  hint  of  what  they  once  were!  And 
the  rigid,  sallow  cheeks  grew  only  more  rigid  as  the 
chilling  drops  fell  upon  them ;  and  were  not  the  divinely 
rounded  satin  spheres  where  a  mother's  velvet  lips  were 
wont  to  linger  lovingly  ! 

Ah  me!     The  changes  that  are  thus  wrought  iu  the 


172  god's  war. 

weary,  feverish,  troublous  journey  from  the  cradle  to  the 
li^rave!  Ae,  growing  to  stronj^  manhood,  we  leave  the 
best  of  us  behind  in  our  soft-eyed  mothers'  hearts,  God 
grant  that  we  may  in  the  new  life  only  take  it  up  again 
and  lose  the  memory  of  that  which  has  gone  between! 


GOD'S  WAR.  173 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   HOUR    AKD    THE   MAN. 

The  situation  as  between  Rosecrans  and  Bragg,  from 
the  close  of  Wednesday's  figliting  up  to  3  o'clock  on 
Friday,  was  tersely  summed  up  by  our  plain-speaking  Nat, 
when  he  said  that  "one  was  afraid  and  the  other 
darsen't!" 

General  Rosecrans  was  well  content  to  remain  quiet, 
for  every  moment  so  gained  was  used  to  reorganize  and 
revive  and  supply  his  armj'.  He  had  evidently'  been 
quite  deceived  as  to  the  ability  if  not  the  strength  of  the 
enemy  in  his  front ;  and  in  the  process  of  being  unde- 
ceived had  conceived  a  great  respect  for  his  adversary — 
very  difiEerent  from  the  opinion  he  held  when,  debonair 
and  confident,  he  had  moved  out  from  his  camps  near 
Nashville. 

His  new  position  was  very  strong;  but  while  he  may 
have  felt  satisfied  that  he  could  resist  attack,  there  is  not 
lacking  a  plenty  of  evidence  going  to  show  that  the  idea 
of  moving  forward,  of  assuming  the  offensive,  lay  so  very 
remotely  before  him  that  he  had  not  thought  it  worthy 
of  present  consideration.  In  short,  he  was  glad  of  the 
chance  to  rest  and  recuperate;  but  had  no  sort  of  definite 
purpose  to  take  the  aggressive. 

But  sometimes  there  is  a  Power  higher  even  than  the 
general  in  command,  to  decide  the  fate  of  the  battle  in 
compliance  with  a  plan  in  the  framing  of  which  the  gen- 
eral has  had  no  hand.  There  never  was  a  general  in  the 
American  army  who  could  with  any  sort  of  accuracy  fore- 
tell the  issue  of  an  engagement  with  the  enemy,  of 
coui'se.  The  one  who  could  come  the  nearest  to  it  was 
George  H.  Thomas — but  he  could  not,  perhaps,  always 
do  so. 


174  god's  wak. 

An  idiot  once  said  that  "It  is  the  unexpected  which 
always  happens,"  as  if  it  ^vould  be  unexpected  if  it  were 
not  a  "happening;"  and  the  world  has  been  so  caught 
by  the  turn  of  the  phrase  that  it  is  on  every  tongue,  and 
I  was  about  to  use  it  here  myself. 

If  a  general  could  take  into  consideration  all  the  pos- 
sibilities along  with  the  probabilities  in  forecasting  his 
battle  he  would  not  even  then  by  any  means  have  covered 
the  field ;  for  there  are  contingencies  lying  in  the  vague 
region  of  the  impossibilities,  as  we  call  them,  which  play 
the  chief  part  sometimes  on  such  occasions.  And  who 
can  weigh  and  estimate  them?  There  are  "chances," 
so  called,  which  lie  in  the  purposes  of  that  higher  Power 
and  which  are  bej^ond  mortal  ken.  You  may  believe  that 
you  have  the  Lord  on  j'our  side,  and  knoxo  that  the 
heaviest  battalions  and  the  best  position  are  with  you, 
and  then  you  may  go  swaggering  forth  like  a  lazy  care- 
less Goliath  only  to  meet  your  half-naked  little  David 
and  receive  your  death-blow. 

At  3  o'clock  on  Friday  afternoon  neither  General  Eose- 
crans  nor  the  man  who  accomplished  it  for  him  had  the 
slightest  notion  that  in  two  hours'  time  the  long  struggle 
would  be  over  and  Murfreesboro  would  be  won.  The 
outlook  was  dark  and  gloomy  to  the  Union  commander 
at  that  hour — perhaps  darker  even  than  it  was  at  1 
o'clock  on  Wednesday  afternoon — and  the  sun  that  was 
so  soon  to  shine  upon  him  sent  no  ray  in  advance  to 
herald  its  rising. 

Although  it  may  not  have  occurred  to  him.  General 
Rosecrans'  chief  strength  lay  in  the  circumstance  that  he 
had  at  his  back,  under  his  command,  an  army  which 
would  fight  ten  times  more  stubbornly  than  it  had  fought 
on  Wednesday,  if  such  a  thing  were  possible;  because  it 
had  been  whipped  and  was  consumed  with  a  fever  to 
retaliate.  The  men  of  that  army  watched  for  their 
opportunity  with  eyes  red  and  bloodshot,  with  angry 
impatience  and  devouring  chagrin. 

With  General  Bragg  things  were  somewhat  different. 
He  had  won  on  Wednesday',  but  at  a  fearful  cost. 
Doubtless  he  would  have  been  greatly  relieved  if  he  could 
have   gotten   away  from   Eosecrans'  front,   quietly   and 


god's  war.  175 

bouorably ;  for  then  he  wouhl  have  felt  that  his  laurels 
were  secure  for  all  time;  while,  so  long  as  he  was  com- 
pelled to  face  Rosecrans,  they  were  in  danger.  Still,  he 
was  in  much  the  better  plight — or  thought  he  was,  which 
amounted  to  much  the  same  thing.  He  had  an  army  of 
exultant  men  behind  him,  ready  to  go  into  another  fight 
with  all  the  reckless  enthusiasm  that  victory  gives;  and 
as  the  chances  are  usually  weighed,  this  conferred  upon 
him  a  great  advantage.  But  the  imposition  of  the  ne- 
cessity to  be  swaggering  and  defiant  which  was  up6n  him 
then,  is  never  without  its  drawbacks.  I  don't  believe  he 
felt  like  it,  but  he  was  compelled  to  constantly  make  a 
show  of  offering  the  offensive — and  Bragg  was  too  good 
a  soldier  not  to  know  that  every  time  he  thus  demon- 
strated be  opened  himself  up  to  a  range  of  dreadful  pos- 
sibilities and  hidden  chances;  and  in  so  far,  weakened 
himself. 

He  must  have  been  annoyed  at  the  strength  of  the 
position  Rosecrans  had  taken  up  on  Wednesday  afternoon  ; 
the  Union  general  had  skillfully  chosen  it  when  his  dis- 
aster was  at  its  height — and  therein  is  testimony  of  his 
soldierly  greatness.  During  all  of  Thursday  and  Friday 
up  to  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  he  wascoi^stantly  feeling 
the  Union  lines  for  a  weak  place,  and  apparently  finding 
none — for,  as  to  its  front,  the  Union  army  was  as  round 
and  smooth  as  a  ball,  with  never  a  crack  nor  crevice  into 
which  he  could  have  thrust  the  point  of  a  cambric  needle, 
even.  During  these  two  days  his  cavalry  were  circling 
around  Rosecrans'  army,  burning  trains,  capturing  stores 
and  animals  and  frightening  the  stragglers,  teamsters 
and  sutlers  out  of  their  wits;  but  especially  charged,  as 
Bragg  himself  testifies,  to  ascertain  whether  the  Union 
army  was  in  retreat.  The  urgency  with  which  he  re- 
peated these  instructions  brings  up  the  recollection  of  the 
hero  who  had  the  bear  by  the  tail  and  therefore  at  a 
great  disadvantage,  but  who  dared  not  let  go.  Bragg 
feared  that  he  must  fight,  sooner  or  later ;  and  knew  that 
the  later  it  should  be  that  he  fell  upon  his  adversary  the 
more  dangerous  it  would  be  to  him  and  the  honors  he 
had  already  achieved. 

"While  it  is  no  part   of  my  purpose  to  give   anything 


176  r.OD'S   WAR. 

more  than  the  general  outlines  of  this  great  battle,  con- 
tenting myself  when  I  corae  to  details  with  narx'ating 
only  those  things  which  I  saw  myself,  I  have  taken 
pains  to  give  those  outlines  with  such  accuracy  as  the 
historical  material  available  will  permit.  But,  of  course, 
in  doing  this  I  do  not  propose  to  hold  myself  bound  to 
accept  the  theories  of  historians  as  to  what  were  or  may 
have  been  the  purposes  of  the  two  commanders  from  time 
to  time  in  that  nine-days'  coutlict.  For  instance,  I  dis- 
sent, after  long  studj',  from  the  generally  accepted  belief 
that  the  purpose  of  the  movement  on  Bragg's  right,  under 
command  of  Breckinridge,  Friday  afternoon,  was  simply 
to  make  Polk's  right  more  secure  by  driving  from 
their  position  the  Union  troops  whose  fire,  if  they  should 
open  fire,  would  enfilade  the  fighting  bishop's  line, 
Bragg  says  that  this  was  his  purpose;  but  soldiers  some- 
times, missing  their  objective,  find  it  policy  to  declare 
that  they  had  something  else  in  mind. 

In  the  first  place  the  troops  which  Bragg  said  could 
enfilade  Polk's  line,  were  not  at  all  on  the  offensive,  nor 
was  there  any  reason  to  believe  tljat  thej'  would  be  so 
put.  Doubtless  Bragg  knew  that  they  were  thrown 
across  the  river  (I  vvill  make  this  plain  further  on) 
more  than  anything  else  to  strengthen  the  weak  place  in 
the  Union  line,  if  there  was  a  weak  place.  In  the  second 
place  notwithstanding  the  terror  which  military  writers 
all  display  for  it,  an  enfilading  fire  is  not  the  one  to  be 
the  most  dreaded,  and  Polk  had  a  dozen  ways  of  avoiding 
its  evil  effects  if  it  should  ever  be  opened  upon  him.  In 
the  third  place  Bragg  knew  that  the  Union  right  was 
entirely  beyond  his  reach  unless  he  should  shift  the  great 
bulk  of  his  army  some  miles  toward  Nashville,  which 
would  of  course  leave  Murfreesboro  and  his  lines  of  com- 
munication unprotected.  The  center  was  as  round  and 
safe  as  skill  could  make  it.  He  knew,  I  repeat,  that  if 
there  was  a  weak  point  on  the  line,  it  was  where  the 
Union  left  flank  touched  and  crossed  the  stream — Stone 
River;  and  he  knew  that  if  he  could  break  the  line  there 
he  could  throw  his  assaulting  column  into  the  rear  of  the 
semicircular  Union  line,  when,  with  his  numerous  troops 
in  front  to  attack  promptly,  he  would  be  in  a  fair  way  to 


GOD'S   WAR.  177 

repeat  his  success  of  Wednesday.  I  regard  it  as  an  evi- 
dence that  this  was  Lis  purpose,  that  he  gave  to  Breckin- 
ridge at  least  ten  thousand  infantry,  two  fresh  batteries 
to  reinforce  those  he  ah-eady  had,  and  two  thousand 
cavah'y  under  Wharton  and  Pegram,  to  constitute  the 
assaulting  column.  The  line  which  he  says  he  sent 
Breckinridge  to  dislodge,  did  not  comprise,  at  the  most, 
more  than  three  or  four  thousand  men ;  and  to  drive 
these  from  an  unprotected  position  and  one  of  no  great 
natural  strength,  would  not  call  for  so  large  a  force  as  he 
saw  fit  to  send  forth. 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  his  subsequent  general- 
ship, it  cannot  be  quesitoned  that  at  Stone  Eiver  Bragg 
bore  himself  as  a  bold  and  skillful  fighter;  and  I  do  not 
hesitate  to  say  that  but  for  "John  F. "  and  his  Seventh 
Brigade,  the  rebels  would  have  broken  the  Union  line  on 
the  left  and  gained  the  rear  of  the  semicircular  formation 
in  which  the  Union  army  was  posted ;  and  the  disaster 
of  Wednesday  would  have  been  repeated  with  the  still 
more  evil  result  that  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  would 
have  been  wiped  out  of  existence. 

And  w^hile  I  am  not  writing  a  history,  yet  I  make  no 
apology  for  straightening  out  the  tangle  in  which  has 
been  involved  one  of  the  most  brilliant  exploits  of  the 
whole  war,  namely,  the  charge  across  the  river  on  Friday 
afternoon,  at  Stone  Eiver,  The  unworthj'  ambitions  of 
men  have  obscured  the  truth.  I  will  try  to  do  no  injus- 
tice to  any  man;  but  whatever  happens  I  will  do  justice 
to  the  one  man  who  is  entitled  to  the  credit  for  the  salva- 
tion of  the  army  that  day,  if  my  poor  powers  are  equal 
to  the  work.  With  the  modesty  of  true  merit  he  never 
engaged  in  the  scramble  with  the  pretenders  for  the 
honor  which  belongs  to  him  alone. 

The  line  upon  which  Breckinridge  made  his  assault 
was  commanded  by  Colonel  Samuel  Beatty  and  was  com- 
posed of  Van  Cleve's  division,  numbering-  less  than  three 
thousand  men.  Grose's  brigade,  numbering,  perhaps, 
twelve  hundred  men,  was  in  the  timber  on  Van  Cleve's 
(Beatty 's)  left,  but  not  in  position  it  would  seem,  to  be 
of  service.  These  troops  had  been  placed  across  the 
rivei*  on  Thursday  evening,  and  from  that  time  had  not 


178  GOD'S  WAR. 

been  engaged  up  to  3  o'clock  Friday  afternoon  except  in 
the  way  of  light  skirmishing  and  an  artillery'  duel  or  so, 
harmless  in  effect,  if  noisy.  The  Seventh  Brigade,  with 
the  division  to  which  it  belonged  (Negley's)  had  been 
brought  from  another  part  of  the  field,  and  posted  a  little 
back  from  the  stream,  but  where  the  troops  on  the  other 
side  could  be  plainly  seen. 

The  day  was  cold  and  rainy;  there  was  no  comfort  to 
be  had  in  any  part  of  the  field,  where,  with  dreary  mo- 
notony, mud  and  water  uniformb'  prevailed.  There  were 
no  fires  and  no  fuel  with  which  to  make  fires.  There  was 
nothing  to  eat  or  drink  which  would  put  the  warmth  of 
life  into  a  man.  Our  soldiers  were  worn  out  and  ex- 
hausted, and  only  kept  alive  by  the  hope  that  something 
would  turn  up  to  give  them  another  chance  at  the  ene- 
mj';  and  while  this  hope  kept  them  up  to  the  point  of 
<;ndurance  it  raade  them  grim  and  stern  and  wickedly 
quiet.  The  manner  in  Avhich  they  eyed  the  general  or 
staff-officers  as  they  rode  by,  as  if  they  would  read  in 
their  faces  the  welcome  news  that  the  fight  would  soon 
begin  or  know  the  reason  why,  showed  how  deeply  they 
were  smarting  under  the  humiliation  of  their  recent 
defeat,  and  how  they  yearned  to  retaliate  at  any  cost. 

For  perhaps  an  hour  everj-thing  had  been  exasper- 
atiugly  quiet.  Then  all  at  once,  away  over  toward  the 
center,  the  Confederate  artillery  begun  a  furious  cannon- 
ading; and  instantly  all  eyes  and  thoughts  were  turned 
that  way.  It  was  Bragg 's  feint  to  draw  attention  from 
his  real  purpose;  and  it  was  successful;  for,  despite 
official  reports  to  the  contrary,  there  were  few,  perhaps 
none,  who  dreamed  that  an  attack  was  about  to  be  made 
on  Van  Cleve's  division.  So  that,  almost  before  he  was 
observed  at  all,  Breckinridge,  with  his  regiments  massed 
on  the  center  and  square  after  square  follow iug  on  till 
the  array  seemed  irresistible  even  if  we  had  had  ten 
times  the  force  to  face  it,  caine  suddenlj'  sweeping  down 
on  the  thin  line  deployed  in  front  of  the  river. 

It  was  a  grand  sight,  and  yet  a  terrible  one,  to  see  him 
move  majestically  forward — and  there  is  an  indescribable 
majesty  in  masses  of  well  trained,  well  disciplined  men 
under  arms  and  going  calmly  to  their  horrid  work — re- 


god's  war.  179 

ceiving  the  tire  of  Van  Cleve's  skirmishers,  and  even  of 
a  battery  or  two,  but  making  no  sign,  until  the  proiier 
position  bad  been  reached. 

Then  he  poured  in  a  volle.\-  under  which  the  earth 
rocked  and  the  heavens  rang! — musketry  and  artillery 
roai*ed  and  crashed  as  if  to  annihilate  the  devoted  band 
upon  whom  their  leaden  and  iron  missiles  were  showered  ! 
As  Van  Cleve's  heroes  warmed  to  their  work  and  replied 
with  such  effectiveness  as  they  could,  Breckinridge's 
men  halted ;  and  for  a  few  minutes  the  sadly  unequal 
conflict  went  on. 

But  not  for  long!  The  history  of  "Wednesday  was  re- 
peated in  small,  and  slowly  but  surely  Van  Cleve's  men 
were  forced  back,  into  the  stream  and  across  it,  through 
the  lines  of  the  Seventh  Brigade  and  beyond,  where  they 
halted  to  reform. 

And  with  a  shrill  shriek  of  victory  from  ten  thousand 
throats  the  Confederates  rushed  up  to  the  bank  of  the 
stream,  and  begun  to  cross! 

Once  they  were  over  and  had  gotten  a  footing,  we  have 
seen  what  the  consequences  would  have  been ! 

Surely,  now  there  is  no  time  to  be  lost! 

Thank  God,  no  time  was  lost! 

Colonel  John  F.  Miller,  commander  of  the  Seventh 
Brigade,  and  known  to  us  so  far  as  "old  John  F. "  the 
name  given  him  by  the  men  he  commanded,  sat  upon  his 
horse  watching  with  growing  impatience  the  assault  upon 
Van  Cleve.  To  him  came  colonels  and  majors  and  cap- 
tains commanding  regiments  and  batteries  in  the  divi- 
sion, for  counsel  and  guidance. 

Instinctively  they  turned  to  him — so  quickly  does 
capacity  and  born  leadership  in  a  man  manifest  itself  and 
win  recognition.  But,  indeed,  aside  from  this,  if  the 
colonels  and  majors  and  captains  had  not  been  drawn 
thus  instinctively  to  Colonel  Miller  and  had  been  minded 
to  seek  their  brigade  and  division  commanders  for  in- 
structions, they  would  not  have  found  them.  For,  while 
a  careful  perusal  of  the  various  official  reports  of  the 
affair  will  put  a  picture  in  your  mind  of  a  most  imposing 
and  awfully  majestic  array  of  generals  and  colonels  full 
upon  the  scene,  sitting  grim  and  threatening  upon  fiery 


ISO  god's  war. 

he-chavgers  and  sternb'  waiting  the  moment  when  thoy 
shoukl  fall  upon  and  consume  the  enemy,  horse,  foot  and 
artillery,  yet  in  point  of  fact,  as  this  present  writer  well 
knows,  there  was  "neither  hair  nor  hide"  of  them  to  be 
found  anywhere  near  the  scene. 

Miller  sent  his  staff  officers  and  orderlies.  Lieutenant 
(afterward  Brigadier-General)  Henry  M.  Cist,  Lieuten- 
ant Frank  I.  Tedford,  Captain  Cheney,  Lieutenant  Ayers, 
and  Major  A.  B.  Bonnaffin  (I  repeat  that  I  am  writing 
now  from  what  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes  and  heard  with 
my  own  ears),  to  scour  the  field  to  find  a  general  officer 
and  ask  permission  to  cross  the  stream  to  Van  Cleve's 
relief.  Only  one  such  officer  was  found  General  John 
-M.  Palmer  (of  Illinois),  and  from  him  came,  instead 
of  the  desired  permission,  a  positive  prohibition — an 
order  not  to  cross.  The  other  two  brigade  commanders, 
belonging  to  the  division,  General  Speer  of  Tennessee, 
and  Colonel  T.  R.  Stanley,  of  the  Eighteenth  Ohio,  each 
ranking  Miller,  were  not  present.  General  Negley,  the 
division  commander,  was  not  to  be  found. 

This  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the  circumstance  here- 
tofore set  forth,  namely,  that  the  general  attention  was 
attracted  by  the  heavy  connonading  to  the  right  under 
cover  of  which  it  was  believed  an  assault  would  be  made 
upon  the  left  center.  While  our  generals  were  busy 
watching  for  this  assault  with  a  view  to  meet  it,  the  real 
assault  was  a  surprise  to  them.  The  thing  that  it  is 
difficult  to  understand  in  this  matter,  is  why  these  un- 
questionably brave  and  skillful  soldiers  should  not  have 
admitted  this  bj'  no  means  discreditable  fact. 

The  plain  truth  is  that  in  the  absence  of  any  one  from 
whom  to  receive  definite  orders  Colonel  Miller  found 
himself  in  a  most  embarrassing  position,  with  a  tremen- 
dous responsibility  suddenly  thrust  upon  him.  Both  the 
embarrassment  and  responsibility  were  heightened,  of 
course,  by  tlie  fact  that  the  one  general  officer  who  could 
be  found  ordered  him  not  to  cross  the  stream;  in  the 
circumstance  that  this  officer,  however,  was  not  the  com- 
mander of  the  division  to  which  Miller  belonged,  lay, 
perhaps,  an  excuse  for  disregarding  his  order  in  case  of 
an   emergency   faintly   warranting  such   disregard    even 


GOD'S  WAR.  181 

though  he  was  the  ranking  officer  in  that  part  of  the 
field. 

A  man  less  resolute  would  have  felt  amply  justified  in 
hesitating;  and  when,  afterward  reproached  for  the  de- 
plorable consequences  that  must  have  ensued,  he  would 
have  had  no  trouble  to  clear  himself  upon  technical 
grounds  before  the  world. 

Look  at  the  position  in  which  the  young  colonel  found 
himself:  The  enemy  in  great  strength  and  hot  and  ex- 
ultant with  the  victory  they  had  achieved  over  Van 
Cleve's  division  (and  doubtless  impressed  by  this  repe- 
tition of  Weduesdaj^'s  success  that  they  were  destined 
always  to  succeed),  were  on  the  one  bank  of  the  narrow 
stream  and  already  beginning  to  cross  over;  if  they 
should  cross  they  would  break  the  Union  line  and  unques- 
tionably capture  one-third  of  all  the  artillery  belonging 
to  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland;  their  comrades  witness- 
ing their  success  would  at  once  accept  it  as  the  signal  to 
move  forward,  and  the  consequence  would  have  been, 
no  doubt,  irremediable  disaster. 

The  Union  troops  facing  Breckinridge  and  separated 
from  him  by  the  narrow  stream  formed  a  thin,  single 
line,  of  not  more  than  twenty-five  hundred  men,  if  so 
many.  They  could  not  have  resisted  an  assault  from 
Breckinridge;  the  mere  weight  of  his  columns  would 
have  broken  them  like  a  rope  of  sand.  Standing  still 
and  receiving  an  assault  they  possessed  a  given  strength ; 
thrown  forward  with  furious  impetuosity,  that  strength 
Avould  be  greatly  increased. 

Miller  found  himself  the  ranking  officer  present  with 
the  division,  and  realized  that  the  decision,  fraught  with 
so  much  importance,  lay  with  him.  He  was  surrounded 
by  a  group  of  regimental  commanders  who  alternately 
studied  the  field  and  his  face.  He  had  been  ordered  not 
to  cross.  If  in  disregard  of  this  order  he  should  cross, 
one  of  two  things  would  happen — either  he  would  suc- 
ceed or  fail;  succeed  in  at  least  giving  the  enemy  a 
check  and  thus  gaining  time  for  fresh  troops  to  come  up 
to  resist  him,  or  fail  to  do  anything  more  than  fruitlessly 
sacrifice  a  number  of  human  lives  and  in  his  overthrow 
give  ground  for  the  discouragement  and  disheartening  of 


183  GOD'S   WAR. 

the  Union  Army.  More — if  he  succeeded,  his  termerity 
might  be  excused,  but  if  he  lost  it  would  doubtless  cost 
him  his  comuiission  aud  send  him  to  the  rear  in  disgrace. 

Then,  what  were  his  chances  of  success?  He  knew 
that  the  Seventh  Brigade,  then  numbering  perhaps  fifteen 
hundred  men  would  follow  him — for  he  had  learned  that 
they  would  go  anywhere  that  he  might  lead,  only  asking 
that  he  should  lead.  But  how  many  more  in  the  divi- 
sion could  he  count  on?  If  he  should  get  them  all  to 
follow  him  he  would  not  have  to  exceed  twenty-five  hun- 
dred men,  and  that  number  was  very  small  compared 
with  the  great  swarming  host  over  yonder,  numerous 
enough  to  swallow  him  up  and  pursue  their  way  without 
a  perceptible  halt.  Would  they  realize  the  audacitj'  of 
such  a  forlorn  hope  adventure,  or  would  they  think  he 
was  but  the  advance  of  a  still  larger  force,  aud,  pausing, 
give  him  time  to  damage  them  at  all? 

Here  the  lay  of  the  ground  favored  him.  The  stream 
ran  between  bluffy  banks,  perhaps  twelve  or  fifteen  feet 
in  height ;  on  the  side  where  Miller  sat  upon  his  horse, 
pondering,  the  bluff  receded  back  from  the  stream  like 
the  outside  wall  of  an  earthwork,  only  with  more  of  a 
scoop,  sloping  down,  so  that  a  very  large  force  might  lie 
there  for  all  that  the  rebels  could  see.  If  he  made  his 
charge  with  impetuosity  and  confidence,  with  his  small 
force,  would  not  the  enemy  reasonably  conclude  from  the 
very  meagerness  of  his  numbers  and  force  of  his  assault 
that  he  must  have  an  ample  reserve  back  of  the  bluff?  It 
would  depend  largely  upon  this  whether  his  movement 
would  be  a  success. 

It  has  taken  me  some  little  time  to  write  out  the  de- 
scription of  the  thoughts  that  must  have  passed  through 
the  commander's  mind  while  he  was  reaching  a  conclu- 
sion. It  Avill  take  you  less  time  to  read  them.  But  the 
mental  process  with  him  was  swift  as  lightning.  He 
turned  to  the  officers  around  him,  saying  quietly  : 

"I  will  charge  them!" 

His  manner  showed  that  he  had  duly  weighed  all  the 
circumstances  and  had  decided,  once  for  all. 

"And  I'll  follow  you!"  exclaimed  the  gallant  Scott, 
wheeling  aud  plunging  his  spurs  into  his  steed,  to  hasten 
back  to  his  regiment  (the  Nineteenth  Illinois). 


god's  war.  183 

Colonel  Scott's  regiment  belonged  to  the  senior  brigade 
of  the  division  and  that  officer's  alacrity  gave  Miller  a 
thrill  of  satisfaction  as  he  realized  that  he  could  count 
on  help  outside  of  his  brigade.  Colonel  Stoughton  of 
the  Eleventh  Michigan  and  other  regimental  commanders 
belonging  to  the  Twenty-ninth  Brigade,  echoed  Scott's 
enthusiastic  adherence,  and  they,  too,  started  for  their 
troops. 

Scott  was  a  handsome  man,  valiant,  j'oung,  daring  and 
indomitable,  with  the  pride  in  his  profession  that  must 
always  be  a  characteristic  of  the  true  soldier.  He  little 
thought  that  he  was  riding  off  to  death,  as  he  gayly 
galloped  over  to  his  command!     And  yet  it  was  so! 

There  was  no  difficulty  in  getting  the  men  to  move 
forward.  They  had  endured  the  terrible  strain  of  allow- 
ing Yan  Cleve's  men  to  pass  over  them  without  a  sign  of 
demoralization.  The  Twenty-first  lay  at  the  ford,  in 
the  bend  of  the  stream,  where  Van  Cleve's  artillery 
crossed;  and  to  see  the  brave  fellows  get  up  and  open 
ranks  to  let  the  horses  and  guns  pass  through  and  then 
stoically  lie  down  again  to  await  the  oncoming  of  the 
foe,  holding  their  fire  meantime  although  they  were  galled 
by  the  shots  of  the  enemy — to  see  this,  I  say,  was  to  see 
that  which  would  bring  the  salt  water  to  your  eyes  like 
the  sudden  gush  of  a  spring  rain. 

All  along  the  line  men  were  seen  to  jump  up  and  lope 
forward  to  the  crest  of  the  bluff  where  they  might  get 
better  aim — and  thus  they  gave  the  rebels  one  good  vol- 
ley before  the  command  to  charge  was  heard. 

And  then  by  four-fifths  of  them  it  was  not  heard,  l)ut 
seen;  when  "John  F. "  went  climbing  over  the  bluff  and 
dashing  down  to  the  water  on  his  bay  horse  they  knew 
what  it  meant;  he  was  leading  the  way  as  was  his  cus- 
tom, and  with  a  cheer  that  was  ringing  and  manly  even 
if  it  was  hoarse  they  followed  after,  wading  through 
water  churned  into  foam  by  the  bullets  of  the  rebels  not 
thirty  feet  away  and  tiring  down  upon  them  like  mad! 

It  was  a  sight  to  remember  to  your  dying  day  to  see 
those  men  crossing  the  stream  quiet,  but  eager  and  in- 
tent as  if  they  had  been  starved  and  were  hastening  to  a 
wedding  feast,  carefully  lifting  their  cartridge-boxes  so 


184:  god's  war. 

that  no  water  might  get  into  their  ammunition,  and 
paying  no  more  attention  to  the  fire  of  the  enemy  than 
they  would  to  the  buzzing  of  a  swarm  of  summer  gnats. 

The  long-looked-for  chance  to  get  even  had  come,  and 
they  meant  business!  There  was  no  nonsense  about  it! 
Thej'  would  have  charged  the  whole  rebel  army  at  that 
moment,  and  under  the  circumstances,  without  the 
slightest  hesitation. 

Has  it  ever  been  your  fortune  to  receive  a  charge  from 
an  enemy  who  came  steadily  up  to  his  work  without  the 
firing  of  a  gun — ^hasteningand  eager,  and  yet  calmly  and 
sternly  marching  on  to  destroy  you  without  deigning  to 
notice  the  furious  fire  you  were  pouring  into  him  ?  If  so 
you  know  how  terrible  ne  appears.  If  he  comes  shouting 
and  shooting  he  is  not  a  hundredth  part  so  terrifying. 
You  may  outnumber  him  ten  to  one,  and  yet  he  comes 
on  with  such  calm  but  reckless  impetuosity  that  you 
know  he  means  to  do  tjou  mischief,  the  every  worst  he 
can  do,  whatever  may  happen  to  him.  He  appears  to 
have  lost  all  thought  or  care  for  himself,  whether  he  lives 
or  dies  is  a  matter  of  indifference  to  him — but  he  means 
at  all  events  to  kill  you.  There  is  that  in  such  an 
enemy's  aspect  which  startles  you  and  saps  your  courage 
though  you  may  be  as  brave  as  Julius  C?esar.  You  re- 
alize that  it  will  be  of  no  avail  to  expect  anything  rea- 
sonable from  him  any  more  than  from  a  raving  maniac — 
he  will  never  know  when  he  is  whipped — he  will  never 
cease  fighting  till  he  is  dead,  and  if  you  don't  kill  him 
he  will  kill  you.  Desperation  breeds  this  sort  of  courage 
in  some  men;  to  others  a  sense  of  unmerited  humiliation 
will  bring  it;  whether  it  comes  from  either  of  these 
causes  you  may  pray  Heaven  to  be  delivered  from  an 
adversary  having  it. 

Like  wild  beasts  springing  upon  their  prey  and  too 
hungry  to  roar,  the  men  of  the  Seventh  Brigade  with  the 
comrades  who  so  generously  came  to  their  assistance 
from  the  Twenty-ninth  Brigade  rushed  upon  Breckin- 
ridge's men,  suddenly  grown  round-eyed  with  astonish- 
ment. And  at  their  front  their  leader  seemed  to  give  the 
cue  and  invite  their  imitation. 

In  the  middle  of  the  stream  one  of  Miller's  staff  officers. 


GOD*S  WAR.  185 

Lieutenant  Tedford,  who  had  been  sent  to  find  a  general 
ufficer  who  would  authorize  the  charge,  returned  and 
gave  the  young  colonel  an  order  which  he  had  received 
from  the  same  general  who  had  forbidden  the  assault. 

"General  Palmer  says  you  must  not  cross  the  river " 

'  'It  is  too  late  now — "  answered  Miller ;  then  he  glanced 
anxiously  at  the  men  who  were  following  him  ;  what  he 
saw  in  their  faces  sent  the  blood  bounding  through  his 
veins  like  tire;  a  glance  at  the  bluff  from  which  the 
enemy  were  tiring  showed  that  they  were  beginning  to 
waver;  this  swept  away  the  last  remnant  of  doubt  as  to 
the  success  of  his  bold  and  daring  adventure  and  his 
spirit  rose  like  the  surge  of  a  mighty  tide.  His  eyes 
Hashed  with  the  prescience  of  a  victory  already  won,  and 
his  voice  was  like  the  singing  of  the  trumpet  calling  to 
arms : 

"Go  tell  General  Eosecransto  send  me  another  brigade 

and  I'll  drive  them  to !" 

Never  mind  gentle  reader;  if  he  had  supposed  that  he 
was  going  to  give  utterance  to  anything  that  should 
become  historical  doubtless  he  would  have  been  more 
dainty  as  to  the  terms  in  which  he  couched  the  few  re- 
marks he  made  from  time  to  time  during  the  battle. 
But  he  was  not  thinking  of  anything  but  the  fighting  he 
had  in  hand  at  the  moment — and,  whatever  his  language, 
I  make  bold  to  say  that  it  was  to  the  point  and  precisely 
what  it  should  have  been  under  the  circumstances  and 
needs  no  sort  of  apology  from  the  present  writer — or  if 
it  does,  shall  have  none! 

And  if  you  had  seen  the  men  who  were  following  him, 
and  had  understood  the  significance  of  the  aspect  they 
showed,  you  would  not  have  thought  him  extravagant 
either  in  the  confidence  that  burned  within  him  nor  the 
words  in  which  he  voiced  it.  "With  dual  vision  they  saw 
both  the  enemy  on  the  bluff  and  "John  F."  tearing  pell- 
mell  to  get  at  them ;  and  they  accepted  his  draft  waiving 
notice  like  men  who  knew  they  had  the  wherewithal  to 
meet  it  without  delay  or  defalcation! 

A  second  of  time  suffices  sometimes  to  decide  a  great 
battle.  The  event  sometimes  moves  with  a  rapidity 
greater  than  the  powers  of  comparison  can  express. 


186  god's  war. 

The  effect  of  the  determined  and  headlong  onset  of 
]\Iiller  and  his  men  communicated  itself  like  a  thrill  of 
electricity  to  their  adversaries,  so  that,  whereas  the 
Union  soldiers  were  subjected  to  a  tremendous  fire  from 
the  rebels  while  they  were  wading  across  the  narrow 
stream,  yet  when  they  got  to  the  bluff  they  found  that 
the  rebels  had  fallen  back  and  left  them  ample  room  for  a 
footing. 

Then  begun  the  trial  which  was  crucial,  and  upon  the 
hazardous  result  of  which  depended  everything  after  all. 
For  some  moments  the  air  was  white  with  sulphur  smoke 
and  the  rattl*^  of  musketry  was  appalling.  Surely  this 
little  band  cannot  resist  an  overwhelming  force  in  such  a 
duel  as  this?  Ah!  No  one  in  the  ranks  of  the  bluecoats 
harbored  this  doubt.  They  were  set  to  conquer  and  that 
without  any  ifs  or  ands  or  buts. 

And  they  did!  The  effect  produced  by  the  charge 
still  drove  the  rebels  back — and  after  a  few  minutes  of 
firing,  during  which  the  mortality  was  simjily  astound- 
ing especially  among  the  Confederates,  thickly  massed 
together  so  that  a  bullet  could  scarcely  fail  to  find  a  vic- 
tim— the  retrograde  movement  was  resumed,  and  soon 
degenerated  into  a  perfect  rout. 

The  bluecoats  Avere  filled  with  a  joy  which  can  have  no 
parallel  in  anything  different!  They  yelled,  they  jumped 
and  leaped  from  the  ground  as  they  pursued  their  flying 
foe;  they  were  like  men  intoxicated — indeed  they  M'ere 
drunk  with  the  divine  delirium  of  hardly-earned  victory 
snatched  from  the  yawning  jaws  of  a  terrible  defeat! 
How  they  did  it  I  cannot  explain,  neither,  I  take  it, 
could  one  of  the  participants  surviving  tell  you  to-day, 
but  with  all  their  joyful  antics  and  rapturous  yelling  they 
managed  to  load  and  fire,  pouring  a  tremendously  hot 
shower  of  shot  into  the  rear  of  the  Johnnies,  so  that  they 
might  not  forget  to  keep  on  a  tight  run !  The  artillery 
too,  upon  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  on  a  spot  near  to 
that  which  the  charging  column  had  but  just  left,  so  soon 
as  the  rebels  got  far  enough  away  from  the  river  bank  to 
enable  them  to  get  the  range,  begun  to  pour  in  such  a 
shower  of  grape  and  canister  and  shot  and  shell  as  tore 
great  chunks  out  of  the  massed  solidity  of  the  Con- 
federates. 


.    GOD'S   WAR.  187 

A  funny  and  yet  sad  thing  happened  just  here. 

In  the  Twenty-first,  among  the  teamsters,  was  "Old 
Button."  If  he  ever  had  any  other  name  I  don't  know 
what  it  was.  Long  service  upon  the  Miami  and  Erie 
canal  had  ripened  his  odd  nature  into  one  of  the  oddest 
I  have  ever  met.  He  was  full  of  queer  quips  and  cranks, 
•  luaint  accomplishments  and  curious  stories.  One  of  his 
stories  ended  with  the  song  of  the  mule.  It  was  a  favor- 
ite diversion  of  the  idlers  of  the  regiment  to  have  "Old 
Button"  go  through  his  accomplishments,  including  of 
course  the  mule  story  with  the  song  of  that  bird  which  he 
called  "the  mule  reef"  and  which  he  gave  inimitably. 
When  Breckinridge's  men  had  fairly  got  started  to  run, 
and  were  plainly  of  no  mind  to  halt,  were  whipped,  and 
badly  whipped,  and  that  too  by  a  force  only  one-fourth 
their  number,  their  pursuers  were  as  we  have  seen  almost 
wild  with  triumphant  delight,  the  manifestation  of  which 
they  could  not  well  restrain,  but  gave  vent  to  in  various 
ways.  Among  those  who,  having  felt  the  humiliation  of 
Wednesday's  drubbing  most  deeply  were  now  most  re- 
joiced at  the  favorable  turn  they  had  given  to  things, 
was  a  gangling,  dirty,  Joosa-jointed,  tallow-faced  youth, 
a  member  of  Company  "I;"  and  he  turned  out  to  be  the 
man  for  the  occasion.  He  realized  perhaps  more  than 
others  how  useless  it  was  to  try  to  express  the  gratification 
they  all  felt  by  any  ordinary  means.  And  he  turned  it 
over  in  his  mind  as  they  ran  and  yelled  and  fired.  Some- 
thing extraordinary  would  have  to  be  done. 

At  last  the  flash  of  inspiration  came  to  him  and  he 
acted  upon  it  without  hesitation.  Springing  like  a  deer 
from  the  line  of  his  comrades  he  made  a  most  tremendous 
spurt  till  he  had  reached  a  point  far  in  advance  and  yet 
in  plain  view.  Here,  placing  his  musket  against  a  tree, 
he  made  a  trumpet  of  his  hands  and  bowing  his  back  and 
humping  his  shoulders,  he  sent  after  the  panic-stricken 
rebels  such  a  roar  of  hee-haws  as  never  before  had  smit- 
ten high  Heaven  as  a  pean  of  victory! 

And  then,  sounding  strangely  enough  in  the  midst  of 
such  dreadful  business  and  fairly  drowning  the  groans 
and  shrieks  of  the  wounded  and  dying,  came  a  vast  roar 
of  laughter  shaking  the  leaves  on  the  trees  and   sending 


188  COD'S    WAR. 

the  thick  sraoke  hitlier  and  you  in  great  jolly,  fleec}', 
rollickiug  waves — and  the  loose-jointed,  tallow-faced  boy 
became  a  hero,  and  has  so  remained,  for  in  the  act  he 
was  shot  dead. 

A  rebel  battery  in  the  immediate  front  of  our  charging 
column  eave  us  great  trouble,  and  Colonel  ]\Iiller,  dis- 
mounting from  his  horse,  drew  his  saber  and  led  a  charge 
upon  it  If  it  had  been  supported  by  a  million  of  sol- 
diers the  Seventh  Brigade  would  have  taken  it!  And 
although  the  rebels  held  its  fire  until,  when  the  guns 
were  at  length  discharged  the  men  seemed  blinded  and 
scorched  by  the  flash  of  its  flames,  it  was  hauled  off  in 
triumph  by  the  Twenty-first  Ohio,  while  at  the  same 
moment  a  stand  of  colors  was  captured  from  the  enemy, 
by  the  Seventy-eighth  Pennsylvania. 

A  mile  had  been  traversed,  perhaps,  in  the  triumphant 
charge,  when  Miller  saw  evidences  that  he  was  about  to 
encounter  fresh  troops.  He  thei'efore  halted  his  men 
and  while  aligning  them  so  as  to  resist  the  anticipated 
attack  other  brigades  and  divisions  led  by  such  heroes 
as  Hazen,  Hascall,  and  others  came  pouring  over  the 
stream  hot  and  ^ager  to  finish  the  fight. 

The  battle  was  ended  and  the  victory  won!  For  that 
same  night  Bragg  began  his  preparations  to  retreat  and 
in  thirty-six  hours  had  the  bulk  of  his  arm.y  at  Shelby- 
ville,  twenty-eight  miles  away.  During  Saturday  and 
Sunday  his  skirmishers  kept  up  only  such  a  show  of 
fighting  as  would  suffice  to  keep  Eosecrans  from  driving 
liis  (Bragg's)  army  to  utter  destruction.  "While  nothing 
Avould  have  pleased  his  men  better  than  to  have  gone 
forward,  yet  the  wisdom  of  Eosecrans  in  foregoing  such 
a  movement  cannot  be  doubted.  Eight  daj'sof  marching 
and  fighting  in  a  very  rough  country,  amid  pouring  De- 
cember rains  and  subsisting  on  less  than  half-rations  all 
the  time  and  corn  parched  on  the  cob  and  horse  meat  for 
a  part  of  the  time,  having  lost  over  twentj^  per  cent  of 
their  number  in  battle  (the  loss  in  Miller's  brigade  was 
over  thirty-five  per  cent.),  woin  out,  and  their  ammuni- 
tion exhausted,  with  thousands  of  rebel  cavalry  watching 
the  pike  over  which  their  supplies  must  come,  between 
the  battlefield  and  Nashville,   it  would  have  been  folly  to 


god's  war.  189 

have  essayed  further  fighting,  tempting  as  the  circum- 
stances were. 

It  was  a  glorious  victory,  gloriously  achieved ;  and  we 
have  seen  as  history  will  impartially  record  it  some  day, 
how  and  by  whom  it  was  won.  No  doubt  other  men 
would  have  fought  as  well  as  those  Miller  led  at  Stoue 
Eiver,  had  they  been  handled  so  well.  And  it  is  possible 
that  another  would  have  handled  them  as  well — but  the 
facts  are  as  they  are,  and  speculation  cannot  tarnish  the 
laurels  that  were  won  in  that  great  struggle.  Besides — • 
well,  an  old  Spanish  proverb  comes  in  somewhere  just 
about  here — "Luck  has  a  mother's  love  for  skill!" 

And  I  don't  know  that  there  is  anything  in  particular 
the  matter  with  that  proverb.* 


*  In  bis  oflBcial  report  General  Rosecrans,  after  briefly  referring  to 
the  fact  that  at  3  o'clock  on  Friday  afternoon  Breckinridge  made 
an  attack  on  Van  Cleve  and  was  subsequently  repulsed,  says  signifi- 
cantly: 

"The  firing  was  terrific  and  the  havoc  terrible.  The  enemy  re- 
treated more  rapidly  than  they  had  advanced.  In  forty  minutes  they 
lost  two  thousand  men." 

Any  one  •who  passed  over  the  field  that  evening  as  I  did,  will  agree 
with  me  that  this  statement  is,  if  anything,  below  rather  than  above 
the  proper  figure. 

At  the  time  of  making  his  report  there  was  still  so  much  confusion 
as  to  the  facts  in  the  case  that  the  general  commanding  may  be  very 
readily  excused  for  not  giving  the  credit  of  the  affair  where  it  be- 
longed; especially  in  view  of  the  fact  that  Colonel  Miller  himself,  in 
his  own  report,  was  almost  criminally  modest  (if  I  may  so  phrase  it,) 
in  setting  forth  the  achievements  of  the  men  he  led  with  such  a  lack 
of  color  as  to  be  almost  unjust,  both  to  him  and  them. 

In  support  of  my  assertion  that  General  Rosecrans  did  not  after 
Wednesday's  defeat  contemplate  taking  the  aggressive,  at  least  for 
some  time,  and  up  to  the  moment  of  Miller's  charge  had  not  thought 
of  it,  I  refer  to  Van  Home's  "The  History  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumber- 
land," vol.  I,  p.  250.  This  work  has  peculiar  value  because  of  its  having 
been  written  by  the  Reverend  Thomas  B.  Van  Home,  D.D.,  Chaplain 
United  States  Army,  retired,  from  the  official  data  in  the  War  Depart- 
ment and  under  the  constant  advice  of  General  George  II.  Thomas, 
who,  from  the  day  of  its  formation  till  its  disbanding  was  the  back- 
bone and  brains  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  and  who  knew  more 
of  its  .secret  and  public  history  than  any  other  man  ever  connected 
with  it. 

I  am  aware  of  the  fact  that  Van  Home,  in  his  two  books,  the  one 
referred  to  above,  and  his  "  Life  of  General  George  H.  Thomas,"  has 


190  GOD'S  WAR. 

I  have  tried  to  give  au  idea  of  the  resolute  intrepidity 
of  the  men  who  followed  and  of  the  man  who  led  in  this 
charge.  I  have  that  feeling  of  sadness  as  I  look  over 
my  attempt  and  realize  its  shortcomings,  that  any  weakly 
limping  writer  must  have  when  the  conviction  is  forced 
upon  him  that  after  having  labored  honestly  and  zealously 
to  the  exhaustion  of  his  resources  he  has  failed  to  do 
more  than  to  outline,  dimly  and  imperfectly,  a  stor3' 
which  should  be  immortal. 

When  I  think  of  these  men  and  remember  that  they 
were  Americans,  the  pride  of  nationality  rises  within  me 


given  Colonel  (afterward  General)  Miller  the  credit  for  this  move- 
ment, as  have  also  General  Henry  M.  Cist  in  his  work  "The  Army  of 
the  Cumberland,"  and  Mr.  Stevenson  in  his  "  Battle  of  Stone  River." 
But  the  limits  which  tho.se  gentlemen  set  for  themselves  in  writing 
bald  history  would  not,  of  course,  permit  them  to  go  into  details  so 
fully  as  1  have  tried  to  do.  If  they  had  essayed  such  fullness  they 
would  have  been  writing  yet  (supposing  they  had  begun  at  the  close 
of  the  war,)  and  would  have  the  bulk  of  the  glorious  history  of  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland  still  in  their  ink  bottles. 

'I'here  is  a  trite  old  saying,  something  to  the  effect  that  you  must 
'*  wait  till  the  smoke  of  the  conflict  has  cleared  away"  before  you  can 
get  at  the  true  facts  as  to  its  details.  It  is  a  true  saying,  and  yet  one 
cannot  help  being  impatient  that  it  should  be  so. 

Now  as  to  the  battle  of  Stone  River,  in  which  from  eighty  to 
ninety  thousand  men  were  engaged,  with  an  aggregate  loss  of  some- 
where in  the  neighborhood  of  twenty  -thousand,  there  are  several 
facts  which  may  be  logically  stated  in  support  of  tiie  assertion  made 
heretofore  by  the  present  writer,  viz; 

1.  The  result  of  the  battle  of  Stone's  River  was  a  victory  to  the 
Union  Army. 

2.  From  the  time  that  the  two  armies  came  squarely  face  to  face, 
that  is,  Tuesday  evening,  up  to  Friday  afternoon,  the  history  of  that 
struggle  is  a  record  of  steady  defeat  for  the  Union  Army — except  in 
so  far  as  certain  encounters  between  outlying  detachments  on  the 
flanks  and  in  the  rear  are  concerned. 

3.  On  Friday  afternoon  the  Union  Army  gained  its  first  success,  in 
the  repulse  and  rout  of  the  rebel  force  under  Breckinridge. 

4.  That  repulse  was  achieved  by  the  7th  with  the  assistance  of  a 
part  of  the  29th  Brigade — that  is  to  say:  the  78th  Pennsylvania  In- 
fantry, 21st  Ohio  Infantry,  37th  Indiana  Infantry  and  74th  Ohio  In- 
fantry, comprising  the  7th  Brigade  and  the  19th  Illinois  Infantry, 
the  lith  Michigan  Infantry,  a  part  of  the  18th  and  a  part  of  the  COth 
Ohio  Infantry,  regiments  of  the  29th  Brigade. 

5.  Tlial  upon  this,  the  only  success  of  the  Union  Army  during  the 
entire  contest,  Bragg  evacuated  M urf reesboro,  the  objective  point — 
the  bone  of  contention. 


god's  war.  191 

and  I  lose  myself  in  a  dream   of  -what  my  country  may 
yet  produce  in  the  way  of  men.* 


••  Colonel  Miller  afterward  because  a  brigadier-general;  but  in  the  act 
of  gallantly  leading  bis  brigade  in  a  charge  at  Liberty  Gap  in  the  fol- 
lowing June,  he  was  struck  by  a  minie-ball  just  back  of  the  left  eye. 
It  was  thought  at  the  time,  by  the  surgeons,  unsafe  to  attempt  to  re- 
move  the  ball;  and  in  this  way  the  active  field  service  of  the  most 
promising  young  soldier  in  the  Union  Army  was  terminated.  He 
however,  commanded  the  Post  at  Nashville  for  a  long  time;  and  at 
the  battle  of  Nashville,  December,  1864,  he  comiiiauded  the  left 
division  numbering  eight  thousand  men.  After  suffering  inconceiv- 
ably from  his  wound  for  twelve  years— during  which  time  he  never 
had  a  mo  nent  free  from  pain  nor  a  full  night's  rest— the  ball,  a 
solid  ounce  of  lead,  was  removed,  together  with  his  eve.  In  1881 
General  Miller  became  United  States  Senator  from  the  State  of 
California.  He  died  in  March,  1886,  while  still  holding  that  office, 
in  the  city  of  Washington  and  his  death  was  directly  and  clearly 
traceable  to  the  wound  received  at  Liberty  Gap. 


19»  GOD'S  WAR. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


INTHEDEVIL     B    V  A.  M  E 


When  the  Twenty-first  pulled  itself  together  again  that 
night,  having  recrossed  the  river  with  the  brigade  it  was 
found  that  Tom  was  missing. 

In  the  general  rejoicing  and  good  feeling  which  fol- 
lowed upon  the  victory  his  absence  was  not  noted;  it  was 
natural  that  it  should  not  have  been  since  the  men  went 
back  somewhat  disorderly  in  their  joyfulness,  and  with 
no  care  at  all  to  keep  their  ranks  and  places  as  good  dis- 
cipline would  require.  Nat  had  missed  him  once  or 
twice  but  as  he  had  seen  him,  or  thought  he  had  seen 
him  just  after  the  capture  of  the  battery  alive  and  un- 
harmed, he  did  not  dream  that  the  boy  had  been  hurt  or 
captured;  and  it  was  not  until  the  dark  night  wore  on 
toward  midnight  and  Tom  was  not  to  be  found  nor  heard 
of,  that  Nat  became  alarmed.  Then  he  went  to  the  head- 
quarters of  the  brigade  to  seek  him,  and  not  finding  him 
there  got  permission  to  search  for  him  among  the  bodies 
which  strewed  the  field  for  a  mile  beyond  the  stream. 
Taking  Fielding  with  him  he  made  the  search. 

It  was  a  ghastly  business,  the  handling  of  dead  men  and 
peering  into  their  cold  faces  to  find  Tom's  features,  and 
nothing  but  the  great  love  which  the  two  soldiers  had  for 
the  boy  would  have  kept  them  up  to  the  work,  strong 
men  as  they  were.  Mort  than  once  they  encountered  a 
spectacle  which  almost  unnerved  them  and  the  guttering, 
spitting,  flickering  candle  almost  dropped  from  their  trem- 
bling fingers. 

When  Tom  was  last  seen  he  was  in  advance  of  the  line, 
and  the  line  at  that  moment  was  some  rods  in  advance  of 
the  position  subsequently  taken  up  by  the  troops  who 


god's  war.  193 

relieved  Miller,  these  latter  having  fallen  back  somewhat 
to  a  stronger  position  which,  during  the  night,  they 
atrengthened  with  earthworks. 

At  last,  as  day  was  beginning  to  break,  Nat  and  Field- 
ing returned  to  the  company,  but  with  no  tidings  good 
or  ill  for  the  anxious  men  who  had  remained  awake  all 
the  long  night,  sitting  about  in  groups,  fighting  the 
battle  over  again  and  hoping  and  fearing  for  their  boy 
leader. 

The  gloom  into  which  they  were  plunged  when  Nat 
and  Fielding  made  their  report  may  be  imagined.  It 
was  2  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  Miles  Bancroft, 
who,  occupied  with  his  duties  as  a  member  of  the  general 
staff  of  course  had  not  accompanied  the  regiment,  came 
to  the  Twenty-first  and  heard  that  Tom  was  missing. 
Gathering  all  the  particulars  as  to  where  he  was  last 
seen,  etc.,  he  at  once  rode  across  the  river  and  by  virtue 
of  his  office  having  no  difficult^'  in  passing  the  skirmishers, 
made  his  way  to  the  line  of  dead  bodies  which  marked 
the  extreme  advance,  missing  Nat  and  Fielding  who  had 
doubtless  by  this  time  begun  to  work  their  way  back. 

With  a  flint  of  steel  and  a  cotton  wick  he  succeeded 
in  getting  light  enough  to  examine  the  dead  faces,  but 
he  labored  long  without  success. 

It  was  a  work,  too,  that  was  not  without  its  danger, 
since  his  position  was  between  the  rebel  and  Union  lines 
at  a  point  where  they  were  not  more  than  half  a  mile 
apart;  and  during  his  search  he  frequently  had  to  fall 
flat  and  feign  a  death-like  rigidity  to  avoid  the  notice  of 
the  ghouls  who  were  going  about  rifling  the  pockets  of 
the  slain. 

And  it  would  have  been  better  for  him  if  he  had  never 
found  poor  Tom's  body,  for — but  we  must  go  back  a 
little  to  tell  the  part  of  the  story  of  which  Tom's  com- 
rades knew  nothing. 

Tom  was  with  the  first  to  reach  the  guns  of  the  batterj'. 
He  had  passed  beyond  them,  and  knowing  they  were  safe 
in  the  hands  of  his  comrades  he  gave  his  mind  to  what- 
ever else  of  glory  there  might  be  to  be  had ;  for  his  blood 
was  up  and  he  was  not  content  to  rest  on  what  had  been 
done  if  there  was  any  reasonable  hope  for  more. 


194  god's  war. 

In  this  frame  of  mind  he  caught  sight,  through  the 
smoke,  of  a  group  of  graybacks,  porhaps  a  dozeu,  hurry- 
ing off  w'tl)  a  stand  of  colors.  If  to  capture  one  of  the 
enemy's  guns  is  a  glorious  thing  Ibo  taking  of  his  colors 
is  much  move  so.  and  at  the  sight  of  the  streaming  flags 
Tom's  mouth  watered.  Glancing  about  he  found  himself 
surrounded  by  a  half-dozen  men,  strangers  to  him,  but 
wearing  blue  uniforms.  This  satisfied  him,  and  without 
stopping  to  ask  questions  he  bade  them  follow  him. 
They  responded  with  ardor  and  set  after  the  prize  like 
race  horses. 

A  stern  chase  is  proverbially  a  long  one;  and  in  their 
excitement  they  soon  passed  beyond  the  reach  of  succor, 
which  seeing,  the  rebels  turned,  two  to  one  of  Tom's 
party,  and  gave  them  a  volley,  which  prostrated  two  of 
the  bluecoats.  Then  with  a  shrill  yell  they  rushed  upon 
the  remaining  four,  wlio  had  but  empty  guns  and  Tom's 
sword  to  defend  themselves  with.  Tbe  bluecoats  fought 
desperately,  but  unavailingly  and  soon  all  were  stretched 
bleeding  upon  the  earth.  Tom  was  simultaneously 
thrust  through  the  chest  by  a  bayonet  and  felled  to  the 
earth  by  a  blow  from  the  butt  of  a  musket  which 
crashed  as  if  every  bone  in  the  back  part  of  his  head  had 
been  broken  to  atoms. 

The  victors  were  then  about  to  plunder  the  bodies 
when,  seeing  that  Tom  was  an  officer  and  therefore  likely 
to  be  a  richer  "find"  than  his  humbler  companions,  a 
burly  fellow  dragged  him  to  a  clump  of  bushes  standing 
nearby  that  he  might  go  through  him  more  at  leisure  and 
free  from  observation;  but  just  as  he  got  the  body  there 
a  troop  of  cavalry  came  by  and  he  was  ordered  to  hasten 
back  to  his  regiment. 

And  there  the  boy  lay  through  the  bitter  night,  his 
blood  flowing  and  dripping  from  his  wounds  and  saturat- 
ing the  soil  which  received  him  so  inhospitably,  till  the 
cold  and  the  natural  coagulation  contracted  and  plugged 
up  the  dreadful  holes. 

It  was  long  after  midnight  when  a  boy — or  what 
seemed  to  be  a  boy — passing  through  the  rebel  lines  came 
creeping  down  among  the  bodies  lying  on  the  field.  The 
figure  went  noiselessly  about,  and  a  fitful  gleaming  now 


god's  war.  195 

and  again  showed  the  light  of  a  "slide"  or  "bull's-eye" 
lantern  which  not  only  served  to  illuminate  the  faces  of 
the  dead  and  wounded,  but  to  guide  the  footsteps  in 
moments  of  obscurity.  From  one  form  to  the  other  it 
passed,  giving  little  heed  to  the  motionless,  but  minister- 
ing from  a  canteen  at  times  to  the  writhing  ones.  The 
hands  that  lifted  the  fevered  heads  were  cool  and  soft,  and 
the  voice  which  said  "Drink!"  tinkled  with  the  melody 
of  rippling  waters.  But  beyond  the  monosyllable,  the 
visitor  was  silent  and  uttered  no  word. 

At  last  the  little  group  of  those  who  had  fallen  with 
Tom  was  reached,  and  here  the  tigure  paused  with  a  start  of 
sarprise  as  the  glare  of  the  lantern  showed  the  blue  cloth- 
ing. So  far,  only  the  Confederate  uniform  had  met  the 
eye,  and  it  was  clearly  not  expected  that  bluecoats 
should  have  been  found  so  far  in  advance. 

Pondering  over  this  circumstance,  the  tigure  stood  with 
the  light  of  the  lantern  turned  full  towards  the  Union 
lines,  oblivious  to  danger  till  the  whistling  of  a  ball 
nearby  and  the  report  of  a  skirmisher's  musket  gave 
warning.  Instantly  closing  the  slide  the  boy  sprang  to 
the  clump  of  bushes  beneath  which  Tom  lay  and  stood 
motionless. 

Along  the  line  of  both  armies  the  skirmishers  banged 
away  at  random  or  at  the  weird  phantoms  springing  from 
the  darkness  at  them  as  the^'  strained  their  eyeballs  out  of 
their  sockets  trying  to  pierce  the  gloom.  A  voice  here 
and  there  shouted  an  order  in  a  muffled  tone,  and  then 
all  was  silent  again. 

The  boy  was  about  to  draw  away  with  a  sigh  of  relief, 
when  a  groan,  almost  at  his  feet,  made  him  start  with 
surprise.  Tom's  figure,  in  his  dark  uniform,  made  but 
a  black  blotch  upon  the  ground. 

"Water!  Water!  My  God,  Ethel,  will  you  not  give 
me  a  drink  of  water!" 

There  was  that  startling  strength  and  emphasis  in  the 
clear,  tense  tone  in  which  the  demand  was  made  that 
would  have  made  any  man  ou  earth  jump.  The  effect  on 
the  boy  standing  motionless  there  was  electrical. 

"(jod  in  heaven,  who  can  that  beV" 

And  trembling  lingers  falteringly  drew  the  slide  again 


196  god's  war. 

and  the  light  flashed  upon  Tom's  pale  face.  With  a 
shriek  the  startled  intruder  fell  by  his  side  and  eager 
lips  covered  him  with  kisses. 

"Oh,  my  brave,  haud.some  boy!  Ja  it  you?  Is  it 
youV  Oh,  he  is  dying — see" — and  she  lifted  her  hands 
from  his  chest  and  saw  them  in  the  light  covered  witli 
blood — "see — he  is  dying!" 

"Water,  Ethel,  water!"  groaned  the  ^vritLiug  wretch. 

"Yes,  yes!  I  forgot!  Forgive  me" — and  the  'cool 
water  gurgled  from  the  canteen  as  he  drank  it  eagerly. 

"Oh,  Tom,  are  you  much  hurt?  Oh,  my  darling! 
How  did  you  know  I  was  here?"  and  she  wrung  her 
hands  and  rocked  to  and  fro  as  if  bereft  of  her  senses. 
But  Tom  made  no  answer  except  to  roll  his  head  uneasily 
from  side  to  side. 

"I  k-)ieic  it — I  knew  something  was  drawing  me  hero 
to-night;  but  I  did  not  di'eam  of  this!  My  brave,  hand- 
some, gentle  boy!  I  might  have  known  that  you  would 
have  outstriiiped  them  all — my  lion — my  hero!" 

The  tears  were  coursing  down  her  cheeks  like  rain. 

"Oh,  my  head — my  head — Ethel,  you  do  love  me?" 

"Yes — yes — yes — what  am  I  thinking  of?" 

And  she  raised  his  head  and  strove  to  place  his  haver- 
sack under  it;  but  he  groaned  in  such  agony  as  she  did 
so  that  she  was  compelled  to  desist. 

"Merciful  heavens!  He  is  wounded  from  head  to  foot! 
I  might  have  known  it!  My  brave  boy!  He  would 
never  yield!" 

"Oh,  my  bead — my  head — oh,  the  pain!" 

"Yes — yes — dear!     What  am  I  thinking  of?" 

And  by  the  light  she  drew  a  vial  filled  with  a  dark 
liquid  from  her  pocket,  and  poured  its  contents  down  his 
throat.     He  gasped  and  struggled,  but  swallowed  it. 

"Yes — yes — it  will  do  you  good!  A  little  hard  to  take 
maybe,  but  here's  water!  There!  There!  Darling! 
It  will  drive  away  tlie  pain— it  will  give  you  rest!  What 
shall  I  do?  What  shall  I  do?"  and  again  she  fell  to 
moaning  and  rocking  and  wringing  her  hands. 

The  draught  she  had  given  him  was  a  powerful  opiate 
under  the  influence  of  which  Tom  soon  became  calm  and 
unconscious.      So    quiet   was   he   that   she   sought   the 


god's  war.  197 

beating  of  his  heart  under  his  blood-stiflfened  coat,  and 
"wben  she  found  it  so  feebly  fluttering  slie  became  alarmed. 

"I  have  killed  bim!     When  I  only  meant  to  help  him!" 

But  a  heavy  sii^h  from  the  Hleei)ing  boy  reassured  her. 
She  crept  closely  up  to  his  side,  and  laid  her  face  by  his 
and  stained  her  cheeks  and  lips  with  his  blood,  and  thus 
remained  and  prayed  for  an  hour. 

Then  she  was  roused  by  a  sharp  click,  click,  click, 
and  raising  her  head  saw  a  man  blowing  what  seemed  to 
be  a  feeble  spark  of  fire  in  his  hand,  as  he  bent  over  a 
dead  body.  He  was  not  twenty  feet  away,  and  she  gently 
rose  and  slipped  behind  the  bushes. 

The  man  went  patiently  from  body  to  body,  but  evi- 
dently without  success  in  his  search.  Then  he  paused, 
looming  up  silent  and  grewsome  against  the  dark  horizon. 
Then,  as  if  he  had  made  up  his  mind  to  sit  down  and 
wait  for  daylight,  he  advanced  to  the  knoll  upon  which 
the  clump  of  bushes  were,  and  sat  down. 

In  doing  so  he  laid  his  hand  full  upon  Tom's  face; 
whereupon  he  sprang  up  as  if  he  had  been  shot. 

"Here's  another  one!"  he  said;  and  then  click,  click, 
click,  he  worked  away  with  his  flint  and  steel,  and  then 
with  his  breath  till  his  cotton  wick  glowing,  gave  light 
enough  for  his  purpose. 

"At  last!"  he  said.  "At  last!  But  he's  dead!  Poor 
fellow!" 

And  his  hand  explored  his  wounded  chest  and  head. 
"Yes,  he's  dead!  Stabbed  and  clubbed  to  death!  She 
will  break  her  heart!" 

At  this  he  felt  the  boy's  pulse,  and  started  as  if  sur- 
prised.    Then,  through  the  blood,  he  sought  his  heart. 

"No,  he's  not!  Why,  no!  He's  warm,  and  his  heart 
"beats!  Tom?  Tom?  Old  fellow  wake  up!  Don't  you 
know  me?" 

But  Tom  slept  on,  thanks  to  the  opiate.  Then  with 
more  deliberation  the  wounds  were  once  more  examined. 

"But  he  can't  live!  /  shan't  tell  her.  She  will  hate 
the  man  wLo  brings  her  the  news!  And  she  must  not 
hate  mo!  I  promised  to  watch  over  him,  and  to  give  her 
news  of  him — how  could  she  ask  me  to  do  that  when 
she  knows  how  I  love  her!     And  he  loved  her!     Why  did 


198  GOD'S   WAR. 

she  ensnare  him?  A  man  is  all  very  well — but  a  boy! 
This  is  tlie  second  time  he  has  crossed  ray  path — hut  it 
matters  not!  Thisi  love  is  my  !)/>;  and  he  shall  not 
thwart  ii)<I  Indeed,  how  can  he,  now?  lie  cannot  sur- 
vive these  terrible  wounds!" 

And  for  a  moment  he  sat  buried  in  thought.  The 
woman  in  boy's  clothes  lay  not  three  feet  from  him  and 
strove  to  quiet  the  beating  of  her  heart  lest  he  should 
hear  it.  All  at  once  he  started,  and  in  the  darkness  bent 
his  gaze  upon  the  unconscious  boy. 

"But  suppose  he  should  not  die?  Suppose,  spite  of 
all  these  wounds,  he  should  get  well?" 

He  put  his  ear  over  Tom's  heart  to  listen  to  its  flut- 
terings. 

"No — it  beats  fainter  and  fainter!  He  will  die;  and 
then  she  will  love  me,  and  me  only!" 

Tom  moved  uneasily  and  groaned  and  raised  his  hand 
and  let  it  fall  again.  By  a  strong  effort  the  woman  re- 
strained her  impulse  to  go  to  him.     The  man  started. 

"But  he  is  strong  and  viay  li\el  If  he  does — if  he 
does,  she  will  love  him!  Curse  him,  she  loves  him  now 
— boy  as  he  is!  But  he  must  die — he  must — I  will — but 
no — I  must  not  think  of  that!  What  is  the  matter  with 
me!" 

He  rose  and  walked  away  a  pace  or  two.  Then  he 
stood  pondering.  Once  or  twice  he  started  toward  Tom, 
and  then  checked  himself.  Finally,  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  had  made  up  his  mind,  he  drew  a  flask  from 
his  pocket,  held  it  to  his  lips  for  a  long  time,  replaced 
it,  and  then  with  a  step  reached  the  bcj'  and  knelt  beside 
him. 

"Yes,  I  must  make  sure  of  it!  There  will  be  no  crime 
in  it!  It  is  only  a  matter  of  an  hour  or  so,  anyhow! 
And  it  will  only  save  him  pain!  If  I  don't  do  it  I  may 
never  be  certain  that  he  is  dead !  I  never  dreamed  of 
such  a  thing  before — but — I  love  her — and " 

He  quietly  placed  his  strong  hands  about  Tom's  throat 
and  begun  to  slowly  compress  it.  The  boy  writhed  and 
moaned  like  one  choking.  The  man  muttered  an  oath 
and  evidently  tightened  his  grip,  when,  sudden  as  the 
flash  of  a  gun  in  the  dark,  a  glare  of  hot  light  smote  his 
eyes  and  sent  him  to  his  feet  in  terror. 


god's  war.  199 

"Miles  Baucroft,  what  would  you  do?" 

"\Vho — who — who  are  you?  Stand  back  or  I'll  fire!" 
aud  he  drew  his  revolver. 

She  gave  no  heed  to  his  threat. 

"If  you  do,  turn  the  muzzle  against  your  own  breast 

for  after  this  night  you  will  live  accursed  by  your  own 

heart!" 

"My  God !  It  is  Ethel!  I  thought  you  were  in  Nash- 
ville!" 

"Humph!"  Cold  and  contemptuous  beyond  descrip- 
tion.    His  voice  took  on  a  tone  of  begging  appeal. 

"How  came  you  here?" 

"A  friend — no  a  thing— a.  would-be  murderer  of  a  help- 
less boy  furnished  me  a  pass  from  General  Kosecrans  two 
weeks  ago— to  go  through  the  lines  at  any  time  unchal- 
lenged!" 

"I  know  I  did— but " 

"Oh!     You  acknowledge  the  description!" 

"But  when  did  you  come  here?" 

"I  have  been  in  Murfreesboro  for  four  days!" 

"In  Murfreesboro?" 

"In  Murfreesboro!" 

"How  did  you  pass  the  rebel  lines?" 

"I  need  no  pass  to  get  into  the  rebel  lines,  as  you  call 
them!" 

"Ah!     Then  you  are  a  spy !" 

This  time  he  sought  to  speak  contemptuously. 

"I  suppose  I  am  what  &,\x]ionorahle  man  like  you  would 
call  a  spy !  I  serve  the  South — because  I  love  her — and 
Ihate  the  North!" 

"And  the  information  you  got  from  me " 

"Was  useful,  very  useful  to  General  Bragg!" 

"What  a  fool  I  have  been!" 

"I  knew  you  were  a  fool — but  I  had  no  idea  that  you 
were  a  coward  as  well!" 

"These  are  strong  words!" 

"Yes!  The  man  who  would  murder  his  helpless  friend 
is  a  coward ! ' ' 

"You  shall  not  talk  to  me  so." 

"No?" 

"I  will  arrest  you — I  do  arrest  you  as  a  spy  I" 


200  god's  war. 

"Very  well!  I'll  go  withj'ou  to — to  General  Eoseciaust 
And  I  will  acknowledge  to  him  that  I  am  a  spy!" 

"They  will  hang  you!" 

"Yes,  I  presume  you  chivalric  Northerners  would  not 
hesitate  to  hang  a  woman!  But  before  they  hang  me — 
I  don't  care, .I'm  ready  to  die  for  the  South — before  they 
hang  me  do  you  know  what  I  will  do?" 

"What  you  will  do?" 

"Yes!  I  will  show  General   Rosecrans  sundry  letters  I 
have  from  Colonel  Miles  Bancroft,  and  copies  of  orders 
and  reports  furnished  me  by  this  same  gallant  colonel!" 

"You  are  a  devil!" 

"You  are  courteous,  and  rp^^y  polite!" 

"You  have  deceived  me!" 

"Of  course  I  have!" 

"But  I  love  you,  Ethel;  my  God,  you  have  made  me 
what  I  am!"  and  he  fell  on  his  knees  and  buried  his  face 
in  his  hands.     She  flamed  with  indignation. 

"Don't  dare  to  say  that!  I  may  have  made  you  a  fool 
— that  is  my  business — but  I  could  never  make  you  the 
base  thing  that  you  are!" 

"You  made  me  love  you — you  drew  me  on — you  made 
me  believe  that  you  loved  me " 

"Of  course  I  did!" 

"You  are  a  fiend!  You  cannot  love!  You  have  no 
heart!" 

"You  do  not  speak  the  truth!  I  wish  you  did!  There 
lies  a  boy  for  whom  I  would  give  my  life!  The  only 
human  being  I  ever  did  love!  Oh,  my  brave,  gentle 
boy!  Why  did  you  come  to  me  with  your  sweet,  inno- 
cent, honest  heart?  Why  did  not  something  warn  you? 
Ah!  I  would  die  for  you!" 

And  she  hung  over  him  and  wept,  and  trembled  with 
emotion. 

"He!  That  boj'l  You  are  old  enough  to  be  bis 
mother ! ' ' 

"I  know  I  am!  I  know  I  am!  I  know  everything!  I 
know  that  I  have  deceived  him,  too — but  the  temptation 
was  too  great!  I  tried  to  fight  against  it  but  could  not! 
I  never  met  a  human  being  so  brave  and  gentle  and 
chivalric  and  loving  as  he  is !     And  he  loved  me  so  purely 


god's  war.  20J 

— and  my  life  has  beeu  so  bitter!  Why  should  I  refuse 
this  little  bit  of  happiness!     God  pity  tue!" 

She  fell  prone  upon  her  face  and  sobbed  aloud. 

"And  you  preferred  him  to  me?" 

"Ay!  and  do!"  she  cried,  springing  to  her  feet.  "I 
would  not  giva  one  drop  of  his  poor  blood  soaking  into 
the  earth  there,  for  your  whole  body,  your  life,  your 
soul!" 

"Ethel,  listen  tome!  He  cannot  live!  He  must  die!" 
yhe  faced  him  defiantly.  "No,  I  don't  mean  that!  Ho 
V(?ill  die  of  his  wounds!  I  know  you  love  him — but  I 
used  to  think  you  loved  me,  too,  a  little!  lam  not  a 
bad  man!  As  God  is  my  witness  I  had  no  thought  till  a 
moment  ago  of — of — of  doing  what  you  savy'  me  doing] 
Listen  to  me!  I  love  you  more  than  I  do  my  life,  my 
soul,  my  hope  of  salvation!  I  can  make  you  happy! 
Come  with  me.  After  what  has  happened  to-night 
neither  of  us  can  remain  here,  I  will  resign.  AYe  will 
leave  the  country'  and  go  awaj''  where  no  one  knows  us 
and  be  happy.     I  beg  as  a  man  would  for  his  life!" 

"Never!  You  are  a  coward  and  a  murderer!"  She 
threw  her  arm  out  with  a  superb  gesture  of  disdain  and 
pointed  toward  the  Union  camp.     "Go!" 

"I  will  not  leave  you — you  are  more  to  me  than  my 
honor!"  With  another  gesture  she  flung  him  off. 
"Very  well.  If  I  cannot  live  with  3'ou  and  for  you,  I 
will  die  by  your  side,"  and  his  revolver  was  at  his  breast 

She  grasped  it,  and  strove  to  take  it  away  from  him. 

"You  must  not!  You  may  yet  make  atonement! 
Miles!  Miles!"  she  cried  as  she  still  struggled  with  him. 
"dear  Miles,  if  you  love  me!" 

"If  I  love  you,  what?"  he  demanded,  hoarsely. 

"Do  not  kill  yourself!" 

"But  I  cannot  live  without  you!" 

"But  perhaps " 

"Do  you  mean " 

"That  you  may  make  atonement!" 

"And  having  done  that,  you  will  love  me?" 

She  smiled,  wearily  and  painfully,  upon  him. 

"You  must  not  kill  yourself" — he  turned  away  im- 
patiently—"you  must  live — for  my  sake." 


203  GOD^S   WAR. 

He  turned  and  clasped  her  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  her 
face  and  hair  till  she  \vas  breathless  and  sick. 

"Go!"  she  said. 

"I  will  live — for  your  sake!  You  would  not  have  said 
it  if  you  did  not  love  me!     Is  it  not  so?" 

"Go!" 

He  once  more  embraced  her  passionately,  and  then, 
turning,  he  fled  swiftly  toward  the  Union  lines. 

The  clock  in  the  steeple  in  the  distant  town  boomed 
the  hour,  slowlj'  and  heavily,  one!  two!  three!  four! 

The  w^oman  watched  him  in  the  deep  gloom  till  he 
disappeared,  when  with  a  sigh  she  lost  consciousness. 

When  she  came  back  to  life  her  cheek  was  against  poor 
Tom's;  the  rain  was  falling  and  the  gray  streaks  in  the 
east  told  that  the  day  was  breaking. 


god's  war.  203 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    CLOCK    STRIKES    FOUR. 

Meantime  Lawyer  Jordan  bad  changed  his  views  rela- 
tive to  the  war  between  the  North  and  the  South,  and 
had  pretty  well  succeeded  in  regaining  position  as  a 
leader  among  men  in  and  about  Clayton  and  the  con- 
gressional district  to  which  Shawnee  County  belonged. 
Not  to  put  too  fine  a  point  on  it  he  had  realized,  before 
Nat  and  Tom  and  Miles  had  rescued  him  from  the  mob 
in  the  market-house,  that  he  had  taken  the  wrong  chute, 
that  things  were  dead  against  him  and  his  kind,  that  the 
wave  of  events  had  swept  the  sand  from  under  the  old 
ideas  and  theories  upon  which  he  had  built  his  political 
structure  and  that  it  behooved  him  to  set  about  adapting 
himself  to  the  new  order  of  things;  with  all  speed,  un- 
questionably ;  and  such  grace  as  might  be,  certainly. 

Having  carefully  estimated  the  value  of  his  retirement 
from  public  life  day  by  day  and  having  taken  his  bear- 
ings with  such  accuracy  as  his  frightened  condition 
Avould  permit,  he  at  length,  after  some  weeks  of  seclusion, 
ventured  forth  and  timidly  reconnoitered  his  accustomed 
haunts.  He  sought  the  company  of  his  fellows,  not  with 
the  fiauntings  of  the  banner  of  his  own  pride  in  himself, 
nor  the  blare  of  the  trumpet  of  his  own  self-esteem,  but 
rather  in  that  apologetic  and  deprecating  tone  and  atti- 
tude which  he  thought  would  be  most  likely  to  win  him 
favor  to  begin  with — at  least  conciliate  public  opinion  till 
he  should  have  time  to  newly  recommend  himself. 
Toward  his  old  friends  and  fellow- sinners  his  conduct 
was  judicious  in  the  extreme  and  his  example  was  of 
great  weight.  Even  the  most  stubborn  among  them  with 
the  added  and  powerful  assistance  of  the  Dutch  courage 


204  god's  war. 

that  came,  in  tho8e  days,  iu  a  sea-green  flat  glasa  bottle  and 
shone  with  a  pale  straw  color  could  not  get  him  back 
upon  the  ^old  platform.  He  solemnly  assured  them  iu 
the  secret  conclaves  which  they  held  from  time  to  time 
iu  his  back  office,  that  they  had  been  wrong;  that  the 
South  was  wrong  and  the  North  was  right;  at  least, 
whether  this  was  true  or  not,  he  would  never  again  be 
guilty  of  the  eri'or  of  going  against  the  sentiments  of  his 
near  neighbors  at  so  important  a  crisis. 

At  first  it  was  hard  lines  with  him ;  the  people  dis- 
trusted him ;  and  it  almost  broke  his  heart  to  have  a  big, 
serious  fellow  take  him  aside  occasionally  and  quietly 
intimate  to  him  that  if  he  ever  spoke  treason  again  the 
hand  of  the  mob  would  not  be  stayed  a  second  time — and 
this  sort  of  warning  came  to  him  with  disagreeable  fre- 
quency. The  boys  on  their  way  to  school,  whom  he  had 
never  wasted  regard  upon  before,  passed  him,  he  could 
not  help  seeing,  with  contemptuous  and  even  defiant 
glances;  while  the  larger  girls,  just  getting  into  Latin 
and  long  dresses  to  whom  he  had  ahvaj's  been  conde- 
scendingly gallant,  ignored  him  with  little,  but  still 
clearly  perceptible  sniffs  of  disdain.  His  practice  at  the 
bar  picked  up  very  slowb' ;  the  preacher  was  humane  but 
none  the  less  stern  in  his  disapproval ;  the  caucuses  and 
township  meetings  and  county  conventions  of  his  party 
no  longer  welcomed  his  appearance  with  the  stamping  of 
cowhide  boots  and  the  clapping  of  horny  palms;  and  a 
few  daj'S  after  the  news  had  come  of  the  battle  at  Bull 
Jlun,  while  standing  in  front  of  the  bar  in  the  village 
tavern,  he  felt  the  cold  eye  of  the  barkeeper  upon  him ; 
and  he  sadly  thought  as  he  gazed  into  his  glass  that  even 
his  whisky  had  gone  back  on  him,  so  much  had  it  failed 
of  its  usual  effect — whereat,  surely,  his  cup  of  bitterness 
was  full — and  he  groaned  that  his  punishment  was  greater 
than  he  could  bear! 

But  time  is  a  great  healer,  and  patient  perseverance  on 
the  part  of  the  lawyer  in  his  public  and  private  repent- 
ance for  his  offense,  brought  him  solace;  and  men  recon- 
sidered their  first  and  bitter  judgments,  and  by  the  time 
he  had  gone  to  work  making  recruiting  speeches  and  in 
other  ways  helping  the  cause  they  began  to  think  that 


god\s  war.  205 

they  ought  to  be  easier  \\'ith  him,  and  let  him  in  once 
more  among  them.     And  tliey  did  so. 

And  he  worked  with  chawtened  zeal  and  did  some  good 
work,  too.  So  much  so  that,  under  the  influence  of  one 
of  his  own  eloquent  speeches  on  behalf  of  the  Union,  he 
rashly  declared  his  purpose  to  enlist  himself;  and  forth- 
with applied  for  a  commission ;  and  the  governor,  realiz- 
ing the  importance  of  such  a  recruit  from  a  part  of  the 
State  peculiar  for  its  disloyalty  to  the  Union  cause,  made 
swift  haste  to  create  him  colonel  ot  the  Four  hundred 
and  seventy-second  Regiment.  This  was  in  the  latter 
part  of  1862,  when  it  was  a  work  of  some  weeks  to  get  a 
regiment  together ;  instead  of  days,  as  at  the  beginning 
of  the  war. 

But  the  fact  that  Lawyer  Jordan  had  decided  to  go  to 
war  at  once  swept  away  all  lingering  prejudice  against 
him,  at  least  to  all  outward  appearance;  and  he  was  re- 
ceived, when  on  the  evening  of  the  29th  of  December,  he 
came  up  from  Columbus  where  his  regiment  lay  awaiting 
orders,  with  great  enthusiasm  and  the  village  brass  band. 
Of  course  his  response  to  the  noble  efforts  of  the  am- 
bitious musicians  was  in  a  lofty  key  as  became  a  great 
inspiration;  and  the  news  that  Rosecrans  had  moved  out 
to  give  battle  to  Bragg  offered  the  new  colonel  in  his 
fresh  and  unsoiled  uniform  a  theme  of  no  small  size  and 
which  he  improved,  we  may  be  sure  for  all  that  it  was 
worth;  eliciting  almost  unbounded  enthusiasm  as  he 
declared  his  hope  that  the  authorities  at  Washington 
would  order  the  gallant  Four  hundred  and  Seventy- 
second  to  Murfreesboro ;  which  place  he  only  feared, 
would  be  in  the  hands  of  the  other  brave  fellows  whom 
the  fortunes  of  war  had  sent  in  advance,  before  he  and 
his  men  could  get  there. 

And  the  gallant  colonel  affirmed,  an  hour  later,  while 
surrounded  by  an  enthusiastic  circle,  that  the  whisky 
before  him  that  night  was  "something  like  the  real  old 
stuff — that  it  had  been  so  bad  for  awhile  back  that  he 
had  begun  to  think  he  never  would  taste  the  genuine 
article  again!" 

We  have  been  so  busy  fighting  and  marching  and  fall- 
ing in  love  and  doing  and  sinning  down  at  the   front, 


900  god's  war. 

that  we  have  not  bad  time  to  note  the  changes  in  Clayton; 
Avbiob  iuipiovemeuts  comprised  among  others  a  telegraph 
office  and  a  branch  railroad  from  Bryan's.  By  means  of 
the  former,  meager  rumors  of  battles  and  skirmishes 
could  be  got  from  time  to  time  during  the  day,  while, 
])y  means  of  the  evening  train  on  the  latter,  the  city 
morning  dailies  could  be  had  in  time  for  scanning  at  the 
supper-table.  In  other  respects,  too,  Clayton  was  im- 
proving her  condition;  manufacturing  establishments 
Avere  springing  up,  and  the  town  was  growing  in  size; 
and  out  at  the  northwestern  corner  of  the  village  limits 
was  a  long,  low  building  which  had  a  peculiar  fascination 
for  the  boys  and  a  sad  significance  to  women  clad  in 
mourning;  for  it  was  a  factory  wherein  the  black  walnut 
so  abundant  in  the  adjacent  woods  was  being  turned  into 
hundred  of  gunstocks  daily — but  of  these  things  we 
have  no  time  to  talk  at  present — if  we  ever  will  have. 

Nobody  was  more  zealous  in  doing  all  manner  of  things 
possible  in  a  non-combatant,  to  uphold  the  hands  of  the 
government  and  strengthen  the  hearts  of  the  soldiers  and 
comfort  their  families  left  behind  to  wrestle  with  Provi- 
dence for  a  living,  than  the  old  judge.  His  great  wealth 
gave  him  the  means  to  do  much;  and  where  a  mortgage 
on  a  farm  kept  a  stout  3'oung  man  from  volunteering  the 
judge's  money  lifted  it;  and  when  fear  for  the  dailj'  sup- 
plies for  the  family  kept  a  brave  man  chafing  at  home  the 
judge's  money  bade  him  godspeed  to  the  front.  In 
every  possible  way  the  old  man  gave  his  help;  and  when 
he  sometimes  thoughts  of  how  he  was  diminishing  the 
fortune  that  he  had  hoped  to  leave  to  Margaret  and  the 
brave  man  whom  he  had  consented  she  should  marrj' 
when  the  war  should  be  over — for  this  u-as  the  explana- 
tion of  the  blithe  content  which  Tom  had  marked  in 
Miles  Bancroft — he  was  proud  to  think  that  his  noble 
girl  and  the  patriotic  soldier  would  not  grudge  the 
money  so  spent. 

Among  the  least  of  his  givings  was  the  grant  of  his 
public  hall,  St.  Cecilia's,  for  the  free  and  sole  use  of  the 
Women's  Soldiers'  Aid  Society;  and  here  every  Friday 
evening  the  wives  and  mothers  and  sweethearts  of  the 
men  at  the  front  gathered  to  sew  garments  and  make 
bandages  and  scrape  lint. 


god's  war.  207 

These  meetings  were  of  the  deepest  interest;  since,  if 
there  was  an.v  great  news  going  it  could  he  satisfactorily 
discussed  here  in  public;  if  not,  there  were  a  hundred 
letters,  received  during  the  week,  containing  items  of  the 
incidents  of  camp  and  campaign  life  to  be  read,  in  para- 
graphs, and  thus  made  a  part  of  the  public  information. 
Of  course  there  were  extraordinary  occasions  when  the 
news  of  a  great  battle  brought  together  in  the  hall  an 
aggregation  of  anxiety  which,  curiously  enough,  seemed 
to  grow  lighter  as  it  was  thus  aggregated  and  shared  by 
all.  As  a  rule  there  was  nothing  attempted  of  a  more 
imposing  nature  in  the  way  of  public  exercises  than  to 
hear  the  reports  of  committees  and  read  the  requisitions 
made  from  time  to  time  upon  the  Clayton  Aid  Society  by 
the  State  organization  or  the  Sanitary  Commission ;  but 
on  an  extraordinary  occasion,  such  as  has  been  referred 
to,  it  was  a  relief  to  find  in  one  common  mouthpiece  a 
vent  for  the  feelings  which  individuals  strove  to  restrain. 
And  in  a  community  suddenly  changed  as  Clayton  had 
been,  from  the  most  repressive  to  the  most  sensitive  in 
this  great  emergency,  the  necessity  for  some  such  relief 
was  imperative  and  would  not  be  denied.  Not  that 
speechmaking,  in  the  nature  of  buncombe,  was  ever 
wanted;  but  there  was  a  satisfaction  to  be  found  in  a 
genuine  voicing  of  the  general  feeling,  and  unquestiona- 
bly great  comfort  in  having  the  direction  of  afifairs  taken 
authoritatively  in  hand  hy  somebody. 

Now  the  Clayton  Aid  Society  had  for  its  president  a 
woman  who  was  certainly  predestined  and  foreordained 
for  her  work.  She  was  known  to  every  man,  woman, 
child  and  dog  in  the  village  as  Aunt  Eliza.  She  was  not 
so  known  because  of  her  great  age,  for  she  was  but  little 
inore  than  fifty,  but  because  her  active  life  of  benevo- 
lence and  charity  (and  a  decent  fortune  gave  her  means 
to  so  indulge  herself),  and  helpfulness  to  all  who  were 
poor  or  sick  or  in  distress,  had  made  her  known  and  loved 
of  all.  She  was  untiring  at  the  bed  of  sickness  where 
no  one  else  was  so  welcome ;  she  was  ever  on  the  alert  to 
feed  and  clothe  the  unfortunate,  and  in  doing  this  she 
never  made  the  recipient  of  her  bounty  feel  the  slightest 
twinge  of  shame  or  humiliation ;  she  was  a  widow  with 


508  god's  war. 

an  only  son,  a  sturdy  manly  fellow  of  twenty  or  there- 
abouts, a  member  of  Company  "Q"  of  the  Twenty-first, 
Avhere  he  had  gone  with  her  iivoml  blessing.  She  was  of 
two  ideas  above  all  others,  viz.  :  that  the  slaves  in  the 
South  should  be  freed,  and  that  the  sale  of  intoxicating 
beverages  should  be  prohibited  bylaw;  and  while  she 
never  unsexed  herself,  she  i)reached  and  enforced  her 
view.s  at  all  suitable  times  and  in  all  proper  places  with- 
out fear  or  hesitation.  She  had  been  known  to  go  boldly 
into  the  lowest  groggery  of  the  village  to  rescue  a  victim 
and  restore  him  to  his  family  and  to  do  it  without  the 
slightest  fear  of  the  insult  which  another,  and  a  weaker, 
woman  would  have  met  with,  but  which  never  dared 
affront  her.  With  the  manners  of  a  gracious  queen,  and 
the  firmness  and  intrepidity  of  -the  bravest  man,  she  had 
not  an  enemy  in  all  the  world  and  her  heart  was  kept 
warm  with  good  deeds. 

The  daily  papers  had  kept  Clayton  advised  meagerly 
of  the  advance  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  as  it  slowlj' 
moved  out  after  Bragg,  and  the  people  were,  of  course, 
filled  with  anxiety  and  apprehension,  growing  as  time 
went  on.  On  Thursday,  the  1st  of  January,  the  tele- 
graph gave  vague  hints  of  an  awful  battle  near  Murfrees- 
boro — which  the  daib'  papers  Thursday  night  confirmed, 
with  but  little  more  in  the  way  of  details  than  the  mourn- 
ful statement  that  the  result  had  been  disastrous  to  the 
Union  arms.  On  Friday  the  telegraph  was  almost  dumb ; 
but  the  news  in  the  papers  Friday  night  was  so  appalling 
that  Clayton  went  supperless  and  the  hall  was  filled  with 
pale  faces  and  trembling  hearts.  In  the  news  the  worst 
that  had  befallen  Rosecrans,  bad  as  it  was,  was  exagger- 
ated; and  the  readers  were  forced  to  the  conclusion  that 
the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  had  been  not  only  badly 
whipped,  but  practically  wiped  out  of  existence.  "Bad 
news  flies  fast;"  and  while  it  is  true  that  the  facts  as  to 
the  battle  were  not  fully  known  until  many  days  after  it 
had  been  fought,  yet  it  is  also  true  that  the  air  was  filled 
with  the  darkness  of  horrible  disaster  long  before  any- 
thing authentic  could  be  had. 

It  had  been  announced  that  Colonel  Jordan  would 
speak  at  the  meeting  of  the[Aid  Society  that  night.     The 


god's  war.  209 

opportunity  to  do  so  had  not  been  altogether  unsought 
by  the  new  hero;  he  could  not  at  once||give  over  his  liking 
for  such  prominence,  and  he  wanted  to  show  himself  in 
his  brave  regimentals  and  to  take  leave  of  his  old  friends 
and  acquaintances  in  a  harangue  of  such  stout  eloquence 
as  would  win  admiration  and  testify  his  courageous  and 
necessarily  bloody  puposes.  Arriving  in  Clayton  Tues- 
day evening,  he  spent  Wednesday  in  arranging  his  busi- 
ness, and  Thursday  in  going  about  among  the  friends  he 
was  to  leave  so  soon.  In  the  intervals  of  business  and 
friendly  intercourse  he  conned  his  speech,  which  he  was 
minded  should  be  electrical  in  its  effect.  Under  the 
circumstances,  posing  as  a  hero  before  the  admiring  eyes 
of  a  great  audience,  mostly  women,  and  in  his  uniform 
with  the  shoulder-straps  and  brass  buttons,  standing 
under  the  great  flag  draped  over  the  president's  stand, 
he  felt  that  it  could  be  scarcely  less  than  electrical  and 
thrilling  to  a  degree. 

Thursday's  news  somewhat  disturbed  the  free  flow  of 
his  thoughts,  while  Friday's  reduced  him  to  an  extremely 
unpleasant  state  of  nervousness.  He  ^repented  him  that 
he  had  sought  this  publicity ;  it  would  have  been  better 
to  have  gone  quietly  off,  perhaps. 

Still,  he  must  go  through  with  it,  and  he  would. 
Who  could  tell?  Could  he  not  recall  numbers  of  instances 
when  nervousness  and  a  sinking  heart  were  but  the  pre- 
ludes to  tremendous  success  upon  the  stump?  Certainly  ! 
Anyhow,  on  the  stage  in,  St.  Cecilia's  Hall  he  would  be 
in  no  bodily  peril — and  he  would  not  think  of  the  bloody 
news. 

But  ah,  he  must  think  of  it.  Ay,  and  he  would  be 
expected  to  talk  of  it  too.  Great  heavens!  what  a  cruel 
thing  war  is!  Thousands  of  men  slaughtered,  and  Rose- 
crans  routed!  What  if  he  should  be  ordered  down  there? 
The  governor  thought  he  would  be  sent  down  to  Lexing- 
ton, Kentucky,  to  garrison  the  town;  that's  what  they 
ought  to  do  with' a  green  regiment,  anyhow.  Give  the 
men  time  to  drill,  before  you  push  them  into  battle. 

But  if  Rosecrans  had  really  been  routed — then  of 
course  they  would  hurry  troops  down  to  him,  and  the 
Four  hundred  and  Seventy-second  would  have  to  go,  too. 


210  GOD  S   WAR. 

It  was  a  very  uncomfortable  frame  of  mind  to  be  in  ; 
and  all  the  whisky  he  could  get  wouldn't  help  it.  But 
he  must  do  his  best.  And  the  committee  sent  to  escort 
him  to  the  hall  Avere  forced  to  take  two  drinks  with  him 
before  they  could  get  him  out  of  his  house. 

His  spirits  were  refused  even  the  poor  encoiiragement 
of  applause  when  he  entered  the  hall.  The  people  had 
something  too  weighty  on  their  souls  to  permit  of  ap- 
plause. And  the  apprehension  and  shuddering  fear  with 
which  the  atmosphere  was  burdened,  entered  his  poor, 
craven  heart  and  it  sank  like  lead. 

Upon  being  introduced  he  strove  to  collect  himself  and 
his  eyes  wandered  over  the  crowd,  mechanically.  He 
began  in  a  tone  so  loud  that  it  frightened  him,  and  he 
saw,  jarred  upon  the  feelings  of  the  people.  But  his 
memory  stood  him  in  good  stead,  and  as  he  rolled  otf 
one  sentence  after  the  other  about  the  sacredness  of  the 
cause  and  the  mighty  majesty  of  the  nation  and  the  hell- 
ish depravity  of  the  South  and  the  high  and  holy  duty — 
duty? — nay,  privilege  of  the  citizen;  and  warmed  to  his 
work  as  he  reminded  them  of  the  sweetness  and  decor- 
ousness  of  dying  for  one's  country,  he  really  began  to 
thi))k  that  he  would  succeed  after  all.  It  was  discour- 
aging, in  truth,  that  the  people  did  not  warm  up,  that 
their  eyes  did  nut  lose  the  haggard  look  of  dread,  that 
their  countenances  were  stiil  preoccupied  and  rigid,  but 
he  gathered  hope.  He  would  try  them  still  more  elo- 
quently, and  he  adroitly  wove  in  an  allusion  to  the  flag, 
"Forever  float  that  standard  sheet" — when  his  quick  eye 
caught  sight  of  a  boy  with  a  yellow  envelope  in  his  hand 
elbowing  his  way  through  the  crowd.  It  was  a  tele- 
graphic message!  And  doubtless  for  him!  Never  mind  ! 
Courage! 

"Yes,  my  fellow-citizens!  In  the  language  of  the 
sublime  poet: 

"  Forever  float  that  standard  sheet," 

the  boy  reached  the  desk — 

•'WUert;  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us?" 


GOD*S  WAR.  211 

he  opened  the  envelope  mechanically  and  read  the  mm- 
sage — 

"  Where  breathes  the  foe " 

The  paper  fell  from  his  trembling  fingers  on  the  desk 
beneath  the  eye  of  Aunt  Eliza — 

"  but  falls — before — us — 
but— falls " 

Aunt  Eliza  read  the  message — it  was  signed  by  the  ad- 
jutant-general: 

"Rosecrans  routed — your  regiment  ordered  at  once  to 
Nashville.     Come  immediately!" 

"Where  breathes — the  foe — but  falls — before  us — " 

his  fingers  strove  with  the  rigid  upright  collar  of  his 
coat,  his  eyes  wandered,  his  voice  failed,  and  his  knees 
seemed  sinking.  Aunt  Eliza  in  sore  amaze  rose  quickb', 
and  placing  a  hand  on  his  bosom  pressed  him  into  a 
chair. 

"Sit  down,  colonel!  You're — you're  sick!  Sit  down! 
Your  clothes  are  new,  and — and — you  haven't  got  used 
to  them  yet — and  they  make  you  uncomfortable!" 

The  tone  was  meant  to  be  kindly,  but  how  could  she 
keep  all  of  her  contempt  back  ?  As  the  colonel  sat  down 
she  turned  to  the  silent  crowd — her  mien  was  collected 
and  her  low  calm,  voice  sought  out  the  furthest  corner  of 
the  room : 

"My  friends,  you  have  all  heard  the  news;  we  don't 
know  all  of  the  truth  yet;  but  we  know  enough  ;  we  know 
that  we  have  a  duty  to  perform;  and  we  must  do  it! 
I'm  not  talking  to  the  men;  this  is  the  place  for  women 
to  work;  that's  what  we  are  here  for.  To  scrape  lint 
and  make  bandages  and  garments  for  our  brave  ones  at 
the  front.  "We  must  not  stop  to  wonder  what  has  become 
of  them — ^where  they  are  to-night.  My  boy  is  there, 
somewhere" — and  the  voice  trembled — "I  don't  know 
where — but  he  is  there.  He  is  there — and  I  would  not 
have  him  elsewhere  for  the  world!  He  maj'  be — may  be 
— lying   there — dead!     With   his    dear  face   turned   up 


212  GOD'S  WAR. 

rigid  and  cold  and  gray" — and  the  tears  m-ouM  come, 
and  she  bowed  her  head  while  the  hall  was  filled  with 
women's  moans  and  the  groans  of  strong  men.  But  for 
only  a  moment — dashing  her  hand  across  her  eyes  she 
raised  her  face  quickly.  "But  if  he  is,  I  am  proud  of 
it!  If  he  is  dead  he  has  died  flighting  God's  battles,  and 
he  has  placed  a  crown  on  his  poor,  weak  mother's  head 
and  I  thank  God  for  him!  If  he  is  lying  there  wounded 
and  suffering,  God's  angels  will  minister  unto  him.  And 
he  won't  ask  anything  more  of  them  than  strength  to 
bear  his  pain  like  a  man — God  bless  him !  This  is  no 
time  for  tears  and  hysterics.  The  moments  are  too 
precious;  we  must  not  lose  one.  And  now  let  us  go  to 
work  without  another  word.  The  men  can  go  home ;  we 
will  stay  and  work.     That's  what  we  must  do — work!" 

"And  pray!"  said  a  voice  from  the  floor. 

"Not  now,  Sister  Druett;  not  now!  We  will  work 
now,  and  pray  when  we  get  home!  Don't  you  know  that 
every  moment  the  brave  fellows  are  thinking  of  their 
wives  and  mothers  and  sisters?     We  must  work!" 

The  poor  sweethearts,  is  nothing  to  be  said  for  them  ? 

"Does  she  think  the  mothers  and  wives  and  sisters 
are  the  only  ones  who  suffer?  Sisters  indeed!"  And  a 
flush  stole  into  Margaret's  pale  face,  as  she  bent  her  head 
resolutely  to  her  work. 

The  men  crept  silently  out  and  stood  about  in  groups 
in  the  street  below.  In  the  hall  the  work  went  on  almost 
noiselessly,  save  for  the  low-spoken  word  of  instruction 
and  repb'  occasionally,  and  now  and  again  the  quickly 
suppressed  sigh  which  was  very  near  to  a  hysterical  gasp. 
And  when,  at  midnight,  they  parted  to  go  to  their  homes, 
they  went  quietly. 

Little  Mrs.  Susie  kissed  Margaret  and  whispered  softly 
but  confidently : 

"I  feel  sure  that  he  is  safe — somehow  I  am  sure  of  it. " 

"Oh,  do  you?  I  wish  I  could  feel  so.  I  am  so  much 
afraid — why  should  I  be?  Oh,  Susie,  he  is  not  my 
husband  yet,  but  I  could  not  love  him  more  if  he  were — 
and  I  had  a  letter  from  him  yesterday,  so  loving  and 
true,  and  yet  there  was  such  a  sad  tone  to  it — I  cannot 
help  feeling  anxious " 


god's  war.  213 

''It  is  natural;  but  Nat  is  so  big  and  strong  you 
know — "  and  they  were  separated  by  the  crowd,  and 
each  went  her  way. 

Susie,  to  her  bed,  where  lay  little  Eosy  with  Dick  in 
his  crib  near  by.  The  little  girl's  soft  pink  hands  were 
clasped  over  her  breast  as  if  she  were  praying,  while 
Dick  with  head  thrown  back  and  brown,  chubby  fists 
clinched,  had  the  dauntless  look  of  the  father.  Somehow 
it  struck  Susie  that  this  was  all  as  it  should  be,  and 
rousing  her  maid-of-all-work  who  had  gone  to  sleep  on 
her  post,  she  sent  her  ofE  to  bed.  Then  turning  the 
light  down  so  that  it  gave  but  a  soft,  warm  glow,  she 
knelt  by  her  darlings  and  thanked  God  that  the  dear 
brave  husband  and  father  had  been  spared ;  with  the  ut- 
most confidence  that  it  was  so.  And  then  she  fell  asleep 
like  a  child. 

Margaret,  to  creep  to  her  home  cold  and  sick  at  heart 
and  filled  with  the  torture  of  her  fears  and  vague  and 
awful  doubts.  The  judge  kissed  her  kindlj'  and  pityingly 
as  he  bade  her  good-night;  for  wrestle  as  she  might  with 
her  agony  she  could  not  hide  it  all  from  his  keen,  loving 
eyes. 

To  her  pillow  alone  did  she  at  first  open  her  heart  and 
for  hours  she  wept  and  sighed  her  sorrows  there.  Then 
she  prayed — prayed  as  she  never  had  prayed  before  and 
wrestled  as  did  Jacob  for  the  blessing.  Her  faith  grew 
with  her  prayers,  each  moment  stronger  and  brighter, 
till  at  last  she  rose  to  her  feet  and  sought  her  father's 
bedside  with  a  song  of  rejoicing  in  her  heart. 

"Father,  father,  wake  up!  I  have  news — I  must  tell 
you!" 

The  old  man  sprang  up  in  alarm. 

"Why,  Margaret,  daughter,  what  is  it?     Are  you  ill?" 

"No,  father,  I  am  well.  I  have  come  to  tell  you  good 
news,"  and  standing  like  an  angel  robed  in  white  by  his 
couch  she  told  how  she  had  been  tortured  with  fears  and 
doubts  and  how  she  had  prayed  till  at  last  the  assurance 
had  come  to  her  from  Heaven  that  Miles  had  passed  safe 
and  unscathed  through  the  battle.  And  then  in  the 
glow  of  this  unwonted  feeling  that  had  come  over  her 
she  went  on  to  tell  the  old  man  of  the  letter  that  had  come 


314  god's  war. 

from  bim,  repeating  in  her  delirium  of  delight  the  fond 
messages  he  had  sent  which  showed  hoAv  loving  and  true 
and  noble  a  man  he  was.  It  was  not  strange  that  the 
father  was  at  first  alarmed,  and  that  he  strove  so  hard  to 
soothe  and  quiet  her,  for  never  before  to  any  human 
being  had  she  spoken  so  freely  and  unreservedly.  And 
he  almost  trembled  as  at  last  he  kissed  her  brov/  and  sent 
her  from  him,  and  he  sighed,  he  knew  not  why,  as  she 
noiselessly  passed  out  into  the  hall,  going  to  her  own 
room. 

She  paused  in  the  hall  to  listen  to  the  old  clock  on  the 
landing  as  it  struck,  echoing  through  the  quiet  house, 
one,  two,  three,  four!  Somehow  the  sound  only  added 
to  her  lightness  of  heart  and  she,  too,  fell  asleep  smiling. 

The  booming  from  the  Murfreesboro  steeple  at  the 
same  moment  filled  the  ears  of  Miles  Bancroft  as  he  crept 
over  the  battlefield,  like  a  guilty  thing  flying  from 
crime ! 


god's  war.  215 


CHAPTER  XX. 

"he  tried  to  choke  me  to  death." 

What  were  all  the  glories  of  the  great  victory  to  Nat, 
so  long  as  the  fate  of  his  boy-captain  was  shrouded  in  so 
much  mystery?  So  long,  too,  as  all  that  was  known  of 
Tom  only  gave  warrant  for  the  gravest  inferences? 

The  great-hearted  fellow  AVent  about  like  a  giant  whose 
soul  had  gone  out  of  him,  so  to  speak  ;  leaving  his  physi- 
cal ecouotny  still  working,  mechanically,  but  no  longer 
instinct  with  the  divine  essence.  The  love  he  bore  the 
boy  was  so  great  a  portion  of  his  \evy  life!  Away  back, 
as  we  have  seen,  in  the  early  days,  he  unconsciously 
cultivated  a  love  for  Tom;  they  had  enough  in  common 
and  yet  were  sufficeutly  dissimilar  to  make  a  strong  feel- 
ing of  mutual  regard  natural.  They  were  alike  in  that 
they  were  brave  and  daring  without  an  atom  of  vanity  or 
love  of  noisy  approbation;  they  were  alike  in  that  they 
abhorred  all  manner  of  shams  and  false  pretense,  differing 
in  that  it  was  Tom's  habit  to  pass  such  things  by  without 
deigning  remark,  while  Nat  was  accustomed  to  inveigh 
more  or  less  loudly  and  violently  against  them ;  they 
were  unlike  in  that  Tom  said  little  while  Nat  was  more 
voluble ^but  whether  Tom's  reticence  or  Nat's  shrewd 
observations  were  the  moi'e  admirable  was  a  question ; 
Tom  liked  Nat  because,  while  he  was  his  superior  in 
years  Nat  always  showed  him  a  quiet  deference  which 
was  grateful ;  Nat  loved  Tom  because  he  could  not  help 
it,  and  admired  him  as  an  extraordinary  being.  Tom 
knew  he  could  always  rely  on  Nat,  and  Nat  was  proud  to 
follow  Tom  and  back  him  up  in  anything  he  might  essay. 
Each  act  of  Tom  s  military  career  increased  the  pride 
and  affection  which   Nat  felt  for  him;  there  never  was 


JJ16  GOD'S   WAR. 

such  a  boy,  he  thought;  "he  would  give  even  'old  Jobn 
F. '  a  tight  rub  if   their  ages  were  the  same!"     "Words 
could  not  express   more! 

And  then,  you  know,  the  man  you  mess  with  and  buuk 
with  and  fight  side  by  side  with  for  months  growing  into 
years,  must,  if  he  do  not  become  utterlj-  hateful  to  you, 
fiad  his  way  into  j'our  heart  to  stay  there  so  long  as  life 
endures. 

It  needs  not  to  be  said  then,  understanding  all  this,  that 
Nat  spared  no  efifort  to  find  his  mate.  For  days  and 
week.3,  by  special  permission,  he  scoured  the  battlefield 
aal  prowled  among  the  hospitals,  even  going  back  to 
Naahvillo  to  search  among  the  wounded  there,  and  visit- 
ing every  hou.je  and  tent  and  camp  along  the  pike  leading 
to  that  city,  and  finally  penetrating  as  far  as  he  could 
into  the  enemy's  country — but  though  every  facility  was 
given  him  he  found  no  trace  of  the  boy  except  his  sword 
and  cap  which  lay  on  the  field  where  he  fell. 

No  one  had  seen  him  after  the  capture  of  the  batter3'. 
The  men  who  were  with  him  were  killed;  he  had  disap- 
peared as  completely  as  if  the  earth  had  opened  up  and 
swallowed  him. 

Miles  Bancroft  made  no  report  of  what  he  had  seen. 
Perhaps  the  statement  is  superfluous.  He  went  about  his 
duties  with  a  renewed  zeal  and  earnestness  after  the 
battle,  and  won  fresh  and  high  appreciation.  He  was 
but  little  changed;  except  that  whereas  he  had  once 
bean  abstemious,  and  companionable  to  those  he  liked, 
he  had  now  grown  more  and  more  fond  of  an  occasional 
glass  of  whisky,  and  was  more  reserved  and  less  talka- 
tive and  genial.  Still,  he  was  far  from  being  a  tippler 
and  was  not  at  all  morose.  The  change  in  him,  when  it 
wa^  observed  at  all,  was  attributed  to  commendable 
atnbition. 

But  I  am  talking  of  that  which  only  weeks  and  months 
suificed  to  accomplish  iu  Miles.  He  came  frequently 
enougb  to  the  regiment  to  keep  up  his  relations  with  the 
Olaytoa  boys,  but  he  did  not  cultivate  them,  any  more 
than  he  did  when  he  first  dropped  into  the  village,  years 
before. 

And  so  weeks    lapsed  into  months,  and  Tom  was  still 


god's  war.  217 

carried  on  the  rolls  as  "missing;"  till  at  last  everybody 
except  Nat  gave  him  uii  as  lost,  and  tlie  goveruor  com- 
missioned Nat  to  be  captain  in  Tom's  stead,  and  Nat 
very  reluctantly  took  the  place;  not  that  he  would  admit 
that  Tom  was  dead,  but  he  consented  to  step  into  his 
friend's  shoes  only  to  keep  a  stranger  from  assuming 
them. 

"He'll  turn  up  some  day,  and  then  I'll  step  out  and 
give  him  his  place  again;  it  stands  to  reason  that  he  isn't 
dead;  because — because — well,  because  if  the  Lord's  on 
our  side,  and  the  chaplain  saj's  in  his  sermons  that  He 
is,  and  old  Rosy  says  so  in  his  official  report — only  Rosy 
says  it  in  Latin,  but  it  means  the  same  thing — if  the 
Lord's  on  our  side,  and  the  weight  of  the  testimony  is 
in  favor  of  that  view  of  it,  why,  He  isn't  a-going  to 
throw  away  as  good  a  soldier  as  Tom  Bailey,  quite  so 
earb'  in  the  game!  Good  soldiers  ain't  quite  so  plenty 
as  all  that,  and  nobody  knows  it  better 'n  the  Lord!" 

This  doctrine  gave  great  comfort  to  Xerxes  Lycurgus 
McCurdy,  who  had  attached  himself  with  a  swift  affec- 
tion to  Tom.  He  was  a  pessimistic  darky  in  some 
things,  and  did  not  fully  share  Nat's  faith,  but  he  was 
eager  to  clutch  at  any  shadow  of  hope.  He  was  a  singu- 
lar compound  of  truth  and  falsehood,  honesty  and 
venality,  ignorance  and  shrewdness,  boldness  and  cow- 
ardice; but  his  affections  were  warm  and  clinging  and 
faithful  as  is  usual  with  his  race;  and  Tom  had  been 
kind  to  him  and  had  won  his  heart  completely. 

It  was  on  a  warm,  bright  day  in  May,  that  Nat,  lying 
at  ease  smoking  in  his  tent,  gazing  through  the  open  fly 
down  the  vista  of  the  company  street  to  the  softly  wooded 
hills  a  mile  or  two  away,  became  suddenly  possessed  of 
an  idea;  and  at  once  a  plan  to  find  Tom  flashed  into 
completeness. 

"  'Curg,  you  Baptist  hoodoo,  come  here!" 

The  rattle  of  pots  and  pans  in  the  kitchen  tent  in  the 
rear  ceased  at  once,  as  did  also  the  melodious  whistling 
of  one  of  those  weird  airs  only  heard  among  the  negroes 
of  the  South  and  which  I  have  alwaj^s  thought  must  have 
come  with  their  ancestors  from  the  wilds  of  Africa  s® 
barbarous  and  strangely  thrilling  are  they;  and  'Cuifg 
presented  himself  grinning. 


218  god's  war. 

"Wiisn't  de  coffee  strong  'nuff  dishyer  noiawiiin',  mass* 
oapt'n?" 

"Yes;  never  mind  the  coffee;  I've  got  an  errand  for 
j'ou  to  do;  go  put  on  your  coat." 

"Yessah!" 

In  a  moment  he  was  back  again,  clad  in  a  butternut 
suit,  from  top  to  toe — the  spoils  of  tlie  battlefield. 

"You  look  like  a  colonel  of  cavalry!    Got  any  money?" 

"No,  sab — hain't  been  paid  fob  a  yeah!" 

"What  a  liar  you  are!  Well,  here's  twenty  silver 
dollars;  bide  them  away  among  your  clothes  so  they 
won't  jingle. " 

"Yes,  sab,  dar  dey  is!  I'se  gwine  fob  ter  buy  a  coat 
wid  brass  buttons  and  shoulder-straps,  de  fust  thing!" 

"You're  going  to  do  nothing  of  the  sort.  You're  going 
to  find  Ca])tain  Tom!" 

"De  good  Lawd!" 

"That's  the  size  of  it;  go  down  toward  Shelbyville  a 
few  miles,  and  then  cut  off  in  a  southeasterly  direction, 
toward  MclMinnville — d'j-e  understand?" 

"Does  ye  really  mean  fob  me  ter  go,  cappen?" 

"I  certainly  do!" 

"Right  straight  away  off?" 

"At  once?" 

The  darky's  face  was  verj'  sober,  and  his  voice  had 
taken  serious  depth.  He  stood  looking  away  oft'  at  the 
horizon  for  a  little  time,  while  Nat  watched  him  narrowly. 
At  last  he  turned  slowly : 

"Who's  gwine  ter  cook  fob  ye,  while  I'se  gone?" 

The  last  doubt  was  removed  from  Nat's  mind.  He 
laughed  inwardly  but  his  face  was  quiet  and  earnest. 

"Nobody;  I'm  not  going  to  eat  anything  till  you  bring 
Captain  Tom  back." 

"De  good  Lawd!  Well,  good-by.  Mass'  Cappen!  I 
mus'  be  movin'  'long!" 

"You  can  get  through  the  picket-line,  can't  you?" 

"Dey's  got  ter  be  mightj'  smart  ef  I  don't!" 

"How  soon  will  I  hear  from  you?" 

"Soon's  I  find  de  j'oung  cappen!     Not  befoah!" 

"You'll  bring  him  back?" 

"Ef  he's  in  de  Ian'  ob  de  libin',  I  will;  an'  ef  he's 
dead  I'll  bring  you  de  word!"  •  - 


GOD'S  WAR.  2l9 

"Well,  good-by,  'Curg!" 

"Good-by!"  and  he  started  off  down  the  road,  whist- 
ling. Nat  stood  looking  after  him.  All  at  once  he 
stopped  and  turned : 

"I  say,  cappen,"  he  yelled. 

"Well?" 

"You'se  gwine  to  git  pow'ful  hongry  befoah  ye  heahs 
from  me!     Yah!     Yah!" 

"Well,  maybe  I  will!" 

The  darky  was  still  standing,  pondering. 

"I  say,  cappen,"  he  shouted  again. 

"Well?" 

"I'll  send  ye  word  by  a  nigga  once-twin-er-while!" 

"All  right — good — say,  come  here!" 

The  darky  retraced  his  steps. 

"Wherever  you  hear  of  any  pretty  women  in  the 
neighborhood,  you  look  into  things  mighty  sharp;  do 
you  understand?" 

"Yea,  sah!"  A  pause.  "You  don't  think  de  young 
cappen  would  a  run  off  after  a  purty  woman,  does  ye?" 

"No!  But  a  pretty  woman  would  run  after  him; 
especially  if  he  was  wounded;  and  he  wouldn't  run  away 
from  a  pretty  woman — especially  if  he  was  wounded ;  he 
ain't  no  fool.  Captain  Tom,  ain't!" 

"No,  sah!  'Deed  he  ain't!"  laughed  the  darky,  as 
he  turned  on  his  heel  and  once  more  took  up  his  path 
and  his  tune  where  he  had  left  off. 

Nat  watched  him,  till  he  was  lost  to  view,  and  then 
turned  back  to  camp  and  ordered  his  men  to  fall  in  for 
company  drill. 

Only  this  much  of  a  concession  could  he  consent  to 
make  to  the  feeling  that  possessed  him ;  and  his  pulse 
was  full  and  regular  and  his  glance  calm  and  untroubled 
and  his  appetite  as  eager  as  if  he  had  not  a  care  on  his 
mind;  and  j'et,  but  for  Susie  and  Dick  and  little  Eosy 
he  would  willingly  have  exchanged  places  with  Tom, 
wherever  the  boy  might  be  or  under  whatever  circum- 
stances; so  much  did  he  love  him  and  so  heavily  did  the 
dread  mystery  of  his  disappearance  weigh  constantly 
upon  his  mind. 

But  if  you  had  asked  Nat  whether  he  loved  Tom,  he 


^20  god's  war. 

would  have  been  furiously  indignant  at  such  an  impu- 
tation ;  for  in  Clayton  it  was  held  to  be  unmanly  in  one 
man  to  love  another;  he  might  like  him  and  love  a 
woman;  but  he  could  never  love  one  of  his  own  sex  and 
retain  his  manliness. 

Now  in  choosing  Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy  for  the 
dangerous  and  important  errand  upon  which  he  had  sent 
him,  Nat  showed  good  judgment.  The  black  fellow  came 
to  the  regiment  bringing  a  large  fund  of  shrewdness 
which  had  enabled  him  to  learn  from  his  new  friends,  and 
adapt  himself  to  their  ways  with  great  quickness.  The 
good  treatment  he  received  made  this  easier  for  him  as 
well  as  the  genuine  affection  he  soon  acquired  for  them. 

So  that,  in  his  way,  he  soon  offered  them  the  sincerest 
flattery — he  imitated  them  in  manners  and  speech  and 
even  in  modes  of  thought;  and  that  explains  why  it  was 
that  Nat  wasted  no  words  in  sending  the  darky  forth  to 
search  for  "the  young  cappen."  Accustomed  to  his 
ways,  and  having  studied  his  methods,  'Curg  was  only 
an  instant  in  getting  the  bearings  of  Nat's  observations, 
and  needed  no  detailed  instructions  or  hints. 

Even  if  the  mission  had  not  been  to  his  liking  he  would 
have  entered  upon  it  without  hesitation ;  but  it  was  to 
his  liking;  he  did  not  much  believe  that  Tom  was  living, 
but  he  was  willing  to  look  for  him,  and  if  his  search 
should  be  successful  of  all  things  nothing  would  make 
him  prouder  and  happier.  Then,  besides,  he  would  be 
foot-loose  and  fancy  free;  to  roam  about  as  he  wished, 
keeping  alwaj'^s  iu  mind,  of  course,  his  errand.  He  was 
a  thorough  adept  in  the  free-masonry  that  obtained  among 
the  colored  people  of  the  South,  and  had  no  care  for 
what  he  should  eat  nor  what  he  should  drink,  neither  the 
place  where  he  should  repose  himself;  these  things  would 
come  at  the  bidding  of  the  man  who  understood  how  to 
command  them,  and  he  knew.  The  story  of  that  free- 
masonry which  carried  on  an  important  work  among  these 
people  so  long  as  they  were  slaves,  and  especially  during 
the  war,  has  never  been  written,  and  I  fear  never  will  be; 
those  who  know  it  best  are  unable  to  give  it  shape.  But 
'Curg  was  in  it  and  of  it,  and  if  they  had  priests  in  the 
order  he  must  have  worn  the  miter  or  the  symbol  which 


GOD'S  WAR.  231 

corresponded  thereto.  In  addition  to  this  he  could  fiddle 
and  dance  and  sing  a  song  or  tell  a  story  with  the  best  of 
them,  and  to  crown  all  was  an  "exhorter  '  of  no  mean 
power  and  ability,  having  scriptural  terms  and  re- 
ligious tunes  at  his  tongue's  end  and  the  faculty  of 
warming  himself  up  with  the  fervor  of  his  own  eloquence 
and  the  sound  of  his  own  voice  in  a  way  that  awakened 
his  susceptible  hearers  and  carried  them  to  the  innermost 
vortex  of  shouting  ecstasy. 

All  these  he  used  with  great  skill  in  the  attainment  of 
his  object;  and  yet  he  was  a  long  time  about  it,  as  time 
goes,  and  more  than  four  months  elapsed  before  Nat  saw 
him  again — time  enough  to  get  very  "hongry"  in.  For 
weeks  he  hovered  about  the  place  where  poor  Tom  lay 
concealed  and  convalescing;  for,  whether  it  was  luck  or 
instinct  or  whatever  it  might  have  been  that  brought  the 
suggestion  to  Nat,  the  direction  he  gave  'Curg,  to  bear 
to  the  southeast,  toward  McMinnville,  was  the  proper  one. 

About  five  miles  from  that  town,  upon  the  side  of  a 
hill  so  high  and  so  precipitous  that  it  was  fairly  entitled 
to  be  called  a  mountain,  stood  a  log  cabin  of  two  rooms, 
substantially  built  and  covered  with  vines  and  shrouded 
with  dwarf  cedars  and  other  scrubby  trees — so  that  one 
might  pass  within  a  rod  of  it  and,  hearing  no  noise  and 
seeing  no  smoke,  have  no  idea  of  its  presence. 

On  the  southwesterly  side  of  the  house  the  hill  fell  off 
with  such  abruptness  that  its  face  could  not  be  scaled; 
and  here  a  shelf  of  rock  jutted  out  as  if  contrived  for  a 
lookout.  Beneath  it  stretched  miles  of  wild,  beautiful 
country  which  the  eye  might  feast  upon  at  time  of  leisure. 

In  that  cabin,  attended  constantly  by  a  big,  broad, 
good-natured  black  woman,  and  visited  occasionally  by 
Ethel  Lynde,  Tom  had  lain  for  four  months,  struggling 
with  death,  and  now,  having  conquered,  convalescing  as 
I  have  said. 

By  what  means  she  had  got  him  there  need  not  be 
recounted,  but  there  he  was;  saved  by  the  woman  he 
loved,  the  woman  who  loved  him  more  sincerely  and 
honestly  beyond  question  than  she  had  ever  loved  any 
other  human  being.  Woman  she  was;  and  ten  years 
at  least,  Tom's  elder.     It  was  only  in  the  agony  of  her 


2^3  GOD'S  WAR. 

self-reproach  that  she  rashly  admitted  on  the  battlefield 
of  Stone  River  that  she  was  old  enough  to  be  his 
mother — ^and  the  devil  himself  would  not  have  thought 
her  to  be  more  than  seventeen,  if  he  had  no  better  means 
of  telling  her  age  than  to  merely  judge  by  her  appear- 
ance— but  he  had. 

She  had  moved  him  when  he  was  to  all  intents  and 
purposes  a  dead  man,  to  this  eyrie  of  hers,  refusing  and 
disdaining  all  medical  or  surgical  help;  and  had,  with 
the  assistance  of  the  buxom  colored  woman,  nursed  him 
back  to  life.  She  knew  little  of  the  art  of  treating  wounds, 
and  the  black  woinan  knew  less;  but  tbeir  fingers  were 
light  and  soft,  and  they  applied  simple  dressings  to  his 
wounds  and  gave  him  nourishing  food. 

Did  she  refuse  the  aid  of  the  surgeons  because  she  had  a 
vague  hope,  which  she  would  not,  perhaps,  acknowledge 
to  herself,  that  he  might  die  in  her  arms  and  thus  cut  off 
all  the  terrible  possibilities  that  she  saw  looming  in  the 
future  if  he  lived?  Or  did  she  have  faith  that  she  could 
restore  him  and  was  she  jealously  unwilling  that  he 
should  owe  life  to  any  one  else? 

The  wound  at  the  base  of  the  skull  seemed  only  a 
bruise  with  a  laceration  of  the  scalp,  and  it  healed  first; 
but  the  bayonet-thrust  through  the  lungs  was  obstinate, 
and  kept  the  boy  weak  from  its  great  drain  upon  his 
system  for  a  long  time.  Still,  after  many  daj's  it,  too, 
began  to  grow  better,  and  at  last  he  grew  strong  enough 
to  sit  up,  and  then  to  walk  about  the  house  and  finally 
to  go  out  to  the  shelf  of  rock  where  he  would  spend  hours 
gazing  upon  the  beautiful  scene  with  eyes  which  seemed 
to  note  nothing.  He  talked  but  little,  even  to  Ethel,  and 
seemed  to  be  struggling,  at  times,  with  an  effort  to  recall 
something  which  constantly  eluded  him. 

Ethel  came  to  him  at  irregular  intervals.  Sometimes 
she  would  be  absent  two  and  even  three  weeks;  on  her 
return  she  would  be  with  him  a  day,  occasionally  two  or 
three  days.  While  with  him  she,  too,  was  silent  and  re- 
pressed. For  hours,  latterly,  she  would  sit  by  his  side, 
holding  his  hand,  and  alternately  looking  out  over  the 
hills,  and  then  into  his  face,  throwing  into  her  eyes  when 
he  returned  her  gaze  such  strength  of  eager  questioning 


GOD'S  WAR.  233 

as  one  would  think  would  have  had  power  to  make  an 
image  speak.  And  he  would  permit  his  hand  to  rest  in 
hers  as  if  he  was  quite  as  well  satisfied  with  that  as  he 
could  be  with  anything  else  that  was  a  matter  of  indiffer- 
ence with  him;  and  his  eyes  met  hers  with  honest  frank- 
ness but  without  a  gleam  to  show  that  he  read  her 
question  or  had  any  answer  of  any  sort  to  give  her  or  un- 
derstood that  their  relations  were  novel  and  had  not 
always  been  so.  In  fact  Tom  behaved  like  a  man  who 
was  bereft  of  all  his  wits  save  those  which  enabled  him 
to  eat  when  he  was  hungry,  drink  when  he  was  thirsty, 
sleep  when  he  was  drowsy  and  come  in  when  it  rained. 

Only  in  the  one  thing  did  he  show  that  he  had  such  a 
thing  as  a  mind ;  and  that  was  in  his  frequently  recurring 
brown  study,  when,  as  I  have  said,  he  seemed  to  ba 
trying  to  recall  something. 

The  woman  was  puzzled.  Not  once  had  he  spoken  her 
name  since  that  frightful  moment  on  the  battlefield, 
when  he  called  upon  her  for  water.  And  yet  his  powers 
of  speech  were  not  impaired.  He  was  always  prompt  to 
reply  to  questions  or  remarks  concerning  ordinary 
things;  but  he  never  spoke  her  name,  or  indeed,  gave 
her  any  appellation ;  and  when  she  spoke  to  him  of  things 
that  had  occurred  prior  to  the  battle  he  smiled  blandly 
upon  her  as  if  she  were  saying  something  which  required 
no  response. 

She  was  greatly  puzzled.  He  showed  no  affection  for 
her  nor  interest  in  her  any  more  than  in  the  black  woman 
whose  kindness  he  appreciated  just  as  much,  apparently, 
as  he  did  Ethel's  devotion,  Ethel  blushed  sometimes 
when  she  found  herself  striving  by  the  arts  she  knew  so 
well  how  to  use  and  which  she  had  so  often  used  success- 
fully, to  make  him  give  some  sign  that  he  still  loved 
her.  But,  although  she  went  beyond  all  precedent,  she 
got  no  response. 

"Can  it  be,"  she  asked  herself,  "that  this  is  contempt; 
that  he  suspects  or  knows  the  truth,  and  that  this  has 
killed  his  love?" 

There  was  nothing  to  show  that  this  was  the  case; 
nothing  to  show  that  the  old  love  had  ever  existed  or 
that  a  new  love  was  possible;  he  might  just  as  well  have 
been  without  a  heart,  so  far  as  this  was  concerned. 


224  god's  war. 

Away  off  there  in  that  secluded  spot  he  was  tranquil 
and  apparently  safe  from  intrusion,  although  the  country 
round  about  swarmed  with  the  soldiers  of  the  two  armies. 

A  path  not  easy  to  find  led  to  the  house  and  no  one 
but  the  two  women  appeared  there  for  long  weeks.  He 
was  always  quiet  and  j^atient  and  gentle  and  pleasaut; 
and  tried,  evidently,  if  he  had  any  volition  of  mind  at 
all,  to  give  as  little  trouble  as  possible. 

But  the  look  that  showed  some  sort  of  disturbance  of 
his  mental  faculties,  feeble  though  it  might  be,  came 
with  greater  frequency  as  health  and  strength  came  back 
to  him. 

"Is  he  thinking  whether  he  ought  to  kill  me,  as  I 
deserve?"  she  asked  herself;  "or  what  does  it  mean?" 

The  answer  came  very  unexpectedly  one  daj',  late  in 
June.  Ethel,  coming  back  from  an  absence  of  three 
weeks,  had  seated  herself  by  him  on  the  shelf  of  rock, 
and  sat  looking  abroad,  with  an  anxious,  troubled  ex- 
pression. Suddenly,  right  below  them,  rang  out  the 
sharp  reports  of  a  battery  of  artillery,  one  gun  following 
the  other  so  quickly  that  the  fresh  report  leaped  full 
upon  the  front  of  the  echo  of  the  first,  crowding  the  hills 
with  a  crashing  roar  that  went  flying  hither  and  thither 
for  escape. 

Tom  rose  quickly  to  his  feet  and  bent  over  the  edge  of 
the  rock  looking  down  into  the  valley,  where  a  cavah'y 
skirmish,  plainly  visible  and  not  a  half  a  mile  away,  had 
just  sprung  into  life.  Ethel,  with  her  hand  upon  his  arm 
gazed  at  him  with  parted  lips. 

All  at  once  he  fell  a-trembling  and  then  turned  to  her 
with  blazing  eyes  saying  hoarsely :  "He  tried  to  choke 
me  to  death!" 


GOD*S  WAR.  225 


CHAPTER  XXL 

A    RASH    VOLUNTEER. 

General  Eosecrans'  record  in  the  War  of  the  Eebellion 
has  amply  demonstrated  his  right  to  be  regarded  as  a 
great  and  brilliant  strategist.  His  weak  point  was  shown 
when  the  quick  happenings  of  battle  upset  his  precon- 
ceived plans  with  either  unexpected  success  or  an  un- 
looked-for reverse.  At  such  times  he  seemed  wildly 
elated  or  utterly  bewildered ;  his  elation  made  him  vis- 
ionary ;  while  under  defeat  he  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do ; 
and  while  he  was  building  air-castles  upon  his  unlooked- 
for  victory,  or  was  taking  time  (when  he  did  take  time) 
to  adjust  himself  and  his  army  to  the  changed  condition 
of  things  occasioned  by  his  reverse,  and  make  new  plans, 
the  enemy,  cooler  and  more  vigilant,  sometimes  pushed 
on  to  success  or  dared  a  defeat  which  if  it  came  was  not 
owing  to  the  Union  general's  readiness.  It  may  be  that 
in  some  cases  of  his  disasters  his  subordinates  were 
more  to  blame  than  he  for  the  failure  of  his  elaborately 
laid  plans;  sometimes  subordinate  commanders  do  more 
toward  whipping  their  own  army  than  the  enemy ;  and 
wherever  the  opportunity  occurs,  as  on  Wednesday  at 
Stone  Eiver,  for  instance,  Eosecrans  ought  to  have  the 
benefit  of  this  doubt;  because,  notwithstanding  his  one 
weak  point,  he  was  unquestionably  a  brave  and  patriotic 
and  much  more  than  ordinarily  skillful  soldier. 

In  June  1863,  General  Bragg  lay  at  his  ease,  ruling 
throughout  nearly  all  of  Middle  Tennessee,  and  having 
in  his  possession  East  Tennessee,  with  Chattanooga  for 
his  distributing  base  of  supplies,  Shelby  ville,  strongly  in- 
trenched, for  his  headquarters,  with  a  coiys  d'arme  in  the 
town   and   another   in   its  front  holding    advantageous 


236  god's  war. 

positions  at  Liberty  Gap,  Hoover's  Gap,  and  Bellbuckle 
Gap,  openings  through  which  alone  the  range  of  moun- 
tainous hills  between  the  two  armies  could  be  passed  by 
wagons  and  artillery ;  Tullahoma,  about  fifteen  miles  to 
the  southeast  of  Shelby  ville,  was  the  depot  of  supplies  for 
the  Confederate  Army  in  Middle  Tennessee.  Shelbyville 
lies  almost  due  south  of  Murfreesboro  and  perhaps  twenty- 
five  or  twenty-eight  miles  distant.  From  Columbia,  lying 
about  thirty  miles  west  of  Shelbj'ville  to  McMinnville, 
perhaps  thirty-five  miles  east  of  his  headquarters,  Bragg 
had  a  chain  of  troops,  cavah^  and  infantry  and  guerrillas, 
amply  sufficient,  one  would  think,  to  guard  against  all 
danger  of  a  surprise  from  an  army  moving  from  Mur- 
freesboro to  attack  him,  and  not  strong  enough  to  scatter 
itself  with  any  safetj'  over  the  country. 

Passing  south,  and  especially  southeast  from  Mur- 
freesboro the  country  grows  more  and  more  rough  and 
hilly  till  the  Cumberland  Mountains  are  encountered  at 
the  cornering  of  Georgia  and  Alabama  near  Bridgeport 
in  the  northeastern  part  of  the  latter  State ;  and  this 
was  the  route  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  had  to  take. 

An  old  soldier  can  readily  see  what  all  this  involves; 
the  dragging  of  supply  and  ammunition  teams  for  an 
army  of  between  sixty  and  seventy  thousand  men,  to  say 
nothing  of  artillery,  over  rough  country  roads  scarcely 
more  than  blazed,  through  forests  and  rocky  defiles,  up 
and  down  hills  so  large  that  they  scarcely  escape  proper 
classification  as  mountains.  Add  to  these  difficulties, 
great  enough  in  themselves,  the  further  embarrassment 
of  a  heavy  and  steadily  downpouriug  rain,  to  soften  fields 
and  roads  and  to  make  the  clay  hills  slippery  as  soap, 
and  some  idea  may  be  gained  by  even  those  who  are 
unaccustomed  to  war,  of  the  magnitude  of  the  undertaking 
that  lay  before  General  Kosecrans.  For  during  the  nine 
days  consumed  in  the  Tullahoma  campaign  proper,  it 
rained  constantly;  till  the  soldiers  of  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland,  remembering  how  it  rained  during  the 
Stone  River  campaign  began  to  complain  that  they  were 
growing  web-footed;  which  was  something  not  required 
by  the  articles  of  war,  and  to  which  they  had  not  pledged 
themselves  when  they  enlisted. 


god's  war.  227 

With  flanks  so  widely  extended  to  deal  with,  it  was  of 
course  out  of  the  question  to  undertake  to  go  around 
them,  while  the  front  was  so  well  protected  by  earthworks 
that  it  would  have  been  folly  to  have  assaulted  them  and 
the  two  corps  which  held  them,  and  be  exposed  at  the 
same  time  to  the  operations  of  the  outlying  troops  who 
could  be  easily  concentrated  from  the  two  far  stretching 
wings  and  hurled  upon  the  rear  of  the  assailants. 
General  Rosecrans  therefore  decided  to  throw  his  army 
in  a  body  as  compact  as  might  be  possible  upon  a  point 
to  the  right,  or  west  of  Shelby ville,  with  the  purpose  to 
break  the  line  and  if  Bragg  should  wait  for  him,  of  at- 
tacking Shelbyville  from  the  south.  The  three  corps  of 
the  army,  Thomas'  (the  Fourteenth),  McCook's  (the 
Twentieth),  and  Crittenden's  (the  Twenty-first)  were  put 
in  motion  toward  Bragg 's  right,  on  the  23d  of  June, 
while  Granger's  reserve  corps  (the  Fourth)  made  a  feint 
on  the  left;  and  the  cavalry  under  Stanley  were  set  at  it 
to  amuse  Bragg's  troops  all  along  the  extent  of  his  front, 
so  as  to  keep  them  from  conspiring  together  in  numbers 
too  formidable  at  any  single  point  on  the  long  line. 

The  weather  was  extremely  warm,  usually,  during  the 
daytime — with  that  peculiarly  sticky,  sultry  quality  to 
the  atmosphere  so  exasperating  when  men  are  at  hard 
work  or  in  a  great  hurry — while  at  night  it  was  too  cool 
for  comfort,  especially  when  wet  green  wood  refused  to 
do  much  more  than  smoke  the  eyes  till  they  grew  both 
red  and  raw. 

Perhaps  not  much  of  the  details  of  the  "Tullahoma 
campaign"  need  to  be  given,  and  it  will  be  sufficient  to 
say  that  in  five  days  Bragg  had  been  driven  from  Shelby- 
ville and  in  four  days  more  from  Tullahoma  as  well,  and 
that  Eosecrans  had  conquered  the  country  clear  up  to  the 
gates  of  Chattanooga  with  a  loss  of  only  five  hundred  and 
eighty  men;  while  Bragg  lost  nearly  two  thousand  who 
were  taken  prisoners,  eight  field  pieces,  and  three  rifled 
siege  guns,  to  say  nothing  of  material  left  behind  in  his 
hasty  and  undignified  and  inglorious  retreat.  Of  the 
numbers  of  his  killed  and  wounded  we  have  no  account. 

It  was  an  encounter  between  some  of  Stanley's  Union 
cavalry  and  Wheeler's  Confederates,  that  awakened  Tom's 


228  god's  war. 

sleeping  senses  and  gave  hina  the  key  to  the  riddle  that 
had  seemed  to  puzzle  him  so  long.  And  a  very  pretty- 
fight  it  was,  too,  especially  when  seen  from  a  safe  distance, 
for  it  was  stubbornly  and  gallantly  maintained  on  both 
sides. 

Ethel  was  dismayed  when  Tom  turned  to  her  with  his 
flashing  eyes  and  shouted  out  so  strangely  the  solution 
to  his  haunting  enigma;  but  she  mentally  braced  herself 
for  what  might  follow.  Never  before  had  Tom  given  the 
slightest  indication  by  word  or  gesture  that  he  remem- 
bered anything  of  the  occurrences  of  that  awful  night  on 
the  battlefield.  Now  that  he  had  recalled  this  much, 
where  would  his  remembrances  stop?  "Would  it  all  come 
back  to  him?  "Would  he  see  her  as  she  was  and  then  de- 
spise and  spurn  her?  Unquestionably  he  would  drive 
her  from  him  if  he  ever  came  to  understand  her  properly. 

She  never  before  felt  so  keenly  and  bitterly  the  piti- 
fulness  of  her  position. 

She  was  flattered  arid  courted  by  men  wherever  she 
went,  but  loved  purely  and  truly  by  none.  She  played 
her  part  with  her  victims  and  tools  within  the  Union  lines, 
but  she  knew  that  among  them  all  she  had  inspired  no 
noble  passion ;  Miles  Bancroft  was  mad  with  an  unhal- 
lowed, feverish,  devilish  love  for  her;  he  would  give  his 
life  as  he  had  given  his  soul  for  her;  but  of  all  men  on 
the  face  of  the  earth  she  loathed  him  the  most;  and  never 
so  much  as  when  with  wheedling  caresses  she  stole  from 
him  the  secrets  of  the  camp  she  was  set  to  watch. 

Among  the  Confederates  she  met  with  flattery  and 
praise  and  sometimes  a  forced  attempt  at  gallant  badin- 
age; here  she  reigned  in  one  sense  a  queen,  because  no 
one  else  could  do  the  work  with  such  marvellous  speed 
and  accuracy  and  safety  as  she  could ;  but  men  looked 
upon  her  as  being  what  she  actually  was — a  spy — and 
their  admiration  never  got  beyond  admiration ;  they  as- 
signed to  the  one  who  was  willing  to  do  such  work  such 
qualities  as  would  forever  forbid  the  thought  of  anything 
more;  one  may  admire  the  colors  and  graceful  coils  and 
horrible,  supple  strength  of  a  serpent,  but  without  the 
slightest  inclination  to  cultivate  an  intimacy  with  the 
monster. 


god's  war.  229 

The  woman  had  a  side  the  world  never  saw.  She  knew 
as  no  one  else  did  why  she,  beautiful  and  accomplished 
and  naturally  amiable  and  affectionate  and  of  noble  im- 
pulses, had  chosen  to  perform  the  work  in  which  she  was 
engaged.  She  knew  that  day  by  day  the  gnawing  worm 
burrowed  deeper  and  deeper  into  her  heart  and  gave 
her  no  peace,  although  she  smiled  and  was  gay  and  deb- 
onair, or  timid  and  helpless,  or  bold  and  splendid, 
daring  or  trustful,  as  her  business  required.  She  knew 
that  though  she  was  filled  with  a  hungry  longing  for  the 
best  that  the  world  and  humanity  could  ever  give  to  her 
starving  soul,  it  would  never  come  to  her;  that  at  the 
best  it  would  never  come  to  stay. 

When  Tom  fell  into  her  net,  she  knew  that  she  was  a 
fool  to  dream  the  happy  dreams  that  his  coming  awakened  ; 
but  for  her  life  she  could  not  help  it.  At  first  she  was 
only  amused;  she  encouraged  him  more  by  way  of  a  re- 
laxation and  a  recreation  than  anything  else;  she  knew 
that,  as  a  captain  in  an  infantry  regiment  he  would  never 
be  of  any  use  to  her  in  her  business;  captains  having 
charge  of  companies,  in  a  large  army,  are  seldom  bur- 
dened with  weighty  secrets  of  the  commanding  general's 
plans;  but  he  was  so  brave,  so  bold,  so  straightforward 
and  honest  in  his  boyish  enthusiasm,  and  so  unconscious 
of  the  wonderful  attractiveness  of  his  fresh,  simple 
manhood,  that  she  could  not  but  admire  him;  and  when 
he  poured  out  his  passion  headlong,  crowning  her,  in 
his  ignorance  and  trustfulness  with  all  that  charms  in  a 
Iiure  and  guileless  maiden,  she  was  touched  and  grieved; 
and  her  grief  led  her  to  wish  that  she  was  what  he  thought 
she  was,  and  the  willful  love  for  the  boy  that  soon  came 
to  her  made  her  play  the  part — made  her  try  to  deceive 
even  herself — till  her  own  passion  got  beyond  her  control. 

She  had  meant  to  break  with  him,  quietly  but  deci- 
sively some  day — after  she  had  indulged  herself  for  a 
little,  brief  moment  in  the  clear,  bracing  atmosphere  of  a 
pure  love,  as  she  never  could  hope  to  do  again — but  the 
selfishness  of  her  passion  strengthened  as  she  dallied 
with  her  contemplated  duty,  and  she  soon  found  herself 
bound  in  chains. 

Why  should  she  not  have  at  least  one  blessing   in  her 


230  GOD*S  WAR. 

life  of  acrid  bitterness?  "Why  should  there  not  be  at 
least  one  human  being  upon  whom  her  caresses  should 
not   fall   like   an    accursed,  burning,  withering    blight? 

She  asked  herself  these  questions  when,  after  his  re- 
covery seemed  to  be  assured,  she  found  that  he  was 
changed  and  had  lost  his  former  life.  She  cultivated  a 
hope  that  he  would  remain  so,  unjust  and  hard  as  such  a 
hope  might  appear;  and  that  when  quiet  came  again  she 
might  go  with  him  away  from  all  danger  of  detection, 
and  live  an  honest  life  with  him,  such  as  would  be  pos- 
sible only  so  long  as  he  remained  so  nearb'  a  fool. 

It  was  hard  that  he  should  not  love  her — and  it  was 
clear  that  his  power  to  do  that  had  gone  with  his  other 
missing  faculties;  but  he  would  continue  to  respect  her 
— he  was  al\va3's  too  kind  and  thoughtful  to  ask  her  any 
questions — and  he  might  remain  thus. 

Tom  had  told  her  in  Nashville  so  much  of  his  life  as 
satisfied  her  that  she  would  be  wronging  no  one  but  him 
if  she  thus  carried  him  off;  there  was  no  mother  nor  sister 
nor  sweetheart  to  grieve  over  his  absence  and  die  from 
the  mystery  of  his  disappearance. 

And  now,  was  all  this  castle  she  had  so  carefully  and 
fearfully  reared  to  fall  and  crumble  to  nothing  at  the 
sound  of  the  guns  bellowing  so  viciously  below  there? 
She  suffered  from  the  agony  of  her  apprehensions  for 
only  a  moment  however. 

The  boy  showed  no  surprise  at  the  scene  below.  It 
was  as  if  he  was  used  to  look  on  something  of  the  sort 
every  day ;  but  he  was  interested ;  he  watched  eagerly 
and  with  the  eye  of  an  expert;  "No,  no!"  he  would  say. 
"You're  wrong — don't  you  see?  Push  for  the  right 
flank — he  can't  get  away  then!  Take  j^our  guns  around 
there  to  the  left — why,  confound  the  fellow,  he  doesn't 
know  any  more  about  war  than  a  last  year's  bird's  nest!" 

His  elevated  position  gave  him  the  advantage  of  a  full 
view  of  the  whole  field;  and  strangely  enough  all  his 
sympathies  were  in  favor  of  the  Confederates!  Was  this 
explained  by  the  fact  that  he  still  wore  the  gray  uniform 
in  which  Ethel  had  caused  him  to  be  clothed  when  she 
took  him  off  the  field? 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked. 


GOD'S  WAR.  231 

"Why,  the  fellow   will  let  them  all  get    away!     He 
doesn't  know  how  to  fight!     I  must  go  and  show  him!" 

"No,  no!"  she  cried. 

But  it  was  too  late ;  leaping  lightly  to  a  swinging  grape- 
vine which  trailed  over  a  corner  of  the  rock,  he  let  him- 
self down  rapidly,  hand  over  hand,  while  she,  above, 
watched  him,  giddily.  He  was  as  quick  as  a  monkey 
and  she  marvelled  and  rejoiced  at  his  skill ;  till  suddenly 
he  missed  his  hold,  grasped  at  the  empty  air  and  then 
whirling,  fell  heavily  on  the  rocks  below. 


232  GOD'S  WAR. 


CHAPTER  XXIL 

THE   SUPERIORITY   OF   HINDSIGHT    OVER   FORESIGHT. 

Hindsight  wins  a  thousand  victories  where  foresight 
barely  manages,  by  hook  or  by  crook,  to  achieve  one. 
This  is  a  hard  but  a  true  saying. 

So  that  it  is  perfectly  easy,  my  friend,  for  you  and  me, 
sitting  here  with  our  pipes  and  at  our  ease,  shouldering 
our  crutches  and  showing  how  fields  were  lost  and  won, 
to  go  further  and  show  how  fields  that  were  lost,  might 
have  been  won  if  the  foresight  of  the  unfortunate  com- 
mander had  been  equal  to  our  hindsight;  if  he  had  only 
known  then  as  much  about  the  condition  of  things  as  we 
do  now,  conning  over  reports  and  growing  wise  over 
maps;  if  he  had  weighed  as  accurately  then  as  we  do 
now  the  efifect  of  feinting  and  charging  and  shifting  of 
troops,  as  well  as  the  purposes  and  intuitions  of  the 
enemj'.  Volumes  might  be  written  and  doubtless  have 
been  written  showing  the  value  of  ex  post  facto  wisdom. 

Still,  it  is  probably  true  that  it  can  be  shown  that  bat- 
tles have  been  lost  through  the  fault  of  commanders;  and 
that  the  weakness  of  generals,  of  one  sort  or  another,  has 
contributed  to  bring  disaster  upon  nations  and  peoples; 
and  it  is  the  misfortune  of  the  weakling  that  when  he  has 
made  his  mistake  he  must  take  his  punishment  for  it  as 
if  it  had  been  a  crime.  This  law  is  unquestionably  a 
cruel  one,  but  it  may  not  be  evaded.  It  is  in  human 
nature  and  is  modeled  upon  a  higher  one,  as  we  are 
taught. 

The  Great  Maker  sends  a  human  being  into  the  world 
so  illy  prepared  to  meet  its  trials  and  temptations  that  it 
is  inevitable  that  he  shall  err;  and  for  every  error  there 
is  provided  an  inexorable  punishment.     This  goes  to  the 


god's  war.  233 

utmost  extreme;  for  the  human  being  may  be  sent  into 
the  world  with  such  faults  and  tendencies  that  it  is 
bej^oud  peradveuture  that  he  shall  commit  the  unpar- 
donable sin ;  whereupon  it  is  provided  by  divine  com- 
mand that  he  shall  be  forever  damned  and  tormented 
throughout  all  eternity. 

But  this  puzzling  thing  has  nothing  to  do  with  this 
story. 

There  is  this  difference  between  the  two;  that  whereas 
the  Great  Maker  has  it  in  His  power  to  create  His  human 
being  with  such  strength,  so  perfectly,  that  he  will  not 
and  cannot  err,  just  as  easily  as  to  make  him  so  weak 
that  it  is  foreordained  that  he  must  err,  on  the  other 
hand  we  mortals  have  no  power  in  constructing  men's 
souls  and  minds  and  hearts,  and  therefore  have  no  re- 
sponsibility for  them;  while  at  the  same  time  we  have 
ample  verge  and  scope,  in  our  knowledge  of  these  inevit- 
able imperfections  in  each  other,  to  be  charitable,  one 
toward  the  other.  And  if  we  are  taught  the  divine  law 
aright,  and  understand  it  properly,  it  does  seem  that  the 
human  law  is  the  kindlier,  and  that  in  administering  it, 
we  are  more  charitable — since  for  offenses  of  this  sort 
our  punishment  is  not  extreme  though  it  ma}'  be  hard 
and  unjust.  The  divine  law  adjures  us  to  be  charitable; 
and  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  think  we  are  entitled  to 
more  credit  than  we  give  ourselves — for  obeying  that 
injunction,  in  some  measure  at  least. 

But  there  can  be  no  doubt  but  that  General  Rosecrans 
must  accept  the  responsibility  of  having  fought  a  battle 
at  Chickamauga  which  was  one  of  the  bloodiest  in  the 
history  of  wars,  and  seemed  productive  of  no  good  re- 
sults, when  he  might  have  avoided  it,  perhaps  altogether, 
or  at  all  events  might  have  managed  it  to  fight  his  battle, 
if  a  battle  was  inevitable  after  having  flanked  Bragg  out 
of  Chattanooga,  on  better  terms  and  under  circumstances 
which  would  have  made  it  less  bloody  and  more  decisive 
of  good  results. 

There  are  two  theories  as  to  why  he  fought  this  battle, 
which  will  be  considered  further  on. 

At  the  close  of  the  Tullahoma  campaign,  Rosecrans 
established  his  army  in  the  country  between  McMinnville 


234  GOD'S   WAR. 

on  the  north,  Winchester  on  the  west,  and  Stevenson  and 
Bridgeport  in  the  south,  a  line  about  sixty  miles  long 
from  north  to  south,  deflected  a  few  miles  to  the  west  to 
touch  Winchester.  Bragg,  having  been  flanked  out  of 
Shelbyville  and  Tullahoma  with  such  neatness  and  dis- 
patch as  was  fairly  laughable,  brought  up  at  Chattanooga 
with  his  army  intact,  and  set  himself  down  in  that 
stronghold  made  more  secure  by  earthworks  and  in- 
trenchments,  and  like  a  boy  with  a  chip  on  his  shouldei-, 
"dared"  his  enemy  "to  do  it  again."  And,  as  it  fre- 
quently occurs  to  boj^s  or  men  who  become  thus  foolishly 
insincere  (for  he  didn't  want  him  to  do  it  agaiu,  any 
more  than  the  boy  wants  the  chip  knocked  off  again), 
Eosecrans  went  incontinently  to  work  and  did  do  it  again. 

The  misfortune  was  that  having  done  it  again,  the 
Union  commander  was  not  content  to  let  well  enough 
alone.  It  sometimes  happens  that,  the  fellow  having 
knocked  the  chip  off  of  the  other  fellow's  shoulder  upon 
repeated  and  clearly  insincere  invitations  thereto,  grows 
more  obtrusive  than  has  been  demanded  or  requested  of 
him,  and,  proceeding  to  take  further  liberties,  gets  wal- 
lopped,  and  has  nobody  to  thank  for  his  pains  but  him- 
self. He  is  fortunate,  or  the  community  is,  if  he  takes 
all  the  punishment  in  his  own  person.  The  general  who 
gets  into  this  sort  of  a  fix,  however,  seldom  suffers  as 
much  as  the  country  does. 

Of  course  it  was  not  only  because  Bragg  tauntingly 
"dared"  him  that  Eosecrans  drove  him  out  of  Chat- 
tanooga; there  were  the  most  imperative  reasons  why 
that  city  should  be  in  the  possession  of  the  Union  forces. 

To  secure  it  would  be  to  gain  a  great  advantage  and  to 
hasten  the  work  of  putting  down  the  rebellion.  It  was 
in  the  fulfillment  of  a  high  and  patriotic  duty  that  Eose- 
crans sounded  the  onset. 

Chattanooga  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  valley  flanked  on  the 
east  by  a  chain  of  bold  hills  known  as  Missionarj--  Eidge, 
and  on  the  west  by  a  monarch  among  hills,  known  as 
Lookout  Mountain.  Owing  to  the  course  of  the  river 
(the  Tennessee)  at  this  point,  however,  the  valley  makes  up 
from  Lookout,  leaving  the  northern  extremity  of  that 
mountain  some  three  miles  to  the  south  of  the  citj',  the 


GOD*S  WAR.  235 

river  forming  the  western  boundary  as  it  does  the 
northern  and  a  small  part  of  the  southern.  From  the 
northeast  and  northwest,  Chattanooga  is  the  natural 
gateway,  set  among  towering  mountains,  to  the  great  cot- 
ton belt  of  the  South — the  richest  portion  of  that  country'. 
At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  railroads  centered  there 
which,  with  their  connecting  lines,  formed  communica- 
tion with  the  north,  east,  west,  south,  southeast,  north- 
east, southwest  and  northwest.  From  a  military  point 
of  view  it  was  of  more  importance  than  any  other  city 
still  in  the  hands  of  the  Confederates,  save  Kichmond 
alone. 

Eosecrans  had  a  choice  as  to  how  he  should  approach 
Chattanooga.  Going  east  and  north  he  might  cross  the 
river  above  the  city  and  thus  get  into  the  valley ;  or  he 
might  go  south,  crossing  the  stream  forty  miles  below  the 
place,  and  approach  it  from  the  south  after  having  made 
a  very  long  and  circuitous  march.  Adopting  the  first 
plan,  he  would  have  to  march  over  the  Cumberland 
Mountains,  and  then  cross  Walden's  Eidge,  a  formidable 
range  running  along  the  west  bank  of  the  river.  Eeaching 
the  point  at  which  he  desired  to  cross  the  stream  his  pas- 
sage would  doubtless  be  hotly  contested;  having  suc- 
ceeded, however,  in  getting  across  (which  he  might  or 
might  not  be  able  to  do,  after  all),  he  would  find  him- 
self confronted  by  an  army  nearly  as  large  as  his  own  in 
an  intrenched  camp  with  its  lines  of  communication  in 
good  shape,  while  he  would  have  to  rely  upon  wagon 
transportation  over  two  mountain  ranges  for  his  supplies; 
and  then  he  would  have  reasonable  assurance  that  ^by 
the  time  he  had  got  fairly  to  work  making  fruitless  and 
costly  assaults  upon  the  enemy's  strong  works,  Buckner's 
Corps  would  come  down  from  East  Tennessee  and  jump 
on  his  back. 

A  troublesome  thing  about  war  is  that  you  can't  always 
make  your  enemy  conform  his  actions  to  your  plan  of 
operations  so  as  to  insure  your  own  success;  and  you  are 
compelled  to  act  upon  the  supposition  that  instead  of  as- 
sisting to  further  your  wishes  he  will  be  apt  to  do  pre- 
cisely what  you  don't  want  him  to  do,  and  to  leave  un- 
done those  things  which  you  would  like  to  have  him  to 


236  god's  war. 

do,  because  there  is  no  health  in  him  so  far  as  you  are 
concerned.  The  man  who  goes  to  war  with  an  impression 
the  reverse  of  this  will  get  left;  if  it  is  proper  to  drop 
into  the  vernacular  just  here. 

Adopting  the  second  plan,  Eosecrans  would  have  to 
push  his  army  over  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  cross  the 
river  near  Stevenson,  and  then  push  again  over  Sand  (or 
Eaccoon)  and  Lookout  Mountains.  These  twins  stretch 
their  huge  proportions  (each  twenty-two  hundred  fee'i 
above  tidewater  and  from  thirty  to  fifty  miles  long)  in  a 
southwesterlj'  direction  from  Chattanooga,  the  former 
being,  as  I  have  said,  about  three  miles  from  that  city, 
and  the  latter  perhaps  five  miles  farther  to  the  west,  but 
both,  on  the  north,  pushing  their  noses  so  near  to  the 
river  as  to  leave  barely  room  for  the  railroad  from  the 
west  to  creep  around  on  the  banks.  Once  over  these 
obstructions,  however,  Rosecrans  could  strike  Bragg 's 
communications  with  the  soutli  and  effectually  cut  off 
his  supplies,  leaving  him  no  resource,  as  he  could  not  go 
into  East  Tennessee  because  Burnside  there  commanded 
a  Union  army  of  no  mean  size. 

At  best  it  was  a  choice  of  difficulties,  involving,  which- 
ever way  ho  might  go,  hazards  and  obstacles  not  to  be 
lightly  thought  of.  This  was  made  doubly  impressive 
by  the  fact  that  he  was  advancing  unsupported,  or 
practically  without  support,  into  a  part  of  the  enemy's 
country  where  it  would  be  easy  to  concentrate  a  great 
army  against  him.  Speaking  generally,  his  line  would 
face  the  east.  On  the  south  not  a  bluecoat  could  be 
found  short  of  the  coast,  hundreds  of  miles  distant;  on 
the  north  was  Burnside,  but  with  Buckner  in  his  front 
and  giving  him  all  the  work  he  could  do  with  the  force 
at  his  command.  At  best  he  would  have  to  plunge  boldly 
into  the  enemy's  country,  cutting  loose  from  his  base  and 
putting  it  away  from  him  behind  almost  impassable 
mountains  and  a  broad,  deep,  swift  stream. 

All  these  things  Rosecrans  saw,  and  laying  them  before 
the  authorities  at  Washington,  begged  for  them  to  order 
some  diversion  somewhere  to  at  least  keep  the  whole  Con- 
federate Army  from  i)Ouring  in  upon  him,  if  they  would 
not  give  him  support  on  his  flanks.     But  the  authorities 


god's  war.  237 

at  Washington,  sittingin  a  high  conclave  of  bureau  gen- 
erals— fellows  who  write  books  to  tell  j'ou  how  to  build 
forts  but  don't  know  how  to  take  them,  and  other  wise 
men  who  reduce  the  whole  art  and  science  of  war  to  three 
volumes,  but  never  to  practice — these  ardent  patriots  in 
utter  and  inexcusable  and  willful  ignorance  of  perils  and 
hazards  involved  while  they  refused  the  assistance  so  ur- 
gently implored,  spent  thousands  of  dollars  of  government 
money  in  exhorting  an  already  willing  soldier  to  go 
forth  to  more  than  doubtful  battle.  If  there  had  been 
fighting  anywhere  east  or  west  it  would  have  been  some 
relief;  but  the  wiseacres  would  fire  no  shot,  nor  even 
blow  a  horn,  except  to  urge  Rosecrans  on. 

At  last,  after  six  or  eight  weeks  of  stupendous  exer- 
tions, Kosecrans  got  ready  to  move;  and  as  history 
shows,  he  took  the  southern  route,  which,  if  it  seemed  the 
more  laborious,  was  by  far  the  wiser  choice. 

A  stratagem  is  an  artifice  and  an  artifice  is  a  deceitful 
thing.  Artifices  are  used  in  maneuvering  an  arm3'  in  the 
face  of  the  enemy,  in  trading  horses,  and  in  carrying  on 
commercial  enterprises.  The  soldier  who  excels  in 
strategy  is  a  great  general;  and  the  man  who  thus  excels 
in  civil  life  makes  the  most  money.  From  which  it  does 
not  by  any  means  follow  that  the  successful  horse  trader 
would  make  a  great  soldier.  There  is  in  this  an  argument 
going  to  show  that  we  may  do  evil  that  good  may  come 
of  it;  but  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  storj-;  being 
merely  a  remark  en  2^a^sant  for  the  benefit  of  whom  it 
may  concern. 

Of  course,  if  Bragg  had  known  that  Rosecrans  intended 
to  scatter  his  army  for  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  up  and 
down  Sand  and  Lookout  Mountains  he  would  have 
gathered  his  warriors  together  and,  posting  them  advan- 
tageously, would  have  fallen  upon  the  Union  forces  with 
the  view  to  annihilate  them  in  detail;  which  benevolent 
intention  would  have  been  rather  easy  of  execution  under 
the  circumstances.  In  order  to  deceive  Bragg,  therefore, 
Eosecrans  sent  a  large  part  of  Crittenden's  Corps  with 
ample  cavalry,  to  prance  up  and  down  on  the  west  side 
of  the  Tennessee  Eiver,  above  and  below  Chattanooga, 
and  opposite  that  city,  with  much  shouting  of  captains 


238  GOD*S  WAR. 

and  neighing  of  horses  and  the  occasional  firing  of  great 
guns,  as  if  the  very  devil  were  to  pay,  without  defalca- 
tion and  notice  waived.  And  General  Bragg  was  de- 
ceived thereby,  as  he  ought  not  to  have  been;  and,  with 
his  men  in  gray,  he  braced  himself  and  held  his  breath 
to  resist  an  attack  from  the  thin  line  of  uproarious  fel- 
lows just  across  the  river. 

For,  while  it  is  tolerably  safe,  in  war,  to  assume  that 
your  enemy  is  not  about  to  do  that  which  he  seems  to  be 
about  to  do,  but  on  the  contrary  is  proceeding  at  the 
very  moment  to  do  something  else  and  quite  different, 
yet  it  is  perplexing  at  times  to  be  sure  as  to  the  thing; 
and  the  wear  and  tear  on  a  man's  mind  under  such  cir- 
cumstances is  something  prodigious.  This  makes  it 
clear  why  it  is  that  the  man  who  loves  his  ease  and  safety 
and  the  solid  and  liquid  comforts  of  life,  and  to  sleep 
well  in  his  bed  o'  nights,  is  not  ambitious  for  a  warrior's 
life,  and  when  got  into  it  does  not  make  the  best  soldier. 

So  that,  to  make  a  long  story  short,  while  Bragg's  eyes 
were  bulging  out  at  the  fellows  across  the  river,  and  he 
was  spitting  on  his  hands  in  order  that  he  might  fight 
the  better  when  the  time  should  come,  Rosecrans  had  put 
the  bulk  of  his  army  across  the  river  and  the  mountains 
and  was  dashing  eastward  for  Dalton  and  Lafayette,  and 
even  south  toward  Eome,  to  cut  off  Bragg's  communi- 
cations. 

A  few  of  the  Union  troops  crossed  on  the  partially 
burned  railroad  bridge  at  Bridgeport,  so  soon  as  it  could" 
be  put  in  tolerable  repair;  others  crossed  at  Shellmound 
in  boats  which  they  gathered  up  here  and  there  along 
the  river;  at  the  mouth  of  Battle  Creek,  the  resolute  fel- 
lows constructed  rafts  and  piled  guns  and  ammunition 
thereon,  which,  swimming,  they  pushed  across;  but  the 
pontoon  bridge  south  of  Stevenson,  at  Caperton's  Ferry 
gave  passage  to  the  bulk  of  the  army. 

On  crossing,  McCook  was  sent  with  his  corps  twenty- 
five  miles  south,  through  Will's  Valley,  between  Sand  (or 
Raccoon)  and  Lookout  Mountains,  traversing  the  entire 
length  of  the  latter;  Thomas  was  pushed  with  his  corps 
across  the  mountains  to  a  point  in  McLemore's  Cove,  six 
miles  west  of  Lafayette,  and  confronting  Dug  Gap,  in 


GOD'S  WAR.  239 

the  Pigeon  Mountains;  while  that  part  of  Crittenden's 
Corps  which  was  not  devoting  itself  to  the  entertainment 
of  Bragg  in  the  neighborhood  of  Chattanooga,  followed 
the  line  of  the  railroad  up  to  the  base  of  Lookout  over- 
looking the  city. 

The  movement  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  was  be- 
gun properly  on  the  1st  of  September;  on  the  8th  the 
troops  had  been  disposed  as  I  have  described,  and  on  the 
7th  Bragg  realized  that  he  had  been  outwitted  and  that 
his  real  danger  lay  behind  him ;  for  on  the  night  of  the 
8th  it  was  discovered  that  he  had  evacuated  Chattanooga, 
and  the  next  morning  Crittenden  marched  in  and  took 
possession. 

This  is,  perhaps,  not  the  only  instance  in  which  one 
man  has  gotten  ahead  of  another  by  simply  getting  be-> 
hind  him.  It  is  questionable  whether,  in  human  experi-> 
ence,  this  has  ever  at  any  time  been  a  paradox,  although 
it  sounds  like  one. 

But  here  it  was  that  Rosecrans  lost  his  head,  as  com- 
pletely through  this  easy  success  by  which  Chattanooga 
fell  into  his  hands  as  he  did  eleven  days  later  when  dis- 
aster to  his  right  wing  sent  him,  demoralized,  back  to 
Chattanooga  from  the  lield  of  Chickamauga,  to  prepare 
to  retreat  across  the  Tennessee  Eiver  without  waiting  to 
properly  inform  himself  as  to  the  true  condition  of 
affairs  or  to  make  a  proper  effort  to  rally  his  troops. 

He  started  out  from  Stevenson  to  take  Chattanooga, 
and  by  a  most  brilliant  strategy  had  taken  the  place  with 
scarcely  the  loss  of  a  man  or  the  burning  of  a  cartridge. 

Bragg  had  whipped  out  of  Chattanooga  as  expeditiously 
as  he  had  vacated  Shelby  ville  and  Tullahoma,  or  MurfreeS' 
boro  after  Miller's  charge  across  Stone  Eiver,  on  the  2(> 
of  January.  The  town  fell  into  Crittenden's  hands  with- 
out the  firing  of  a  gun. 

McCook's  corps  was  a  good  two  or  an  easy  three  days' 
march  from  Chattanooga;  Thomas'  could  have  reached 
the  town  in  twenty  hours;  Crittenden's  and  Gordon 
Granger's  (the  reserve  corps)  were  in  and  around  the 
town,  and  Bragg  was  at  Lafayette,  thirty  miles  away  from 
it,  confronted  by  Thomas.  A  day  and  a  night — even  less 
time — would  have  brought  McCook  up  to  Thomas,  and 


240  god's  war. 

another  day  and  night  would  have  massed  the  whole  army 
in  the  fortifications  around  the  town,  which  Bragg  had 
been  at  such  pains  to  construct. 

Why,  then,  did  not  Rosecrans  at  once  enter  the  town, 
make  himself  secure  and  set  about  perfecting  his  line  of 
communication  (the  railroad)  to  Bridgeport  and  Steven- 
son, his  base  of  supplies? — the  two  towns  are  so  near  to- 
gether that  they  may  be  lumped  as  one  so  far  as  this  pur- 
pose is  concerned.  General  Thomas  urged  Rosecrans  to 
do  this.  The  objective  was  gained,  and  it  certainly 
seemed  madness  itself  to  think  of  going  still  further 
south,  stretching  the  long  line  of  communication  to  still 
greater  attenuation,  through  a  country  so  rough  and 
mountainous  that  it  might  properly  be  called  impassable 
and  so  poor  that  it  would  not  afford  subsistence  and 
forage  for  his  army  for  a  day,  even  if  it  had  not  been 
swept  over  and  drained  of  its  supplies  by  Bragg. 

There  was  another  thing  that  ought  to  have  struck 
Rosecrans  with  great  force;  and  that  was  that  while  his 
three  great  corps  were  separated  widely,  his  enemy  had 
adroitly  slipped  down  to  a  point  opposite  the  center  of 
the  line  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,  where  he  lay 
with  his  whole  army  in  hand,  six  miles  from  Thomas  and 
fifteen  from  McCook,  in  shape  to  strike  the  former  and 
crush  him  before  McCook  could  come  up  to  his  assistance 
and  in  ample  time  to  turn  and  rend  the  latter  also.  But 
so  far  was  Rosecrans  from  seeing  this,  if  he  has  not  been 
wvongb'iudged,  that  instead  of  uniting  his  great  divisions 
he  kept  McCook  in  his  dangerous  isolation  while  he  was 
urging  Thomas  to  rush  into  the  swarming  hosts  of  the 
enemy  at  Lafayette,  and  crowned  all  by  bringing  Crit- 
tenden down  from  Chattanooga  to  a  point  within  ten 
miles  of  Bragg,  but  at  least  fifteen  from  Thomas  and  thirty 
from  McCook,  as  if  to  multipl.y  the  chances  in  favor  of 
his  enemy. 

Meantime  Bragg  had  been  reinforced  by  fifteen  thou- 
sand troops  from  Mississippi  under  Johnston,  and  by 
Buckner  from  East  Tennessee  with  at  least  ten  thousand 
more. 

The  fact  is  that  Rosecrans  had  jumped  to  the  conclusion 
that  Bragg  had  become  panic-stricken  and  was  running 


GOD'S  WAR.  241 

away  from  him,  pellmell.  He  therefore  gave  instant 
orders  for  pursuit,  and  in  this  -view,  it  is  fair  to  say,  he 
was  sustained  by  the  -wiseacres  at  Washington,  who  not 
only  telegraphed  him  frequently  to  proceed  with  his 
campaign,  as  if  he  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  pursue 
Bragg,  and  need  not  concern  himself  at  all  about  Chatta- 
nooga or  the  line  over  which  his  supplies  must  come, 
but  pooh-poohed  his  apprehensions  that  troops  would  be 
sent  from  Virginia  to  reinforce  his  enemy;  even  going  to 
the  length  of  dispatching  him  an  idle  rumor  that,  on  the 
contrary,  Bragg  was  reinforcing  Lee!  "Were  they  satiri- 
cal, or  simply  idiotic? 

There  is  much,  however,  to  be  said  in  extenuation  of 
the  mistake  made  by  Rosecrans  at  Chickamauga.  He 
ought  not  to  be  blamed  too  severely  because  his  remark- 
able success  at  Shelbyville  and  TuUahoma,  crowned  by 
the  new  triumph  by  which  Chattanooga  fell  into  his 
hands,  had  elated  him  so  much  that  he  became  over- 
sanguine.  It  takes  a  stronger  head  to  withstand  a  tre- 
mendous run  of  prosperity,  than  it  does  to  keep  steady 
before  adversity.  Especially  is  this  so  if  the  lucky  man 
thinks  and  has  reason  to  think  that  his  prosperity  is  in 
large  measure  due  to  the  exercise  of  his  own  sagacity. 
If  Eosecrans  got  the  notion  into  his  head  that  Bragg  had 
grown  to  be  afraid  of  him  and  would  never  attempt  to 
stand  up  against  him,  we  can  look  upon  the  fact  with 
some  charity,  however  much  we  may  blame  him. 

But  there  is  another  reason  why  Eosecrans  is  entitled 
to  liberal  allowance  in  this  matter;  and  that  lies  in  the 
fact  that  he  was  bothered  and  worried  and  annoyed,  as 
was  nearly  everj^  general  who  ever  had  a  so-called  in- 
dependent command  in  the  field,  by  the  intermeddling 
of  the  old  grannies  at  Washington  who  assumed,  with  the 
impudence  of  charlatanism,  that  they,  at  the  capital  city 
many  hundreds  of  miles  away  and  with  no  information 
save  that  which  they  got  from  the  commanders  them- 
selves and  from  the  wonderfully  imperfect  maps  of  the 
day  (only  equalled  for  bewildering  and  misleading 
qualities  by  the  war-maps  that  have  since  been  published 
in  war  histories),  could  judge  better  than  the  man  in  the 
field  and  dealing  with  the  facts,  when  and  how  he  ought 


242  god's  war. 

to  move  his  troops  and  where  he  ought  to  force  his  enemy 
to  join  issue  of  battle.  It  is  perfectly  easy  with  a  map 
before  us  to  cross  a  mountain  range  in  the  mere  lifting 
of  an  eyelash,  and  to  traverse  a  hundred  miles  of  plain 
with  a  twirl  of  the  thumb-nail ;  but  to  the  general  in  the 
field  at  the  head  of  a  large  army  and  confronted  by  a 
wily  opponent  also  equipped  with  a  large  and  well-armed 
force,  the  crossing  of  a  mountain  range  with  horse,  foot, 
and  artillery,  trains  filled  with  supplies  and  equipage, 
ammunition  wagons,  ambulances,  and  hospital  stores  is 
not  done  Avith  a  "he.v  presto!"  nor  do  you  force  your  way 
through  the  hostile  plain  with  the  speed  of  thought  by 
any  sort  of  prestidigitatorial  jugglery. 

Which  suggests,  that  while  we  are  measuring  up  the 
generals  of  the  late  war,  we  should  not  forget  this  truth ; 
and  that  we  should  go  deliberately  enough  about  it  to 
recall  the  real  obstacles  that  they  had  to  contend  with. 

So,  these  Washington  people,  all  save  the  president 
himself,  who  was  great  enough  to  know  that  he  did  not 
know  everything,  in  the  intervals  of  airing  their  grandeur 
on  foaming  steeds  and  roaring  at  headquarters'  orderlies 
and  attending  receptions  and  blufling  newspaper  reporters, 
and  sacrificing  themselves  at  champagne  suppers  and 
foreign  legation  balls,  had  found  time  to  telegraph  all 
manner  of  orders  to  Eosecrans  about  what  he  ought  to 
do,  till  unquestionably  the  matter  of  dealing  with  them 
was  a  great  deal  more  vexatious  to  him  than  was  the 
question  presented  by  the  hostile  force  in  his  front. 

During  the  time  that  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  lay 
at  Murfreesboro,  before  it  moved  on  to  Shelbyville,  the 
distinguished  person  who  was  then  general-in-chief,  hav- 
ing been  taken  to  Washington  and  elevated  to  that  high 
place,  because  it  is  fair  to  presume  he  had  clearly  demon- 
strated that  he  was  good-for-nothing  in  the  field,  sent 
his  telegrams  urging  and  commanding  the  forward  move- 
ment of  the  army  so  frequently,  and  at  last  in  terms  so 
insulting,  that  Eosecrans,  brave  and  patriotic  as  he  was, 
and  willing  to  bear  almost  everything  for  the  sake  of  his 
country,  very  properly  lost  all  patience  and  curtly  re- 
plied,having  exhausted  all  polite  and  courteous  forms  of  ex- 
postulation that  "if  the  general-in-chief  thought  the  Army 


god's  war.  243 

of  the  Cumberland  ought  to  move  at  once  he  had  better 
come  out  to  Murfreesboro  and  move  it  himself!" 

This  experience  was  repeated  at  Stevenson;  from  the 
moment  that  Tullahoma  fell  and  before  the  long  line  of 
railroad  could  be  patched  up  so  as  to  get  supplies  down 
to  the  new  base,  Washington  began  a  running  fire  of  tele- 
grams demanding  an  immediate  advance,  and  culminat- 
ing early  in  August  in  the  following : 

"Washington,  August  5,  1863. 
"The  orders  for  the  advance  of  your  army,  and  that  its 
progress  be  reported  daily,  are  peremptory." 

This  was  signed  by  the  then  general-in-chief  who  un- 
fortunately is  now  dead  and  escaped  from  the  punish- 
ment he  deserved  for  his  extra-officious  zeal  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  salary  he  was  getting;  which  amounted  to 
nothing  more  useful  than  the  embarrassment  of  the 
generals  in  the  field  who  were  doiug  their  best. 

Under  the  sting  of  this  sort  of  a  lash  is  it  any  wonder 
when  Eosecrans  got  started,  even  imperfectly  prepared 
as  he  was,  that  he  should  jump  clear  through  his  collar? 

We  have  seen  that  his  movement  was  fairly  begun  on 
the  1st  of  September;  and  yet,  with  that  delay,  he  had 
only  been  able  to  collect  supplies  enough  to  last  his  army 
for  twenty-five  days. 

On  the  11th  of  September,  at  the  moment  that  Bragg, 
reinforced  by  Buckner  and  Johnston,  had  with  his  entire 
army  surrounded  Thomas  in  McLemore's  Cove,  the  Wash- 
ington authorities  telegraphed  Eosecrans : 

"After  holding  the  mountain  passes  on  the  west,  and 
Dalton  or  some  other  point  on  the  railroad,  to  prevent 
the  return  of  Bi-agg's  army,  it  will  be  decided  whether 
your  army  shall  move  further  into  Georgia  and  Alabama. 
It  is  reported  by  deserters  that  a  portion  of  Bragg 's 
army  is  reinforcing  Lee.  It  is  important  that  the  truth 
of  this  should  be  ascertained  as  early  as  possible." 

Certainly ! 

And  having  finished  this  dispatch  it  is  fair  to  presume 


244  god's  war. 

that  this  long-range  warrior  joined  his  brave  civilian 
confrere  in  the  next  room;  and  that  the  two  together 
then  refreshed  their  noble  souls  by  brow-beating  and 
bullying  a  wounded  soldier  who  wanted  an  extension  of  his 
leave  of  absence,  or  a  weeping  woman  who  wanted  per- 
mission to  visit  a  hospital  to  nurse  her  dyiug  husband. 

Thank  Heaven,  there  were  no  such  fellows  among  the 
fighting  men  at  the  front! 

Between  the  lines  the  dispatch  said:  "You  see;  it  is 
as  we  told  you  it  would  be!  There  are  so  few  Confed- 
erates before  you  and  they  are  so  cowardly,  that  all  you 
have  to  do  is  to  beat  your  drums  and  they  will  run  like 
sheep!  What  few  there  are,  are  coming  East.  Never 
mind  about  the  future!  After  you  have  carried  out  pres- 
ent iustructious  we  will  find  a  new  parade  ground  for 
you  to  play  at  war  in!" 

When  Buckner  and  Johnston  joined  Bragg  the  Confed- 
erate Army  in  Northern  Georgia  was  as  large  as  the  Union 
Army  under  Rosecrans.  The  latter  was  scattered  over  a 
line  forty  miles  long,  each  corps  isolated;  while  the 
former  was  united  and  compact  opposite  the  center  of  the 
Union  line.  It  seems  impossible  that  Eosecrans  should 
have  been  blind  to  the  terrible  significance  of  the  situa- 
tion. He  knew  what  that  situation  was  on  the  night  of 
the  9th  or  the  morning  of  the  10th,  and  yet  we  find  him 
taking  no  positive  steps  to  concentrate  his  army  till  the 
12th.  Was  he  really  blind  to  that  significance,  or  in- 
sanely determined  not  to  acknowledge  his  mistake,  but 
to  risk  all  that  threatened  him? 

All  that  Bragg  had  to  do  was  to  remember  how  Napoleon 
had  taught  the  world  to  fight,  and  to  throw  his  whole 
army  first  upon  Thomas  till  he  had  crushed  him,  and 
then  turn  at  his  leisure  upon  McCook  fifteen  miles  away 
or  Crittenden,  who  would  be  then  at  about  the  same  dis- 
tance. He  could  upon  this  plan  have  wiped  the  Army  of 
the  Cumberland  out  of  existence  with  but  little  effort 
and  without  the  slightest  danger  of  failure,  and  have  put 
such  an  aspect  upon  the  politics  of  North  America  as 
would  have  filled  the  heart  of  the  hater  of  free  institu- 
tions with  joy. 

And  when,  on  the  9th  of  September,  Thomas'  Corps, 


GOD'S   WAR.  245 

led  by  Negley's  division,  debouched  into  McLemore's 
Cove,  he  showed  that  he  was  not  blind  to  his  great  op- 
portunity. He  tried  to  crush  Thomas,  but  the  skill  of 
that  commander,  and  the  inexplicable  dilatoriness  of 
some  of  the  rebel  generals,  alone  averted  that  disaster. 


246  GOD'S  WAR. 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

CAUTIOUS     BLUNDERING. 

Neqley's  division  crossed  Lookout  Mountain  at 
Stevens'  Gap,  about  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  south  of 
Chattanooga,  on  the  9th,  the  daj'  that  Crittenden  entered 
the  city.  Baird's  division  a  day  later  followed  Negley's. 
Under  previous  orders  these  divisions  pushed  due  east 
with  Lafayette,  perhaps  ten  miles  distant,  as  their  objec- 
tive, where  they  were  to  take  Bragg  in  the  flank  and  with 
Crittenden  to  fall  upon  his  rear,  and  destroy  him.  Mc- 
Cook,  twenty  miles  further  south,  at  or  near  Alpine,  was 
to  hold  himself  in  readiness  to  meet  the  enemy  should  he 
escape  Crittenden  and  Thomas. 

After  advancing  about  four  miles  against  sharp  but  not 
formidable  opposition,  Negley  found  his  further  progress 
barred  by  impediments  in  Dug  Gap,  through  which  he 
must  pass  to  get  to  Lafayette.  Trees  had  been  felled  so 
as  to  make  the  Gap  impassable;  and  a  light  force  of  Con- 
federates was  sufficient  to  hold  him  at  bay.  During  the 
night  Bragg  gave  orders  to  send  a  large  force  out  to  cap- 
ture or  annihilate  Negley;  the  obstructions  in  Dug  Gap 
and  Catlett's  Gap,  a  little  further  to  the  north,  were  re- 
moved, and  on  the  morning  of  the  10th  the  rebel  troops 
poured  through  these  passes,  covering  Negley's  front 
and  swinging  around  on  his  flanks.  At  8  o'clock  on 
the  10th  Baird  joined  Negley,  forming  on  the  left  of  the 
latter.  A  misunderstanding  among  Bragg 's  generals  oc- 
casioned a  delay  by  which  the  day  was  spent  without  im- 
portant results,  although  the  Confederate  commander  had 
ordered  an  immediate  attack.  Postponing,  therefore, 
his  movement  till  the  nest  day,  he  ordered  up  fresh  troops 
to  insure  success,  and  when  day  broke  on  the  11th  Neg- 


god's  war.  247 

ley  and  Baird  were  surrounded  front,  right,  and  left  by 
thirty  thousand  Confederate  troops  eager  for  the  fray  and 
under  orders  to  begin  it  at  once.  Fortunately  these  two 
commaudars  realized  their  danger  before  the  enemy 
gained  their  rear,  and  a  retreat,  masterlyand  in  every  way 
admirable,  brought  them  with  their  trains  and  supplies 
back  to  the  mountain  by  dark.  Here  during  the  night 
they  were  joined  by  Thomas  himself  with  his  two  re- 
maining divisions,  and  the  corps  was  put  into  such  strong 
defensive  position  that  the  enemy  gave  up  the  enterprise 
and  turned  to  seek  an  easier  conquest. 

On  the  morning  of  the  10th  General  Negley  caused  in- 
formation to  be  sent  to  General  Kosecrans  showing  that 
he  had  met  the  enemy  in  force;  the  same  day  Crittenden's 
advance  moving  south  from  Chattanooga  was  met  and 
successfully  resisted  by  Bragg 's  troops  near  Lee  and 
Gordon's  mills,  twelve  miles  from  the  point  in  the  cove 
where  Thomas'  advance  lay.  In  every  direction  from 
which  Lafayette  was  approached  Bragg  showed  his  teeth 
and  held  his  pursuers  at  bay.  Notwithstanding  this, 
Kosecrans  issued  orders  during  the  night  of  the  10th  to 
Crittenden,  directing  him  to  leave  a  brigade  to  reconnoiter 
toward  Lee  and  Gordon's  mills,  while  with  the  rest  of  his 
corps  he  should  march  on  to  Kinggold,  a  point  at  least 
twenty  miles  east  of  north  of  Lafayette  and  about  the 
same  distance  from  Thomas  and  fully  fifty  miles  from 
McCook! 

He  still  believed  that  Bragg  was  in  full  retreat,  and  at 
10  o'clock  of  the  night  of  the  10th  he  ordered  Thomas  to 
"open  direct  communication  with  McCook  at  once,"  and 
added:  "It  is  important  to  know  whether  he  (the  enemy) 
retreats  on  Rome  or  Cedar  Bluff."  Twice  during  that 
night  he  urged  upon  Thomas  the  importance  of  his  push- 
ing on  to  attack  the  enemy  at  Lafayette;  that  is,  to  move 
with  his  one  corps  unsupported  and  in  air,  straight  into 
the  heart  of  Bragg's  great  army,  outnumbering  him  three 
to  one!  At  9:45  p.m.  he  says:  "He  (the  general  com- 
manding) is  disappointed  to  learn  that  his  (Negley's) 
forces  move  to-morrow  morning  instead  of  having  moved 
this  morning  as  they  should  have  done,  this  delay  im- 
perilling both  extremes  of  the  army. 


j>48  god's  war. 

"Your  movement  on  Lafayette  should  be  made  with  the 
utmost  promptness. 

"Your  advance  ought  to  have  threatened  Lafayette 
yesterday  evening." 

At  10  P.M.  he  says:  "Much  depends  upon  the  prompti- 
tude of  your  movements." 

But  Thomas  was  not  to  be  pushed  into  the  rash  adven- 
ture, for  he  knew  the  perils  before  him  and  could  not 
imagine  Bragg  such  a  fool  as  not  to  try  to  take  advantage 
of  the  fatuity  which  kept  the  Union  forces  so  widely  sep- 
arated. It  was  another  case  where  Thomas  was  chided 
for  "delay"  when  he  was  simply  saving  the  whole  army 
by  his  wise  deliberation. 

On  the  11th  Eosecrans  either  gets  some  glimmering  of 
the  true  state  of  affairs  or  else  at  last  wins  his  own  con- 
sent to  the  admission  that  Bragg  is,  after  all,  not  such  a 
poltroon  as  to  ruu  away  with  an  army  of  between  fifty 
and  sixty  thousand  men,  well  in  hand,  from  an  equal 
number  of  men  widely  scattered  from  Chattanooga  and 
Einggold  to  Alpine.  He  orders  Crittenden  to  come  in 
toward  Gordon's  mills  that  night;  but  even  so  late  as 
11:15  A.M.  the  next  day  (the  12th),  he  writes  to  Thomas 
that  "Crittenden  was  probably  at  Gordon's  mills  by  10 
o'clock  to-day;"  then  he  adds  that  he  "is  induced  to 
think  that  General  Negley  withdrew  more  through  pru- 
dence than  compulsion"  the  night  before,  from  a  force  of 
thirty  thousand  who  had  surrounded  him  and  Baird  in 
front  of  Dag  Gap!  He  concludes  his  dispatch  by  saying 
that  Crittenden's  Corps  "will  attack  the  enemy  as  soon  as 
it  can  be  gotten  in  position.  When  a  battle  does  begin, 
it  is  desirable  that  every  command  should  do  its  best, 
and  push  hard,  using  the  bayonet  wherever  possible." 

And  the  order  which  is  to  bring  up  McCook,  who  is 
lying  forty-two  miles  from  Chattanooga  (where  the 
above  dispatch  is  dated),  sending  out  reconnoitering 
parties  toward  Rome,  is  not  to  go  for  some  hours  yet! 

The  blundering  of  Bragg  and  his  generals  had  so  far 
operated  in  favor  of  Eosecrans,  and  backed  by  Thomas' 
resolute  refusal  to  enter  the  trap  at  Dug  Gap,  indisputably 
was  the  salvation  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  up  to 
that  time. 


god's  war.  249 

And  still  there  was  time  to  save  it,  and  avert  a  battle 
on  ground  of  the  enemy's  choice  under  most  disadvan- 
tageous circumstances,  with  a  broken-up  railroad  and 
forty  miles  of  mountains  between  the  army  and  its  base 
of  supplies,  and  with  only  six  or  eight  days'  rations  in  the 
wagons  and  the  men's  haversacks.  As  General  Thomas 
pointed  out,  there  was  still  time  to  reach  the  intrench- 
ments  at  Chattanooga.  But  while  Rosecrans  refused  to 
think  of  such  a  thing,  he  did  begin  to  realize  his  danger; 
for,  as  he  states  in  his  official  report,  it  then  became  ap- 
parent to  him  that  it  was  "a  matter  of  life  and  death  to 
effect  the  concentration  of  the  army." 

The  night  of  the  11th  found  McCook  still  at  Alpine, 
his  orders  not  permitting  him  to  move  till  Bragg's  routed 
army  should  come  within  his  reach ;  Thomas  twenty 
miles  north  of  McCook  still  formed,  with  Lookout  Moun- 
tain to  protect  his  rear,  faciug  Bragg's  whole  army,  while 
Crittenden  with  the  bulk  of  his  corps  was  at  Einggold, 
twenty  miles  northeast  of  the  Fourteenth  Corps  (Thomas' 
command),  pushing  for  Dalton,  some  of  his  troops  having 
already  advanced  fifteen  miles  at  least  in  a  southeasterly 
direction  from  Einggold,  every  step  carrying  them  just 
that  much  further  away  from  their  comrades  on  the  west. 
If  Crittenden  had  been  permitted  to  pioceed,  and  there 
was  nothing  so  far  in  his  orders  to  prevent,  he  would  in 
eight  hours'  time  have  left  the  rest  of  the  Union  Army 
fully  three  da3's'  march  to  the  westward,  with  Bragg's 
army  between  him  and  them.  He  had  passed  Bragg's 
right  flank  and  was  actually  marching  away  from  both 
armies. 

But  Crittenden's  order  to  return  reached  him  during 
the  night  of  the  11th;  by  which  time  Bragg  had  con- 
cluded that  to  attack  Thomas  in  his  strong  position  would 
have  involved  only  a  useless  loss  of  life  and  ammunition, 
so  well  had  Thomas  chosen  his  ground  and  posted  his 
troops  for  defense. 

Foiled  here,  the  rebel  general  turned  to  assail  Crit- 
tenden, as  nest  to  whipping  Thomas,  being  the  best 
thing  to  do;  and,  simultaneously,  in  obedience  to  the 
orders  he  had  received,  Crittenden  started  down  from 
Kinggold  on  the  12th  to  meet   him.     For  while  Crit- 


250  GOD'S  WAR. 

tenden  was  withdrawing  from  Kinggold,  Bragc  was  put- 
ting his  army  in  motion  to  wipe  him  off  the  earth.  He 
ordered  Polk  with  his  corps,  supported  by  Buckner's 
Corps,  to  this  duty;  but  for  some  unexplained  reason  the 
orders  failed  of  execution  and  by  the  13th  Crittenden  had 
returned  to  his  place  near  Lee  and  Gordon's  mills  and 
within  supporting  distance  of  Thomas. 

Even  then  Bragg  might  have  whipped  Crittenden;  but 
he  made  no  move;  he  sat  him  down  along  the  Chicka- 
mauga,  having  concentrated  his  forces,  and  went  into  the 
business  of  "threatening  the  enemy  in  front,"  as  he 
states  in  his  official  report.  And  he  pursued  this  indus- 
try with  such  remarkable  assiduity  for  the  next  five  or 
six  days  that  Eosecraus  was  enabled  to  reunite  the  Arm3' 
of  the  Cumberland;  and  it  was  only  after  Eosecrans  had 
succeeded  in  doing  this  that  it  seemed  to  occur  to  Bragg 
all  at  once  that  he  might  profitably  go  out  of  the  "threat- 
ening" line  and  try  something  else  for  a  change. 
Whether  the  knowledge  that  Longstreet  was  coming  with 
a  corps  to  reinforce  him  had  anj'thing  to  do  with  this 
swift  resolution  is  not  clear;  but  it  probably  had. 

Bj'  the  morning  of  the  14th,  McCook  had  gotten  two 
of  his  divisions  en  route  to  support  Thomas,  his  order  to 
do  so  having  been  received  the  night  before.  Thomas 
remained  in  McLemore's  Cove  till  the  17th,  moving  up 
each  day  slowly  and  cautiously  nearer  and  nearer  to  Crit- 
tenden, till  on  the  evening  of  the  18th  his  head  of  column 
reached  Crawfish  Springs,  a  mile  or  two  from  Lee  and 
Gordon's  mills.  McCook  hy  this  time  had  reached  Mc- 
Lemore's Cove,  and  was  following  Thomas  up,  within 
close  supporting  distance. 

During  the  18th  it  was  discovered  that  Bragg  had  be- 
gun to  move  his  army  along  the  east  bank  of  the  Chicka- 
mauga  (the  Union  army  being  on  the  west  bank)  north- 
ward, and  that  unless  something  was  done  he  would 
speedily  be  on  Crittenden's  flank  and  get  possession  of 
the  roads  communicating  with  Chattanooga.  To  meet 
this,  Thomas,  on  reaching  Crawfish  Springs,  was  sent  on; 
and  making  a  night  march  he  reached  Kelley's  farm,  the 
scene  of  the  first  day's  battle,  by  daylight  of  the  19th. 
His  corps  thus  became  the  left  wing  of  Eosecraus'  army. 


god's  war.  351 

Of  all  the  unlucky  generals  that  ever  were  heard  of  in 
history  Bragg  seems  to  have  been  the  most  unfortunate  iu 
the  matter  of  not  having  his  orders  carried  out,  or  indeed 
executed  at  all.  The  rule  seemed  to  be  reversed  with  his 
subordinates,  and  they  evidently  looked  upon  an  order 
from  him  as  chiefly  of  value  because  the  thing  which  it 
indicated  was  the  thing  which  they  were  not  to  do. 
Whatever  they  might  do,  they  were  clearly  not  to  do 
what  he  ordered.  The  cheerful  alacrity  with  which  they 
flew  to  disregard  his  orders,  repeated  for  two  days,  to 
attack  Thomas  in  McLemore's  Cove,  was  admirable. 
And  in  failing  to  obey  him  they  gave  Thomas  time  to 
take  a  position  where  he  could  have  whipped  them  during 
a  week's  fighting.  So  at  Chickamauga;  Bragg  first 
ordered  Polk  and  Buckner  (on  the  12th)  to  crush  Crit- 
tenden, which  they  might  have  easily  done,  but  which 
they  calmly  proceeded  not  to  do.  If  he  had  not  ordered 
it,  or  had  told  them  not  to  attack  Crittenden,  the  chances 
are  that  they  would  have  wiped  the  Twenty-first  Corps 
from  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  Then  again  on  the  17th 
he  ordered  an  attack  on  Crittenden  to  be  made  on  the 
following  day.  In  accordance  with  precedents  the  order 
was  not  obej'ed,  and  Thomas  and  McCook  were  given 
time,  and  just  enough  time,  to  close  up;  and  then 
Bragg  was  confronted  by  a  very  weary  army ;  but  as 
savage  and  ugly  as  only  a  tired  army  can  be,  aud  conse- 
quently not  the  best  army  in  the  world  to  engage,  as  he 
found,  on  the  19th.  If  Bragg's  orders — any  one  of  them 
above  referred  to — had  been  executed,  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland  would  have  been  annihilated,  or  brought  so 
near  to  complete  destruction  that  it  could  never  have 
survived.  The  same  result  would  have  been  attained  if, 
instead  of  "threatening,"  Bragg  had  proceeded  to  engage 
Crittenden  any  time  between  the  13th  and  the  18th ;  al- 
though Thomas'  careful  and  skillful  advances  day  by  day, 
lessened  his  chances  of  success,  while  they  were  not 
completely  destroyed  till  McCook  came  up. 

If  Rosecraus  had  chosen,  he  could  have  moved  on  into 
Chattanooga  with  his  whole  force  on  the  night  of  the 
18th,  with  a  very  slight  loss.  The  roads  were  open  to 
him  and  the  enemy  was  handling  him  as  gingerly  as  a 


'»53  hod's  war. 

>voraan  does  a  horse.  But  for  the  ILirLl  time  be  refused 
to  evade  the  conflict.  Whatever  may  have  been  his  mis- 
takes and  his  weaknesses,  it  can  never  be  said  of  him  that 
he  was  unwilling  to  ticht,  under  any  circunistunces;  nor 
can  it  be  alleged  of  him  that  he  ever  failed  in  patriotic 
ardor. 

During  tlio  17th,  Hood,  leading  the  advance  of  Long- 
street's  (Jorps  with  three  brigades,  reported  for  duty  to 
Bragg,  and  was  sent  the  following  day  to  join  Buckner's 
Corps,  Cheatham's  division  and  Walker's  Corps  on  the 
west  bank  of  the  stream,  where  daylight  on  the  19th 
found  them  fronting  Thomas  and  Crittenden,  with 
strongly  posted  lines. 


god's  war.  '         263 


PART  IV. 
His  Instruments. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

THE   NINETEENTH    OF   SEPTEMBEK,    1863. 

But  if  Bragg 's  subordinates  had  been  slow  up  to  the 
morning  of  the  19th,  that  eventful  Saturdaj'  found  them 
quick  and  alert  to  obey  orders,  with  perhaps  the  solitary 
exception  of  General  Polk,  who  could  not  have  moved 
more  ponderously  or  with  more  sedate  deliberation  if  he 
had  been  proceeding  against  a  free-thinking  and  recalci- 
trant priest  in  his  diocese  in  the  important  matter  of  a 
violation  of  ecclesiastical  law,  regulating  the  color  of  his 
stole  or  the  length  or  shape  of  his  surplice. 

But  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  had  benefited  by  the 
last  but  one  of  Bragg's  misfortunes  and  blunders. 

Thomas  had  but  fairly  placed  his  troops  in  position  at 
daylight  on  Saturday,  when,  ignorant  of  the  force  in 
front  of  him  on  the  west  bank  of  the  stream  and  having 
reason  to  believe  that  an  isolated  brigade  on  the  east  side 
of  the  stream  and  cut  off  from  retreat  by  the  burning  of 
Eeed's  bridge  the  evening  before  by  Colonel  McCook, 
comprised  all  of  the  enemy's  force  in  that  immediate 
vicinity,  he  sent  Brannan  with  two  brigades  to  capture 
the  intruders,  and — that  settled  it. 

It  was  like  poking  a  stick  into  a  hornet's  nest,  only  u 
great  deal  more  so. 

The    two    brigades   went   boldly  forward,  and  in  the 


354        '  god's  war. 

striking  of  a  match  were  furiousb'  engaged ;  others  were 
sent  to  their  support  and  found  their  hands  full  of  hot 
work  without  delay;  and  then,  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
falling  upon  a  towering  tree,  came  a  swift  and  heavy  mass 
of  men  square  upon  our  left  flank,  breaking  and  crum- 
bling it  to  pieces,  and  pushing  on  ferociously  and  trium- 
phantly southward  till,  by  dint  of  throwing  divisions 
after  brigades  into  the  breach  the  onset  was  first  stayed, 
and  then  beaten  back.  Gueuther's  (Union)  battery  was 
lost  and  recaptured  in  a  few  minutes'  of  time. 

The  truth  is  that  Bragg  was  as  much  surprised  as 
Thomas.  He  had  expected  to  find  the  Union  left  some- 
where in  the  vicinity  of  Lee  and  Gordon's  mills,  but  he 
struck  it  at  least  three  miles  north  of  that  point.  He 
essayed  the  same  tactics  he  had  used  so  successfully  at 
Stone  River  on  Wednesday-,  but  he  found  the  army  at 
Chickamauga  much  better  prepared  for  him;  and  right 
there  score  one  for  Eosecrans.  There  was  good  general- 
ship in  his  disposition  of  his  army  on  Saturday  morning. 

The  ground  on  which  this  encounter  took  place  was 
densely  wooded,  with  but  few  cleared  fields  interspersed 
here  and  there,  and  they  were  small — mere  patches. 
Divisions  aligned  upon  each  other  fought  for  hours  with- 
out being  able  to  see  each  other  or  to  judge,  save  by 
sound,  what  was  going  on  to  the  right  or  left.  Nobody 
knew  intelligently  what  was  happening,  except  Thomas, 
sitting  there  on  his  horse,  quietly  stroking  his  closely 
clipped  beard  and  occasionally  biting  his  nails. 

But  it  was  enough  that  he  saw,  since  he  knew  as  no 
man  ever  knew  better,  just  what  to  do  in  such  an  emer- 
gency. If  his  pulse  beat  any  faster  because  of  this  sur- 
prise neither  his  face  nor  his  voice  betrayed  him ;  he 
drew  up  fresh  divisions  from  the  right,  one  after  the 
other,  and  put  them  in  where  they  could  do  the  most  good, 
whipped  his  enemy   and   was  calm  and    imperturbable. 

Thus,  constantly  extending  his  left  as  fresh  troops 
came  up,  he  crushed  first  Walker's  Corps  and  then  pul- 
verized Cheatham's  five  brigades  sent  from  the  reserve 
by  Bragg  to  stem  tbe  tide  of  reverse. 

Crittenden  presently  opened  up  on  the  right  and  the 
fighting  became  general  all  along  the  line.  When  the 
battle   first   opened   Thomas   and   Crittenden   were    not 


god's  war.  255 

joined,  and  the  fact  was  sou'.clit  to  be  taken  advantage  of 
by  the  enemy,  who  hurled  a  heavy  force  upon  the  weak 
point,  and  for  a  time  it  seemed  that  this  movement 
would  be  sucuesst'ul — but,  drawing  hist  from  the  right  of 
his  own  line  and  then  from  McCook,  who,  hearing  the 
hring,  was  pressing  up  rapidly,  Crittenden  made  good 
to  hold  his  own  against  tremendous  odds. 

And  this  was  the  history  of  the  day;  monotonous 
enough  in  the  telling,  but  filled  with  spendid,  valorous 
deeds  on  both  sides.  Only  once  was  the  steady  draft 
from  the  right  to  the  left  interfered  with;  and  that  was 
when  some  of  Crittenden's  men  were  overpowered  by  an 
unusually  fierce  and  heavy  onslaught,  when  Thomas 
withdrew  Brannan  and  sent  him,  like  an  eddy  against  the 
current,  to  retrieve  the  damage,  which  he  did,  and  then 
the  fighting  went  on  as  before. 

After  nightfall  Thomas  readjusted  his  line,  posting  it 
more  strongly;  apprehending  in  the  morning  a  fresh  at- 
tack upon  his  flank.  In  making  this  readjustment  he 
was  again  attacked  and  stubbornly  engaged  by  Cleburn, 
the  roar  of  the  guns  rising  up  among  the  hills  like 
crashing  peals  of  thunder,  the  burning  powder  weaving 
long  lines  of  quivering  flame  in  the  velvet  blackness  of 
the  glooming  trees. 

Further  south  Bragg  tried  to  cross  the  stream  at  several 
points;  but  McCook's  men  were  there,  too  surly  and 
prompt  to  be  trifled  with. 

The  day  thus  ended  with  a  defeat  for  Bragg.  He  had 
thrown  himself  with  ponderous  weight  upon  an  enemy 
resolute  and  vigorous  and  implacable;  and  with  the 
evening  came  the  summing  up,  which  showed  nothing 
but  the  miscarriage  of  every  move  he  had  made  and  the 
loss  of  many  brave  men. 

But  he  took  courage  and  braced  himself  for  the  mor- 
row's struggle;  for  he  had  not  been  routed  even  if  he 
had  suffered  some,  and  he  gained  new  strength  with  the 
accession  of  Longstreet  with  the  remainder  of  his  corps, 
before  midnight. 

And  while  the  two  armies  lay  within  easy  calling  diy- 
tunce  of  each  other  in  the  darkness  of  the  chilly  night, 
])reathing  softly  and  moving  noiselessly ;  while  the  living 


356  god's  war. 

cast  up  tb«  uncertain  reckoning  of  the  morrow — 
for  there  was  nothing  certain  about  it  all  save  its  pallid 
uncertainties — while  the  dead  lay  in  grotesque  and  hor- 
rible shapes  and  the  wounded  filled  the  dim  vaults  of  the 
forest  with  their  groans  and  sighs  and  imprecations  and 
beseeching  wails  for  water,  the  two  commanders  looked 
over  the  board,  set  their  pieces  anew,  and  planned  the 
coming  game. 

Bragg  divided  his  army  into  two  wings,  Polk  to  com- 
mand the  right  and  attack  at  daybreak;  Longstreet  to 
direct  the  left  and  to  wait  for  the  sound  of  Polk's  guns 
when  he,  too,  was  to  attack;  and  the  whole  line  was  to 
wheel  to  the  left  with  Longstreet's  left  as  the  pivot;  so 
that  Eosecrans  should  be  driven  with  each  step,  further 
and  further  away  from  Chattanooga  and  his  base  of  sup- 
plies, and  deeper  and  deeper  into  the  heart  of  a  hostile, 
inhospitable,  and  barren  country. 


god's  war.  257 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    TWENTIETH    OF    SEPTEMBER,     1863. 

During  the  night  of  the  19th,  Thomas  retired  his  com- 
mand (the  left  wing)  some  distance  to  the  rear,  giving 
it  a  position  much  stronger  than  the  one  darkness  found 
it  occupying,  while  he  brought  his  divisions  together 
into  a  closer  and  more  compact  line.  The  exigencies  of 
the  battle  of  the  19th  put  him  in  command  of  Johnson's 
division  belonging  to  McCook's  Corps  and  Palmer's  divis- 
ion of  Crittenden's  Corps,  in  addition  to  which  he  had 
Baird's,  Eeynolds'  and  Brannan's  divisions  of  his  own 
corps;  while  one  of  his  divisions,  Negley's,  had  fallen 
temporarily  under  the  command  of  McCook,  on  the  right. 
Nothing  illustrates  more  completely  the  extremity  of  the 
emergency  brought  about  by  Bragg 's  heavy  and  deter- 
mined attack  upon  the  left  of  Rosecrans'  line  on  the  19th 
than  this  mixing  up  of  troops  from  the  three  corps,  to 
meet  it.  Eosecrans  had  his  hands  full  in  directing  rein- 
forcements to  Thomas,  and  Thomas  accepted  everything 
that  could  be  sent  him,  and,  utilizing  it,  fought  a  heavy 
and  bloody  battle  all  day  long,  on  a  line  varying  from 
two  to  three  miles  in  length. 

It  has  been  well  described  as  a  battle  of  charges  and 
counter-charges. 

Eosecrans  on  Saturday,  from  his  post  of  observation  at 
the  Widow  Glen's  house — a  point  in  the  rear  of  the 
center  of  his  line  on  the  morning  of  the  19th,  or  a  little 
to  the  left  of  the  center,  but  in  the  rear  of  the  center  of 
the  right  wing  in  the  evening — had  before  him  a  line  of 
battle  six  or  seven  miles  long,  to  watch. 

I  have  often  wondered  whether  civilians — and  I  have 
heard  many  of  them  talk  learnedly  of  the  fighting  of 


258  god's  war. 

armies — can  ever  realize  what  it  is  to  direct  the  move- 
nients  of  sixty  or  seventy  ov  a  bimdred  thousand  men 
engaged  in  fierce  battle?  Just  think  of  it  for  a  moment, 
and  take  Chickamauga  as  an  illustration.  In  bis  front 
and  for  a  short  distance  to  bis  right  and  left  Rosecraus, 
as  he  stood  in  the  shade  of  a  clump  of  trees  in  the  Widow 
Glen's  dooryard,  could  see  bis  troops  surging  to  and  fro, 
breaking  and  rallying,  charging  and  retiring,  in  the 
thick  woods  and  through  the  few  open  fields,  beneath  a 
cloud  of  smoke  hovering  low  and  white;  and  those  whom 
he  could  thus  see  covered  a  part  of  his  line  which  could 
not  have  been  more  than  half  a  mile  in  extent.  Miles 
away  on  his  left  a  steady  roaring  told  of  heavy  fighting; 
miles  to  his  right  an  occasional  outburst  of  wicked 
clangor  gave  indication  of  what  might  be  a  tremendous 
attack  by  the  enemy  there,  while  between  these  two  ex- 
tremes the  rattling  of  small  arms  and  the  booming  of 
great  guns  and  volleys  of  cheers  testified  of  warm  work 
all  along  the  line.  The  face  of  the  country-  was  broken, 
abounding  in  high  bills,  rounding  off  in  knob  shapes, 
rising  into  peaks  or  stretching  out  in  ragged,  oblong 
massiveness;  deep  ravines,  sometimes  almost  chasms,  and 
little  strips  of  tilled  fields  comparatively  level,  alternated  ; 
and  over  all,  save  the  bare  fields,  of  course,  sprang  a 
dense  growth  of  heavy  forest  trees  with  more  or  less  un- 
derbrush. And  stationed  right  in  the  middle  of  this, 
Rosecrans,  as  the  commanding  general,  thus  helpless  and 
blind,  was  supposed  to  be  responsible  for  everything  that 
happened;  upon  hasty  and  brief  communications  from 
bis  subordinate  commanders  it  was  his  business  to  keep 
in  his  mind's  e^'e  a  picture  of  the  whole  field,  and  to 
issue  orders  which  were  supreme  and  beyond  question  or 
cavil,  and  if  in  his  painful  groping  he  made  a  mistake,  as 
it  would  seem  be  could  not  well  help  doing,  be  would  be 
held  to  rigid  account  and  subjected  to  a  censure  so  stern 
and  unsparing  that  death  itself  would  be  almost  pref- 
erable. 

Thomas  advised,  at  the  council  of  war  held  by  Rose- 
crans with  his  corps  commanders  at  the  Widow  Glen's 
bouse  Saturday  night,  that  the  entire  army  should  be 
concentrated  on  the  group  of  bills  lying  about  a  mile  and  a 


GOD'S  WAR.  259 

half  north  of  Lee  and  Gordon's  mills,  and  through  which 
the  Lafayette  road  leading  to  the  gap  at  Rossville  ran,  and 
which  went  trending  south  and  west  to  the  Dry  Valley 
road  leading  to  McFarland's  Gap,  with  the  reserve  posted 
in  the  center  of  the  rear  upon  the  eastern  slopes  of  the 
spurs  and  foothills  of  Missionary  Kidge.  This  group  of 
hills  afterward  became  known  as  the  "Horseshoe  Eidge. " 
Through  the  gaps  in  Missionary  Ridge  at  Rossville  and 
McFarland's  lay  the  only  roads  to  Chattanooga.  The  im- 
portance of  defending  them,  as  would  have  been  possible 
if  General  Thomas'  advice  had  been  taken,  is  readily 
apparent.  It  was  Rosecrans'  business  to  hold  them  so  that 
he  could  pass  his  army  safely  through  the  mountains  to 
Chattanooga,  while  it  was  important  to  Bragg  that  they 
should  be  cut  otf  so  that  he  might  be  enabled  to  annihi- 
late the  Union  forces.  There  is  no  question  but  that,  if 
the  army  had  been  concentrated  and  placed  upon  this 
ridge  which  offered  one  of  the  strongest  natural  positions 
to  be  imagined,  the  result  of  Sunday's  fighting  would 
have  been  very  different.  But  Rosecrans  had  established 
his  field  hospitals  so  far  south  as  Crawfish  Springs,  and 
for  this  reason  and  perhaps  other  and  stronger  ones,  he 
preferred  to  cover  more  territory  than  he  would  have 
done  had  he  followed  Thomas'  advice.  He  made  so  much 
concession  to  Thomas,  however,  that  he  permitted  that 
commander  to  put  the  bulk  of  his  left  and  center  (i.e., 
the  left  and  center  of  the  left  wing),  very  nearly  on  that 
part  of  the  ridge  which  they  would  have  occupied  had 
Thomas' plan  been  fully  carried  out;  but  he  threw  the 
right  (McCook)  away  off  toward  the  south,  whereby  his 
line  was  weakened  in  proportion  as  it  was  extended. 

Polk,  commanding  Bragg's  right,  was  ordered  on  Sat- 
urday night  to  attack  on  Sunday  at  daybreak,  but  for 
some  reason  not  clearly  apparent  unless  it  is  true  that  he 
slept  too  late,  he  failed  to  open  tire  till  8 :30  on  that 
morning. 

At  6  o'clock  A.M.  on  the  20th,  General  Thomas  notified 
Rosecrans  that  he  had  discovered  a  movement  of  tho 
enemy  to  his  left,  toward  the  Rossville  (Lafayette)  road, 
and  asked  that  his  remaining  division,  (Negley's,)  be  sent 
to  strengthen   his  flank,     As  the  attack   of  the    enemy 


260  GOD  S   WAR. 

would  come  from  the  north,  he  proposed  to  place  Negley 
facing  toward  that  direction  aud  almost  at  right  angles 
with  Baird,  the  next  division  on  the  right,  facing  east; 
at  the  same  time  he  intended  to  place  Xegley's  three  bat- 
teries on  the  eastern  slope  of  Missionary  Ridge,  so  that 
their  lire  would  enfilade  Bragg's  advancing  column. 
Rosecrans  at  once  ordered  Negley  to  be  sent  from  his 
place  on  the  right,  to  Thomas,  but  for  reasons  not  cred- 
itable to  the  parties  concerned,  chiefly  negligence,  only 
one  brigade  of  the  division,  John  Beatty's,  obeyed  the 
order,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  Twenty-first  Ohio  of 
Sirwell's  brigade  the  other  two  brigades  did  not  reach 
that  part  of  the  field  till  long  after  the  threatened  attack 
had  been  repulsed ;  and  when  in  point  of  fact  they  were 
worse  needed  on  the  right. 

Beatty  reached  Thomas  in  time,  but  his  one  brigade 
made  but  a  weak  line  in  the  space  where  Thomas  had  in- 
tended to  put  three  such  organizations.  However,  he  did 
the  best  he  could  by  way  of  getting  Beatty  into  position, 
and  then,  like  a  wise  man,  pondered  acutely  while  he 
waited  for  developments. 

Our  troops  had  made  such  breastworks  during  the  night 
of  Saturday  as  the  means  at  hand  would  admit  of.  It 
was  a  heavily  wooded  country,  but  fallen  timber  and 
logs  for  such  purposes  were  by  no  means  plenty;  there 
were  very  few  fences  even.  But  with  such  rails  and 
stones  and  limbs  of  trees  as  they  could  lay  hands  on, 
the  soldiers  built  breastworks;  in  some  cases  these 
structures  were  fairly  presentable,  but  in  most  they  were 
of  but  very  little  value  indeed — frequently,  for  miles, 
not  more  than  a  foot  high. 

Bragg  waited  till  long  after  daylight  for  his  bishop- 
general  to  fall  to  at  the  Christian  work  of  slaying  his 
fellow-creatures,  but  the  welcome  sound  of  firing  on  the 
right  was  not  heard.  The  good  preacher-man  had  found 
a  soft  bed  somewhere  on  the  east  side  of  the  Chicka- 
mauga,  it  is  said,  and  was  evidently  enjoying  its  com- 
forts. That  is,  I  suppose  he  was;  no  other  explanation 
has  ever  been  gi  'en  of  his  proluu'jced  absence  from  the  field 
that  morning. 

He  may  have  been   praying  to   the  Almighty  to    bless 


god's  war.  261 

and  strengthen  that  day  the  arms  and  hearts  of  the  army 
to  which  he  belouged,  to  the  end  that  the  soldiers  thereof 
might  kill  and  maim  their  fellow-men  to  His  glory  and 
honor,  and  to  the  overthrow  of  His  adversaries,  world 
without  end. 

At  all  events  this  was  the  custom  of  the  godly  men  in 
both  armies,  during  those  days;  and  within  a  mile  of 
the  Confederate  communing  confidentially  with  the  Lord 
as  to  how  He  might  best  give  His  aid  to  the  cause  which 
He  held  dear,  might  have  been  seen  the  Union  man  like- 
wise beseeching  the  loving  All-Father  to  make  the  hills 
red  with  the  blood  of  the  rebels  and  fill  the  air  with  the 
groans  of  agony  wrung  from  their  maimed  and  torn 
bodies,  also  to  the  end  that  His  glory  and  dominion  and 
power  and  wisdom  and  truth  and  justice,  and  above  all 
His  tender  mercy  and  loving  kindness,  might  be  shown 
to  all  peoples  dwelling  upon  the  earth. 

Each  of  these  persons,  disregarding  the  consideration 
of  the  stronger  battalions,  knew,  in  his  fervent  piety, 
that  the  Lord  was  on  his  side,  and  that  his  enemies  were 
the  Lord's  enemies.  And  without  doubt  each  felt  when 
he  rose  refreshed  from  his  devotions  and  girded  up  his 
loins  and  went  forth  to  murder  his  fellow-man,  that  he 
was  doing  God's  service;  and  if  perchance  one  of  them 
fell,  his  soul  flew  to  its  eternal  home  through  lips  parted 
with  the  proud,  ineffable  smile  of  the  martyr,  who  re- 
joices that  he  has  been  permitted  to  die  that  God's  pur- 
poses might  be  established,  and  shed  his  life-blood  that 
with  it  might  be  cemented  the  stately  walls  of  His  king- 
dom. 

And  yet  neither  of  these  men  was  insane. 

At  8 :30  the  enemy  advanced  under  cover  of  a  cloud  of 
skirmishers  upon  our  left,  and  reaching  the  proper  dis- 
tance they  fell  with  fury  upon  Beatty,  breaking  and 
driving  him,  and  upon  Baird,  next  to  the  right,  where 
they  were  repulsed  bj'  a  terrific  fire  from  behind  the 
breastworks,  against  which  they  could  not  stand.  Rap- 
idly following,  Johnson,  Palmer,  and  Reynolds,  on  Baird 's 
right,  were  attacked,  the  enemy  rushing  in  heavy  masses 
upon  the  Union  line,  again  and  again,  with  a  persistence 
that  seemed  almost  hellish ;  but  calmly  and  promptly  oux* 


262  GOD'S  WAR. 

men  met  and  overthrew  them,  sending  them  back,  actu- 
ally reeling-  from  the  force  of  their  repulse,  with  dreadful 
slaughter.  On  the  extreme  left,  followiup:  up  Beatty's 
slowly  relreating  aud  stubbornly  fighting  men,  the  Con- 
federates crossed  the  Lafayette  road  and  penetrated  to 
the  rear  of  Bnird's  division.  Here  they  prepared  with 
Breckinridge's  Corps  to  assault  from  the  rear,  when 
Thomas  gathering  here  and  there  a  regiment  from  John- 
son, a  part  of  Stanley's  brigade  of  Negley's  division, 
one  or  two  regiments  of  which  by  this  time  had  arrived, 
with  Vanderveer's  brigade  and  Beatty's  broken  and 
scattered  but  plucky  men,  made  such  an  onslaught  upon 
the  enemy  that  he  drove  him,  fl.ying  for  his  life,  around 
Baird's  left,  back  to  the  front  again. 

For  two  hours  Bragg  pounded  away  at  Rosecrans'  left 
and  center;  bringing  up  fresh  troops — and  he  seemed  to 
have  an  unlimited  supply — as  fast  as  his  assaulting  col- 
umns were  broken  and  demoralized,  and  showing  the 
utmost  determination  to  make  a  breach  at  this  point  in  our 
lines.  But  it  was  without  avail.  Thomas  was  there; 
and  that  knowledge  made  each  man  in  his  line  a  heroic 
warrior  and  an  immovable  rock. 

Meantime  Longstreet  had  grown  impatient,  over  on 
the  rebel  left,  and  at  about  10  :30  he  moved  forward  to 
battle.  He  states  that  he  assaulted  in  brigade  formation, 
five  brigades  deep,  massed,  at  half-distance,  and  that  so 
soon  as  one  brigade  became  demoralized  another  took  its 
place,  and  so  on.*  Hood  led  this  assault  with  his  accus- 
tomed valor  and  dash,  and  it  certainly  was  heavy  and 
fierce  enough  to  have  taken  a  fort;  and  that  it  broke  a 
thin  line  of  unprotected  men  two  ranks  deep  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at.  The  men  on  the  right,  as  formed  in  the 
morning,  had  no  protection  of  any  sort  to  speak  of. 

As  the  assault  grew  heavj'  and  hot  on  the  left,  Eose- 
craus  became  convinced  that  Bragg  was  simply  renewing 
his  attempt  of  the  previous  day  to  turn  his  left;  he  ac- 
cordingly sent  troops  from  his  right  over  to  Thomas,  as 
rapidly  as  he  could  withdraw  them  and  form  new  lines. 


*  Interview  with  Colonel  Frank  A.  Burr,  published  April,  1883, 
in  the  Cincinnati  Enquirer. 


god's  war.  2r»3 

At  10:10  A.M.  be  wrote  to  McCook  to  "make  immediate 
disposition8  to  withdraw  the  right,  so  as  to  spare  as 
much  force  as  possible  to  reinforce  Thomas.  The  left 
must  be  held  at  all  hazards,  even  if  the  right  is  drawn 
wholly  back  to  the  present  left." 

The  right  was  weak  and  weakly  posted,  before  a  man 
had  been  sent  to  Thomas;  it  was  not  long  till  so  many  of 
McCook 's  men  were  withdrawn  that  that  general  was  left 
with  a  command  comprising  only  three  brigades.  In 
this  emergency  Crittenden's  Corps,  two  divisions,  in  re- 
serve on  the  eastern  slope  of  Missionary  Eidge,  was  called 
upon  to  strengthen  McCook.  Brannan's  division  lay 
somewhat  in  the  rear  of  McCook 's  left,  also  in  reserve,  to 
the  right  of  Reynolds,  Thomas'  right  flank. 

At  about  the  time  that  Crittenden's  reserves  were 
moving  forward  to  take  places  in  McCook 's  line,  General 
Wood,  on  Brannan's  right,  was  ordered  to  close  up  on 
Reynold's  right.  The  order  was  given  because,  Bran- 
nan's division  being  in  echelon  it  was  supposed  to  be  out 
of  the  line,  and  that  therefore  it  was  necessary  that 
Wood  should  touch  Reynold's  right  to  close  up  the  gap. 
In  literal  obedience  to  this  order.  Wood  moved  his  divi- 
sion by  the  left  flank  to  the  rear  of  Brannan,  proceeding 
toward  Reynolds,  just  as  he  (Wood)  was  coming  under 
fire  from  Longstreet's  advance.  Into  the  gap  thus  left, 
and  which  Davis  (Jeff.  C.)  hastened  to  try,  but  in  vain, 
to  fill  with  a  brigade,  poured  six  divisions  of  the  rebel 
army. 

A  child  seeing  this  situation  would  not  need  to  be  told 
what  ensued;  and  to  describe  how  each  brigade  and  regi- 
ment and  division  was  met  and  crushed  by  the  Confeder- 
ates in  this  part  of  the  field  would  serve  only  to  bewilder 
the  reader,  and  perhaps  drive  him  to  one  of  the  current 
maps  of  the  battlefield  of  Chickamauga  for  enlighten- 
ment, whereupon  may  Heaven  help  him !  He  will  save 
time  to  order  a  strait-jacket  before  he  looks  at  the  thing! 

It  is  sufficient  to  say  that  the  right  was  swept  away, 
carrying  with  it  off  the  field  Crittenden's  reserves;  that 
Brannan  fell  back  to  a  commanding  hill  a  part  of  "Horse- 
shoe Ridge,"  afterward  known  to  the  rebels  as  "Battery 
Hill,"  where  he  took  position  on  the  right  of  Thomas' 


2G4  GOD'S   WAR. 

line;  that  in  turn  some  one  ordered  the  Twenty-first 
Ohio  to  the  hill  on  Brannan's  right,  and  that  here,  with 
twenty  thousand  men  posted  on  the  "Horseshoe  Ridge," 
where  he  wanted  tn  put  all  of  Eosecraus'  array  the  night 
before,  George  H.  Thomas,  the  "Kock  of  Chickamauga, " 
confronted  Bragg's  howling  and  exultant  legions  and 
calmly  bade  thein  detiance,  and,  as  the  day  wore  on, 
resolutely  whipped  them,  time  and  again,  for  four 
hours;  until  even  Longstreet  with  his  twenty-three 
thousand  men  pitted  against  the  right  of  a  line  which 
altogether  held  only  twenty  thousand,  was  fain  to  call 
upon  Bragg  for  reinforcements. 

Begining  at  11:30  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  first 
placed  in  position,  the  Twenty-first  Ohio  held  the 
right  of  the  line  till  after  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  At 
about  3  o'clock,  the  rebels  sent  a  strong  force  (Hindman's 
division)  upon  the  hill  and  in  the  ravine  to  the  right  of 
the  Twenty-first,  with  the  purpose  of  turning  that  flank 
and  getting  into  the  rear  of  Thomas'  army — for  with 
the  disaster  to  the  right  wing  Rosecrans,  McCook,  and 
Crittenden,  believing  that  the  day  was  lost,  had  retired 
to  Chattanooga,  leaving  Thomas  to  hold  alone  the  fate 
or  fortune  of  the  army  in  his  own  hands.  The  Twenty- 
first,  perceiving  this  movement,  swung  its  right  wing 
backward,  like  a  gate  upon  a  hinge,  the  colors  being  the 
hinge,  till  it  faced  the  enemy  engaged  in  the  flanking 
movement.  Thus  facing  it  poured  into  the  advancing 
columns  a  terrific  fire  from  its  revolving  rifles,  and  for 
some  moments  checked  their  advance.  But  the  check 
would  have  been  temporary  and  of  little  avail,  and  Thomas 
and  his  men  would  have  been  crushed  and  captured 
if  help  had  not  come  from  an  unexpected  source. 

Now  it  is  true  that  sometimes  the  most  insignificant 
things,  appareutb'  done  in  the  steadj'  and  unthinking 
way  of  routine,  are  of  the  utmost  importance  after  all, 
and  productive  of  results  of  great  magnitude.  Especially 
is  this  true  of  battles;  and  the  true  history  of  a  great 
battle  can  never  be  written  until  all  the  details  are  known 
80  that  the  real  importance  of  minor  movements  in  their 
bearing  upon  the  ultimate  result  can  be  appreciated. 

And  while  there  are  very  few,  perhaps,  of  the  survivors 


god's  war.  265 

of  the  Twenty-first  who  will  be  able  to  recall,  out  of  the 
number  of  maneuvers  of  that  regiment  on  Sunday  at 
Ohickauiauga.  the  fact  that  at  about  3  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  the  right  wing  of  the  regiment  swung  back  as 
has  been  said,  like  a  gate,  so  as  to  confront  the  enemy 
who  had  got  footing  on  the  hill  to  the  right  and  rear  of 
the  regiment,  and  thus  checked  the  advance  of  the  rebels 
and  held  them  for  some  minutes  till  Steedman's  men  in 
their  immortal  charge  drove  them  back ;  yet  it  is  true 
that  the  movement  was  made.  No  especial  significance 
was  given  to  it  at  the  time,  nor  for  a  long  time  afterward 
when  it  came  to  be  understood.  Out  of  the  numberless 
shiftings  of  the  line  of  the  regiment,  to  meet  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  struggle  during  the  day,  this  one  deserves 
to  have  a  place  by  itself;  because  there  can  be  no  doubt 
but  that  it  proved  to  be  the  salvation  of  the  Army  of  the 
Cumberland  on  that  field,  just  as  much  as  Steedman's 
charge. 

General  Gordon  Granger,  commanding  the  Fourth 
Corps,  lay  with  his  men  posted  in  and  about  Eossville 
Gap,  two  or  two  and  a  half  miles  distant.  Between  2  and 
3  o'clock  of  Sunday  afternoon,  hearing  the  continuous 
roar  of  the  conflict  and  knowing  that  more  than  half  of  the 
army  had  been  swept  from  the  field,  he  judged  that  by 
advancing  he  might  at  least  help  the  brave  men  caged 
and  fighting  there,  out  of  a  deadly  peril.  He  therefore 
gave  General  James  B.  Steedmau  charge  of  two  brig- 
ades, commanded  respectively  by  General  Walter  C. 
Whittaker  and  Colonel  (afterward  General)  John  G. 
Mitchell,  who  started  with  them  to  the  front.  Arriving 
there  and  reporting  to  Thomas,  he  was  found  to  have  come 
opportunely,  and  he  was  ordered  to  charge  Lougstreet's 
flanking  columns.  This  he  did  with  such  splendor  of 
dash  and  courage  as  sent  the  rebels  flying  back  over  the 
hills  to  their  old  lines.  Steedman  then  formed  on  the 
right  of  the  Twenty-first,  but  with  a  long  interval  of  at 
least  an  eighth  of  a  mile  between  his  left  and  the  right 
of  that  regiment.  In  this  interval  was  a  deep  ravine — 
one  of  those  so  deep  and  abrupt  that  it  fairly  deserved  to 
be  called  a  canyon  or  a  chasm.  And  in  this  position 
Steedman  fought,  during  the  rest  of  the  day. 


266  GOD'S  WAR. 

Till  dark,  the  story  was  the  same;  the  rebels  swept  up 
ingreatmassesof  fiery,  impetuous  valor;  the  Union  troops 
met  them  with  a  cool,  steadfast  courage  which  knew  no 
thought  of  yielding;  it  was  not  until  darkness  began  to 
settle  down  that  the  rebels  seemed  to  weary  in  their 
strenuous  endeavors.  Before  this  the  Union  troops  had 
exhausted  their  ammunition,  even  to  that  found  on  the 
bodies  of  the  killed  and  wounded,  and  had  settled  down 
grimly  and  stubbornly  to  hold  their  position  with  the 
bayonet.  At  last  they  crept  off  the  field,  from  a  foe  so 
badly  injured  that  he  scarcely  raised  a  hand  to  molest 
them ;  and  in  the  darkness  of  the  night  they  silentlj- 
plodded  their  way  to  the  gaps  at  Rossville  and  Mc- 
Farland's;  and  daylight  found  them,  reunited,  the 
awful  gaps  in  their  ranks  closed  up,  with  keen  and  steady 
eyes  peering  from  beneath  knit  and  lowering  brows,  alert 
and  courageous,  waiting  and  watching  for  a  renewal 
of  the  assault  the  enemy  had  so  reluctantly  abandoned 
the  night  before. 


god's  war.  267 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

COURAGE,    THEN    AND    NOW. 

The  quality  of  courage  as  displayed  ou  the  battlefield 
Las  changed  since  the  days  of  "chivalry"  as  much,  I  am 
Iiersuaded,  as  the  manner  of  making  war  and  fighting 
battles.  At  first  blush  it  would  seem  in  the  old  times 
when  men  fought  chiefly  at  arm's  length  and  hacked  each 
other  with  keen  swords  and  battered  each  other's  brains 
out  with  great  clubs  stuck  full  of  spikes,  and  gayly  ran 
each  other  through  the  midriff  with  long  spears,  that 
despite  the  armor  then  worn  bj'  all  fighting  men  the 
degree  of  courage  requisite  to  sustain  one  in  such  en- 
counters must  have  been  much  greater  than  is  that  de- 
manded in  these  later  days  to  enable  a  man  to  face  an 
enemy  a  mile  or  half  a  mile  off,  popping  away  at  him 
with  a  rifle.  But  I  think  that  this  is  a  mistake.  The 
courage  required  in  the  olden  times  was  very  different 
and  I  think  of  a  lower  order;  more  like  brute  courage  as 
distinguished  from  moral  courage.  In  a  hand  to  hand 
encounter  a  man  is  prettj'  apt  to  be  brave  in  proportion 
as  he  has  confidence  in  his  own  skill,  and  strength  and 
weight  and  powers  of  endurance.  Xone  of  these  things 
will  suffice  to  protect  a  man  from  the  leaden  pellet 
which,  flying  unseen,  and  until  it  has  passed,  unheard, 
searches  out  its  victim  and  buries  itself  in  the  body 
before  a  warning  of  its  approach  has  been  had. 

I  have  known  men  who  would  face  a  mob  and  whip  a 
half  a  dozen  men  in  a  boiit  at  fisticuffs  who  were  the 
veriest  cowards  when  bullets  began  to  patter  around 
them;  and  it  seems  to  me  that  their  courage  was  of  the 
same  sort  that  was  chiefly  in  vogue  in  the  good  old  days 
when  all  the  danger  a  man  should  meet  in  battle  was 
plainly  before  his  eyes. 


268  god's  war. 

The  bullet  is  like  the  assassin  who  lurks  unseen  to  stab 
or  crush  his  victim ;  and  the  bravest  man  threatened  by 
the  assassin  may  well  admit  that  he  trembles  at  heart 
thinking  of  his  danger.  Bullets  are  blind  assassins, 
merciless  and  resistless.  You  may  iiot  hope  to  protect 
yourself  against  them.  Though  you  have  the  strength  of 
a  Goliath  and  the  nimble  skill  and  quickness  of  a  David 
you  cannot  escape  nor  secure  yourself  from  the  ball 
which  has  taken  the  line  to  your  heart.  So  that  a  n:iau 
in  a  modern  battle  is  like  one  who  walks  amid  thousands 
of  unseen  assassins. 


god's  war.  269 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 


A    BEGIMENT    AT    CHICKAMACGA. 


The  Twenty-first  Ohio  broke  camp  at  Cave  Springs, 
Alabama,  on  the  evening  of  September  1st,  for  the  twentj-- 
two  days  campaign  of  marching  and  countermarching 
over  mountain  ranges  and  deep  rivers  and  through  fruit- 
ful valleys  in  a  region  where,  at  that  time  of  the  year  the 
days  are  hot  and  drj'  and  the  roads  dusty,  and  a  dew 
like  a  rain  falls  at  night,  making  it  uncomfortably  cold 
without  a  fire.  The  campaign  comprised  (in  addition  to 
small  skirmishing  scarcely  worthy  of  record  as  being 
dwarfed  out  of  sight  by  the  greater  events  that  marked 
the  time)  the  affair  at  Dug  Gap  which  was  thrilling 
because  of  the  narrow  escape  from  a  disaster  which 
would  have  been  without  remedy,  and  the  great  battle 
on  the  banks  of  the  deep,  dark,  sluggish,  narrow  stream 
whose  name  has  become  immortal. 

During  the  afternoon  of  the  1st,  the  division  was 
drawn  up  in  line  to  witness  a  punishment  novel  to  the 
men,  inflicted  upon  two  scoundrels,  who  had  strayed 
from  camp,  entered  a  widow's  house,  and  after  compelling 
her  to  cook  them  a  meal  had  stolen  everything  of  value 
she  had  upon  the  premises.  Their  offense  became  known 
and  they  were  promptly  tried  by  court-martial,  found 
guilty,  and  sentenced  to  have  their  heads  shaved  and  to 
be  paraded  in  irons  before  the  entire  division,  then  to  be 
put  at  hard,  menial  labor  with  a  ball  and  chain  garnish- 
ment. 

The  day  w^as  bright  and  the  men  in  fine  humor.  They 
were  especially  jubilant  at  the  punishment  of  the  repro- 
bates who  had  brought  disgrace  upon  all  by  their  infa- 
mous   conduct-      When    the    little   party    came   slowly 


270  god's  war. 

marching  down  the  front,  however,  the  guilty  men,  each 
with  the  half  of  his  head  shaved,  escorted  by  a  corporal's 
guard  and  the  drums  and  fifes  playing  the  "Rogue's 
March,"  the  impression  pro<luced  was  painful  in  the 
extreme.  The  men  stood  absorbed,  gazing  on  the  humili- 
ating spectacle,  and  so  remained  silent  for  some  moments, 
and  only  found  their  tongues  as  they  marched  back  to 
their  now  dismantled  camp. 

After  a  time,  at  last,  the  natural  tendency  to  look  on 
all  sides  of  everything  and  to  dwell  especially  upon  the 
humorous  view,  asserted  itself;  and  the  bivouac  re- 
sounded with  rude  impromptu  verses  sung  to  the  air 
which  most  of  them  had  heard  that  day  for  the  first 
time;  as,  for  example: 

"  Poor  old  soldier;  poor  old  soldier; 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  had  his  head  shaved, 
Because  he  wouldn't  soldier  !  etc. 

"  Poor  old  soldier;  poor  old  soldier; 
Tarred  and  feathered  and  sent  to  h — 1, 
Because  he  wouldn't  soldier .'"  etc. 

The  Tennessee  was  spanned  at  Caperton's  Ferry  by  a 
pontoon  bridge,  upon  which  the  regiment,  breaking  step, 
rapidly  crossed  by  moonlight. 

Then,  as  they  filed  up  the  bluffy  bank  and  took  the 
road  on  the  south  side  of  the  river,  a  whistler  in  Com- 
pany "A"  suddenly  broke  silence  with  the  new  air, 
blithe  and  gay  as  a  robin  in  spring-time.  Instantly  the 
point  was  appreciated  and  other  whistlers  joined  in,  till 
swiftly  trailing  down  the  whole  line  of  the  regiment  the 
"Eogue's  March"  was  shrilling  forth  from  hundreds  of 
puckered  mouths,  while  every  man,  from  marching  at 
will  and  carrying  his  rifle  as  it  pleased  him,  took  step  to 
the  music,  brought  his  gun  to  a  "right  shoulder  shift" 
and  "dressed  to  the  left."  So,  for  a  mile  or  more  per- 
haps, they  marched  proudly  onward  as  if  on  review, 
their  eyes  dancing  with  the  fun  of  the  thing,  while  their 
officers  laughed  in  sympathj'. 

In  an  ordinary  emergency  one  would  have  regarded  it 


cod's  war.  'HVx- 

Rs  a  job  to  be  tbongbt  twice  of,  to  attempt  in  those  days 
to  cross  either  the  Big  Raccoon  or  Lookout  Mountain  on 
horseback ;  and  to  cross  with  a  four-wheeled  vehicle  was 
something  3'ou  would  have  preferred  to  let  your  neigh- 
bor essay. 

For  the  most  part  the  road  was  little  more  than  a  bridle- 
path, thickly  strewn  with  bowlders,  in  size  from  the 
"nigger-head"  up  to  rocks  weighing  thousands  of 
pounds;  the  forest  growth  was  almost  as  thick  in  the  so- 
called  road  as  on  either  side,  while  the  ascent  was  very 
steep  from  the  foot  to  the  top  of  the  mountain ;  so  that, 
even  after  the  men  had  cleared  away  the  trees  and  sap- 
lings with  axes,  and  had  rolled  the  huger  bowlders  aside 
with  improvised  levers  and  much  pushing  of  bony  shoul- 
ders, and  had,  with  spades  and  picks,  leveled  up  the 
chasms  torn  across  the  trail  by  fierce  mountain  torrents — 
even  after  all  this  had  been  done  it  was  beyond  the  great- 
est resources  of  the  teamster's  objurgatory  art  to  compel 
the  four  mules  to  pull  a  loaded  wagon  more  than  a  few 
feet  at  a  time  up  the  precipitous  incline  Avithout  help. 
And  this  help  was  given  by  hitching  a  long  rope  to  the 
wagon,  to  which  the  men  attached  themselves,  and  bend- 
ing their  backs  with  much  good-humored  and  bad- 
bumored  shouting  and  joking  and  panting  and  puflSng 
and  blowing  they  brought  the  wagons,  and  the  artillery 
limbers  as  well  to  the  top.  And  while  the  work  done 
by  the  Twenty -first  as  to  road-making  was  availed  of  by 
the  regiments  that  followed,  yet  the  least  that  each  had 
to  do  was  most  laborious  and  painful. 

Among  the  triumphs  of  modern  warfare  certainly  de- 
serves to  be  ranked  the  performance  of  the  brigade  to 
which  the  Twenty-first  belonged  in  turning  a  small,  rude 
sawmill  into  a  bridge,  on  this  march;  and  so  substantial 
a  structure  was  it  that  the  whole  of  the  Fourteenth 
Corps,  horse,  foot,  and  artillery,  men  and  teams,  passed 
successfully  over  it. 

Made  up  of  men  of  all  avocations,  there  was  nothing 
which  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  could  nou  do,  from 
the  production  of  a  Latin  thesis  or  the  translation  of  the 
Iliad  down  to  the  building  of  a  bridge  on  the  most  scien- 
tific principles  or  the  courageous  fighting  and  winning  of 
battles. 


278  GOlVS   WAR. 

A  man  catches  bis  breath  at  a  sudden  and  unexpected 
volley,  veiy  much  as  he  does  at  his  first  plunge  into  a 
river  whose  water  is  of  lower  temperature  than  his  body. 
This  was  what  the  Twenty-first  did  when,  moving  some- 
what carelessly,  in  line  of  battle  front,  it  was  first  notified 
one  day  that  the  passage  of  Pigeon  Gap  would  be  dis- 
puted, hy  receiving  a  rattling,  ripping  volley  from  a  regi- 
ment of  Confederate  cavalry  dismounted  and  concealed 
behind  a  stone  fence  at  the  foot  of  a  gentle  slope,  the  top 
of  which  had  just  been  gained  by  the  regiment.  Then 
the  men  smiled  apologetically  at  each  other,  and  turned 
to  cheer  their  gallant  comrades  from  the  left  of  the  brig- 
ade, who,  with  an  impulsive  charge,  drove  the  Johnnies 
from  their  protection  and  sent  them  clattering  off  on 
their  horses. 

But  the  incidents  of  the  affair  at  Dug  Gap  have  already 
been  treated  of  sufficientlj',  and  no  remark  is  needed  here 
save  to  record  the  wonderful  confidence  of  the  men  in 
General  Thomas.  During  the  suspense  as  to  what  would 
be  the  result  of  the  gathering  of  the  Confederates  on  all 
sides  (their  motions  could  easily  be  followed  by  the 
clouds  of  dust  which  they  raised),  there  were  two  nights 
when  from  extreme  anxiety  no  man  slept  except  in  cat- 
naps— but  when  on  the  morning  of  the  third  day  the 
■word  was  passed  from  mouth  to  mouth,  "There's  old 
pap!"  they  laid  down  and  fell  asleep  in  broad  day  to 
make  up  the  loss,  all  uneasiness  having  been  banished  at 
once  by  the  sight  of  George  H.  Thomas  in  their  midst. 

So  we  will  pasG  over  the  monotonous  days  between  the 
12th  and  the  19th  of  September  as  presenting  nothing 
that  ought  to  take  up  our  time,  except  the  patient  en- 
durance of  the  men  who  knew,  or  thought  they  knew 
that  so  long  as  "Old  Pap"  was  with  them  no  great  harm 
could  come  to  them.  And  we  can  see  that  their  faith 
was  well  placfld  when  we  remember  that  with  any  other 
commander  Eosecrans  would  have  sent  them,  to  be 
crushed,  into  the  very  heart  of  Bragg's  large  and  daily 
increasing  army. 

During  nearly  all  of  the  19th  the  Twenty-first  was  kept 
away  off  to  the  right  to  guard  against  an  assault  from 
that  direction.     From  the  point  where  they  lay,  on  the 


god's  war.  273 

brow  of  a  hill  above  the  stream,  they  could  see  the  dust 
cloud  which  marked  the  line  of  Longstreet's  men  coming 
to  the  front,  and  the  steady  shiftiii-g  of  Bragg 's  heavy 
forces  from  his  left  to  his  right;  and  they  could  hear  the 
almost  continuous  roar  of  the  battle  on  their  left  which 
told  that  Bragg  was  trying  to  repeat  in  the  Georgia 
Mountains  the  success  he  had  achieved  among  the  tangled 
thickets  of  Middle  Tennessee  in  the  previous  December. 
But  the  man  who  was  in  command  of  the  Union  left  at. 
Chickamaugawasnotthe  man  who  commanded  the  Union 
right  at  Stone  Elver;  which  fact  made  a  material  differ- 
ence in  the  chances  of  the  battle. 

As  the  hours  wore  on  the  fighting  on  the  left  seemed 
to  grow  more  fierce  and  intense,  and  toward  the  last  half 
of  the  afternoon  the  regiment  was  moved  slowly  toward 
the  firing.  At  last  it  was  put  to  a  double-quick  which 
was  maintained  for  several  miles  and  until  it  had  reached 
the  fighting  front  proper.  Here  it  was  formed  in  line  of 
battle  and  sent  charging  across  the  Lafayette  road  into  a 
body  of  woods,  where  it  was  received  with  a  volley  which 
added  speed  and  determination  to  its  onset.  The  result, 
however,  was  nothing  more  than  a  loss  of  two  men  killed 
and  three  wounded  on  the  part  of  the  regiment;  but  it  is 
believed  that  the  boldness  of  the  movement  checked  an 
advance  of  the  enemy  which  might  have  proved  impor- 
tant. 

Here  followed  a  night  almost  beyond  description,  so 
dread  and  awful  and  uncanny  was  it.  I  know  that  it  is 
neither  in  my  ink-bottle  nor  the  sense  that  guides  my 
pen  to  give  readers  who  have  not  gone  through  a  similar 
experience  any  idea  of  what  it  was.  But  it  may  be  that 
the  old  soldier  who  reads  will  fill  up  the  gap  from  his 
own  recollection  of  such  things. 

When  the  regiment  at  last  halted,  and  was  told  that  it 
should  remain  there  for  the  night,  darkness  had  set  in. 
Although  it  was  coming  on  to  be  bitter  cold  it  was  or- 
dered that  no  fires  should  be  lighted,  nor  any  blankets 
unrolled  save  the  rubber  abominations  which  may  have 
l)een  impervious  to  water,  but  were  at  the  same  time  no 
more  comforting  than  the  smooth  side  of  a  tombstone  in 
January.     The  men  were  ordered  to  get  together  what- 


274  GOD'S   WAR. 

ever  they  could  to  make  a  protection  for  themselves,  but 
the  scarcity  of  materials  and  the  gloom  of  the  wood  pre- 
vented them  from  constructing  anything  more  than  a  line 
scarcely  more  than  a  foot  high,  and  therefore  of  no  use  if 
a  man  tried  to  be  of  any  service  in  loading  and  firing; 
since  every  movement  would  bring  some  part  of  his  per- 
son above  the  line  of  protection. 

And  it  was  not  long  after  they  had  settled  down  to 
their  uncomfortable  and  hungry  vigil  before,  through  the 
silence  in  their  front,  they  heard  voices,  at  first  lifted  in 
giving  command,  and  then  falling  to  a  lower  and  less 
peremptory  tone.  When  they  came  to  understand  it, 
they  found  that  the  enemy  were  bivouacked  for  the  night 
so  near  that  a  conversation  could  be  carried  on  between 
the  two  armies  without  much  raising  of  the  voice.  The 
enemy  must  have  made  the  same  discovery  at  much  the 
same  time,  for  instantly  shots  came  singing  at  every 
head  that  Avas  exposed  on  the  line  of  the  Twenty-first. 
Our  men,  however,  made  little  or  no  reply,  as  they  had 
learned  not  to  shoot  until  they  were  sure  they  could  hit 
something — which  meant  somebody.  So  that  they  very 
intelligently  flattened  themselves  out  as  well  as  they 
could ;  and  burrowing  their  noses  into  the  inhospitable 
soil  of  Georgia,  they  wisely  determined  for  the  time 
being  to  make  as  little  stir  in  the  world  as  possible.  But 
as  there  was  everything  to  suggest  the  possibility  of  a 
sudden  attack  upon  them  they  closed  neither  eye  nor  ear 
till  daybreak. 

As  all  there  knew  that  a  terrible  conflict  was  impend- 
ing which  might  begin  in  five  minutes  and  which  they 
thought  could  not  possibly  be  postponed  longer  than 
daylight  (for  they  had  not  heard  of  Bishop  Polk's  good 
luck  in  finding  a  soft  bed),  and  as  no  man  could  form  a 
better  notion  as  to  what  the  result  of  that  conflict  would 
be,  so  far  as  he  was  personally  concerned,  than  to  make  up 
his  mind  that  the  chances  were  nine  out  of  ten  against 
his  getting  out  witii  a  whole  skin,  it  will  be  seen  that 
there  was  every  reason  why  they  should  be  filled  with 
the  most  serious  thoughts  that  can  ever  come  to  men. 
And,  truly,  before  twenty-four  hours  had  passed,  over 
half  of  their  number  were  either  killed,  wounded,  or 
prisoners.  -     . 


GOD'S  WAR.  ^75 

As  things  settled  down  for  the  night  and  quiet  began 
to  prevail  it  was  found  that  they  were  lying  on  the  con- 
fines of  the  battlefield  of  the  day,  and  that  between  them 
and  the  enemy  lay  quite  a  number  of  wounded  men, 
whose  groans  and  moans  and  wailing  cries  for  water 
made  the  hour  and  the  scene  only  more  solemn  and  sug- 
gestive. 

One  wounded  man  in  particular  was  determined  to 
make  himself  heard,  and  momentarily  grew  more  clam- 
orous with  his  shrieks  and  groans,  mingled  with  bitter 
imprecations  upon  those  who  might  come  to  his  rescue 
but  would  not — for  he  well  knew  that  on  either  hand 
and  clearl.v  within  earshot  lay  hundreds  if  not  thousands 
of  human  beings.  His  accent  plainly  proclaimed  him  a 
Johnnie,  and  it  was  naturally  supposed  that  his  graj'- 
coated  friends  would  go  to  minister  to  him ;  but  as,  time 
going  on,  it  was  found  that  they  were  for  some  reason 
not  disposed  to  do  so,  the  men  of  the  Twenty-first  de- 
termined to  attempt  the  merciful  errand.  Taking  a 
blanket  to  serve  as  a  stretcher  they  cautiously  made  their 
way  to  the  sufferer,  guided  by  his  voice  which  was  now 
continuous  in  reproach,  till  at  last,  spite  of  the  shots 
that  were  fired  at  them  they  brought  him  safeb'  off  to  the 
rear  of  their  line. 

Here  they  could  not,  in  the  dark  and  not  being  able 
to  see  where  his  hurts  were,  do  him  much  good;  but 
what  they  could  they  did.  He  had  been  wounded  in 
several  places  and  spite  of  all  they  could  do  they  could 
not  help  hurting  him  as  they  moved  him  about.  And  he 
was  evidently  suffering  intense  pain.  But  the  matter  of 
the  remarks  he  had  to  offer  upon  things  of  immediate 
interest  was  most  extraordinary.  He  talked  between 
groaning  paroxysms  and  by  agonized  jerks,  and  with  the 
most  fluent  profanitj'  : 

"It  were  good  of  you  all  to  come  out  after  me — and 

let  go  of  my  leg,  stranger — you're  a-killin'  of  me! 
"Water,  for  God's  sake!  Thank  ye!  I'll  never  forgit  ye 
for  this,  Yanks!  You've  done  me  a  good  turn,  and  I'll 
never  forgit  ye  for  it!  Oh,  my  God,  I  wish  I  could  die! 
I  don't  see  why  sich  misery  don't  kill  me — it  ought  to! 
God    in    heaven,  my    friend!    what  do  ye  mean — don't 


276  god's  war. 

tech  me,  I  say!     You  all  got  the  best  of  it  to-day,  but  to- 
liiorrow  by — there  won't  be  a  corp'ral's  guard  left  o'  ye! 

Longstreet  got  hyar  to-day,ye  shad-bellied and  he'll 

whip — out  o'  ye  to-morrow!     Water,  water,  why   don't 
ye  gimme  water?" 

And  so  on,  for  a  long  time  he  mingled  abuse  and  grati- 
tude and  curses  and  prayers  in  a  mosaic  that  was  hor- 
ribly grotesque.  The  good  fellows  around  him  took  no 
offense  from  his  bitter  cursing,  rather  admiring  his  grit 
and  laughing  as  they  understood  that  while  he  was  no 
whit  ungrateful  he  could  not  help  glorying  over  the 
defeat  he  saw  in  store  for  them  the  following  day.  At 
last  they  got  leave  and  carried  him  back  to  the  field  hos- 
pital where  his  wounds  were  dressed. 

Poor  Charlie  Allen!  the  captain  of  Company  "D,"  who 
had  scarcely  recovered  from  the  three  wounds  he  had 
received  at  Stone  Kiver  nearly  a  year  before,  and  had 
rejoined  the  regiment  onlj'  in  time  to  take  part  in  the 
campaign.  Who  could  Ijlame  him  that  he  sat  all  the 
cold,  dark  night  through,  praying  that  he  might  not  be 
wounded  again — that  if  he  were  hit  at  all,  the  ball  should 
put  an  end  to  his  life?  Who  could  blame  him  as  he 
looked  back  over  the  long  hours  and  days  that  he  had 
passed  in  prolonged  pain  on  the  hospital  cot,  if  he 
thought  that  death  itself  would  be  preferable  ? 

And  as  the  regiment  formed  its  line  under  fire  the  next 
morning  the  first  volley  that  came  sent  a  ball  into  the 
poor  fellow's  body !  And  the  last  glimpse  had  of  him 
showed  his  face  pale  and  drawn,  as,  just  before  his  doom 
came,  he  looked  for  it  with  eyes  filled  with  a  strained 
apprehension.  And  for  fifteen  long,  wear3'  mouths  he 
languished  and  suffered  from  that  shot,  till  at  last  it 
killed  him;  but  not  until  he  had  felt  all  that  he  had 
feared. 

When  the  gray  light  of  the  morning  of  the  20th  came 
it  showed  that  the  enemy  had  silently  withdrawn  from 
the  front  of  the  Twenty-first,  and  the  men  began  to  have 
some  freedom  of  action.  An  ominous  quiet  reigned 
everywhere,  and  all  ears  were  set  to  catch  the  first  rum- 
blings of  the  awful  storm  which  every  one  knew  might 
break  forth  at  any  moment.     But  it  was  a  long  wait — till 


GOD'S   WAR.  277 

8 :  30  o'clock,  when  the  crash  came  on  the  left  which 
showed  that  Bragg  was  still  determined  to  find  his 
victorj'  there. 

Then  for  over  two  hours  the  Twenty -first  was  shifted 
hither  and  thither  on  the  double-quick,  continually  fly- 
ing from  point  to  point  all  over  the  field  and  never  rest- 
ing anywhere,  but  constantly  bearing  to  the  left.  Finally, 
it  was  turned  sharply  off  toward  the  right  wing,  and 
traversing  the  open  end  of  what  was  afterward  known  as 
the  "Horseshoe,"  it  took  its  destined  place  and  began 
its  important  work. 

As  it  went  nimbly  up  the  hill  it  was  met  by  Colonel 
Walker,  serving  temporarily  on  Brannan's  staff,  by  whom 
it  was  warmly  adjured  to  "never  give  up  the  hill." 
There  was  no  further  relaxing  of  soldierly  rigidity  among 
the  men  than  a  mere  twinkle  of  the  eye  as  they  quietly 
replied  "All  right,  colonel;"  and  as  they  deployed  into 
line  they  looked  down  for  a  brief  moment  upon  the  rebels 
who  were  pouring  a  hot  musketry  fire  into  them;  as  a 
man  takes  time  to  measure  his  antagonist  while  he  pulls 
off  his  coat  and  prepares  to  pulverize  him.  Then,  the 
line  being  satisfactorily  adjusted,  they  went  to  firing 
with  disciplined  coolness  and  deadly  accuracy  till  the 
enemy  was  at  last  compelled  to  turn  tail.  Then  they 
took  time  to  look  at  each  other  and  mop  their  faces  as 
they  remarked : 

' '  First  knock-down  for  the  Twenty-first !  Beckon  there 's 
no  water  within  a  thousand  miles  of  this  hill!" 

Their  rest  was  not  for  long;  for  so  soon  as  they  had 
repulsed  one  brigade,  Longstreet  sent  up  another  against 
them;  and  so  they  fought  till  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon. 

Now  just  after  the  battle  of  Stone  Kiver,  the  authori- 
ties, seeing  the  good  stuff  there  was  in  the  regiment,  had 
thought  of  making  mounted  infantry  of  it;  and,  as  the 
first  step,  had  begun  to  issue  Colt's  revolving  rifles  to  the 
men,  so  that  seven  of  the  ten  companies  were  equipped 
with  this  fonuidable  aim  at  the  battle  of  Chickamauga. 
This  rifle  was  made  on  the  same  principle  as  the  Colt's 
revolver,  was  furnished  with  a  bayonet  and  could  be 
loaded  as  quickly  almost,  in  all  its  five  chambers,  as  the 
muzzle-loading  Enfield  rifles  with  which  the  remaining 


278  god's  war. 

three  companies  went  into  the  fight.  The  result  was 
that  at  first  the  charging  enemy,  reaching  the  proper 
distance  and  receiving  a  volley  from  the  regiment,  re- 
turned the  same  and  then  started  on  the  keen  jump  satis- 
fied they  could  reach  the  blue-coats  before  they  could 
reload;  before,  however,  they  had  advanced  ten  paces 
they  would  get  another  volley,  and  while  they  were  pon- 
dering on  this  circumstance  still  a  third ;  then  they 
would  scarceb^  get  their  backs  turned  before  the  fourth 
would  catch  them  and  when  on  a  dead  run  for  home 
base,  the  fifth  came  singing  among  them,  they  began  to 
think  that  certainly  old  Satan  was  in  it! 

Once  only  during  the  day  the  regiment  moved  forward 
slightly,  but  finding  the  position  not  so  good  it  slowly 
returned  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  up  which  the  rebels  came 
manfully  advancing  with  the  regularity  of  a  swinging 
pendulum.  In  falling  back,  the  guns  which  had  become 
heated  and  foul  from  much  use,  spouted  forth  fire  which 
in  time  ignited  the  drj^  leaves  and  undergrowth,  starting 
a  blaze  of  no  mean  proportions  but  still  not  great  enough 
to  interfere  with  the  fighting.  Scattered  over  the  space 
which  was  thus  burning  and  smoking  lay  quite  a  number 
of  wounded  men  belonging  to  the  regiment,  and  soon 
their  cries  for  relief  became  almost  appalling  as  the 
agony  of  beffig  roasted  was  added  to  the  pain  they 
suffered  from  their  bleeding  wounds.  Volunteers  rushed 
forward  and  drew  the  poor  fellows  back;  but  some  of 
them  were  piteously  burned,  with  the  white,  cooked 
flesh  peeling  back  from  their  charred  finger  bones  and 
great  flakes  falling  off  their  cheeks. 

In  all  their  fighting  there  was  only  one  case  that  can 
be  recalled,  where  any  man  in  his  senses  displayed  even 
a  little  bravado  or  anything  like  buncombe  if  indeed  he 
did. 

The  excitement  of  battle  sometimes  drives  men  insane, 
as  it  did  at  least  two  of  the  Twenty-first.  The  first  one 
was  a  fairly  good  soldier  apparently  well  balanced  and 
he  certainly  was  not  a  coward ;  but  he  had  not  been  under 
fire  half  an  hour  before  he  became  a  raving  maniac. 
There  was  this  method  in  his  madness,  however,  that  he 
neypr  ceased  to   fight :  only   he   ceased  to   fight  intelli- 


god's  war.  279 

gently.  He  ran  far  out  in  advance  of  the  regiment  and 
taking  his  position  by  the  side  of  a  tree,  loaded  and  fired 
furiousb',  all  the  time  shouting  and  3'elling  and  turning 
to  taunt  his  comrades  with  vile  profanity',  calling  them 
cowards  because  they  would  not  come  forward  to  join 
him.  Neither  coaxing  nor  threats  served  to  bring  him 
back  to  his  place,  and  at  last  his  madness  became  such  a 
painful  exhibition  of  gibbering  apishness  that  his  death 
was  a  welcome  relief;  if  one  may  say  such  a  thing. 

Another  man  had  two  or  three  fingers  shot  off  his  right 
hand,  and  he  instantly  flashed  into  temporary  insanity. 
He  cursed  and  reviled  the  enemy  with  the  most  oppro- 
brious epithets  that  ever  came  from  man's  worst  imagina- 
tion, dancing  and  gyrating  almost  comically  with  pain. 
Then  he  sought  a  wounded  companion  who,  lying  upon 
the  ground,  could  load  his  rifie  for  him.  Thus  aided  he 
kept  firing  and  shouting  and  cursing  till  the  loss  of  blood 
made  him  faint;  when  he  was  persuaded  to  go  to  the 
rear. 

After  the  fighting  had  been  going  on  for  two  or  three 
hours,  the  commander  of  one  of  the  companies  suddenly 
missed  one  of  his  men,  a  great,  tall,  strong  fellow  whose 
absence  let  a  great  hole  for  the  daylight  in  his  ranks. 
Inquiring  and  looking  around  for  him,  he  at  last  found 
him  about  ten  feet  in  the  rear  of  the  company,  lying 
prone  on  his  face,  behind  a  tree. 

"Why,  Blank,  what  is  the  matter  with  you?" 

The  man  raised  his  face;  every  spark  of  reason  had  fled 
from  it;  it  was  pallid  and  sickening  with  fear: 

"I'm  wounded — I'm  wounded,"  he  jabbered. 

"Where?" 

"Right  here — right  here — right  here!"  placing  his 
finger  on  his  forehead  where  the  skin  was  not  only  not 
broken  but  free  from  any  sort  of  discoloration  or  swelling. 

"What  do  you  mean,  Blank?  You're  not  wounded! 
How  dare  yo\i  tell  me  such  a  lie?" 

"lam!     lam!     I  tell  you  I  am!     I  tell  you  I  am!" 

"Come,  come;  I'll  have  no  more  of  this  nonsense!  Get 
back  to  your  place — get  back,  I  say!     For  shame!" 

"But  I  can't,  captain,  I  can't!  I  tell  you  I'm  wounded 
—I'm  wounded — right  here — right  here — right  heye!" 


280  god's  war. 

"Get  back  to  your  place,"  and  the  officer  smote  him 
sharply  with  his  sword.     "Get  back,  I  say!" 

"Oh,  captain,  for  God's  sake,  don'tl  For  God's  sake 
don't!  I'm  wounded!"  and  the  piteous  wretch  begged 
frantically  as  the  officer  slowly  drove  him  back  to  his 
place.  He  was  unhurt,  as  sound  in  body  as  ever  a  man 
was;  and  had  demonstrated  in  more  than  one  hard  fight 
the  possession  of  the  highest  courage. 

"Now  get  to  work,  and  let  me  hear  no  more  of  your 
absurd  notions!"  said  the  captain,  as  he  turned  to  look 
after  the  rest  of  his  men. 

His  order  was  obeyed.  With  a  look  so  full  of  utter 
despair  that  it  might  have  broken  a  heart  of  stone  as  he 
gazed  toward  the  enemy  the  poor  fellow  got  to  work, 
loading  and  firing  calmly  and  effectively  and  speaking  no 
word. 

Ten  minutes  afterward  the  captain  coming  again  in 
haste  to  the  head  of  the  company  stumbled  over  a  dead 
body.  Looking  down,  his  glance  met  the  stony,  staring 
gaze  of  poor  Blank!  He  was  dead — shot  through  the 
heart ! 

But  there  were  perhaps  not  a  half  dozen  men  in  the 
entire  regiment  (and  with  one  exception  the  Twenty-first 
was  the  largest  regiment  in  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland 
engaged  in  the  battle  of  Chickamauga)  who  were  not 
thorough  masters  of  themselves. 

The3'  were  of  two  sorts,  of  course,  as  to  courage. 
Some  men  grow  careless  of  danger  from  becoming  hab- 
ituated to  it,  and  others  do  not.  So,  some  here,  having 
gone  through  several  battles  without  hurt,  had  come  to 
have  a  sort  of  a  belief  in  their  luck  which  made  them 
reckless  and  cool  and  daring.  Others,  from  being  so 
often  under  fire  and  each  time  seeing  danger  take;  new 
forms  (for  even  in  the  killing  and  maiming  no  two  battles 
are  alike),  and  from  the  very  fact  that  they  had  hitherto 
escaped,  argued  that  their  time  would  certainly  come  in 
the  next  engagement,  and  so  went  in  with  that  heaviness 
of  heart  which  such  an  apprehension  must  always  bring. 
And  I  am  persuaded  that  ninety  out  of  every  hundred  of 
the  Twenty-first  that  day  believed,  as  they  had  good 
reason,  that  they  would  be  hurt  in  one  way  or  another. 


god's  war.  ^81 

This  may  have  had  a  tendency  to  make  them  less  reckless, 
but  the}'  veere  certainly  no  le.ss  cool  nor  daring  than  their 
comrades  who  felt  a  sustaining  confidence  in   their  luck. 

To  repulse  a  heavy  charge  seems  a  very  different  thing 
■when  looked  at  on  paper  from  what  it  is  on  the  field  of 
battle.  And  the  old  soldiers  will  understand  that  in  each 
charge  which  the  Twentj'-first  met  that  day  there  came 
a  moment  when  the  pressure  seemed  intolerable  and  not 
to  be  resisted  any  longer;  when  the  heart  would  almost 
give  way  and  the  brain  would  fairly  reel  at  the  thought 
that  after  all  they  must  yield!  How  many  times  that 
feeling  came  to  the  Twenty-first  that  ii&y  cannot  be  told 
(for  who  was  there  to  number  the  assaults  that  were  so 
continuous  that  they  might  almost  have  been  counted  as 
one)  but  whenever  the  supreme  moment  came  there  was 
each  time  found  a  reserve  force  of  stubborn  determina- 
tion to  hold  on  a  little  longer,  and  that  always  won  the 
fight.  Their  assailants  might  fall  back  but  a  little  way 
and  then,  re-forming  and  reloading,  return  to  the  onset 
with  fresh  vigor  and  a  stronger  will  to  succeed,  and  thus 
hurl  themselves  again  upon  the  scant  line  of  blue-coats, 
and  being  checked  again,  would  merely  halt  and  pour 
volley  after  volley  into  the  ranks  of  their  opponents;  but 
in  the  end  the  result  was  always  the  same.  The  Twentj-- 
first  would  hold  on  just  a  moment  too  long,  that  moment 
which  was  always  the  decisive  one;  and  then  the  Con- 
federates would  have  to  turn  their  backs,  retrace  their 
steps, and  re-form  their  shattered  ranks  while  others,  fresh 
and  untouched  as  yet,  were  sent  to  try  to  accomplish 
what  they  had  failed  to  do. 

And  so  it  was  that  the  rebels,  as  was  not  only  demon- 
strated by  the  way  in  which  they  behaved  later  in  the 
day,  but  as  was  also  learned  from  statements  made  by 
Longsti'eet's  men  themselves,  came  to  regard  the  hill 
v>ith  a  feeling  not  unmixed  with  superstitious  dread  and 
awe  as  having  a  mystery  belonging  to  its  impregnable 
strength  and  were  convinced  that  at  least  a  division  of 
well  equipped  troops  held  it.  And  the  little  thin  line 
which  did  hold  it,  for  the  hill  was  large,  and  in  order  to 
cover  it  the  men  were  much  scattered,  and  not  elbow  to 
elbow  by  any  means — the  men  of  the  thin  line,  as  with 


282  GOD'S  WAR. 

each  assault  their  numbers  grew  lesb  even  so  their  cour- 
age monnfp'l  and  they  grew  more  deterniined  with  each 
repulse,  till  they  were  got  at  that  pitch  that  if  they  had 
known  that  all  of  Bragg 's  army  wag  moving  in  mass 
against  them  they  would  have  met  thehost  with  unshaken 
nerves. 

And  thus  the  day  wore  on  till  3  o'clock  and  the  ammu- 
nition was  getting  low,  as  was  natural  when  outside  the 
regiment  tljere  was  no  one  to  see  to  supplies — for  the 
Twenty-first  fought  "on  its  own  hook."  But  there  were 
all  the  elements  of  Providence  (in  one  sense  of  the  word) 
in  the  regiment;  and  cool  men  went  back  from  time  to 
time  for  cartridges  and  returned  in  order  with  the  little 
heavy  lead-colored  boxes  upon  their  shoulders.  The 
peculiar  ammunition  belonging  to  the  revolving  rilleswas 
of  course  soon  exhausted,  for,  of  course  again,  some  fool 
who  had  lost  his  wits  at  the  time  the  right  wing  of  the 
army  was  stampeded  had  taken  it  upon  himself  to  order 
the  wagons  back;  but  it  was  soon  found  that,  although 
the  ball  made  for  the  Enfields  was  a  trifle  large,  yet  it 
could  be  made  to  serve  in  the  revolvers,  and  it  was  ac- 
cordingly so  used.  Only,  in  less  time  than  it  takes  to 
write  it,  the  men  found  that  in  using  the  Enfield  cart- 
ridge the  ba^'onet  must  be  kept  on  the  revolver,  else  it 
would  split  at  the  muzzle.  And  the  men  armed  with 
Enfields  exchanged  them  for  the  more  formidable  weapon 
a  fast  as  the  sad  casualties  of  the  conflict  gave  them 
opportunity. 

It  was  at  3  o'clock  or  a  very  few  minutes  after,  that  it 
was  discovered  that  the  enemy  had  gained  the  hill  on  the 
right  and  were  sending  a  hot  cross  fire  into  the  right 
wing  of  the  regiment.  Union  troops  had  at  one  time 
during  the  day  been  on  the  hill  on  the  right,  but  none 
had  been  there  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  Longstreet  seemed 
to  have  been  so  intent  up  to  this  moment  upon  taking 
the  hill  occupied  by  the  Twenty-first  by  direct  assault  as 
never  to  have  taken  time  to  think  of  flanking  it.  There 
were  no  field  officers  on  the  right  when  this  discovery 
was  made,  and  the  importance  of  doing  something  at 
once  was  so  great  that  Captain  Harvey  H.  Alban  of  Com- 
pany "F, "  the  senior  ojfficer  of  the  right  wing   being  an- 


god's  war.  283 

thorized  by  Major  McMahan  to  use  his  discretion  took 
the  responsibility  upon  himself  of  ordering  the  move- 
ment. It  was  made  with  coolness,  the  men  facing  the 
foe  and  fighting  as  they  slowly  moved  back,  until  they 
had  got  into  the  new  position,  the  right  wing  formed  at 
almost  right  angles  with  the  left;  the  distance  traversed 
was  not  great  and  the  angle  thus  formed  was  not  a  sharp 
one.  The  rebels  assaulted  with  great  vigor,  coming  at 
one  time  up  to  within  thirty  feet  of  the  Union  line. 
How  long  the  right  wing  could  have  thus  held  the  enemy 
need  not  be  speculated  upon,  since  happily,  before  they 
had  begun  to  yield  at  all,  Steedman's  men  came  up  in 
the  most  gallant  and  spirited  charge  that  the  day  had 
seen  and  swept  on  and  over  the  regiment,  driving  the 
enemy  far  back  upon  his  rear,  and  there  held  him  for  the 
better  part  of  an  hour,  during  which  the  Twenty-first 
had  time  to  recuperate,  redress  its  line  and  prepare  for 
more  fighting. 

Finally  Steedman  aligned  himself  on  the  right,  uncov- 
ering the  front  of  the  Twenty-first  and  the  regiment  was 
called  upon  to  resume  business  at  the  old  stand;  which  it 
did  with  an  imperturbable  air  as  if  it  had  never  thought 
of  doing  anything  else;  and  the  old  routine  that  had 
filled  the  day  was  begun  again. 

When,  late  in  the  eveuing,  two  regiments  sent  to  I'e- 
lieve  the  Twenty-first  got  upon  the  ground  they  were 
not  a  moment  loo  soon,  for  the  regiment  was  almost  en- 
tirely out  of  amruunition,  and  was  doing  business  more 
upon  the  good  will  of  the  concern  than  anything  else; 
if  such  a  commercial  phrase  may  be  used  to  designate  the 
wholesome  respect  for  the  place  which  they  had  been 
enabled  to  instill  into  the  bosoms  of  their  adversaries, 
and  which  for  a  time  served  as  a  protection  to  them. 

The  top  of  the  hill  formed  a  sort  of  an  uneven  plateau, 
perhaps  a  hundred  yards  or  more  in  width,  and  sloping 
to  the  north  nearly  to  the  Dry  Vallej'  road,  and  to  the 
east  toward  the  inside  of  the  "Horseshoe. "  When  the 
Twenty-first  was  relieved  it  was  marched  across  this 
plateau  and  over  the  rear-most  edge,  and  put  in  position 
slightly  to  the  right  of  the  reinforcements,  where  the 
men  sheltered  from  fire  lay  down  to  await  developments. 


284  god's  war. 

Longstreet  opened  upon  the  new  troops  hotly  and  fiercely, 
and  soon  word  was  sent  back  to  send  up  such  men  of  the 
Twenty-first  as  had  ammunition,  that  all  the  strength  on 
the  hill  might  be  made  available.  The  few  who  were 
thus  supplied,  went  up,  accompanied  by  officers. 

Very  soon  after  this,  as  the  enemy  in  a  long,  compact, 
and  well  kept  line,  were  discerned  coming  up  to  the 
charge,  paying  no  heed  to  the  frantic  firing  of  the  fresh 
troops,  a  man  was  seen  to  spring  out  in  advance  of  them. 
He  was  unarmed,  clad  in  the  Confederate  uniform  and 
quick  of  foot  as  a  deer.  As  he  approached  the  Union 
line,  swinging  his  hat,  he  yelled  constantly,  "Cease  firing! 
Cease  firing!" 

The  men  looked  at  each  other  in  surprise,  not  knowing 
what  this  might  mean,  and  in  the  uncertainty  thus  en- 
gendered, the  firing  slackened  up  and  had  truly  almost 
ceased  by  the  time  the  daring  messenger  had  reached  the 
Union  commander  to  explain  his  errand  and  give  an  ac- 
count of  himself.  The  substance  of  what  he  had  to  say 
was  that  a  large  body  of  the  enemy  was  coming  up  the 
hill  to  surrender,  and  he  bore  the  request  of  their  com- 
mander that  the  Union  troops  should  cease  firing,  in 
order  to  enable  them  to  do  so.  The  order  was  accordingly 
given;  and  it  is  too  late  to  spend  breath  in  criticizing  the 
judgment  of  the  Union  commander,  whose  name  I  have 
never  heard. 

The  Confederates  came  steadily  up  the  hill,  amid  a 
silence  at  once  grown  so  profound  that  their  measured 
tread  and  the  rustling  of  the  bushes  as  they  marched 
could  be  plainly  heard  although  they  were  still  distant. 
The  messenger  himself  quietly  laid  down  upon  his  face 
behind  a  large  tree,  very  near  to  the  front  of  the  Union 
line. 

It  was  clear  that  he  was  well  chosen.  He  was  perhaps 
not  more  than  twenty  years  old,  rather  tall  but  by  no 
means  awkward,  lean  and  lithe  and  quick  as  a  cat.  As 
he  lay  there  his  face  glowed  with  the  activity  of  his 
mind,  and  his  eyes  darted  hither  and  thither,  taking  in 
every  feature  of  the  scene,  and  on  the  alert  for  whatever 
might  happen. 

Lieutenant  Lamb  of  the  Twenty-first  stood   near  this 


GOD'S   WAR.  285 

keen-eyed  fellow,  and  after  observing  him  for  a  moment, 
said  to  an  officer  at  hand : 

"The  Johnnies  are  not  going  to  surrender.  They  are 
deceiving  us!" 

The  quick  eyes  of  the  envoy  flashed  in  Lamb's  face  for 
an  instant,  and  then  turned  elsewhere. 

"I  reckon  our  colonel  knows  his  business,"  answered 
the  officer  somewhat  stiffly. 

Lamb  looked  again  at  the  messenger,  then  at  the  rap- 
idly nearing  line  of  Confederates,  and  then  back  at  the 
boy  so  coolly  kicking  his  heels  under  the  tree. 

"Well,  it's  my  private  opinion  that  your  colonel's  a — 
fool,"  he  replied,  as  he  turned  away.  "Come  on,  boys, 
let's  go  back — I'm  not  going  to  let  you  be  taken  prison- 
ers!" and  collecting  the  men  of  the  Twenty' -first  he  went 
quietly  back  to  his  regiment. 

He  had  scarcely  got  there  when  voices  were  heard  at 
the  front  in  excited  question  and  reply,  and  then  came  a 
tremendous  volley  followed  by  a  wild  cheer,  and  hun- 
dreds of  men  came  fleeing  back  over  the  hill,  for  their 
lives. 

Observing  that  the  Confederates  who  were  represented 
to  be  so  anxious  to  surrender  were  still  bearing  their 
arms,  the  Union  commander,  so  soon  as  they  came  within 
hailing  distance,  had  called  out: 

"Lay  down  your  arms  if  you  wish  to  surrender!"  a 
i-equest  by  no  means  out  of  place,  one  would  say. 

And  what,  think  you,  was  the  reply  of  those  sons  of 
Belial? 

"Go  to  — ,  you  Yankee ■!" 

Then  followed  the  volley,  the  rush  up  the  hill,  and — 
it  was  taken! 

And  now  we  have  to  be  thankful  for  an  unexpected 
mercj',  for  if  the  Confederates  had  pushed  on  they  would 
have  had  the  Dry  Valley  road  and  got  inside  the  "Horse- 
shoe"— and  where  it  all  would  have  ended,  who  can  tell? 

But  they  did  not  push  on.  A  sudden  access  of  caution 
came  to  sa3'  to  them  that  the  surprising  ease  with  which 
this  stubborn  hill  had  yielded  at  last  was  a  most  suspi- 
cious circumstance,  and  needed  consideration.  It  looked 
"devilishly  like  a  trap!     Who  could  tell?     This  hill  had 


286  god's  war. 

been  defended  all  day  with  a  pertinacity  which  made  it 
a  dreadful  place,  and  now,  all  at  once,  its  defense  was 
abandoned!     What  was  the  explanation  of  all  this? 

So,  thus  debating  and  considering,  the  Confederates 
resolutely  clung  to  the  southern  edge  of  the  plateau,  and 
would  not  budge  a  step  forward. 

Meantime  the  commander  of  the  two  flying  regiments 
called  to  Major  McMaban,  then  in  command  of  the 
Twenty-first,  Lieutenant-Colonel  Stoughton  having  been 
wounded  some  hours  before. 

"Take  your  regiment,"  he  said,  "and  make  a  charge 
and  retake  the  hill!  "We  will  rally  and  re-form  and  sup- 
port you!" 

There  were  not  two  hundred  of  the  Twenty-first  in 
fighting  trim  then  on  the  hill — two  hundred  more  of  them 
lay  there,  however,  dead,  dying,  and  wounded. 

"We  have  no  ammunition — "  began  McMahan,  more 
in  explanation  than  objection. 

"But  you  have  your  orders!"  responded  the  colonel 
pompously,  as  becomes  a  man  who  must  do  something  to 
hide  his  chagrin  at  his  own  blunder 

"Very  well,  sir,"  said  the  major,  and  turning  he  called 
the  men  of  the  Twenty-first  to  their  feet. 

A  few  moments  were  spent  in  searching  the  cartridge 
boxes  of  the  dead  and  dying  strewn  over  the  hillside, 
and  finally  one  round  to  the  man  was  secured. 

Then  the  little  band,  sturdy  and  cool  and  willing,  set 
forward,  showing  much  less  than  a  two  company  front 
to  charge  at  least  three  thousand  victorious  Confeder- 
ates, grimly  waiting  for  them. 

The  first  faint  shades  of  the  evening  were  gathering, 
and  in  the  ravines  the  fleecj'  fog  was  beginning  to  rise. 
The  roar  of  the  day's  long  combat  had  about  ceased,  and 
a  palpitating  silence,  surcharged  with  dreadful  chances, 
hung  over  all  of  the  field,  only  broken  now  and  then  by 
the  sharp  rattle  of  a  half  dozen  muskets,  as  prowling 
parties  of  adventurous  enemies  came  into  contact.  And 
elbow  to  elbow,  without  speaking  a  word,  the  men  of 
the  Twenty-first  pressed  up  the  hill. 

Arrived  at  the  top  they  halted  for  an  imperceptible 
moment  to  redress  their  line;  and  then,  delivering  their 


god's  war.  287 

volley  into  the  faces  of  the  Confederates  who  were  almost 
near  enough  to  shake  hands  with  them,  they  brought 
down  their  pieces  and,  with  a  firm  cheer,  started  on  the 
double-quick  for  closer  work. 

Of  course  it  was  an  utterly  useless  movement ;  and  in 
almost  less  time  than  it  takes  to  write  it,  the  numerous, 
compact,  and  well-equipped  Confederates  had  repulsed 
them  and  sent  them  whirling.  Only  a  man  who  Wiis 
maddened  with  shame  at  his  own  incompetency,  would 
have  sent  them  up  there  on  such  a  desperate  and  useless 
errand.  And  only  troops  who  were  disciplined  to  obey 
orders  so  long  as  they  had  one  man  to  place  in  front  of 
another,  would  have  thought  of  trying  it  a  second  time. 
But  they  did  it.  Closing  up  the  gaps  they  charged  twice 
again,  with  not  even  a  shot  to  fire! 

Before  they  could  rally  to  go  up  the  hill  the  fourth 
time,  the  colonel  commanding  the  two  regiments  that 
had  relieved  them,  sent  word  to  "lie  down  and  await  the 
re-formation  of  his  men,"  when,  united,  a  last  grand 
effort  would  be  made.     But  it  was  decreed  otherwise. 

The  men  lay  down  almost  without  a  word,  and  let  the 
chill  influence  of  the  awful  quiet  about  them  work  upon 
them  to  dishearten  them  if  it  could.  Presently  an  old 
white-haired  man,  straight  and  almost  as  thin  as  a  flag- 
staff, suffering  from  a  slight  wound  but  still  full  of  fight, 
broke  out  in  a  strain  of  heroic  assertion : 

"I  love  the  old  flag!  I  would  be  willing  to  die  for  the 
old  flag!" 

"There!  Let  up  on  that;  this  is  no  Fourth  of  July 
business!"  said  one  of  his  comrades  sharply  but  quietly. 
The  old  man  looked  about  him  and  saw  that  the  men 
approved  his  quietus,  and  he  sat  down  with  no  more 
words. 

Presently,  a  line  was  seen  filing  in  through  the  depths 
of  the  great  ravine  on  the  right — a  long  line  of  soldiers 
carrying  their  muskets  at  a  right-shoulder-sbift,  march- 
ing "left  in  front, "  and  making  no  noise.  The  fog  dis- 
torted them  somewhat,  but  they  seemed  to  be  in  dark 
uniforms,  and  they  came  from  the  direction  in  which 
Steedman's  brigades  had  gone.  As  they  slowly  moved 
along  and  finally  came  to  a  front  facing  the  Twenty -first, 
they  showed  up  at  least  two  thousand  men. 


288  GOD'S  WAR. 

The  men  of  the  Twenty-first  regarded  them  with  a 
curiosity  that  was  almost  listless,  and  calmly  debated  as 
to  who  they  were,  some  maintaining  that  they  were  reb- 
els, who,  acting  with  those  who  had  just  taken  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  were  about  to  fall  upon  cur  right  and  crush 
it;  while  others, arguing  from  the  color  of  their  uniforms 
and  the  direction  from  which  they  came,  were  as  strongly 
impressed  that  they  were  Union  troops.  After  facing  to 
the  front  they  slowly  moved  up  the  hill,  marching  in  line 
with  a  precision  that  would  have  been  creditable  on  a 
grand  parade  or  review;  and  all  that  could  be  heard 
was  the  occasional  word  of  command  or  caution  "Dress 
on  the  center!"  "Steady  there!"  in  a  tone  that  seemed 
suppressed  and  guarded. 

At  last  Captain  Alban  determined  to  know  who  they 
were.  So  announcing,  he  plunged  down  the  hill,  and 
was  soon  lost  to  view. 

Presently,  hearing  nothing  from  the  captain,  a  sergeant 
of  Company  "D"  said  to  his  commander: 

"I  think  I  will  go  and  see  who  they  are." 

"I'd  rather  you  wouldn't,  Bob;  the  thing  looks  very- 
dangerous.     I'm  afraid  we  would  lose  you." 

A  pause  ensued. 

"Well,"  resumed  the  sergeant,  "somebody  ought  to 
take  the  risk,  and  I  might  as  well  do  it  as  anybody.  May 
I  go?" 

"I  don't  like  to  see  you  go,  but  you  may  do  as  you 
please;"  and  shouldering  his  piece  the  brave  young  fel- 
low stepped  blithely  off,  for  all  the  world  as  if  he  were 
going  a-squirrel  hunting  as  he  used  to  do  in  the  Putnam 
County  woods. 

And  so  he  was  lost  to  view,  as  Captain  Alban  had  been ; 
and  from  neither  of  them  came  back  a  word  or  a  cry  to 
tell  what  they  had  found. 

As  Alban  moved  forward  he  was  lost  to  the  sight  of 
his  comrades  some  time  before  he  reached  the  mysterious 
column.  He  pursued  his  way  calmly  till  he  got  near 
enough  to  make  himself  heard  without  yelling;  then  he 
asked : 

"What  troops  are  you?" 

In  an  instant  a  gun  was  put  to  his  head : 


god's  war.  289 

"Git  back  hyar  in  the  rear;  an'  ef  ye  opeti  yer  head 
we'll  blow  yer  brains  out!" 

And  what  had  happened  to  him  happened  in  like 
manner  to  the  sergeant. 

At  last  a  man  in  the  Twenty-first,  raising  his  voice, 
hailed  them : 

"What  troops  are  you?" 

The  reply  came  promptly : 

"Jefif  Davis'  troops." 

Now  as  the  "Union  general,  Jeff.  C.  Davis  had,  in  the 
early  part  of  the  day,  been  on  the  right  with  his  division, 
it  was  thought  at  once  that  the  ghostly  column  was  made 
up  of  his  command;  and  the  men  lapsed  again  into  quiet 
but  eager  watchfulness.  And  so  the  line  came  steadily 
on,  and  the  scene  each  moment  grew  more  weird  and 
impressive. 

Suddenly  from  the  Twenty-first  the  command,  rang 
out,  sharp  and  clear : 

"Fire!" 

Now  who  it  was  that  gave  the  command  or  why  he 
should  do  so,  has  never  been  found  out;  since  there  was 
not  a  cartridge  in  any  man's  gun  or  box;  but  it  had  a 
prompt  and  most  decided  effect;  for,  instantly  the  ap- 
proaching column  lay  down  and  seemed  to  melt  and  dis- 
appear into  the  earth. 

Then,  waiting  for  the  fire  which  they  had  expected, 
and  hearing  no  sound,  the  troop  of  ghosts  sprang  to  their 
feet,  delivered  a  crashing  volley,  and  charged  on  and  up 
wildly  and  furiously. 

It  was  quick  work.  At  least  a  third  of  those  present 
of  the  Twenty-first  were  captured,  with  their  colors,  the 
rest  saving  themselves  by  flight. 

Ten  minutes  afterward  a  lieutenant  of  the  Twenty-first 
found  a  handful  of  the  men  of  his  regiment  on  the  hill  to 
the  left,  where  Brannan's  division  lay.  The  sally  of  the 
enemy  on  the  right  with  its  noise  of  firing  had  awakened 
a  feeble  renewal  of  the  battle  along  the  entire  line.  Meet- 
ing the  colonel  who  had  cheered  the  regiment  on  to 
their  work  in  the  morning  (Moses  B.  Walker  of  the- 
Thirty -first  Ohio),  the  lieutenant  said : 

"We  have  been  driven  from  our  hill  at  last,  sir;  I  have 


290  god's  war. 

six  or  eight  men  here,  we  have  no  ammunition,  but  if 
you  can  use  us — why,  here  we  are." 

"Go  up  to  the  front,"  was  the  reply.  "We  are  out  of 
ammunition,  too,  and  we  are  holding  the  hill  at  the  point 
of  the  bayonet." 

But  before  the  lieutenant  with  his  squad  had  gone  far, 
orders  were  received  to  fall  back,  and  the  entire  division 
was  put  in  motion  toward  Eossville.  Colonel  Walker 
gathered  some  thirty  or  forty  of  the  Twenty-first  to- 
gether and  led  them  back  in  the  sad  retreat  through  the 
black  night  among  the  rugged  hills. 

Shortly  after  daylight  the  regiment,  numbering  less 
than  two  hundred,  and  without  field  oflBcer  or  colors, 
stood  aligned  upon  a  hill  at  Rossville,  when  the  general 
commanding  the  division  came  dashing  up.  He  glanced 
sharply  at  the  feeble  line  and  then  demanded  in  a  per- 
emptory tone: 

"What  troops  are  these?" 

"This  is  the  Twenty-first  Ohio,  sir,"  was  the  response. 

"My  God!  The  Twenty-first  Ohio!  It  cannot  be 
possible!" 

And  at  the  sight  of  the  wreck  of  what  had  been  his 
finest  regiment,  he  seemed  utterly  overcome.  And  as 
his  tears  ran  down  his  face,  the  men  were  touched,  and 
almost  began  to  think  whether  they  would  not  forgive 
him  for  having  gone  off  with  the  rest  of  the  division, 
deserting  them  and  leaving  them  to  their  fate  the  day 
before. 

Note.  — The  position  of  the  Twenty -first  Ohio  on  Sunday 
was  on  Brannan's  right,  and  for  the  greater  part  of  the 
day  this  regiment  formed  the  extreme  right  flank  of  the 
Union  Armj'.  On  the  right  of  the  regiment  loomed  a 
great  hill,  separated  from  that  on  wliich  the  regiment 
fought  by  a  very  deep  ravine  running  back  to  the  Dry 
Valley  road  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  the  rear  of  the  regi- 
ment. Early  iu  the  day  the  only  other  road  upon  which 
the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  could  retreat  to  Chatta- 
nooga, the  Eossville  road,  was  cut  off  by  the  enemy,  so 
that  this  Dry  Valley  road  was  of  the  highest  importance, 
and  it  is  surely  not  saying  too  much  of  the  situation  to 
say  that  the  Twenty-first  held  the  key  to  it.     Had  Long- 


god's  war.  391 

street's  swarming  brigades  OBce  driven  the  regiment 
back  all  would  have  been  lost.  And  during  all  of  that 
day  of  carnage,  from  11  o'clock  in  the  morning  till  5  in 
the  evening,  that  regiment  saw  no  oflQcer  superior  in  rank 
to  its  own  lieutenant-colonel,  and  it  fought  under  but 
one  order,  received  as  it  filed  up  the  hill  in  the  morning 
— and  that  order  was  "Take  position  on  the  hill  and  hold 
it  at  all  hazards."  The  order  was  obeyed  without  ques- 
tion, appeal  for  help,  or  thought  of  yielding,  and  at  a 
cost  of  a  loss  of  more  than  half  the  force  that  went  into 
the  fight.  There  were  sixteen  oflQcers  and  five  hundred 
and  thirty-five  men  on  the  morning  of  the  20th  when  the 
regiment  formed  line  under  fire;  there  were  but  five  offi- 
cers and  less  than  two  hundred  men  for  duty  on  the 
morning  of  the  21st  when  the  shattered  ranks  of  the 
regiment  were  drawn  together  into  the  space  of  a  two- 
company  front. 

The  regiment  fought  without  the  supervision  of  any 
officer  higher  than  its  own  lieutenant-colonel,  who  was 
wounded  and  carried  from  the  field  just  as  his  men 
performed  their  most  important  service. 

Formal  history  has  this  to  say:  "At  3  p.m.  General 
Longstreet,  despairing  of  carrj'ing  the  position  without 
reinforcements,  called  upon  General  Bragg  for  assistance 
from  his  right.  He  was  informed  that  the  troops  of 
their  right  wing  'had  been  so  badly  beaten  back'  that 
they  would  be  of  no  service  on  tbe  left.  Ascertaining 
thus  that  the  right  of  his  own  army  was  in  little  better 
condition  than  the  original  right  of  tho  National  Army, 
Longstreet  hesitated  to  put  into  the  fight  his  reserve 
division,  and  renewed  the  assault  with  the  troops  that 
had  been  repeatedly  repulsed.  In  this  charge,  the  rebel 
General  Hindman,  commanding  on  the  extreme  left, 
gained  a  temporary  advantage,  which  induced  Longstreet 
to  put  his  reserve  division  into  the  action  in  hope  of 
sweeping  the  hills  before  him." 

Eight  here  pause  may  be  taken  to  say  that  the  "ad- 
vantage" which  was  "gained"  by  Hindman  was  in  get- 
ting his  troops  across  the  right  flank  of  the  Twenty-first 
Ohio,  which  was  instantly  met  by  the  swinging  back  of 
the  right  wing  of  that  regiment  as  has  been  described. 


293  god's  war. 

The  historian  continues:  "But  before  he  could  get 
Preston's  large  division  into  line"  (during  which  time 
the  Twenty-first  was  holding  Hindman  at  bay),  "Hind- 
man  was  driven  from  the  hill  above  Villetoe's,  upon  which 
he  had  planted  his  banners,  by  Steedman's  brigades." 

There  is  the  story  in  a  nutshell.  But  for  the  check 
and  repulse  which  Hindman  received  from  the  Twenty- 
first,  he  would  have  been  with  other  divisions  of  Long- 
street's  wing,  across  the  Dry  Valley  road  and  in  the  rear 
of  the  cramped  little  horseshoe  which  Thomas'  men 
formed.  If  the  Twenty-first  had  fought  under  the  eye 
of  its  brigade  or  division  commander  this  would  have 
appeared  long  ago  and  the  true  significance  of  the  work 
performed  by  that  regiment  would  have  long  ago  been 
understood.  But  the  regiment  had  been  abandoned  to 
its  fate,  which  it  took  into  its  own  hands,  and  in  so  doing 
decided  the  issue  of  the  great  conflict. 

The  history  from  which  I  have  quoted  is  Van  Home's 
"History  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland."  The  his- 
torian goes  on  to  say:  "The  reserve  division  was  not, 
howevei',  withheld,  and  Longstreet  renewed  his  action 
with  his  whole  force.  Brannan  had  with  him  about 
twenty-five  hundred  men,  and  on  his  right  were  the  two 
brigades  of  Whittaker  and  Mitchell."  (These  two  brig- 
ados  were  those  referred  to  and  were  under  Steedman's 
command.)  "And  yet  from  his  (Brannan 's)  center  to 
Steedman's  right,  there  were  ten  brigades  of  the  enemy 
in  line,  and  Gracie's  brigade  of  Preston's  division,  on 
the  right,  went  into  action  with  two  thousand  and  three 
effective  men.  With  this  immense  preponderance  of 
strength,  Longstreet  assaulted  with  frequency  and  vigor, 
but  was  continually  repulsed.  .  .  .  Some  unauthor- 
ized person  had  ordered  General  Thomas'  Corps  ammu- 
nition train  to  Chattanooga,  and  many  of  the  division 
trains  had  been  separated  from  the  troops  they  were  in- 
tended to  supply,  and  had  gone  to  the  rear.  On  the 
whole  line,  the  average  to  the  man  was  not  more  than 
three  rounds,  and  in  some  commands  there  was  less  than 
this.  It  was  common  to  search  the  cartridge-boxes  of 
those  who  fell.  Steedman's  train  afforded  a  few  rounds 
in  addition,  but  this  was  soon   exhausted,  and  his  own 


god's  war.  293 

men  were  at  the  last  entirely  destitute.  Whenever  am- 
munition failed  entirely,  the  order  was  given  to  fix  bay- 
onets and  hold  the  hill  with  cold  steel  .  .  .  and 
from  Reynolds  to  Steedmau  the  battle  raged  with  un- 
abated fury ;  but  the  enemy  were  gallantly  repulsed  at 
every  point  until  nightfall,  and  in  the  final  attack  this 
was  accomplished  in  no  slight  measure  with  the  bayonet 
and  clubbed  muskets."  Then,  in  a  note,  comes  the 
credit  that  history  has  given  to  the  fighting  of  the 
Twenty-first  Ohio  on  Sunday  at  Chickamauga,  as  follows : 
"The  heaviest  of  the  losses  in  the  withdrawal  of  the  army 
were  from  captures,  mainly  from  Baird's  division,  which 
left  position  under  a  heavy  assault;  from  Steedman's 
division,  and  the  Twenty-first  Ohio  regiment,  the  latter 
being  between  Brannan  and  Steedman.  This  regiment 
maintained  ground  in  greatest  exposure  during  the 
afternoon,  and  by  its  revolving  rifles  and  gallant  fighting 
made  the  impression  upon  the  enemy  that  its  position 
was  held  by  a  heavy  force.  At  dark,  portions  of  the 
Twenty-first,  the  Eighty-ninth  Ohio  and  Twenty-second 
Michigan,  the  latter  two  from  the  left  of  "Whittaker's 
brigade,  were  captured."* 

General  Longstreet  charged  the  thin  line  drawn  over 
the  great  hill  upon  which  the  Twenty-first  was  posted 
and  which  ought  to  have  been  held  by  a  division,  by 
brigades,  beginning  at  a  few  minutes  after  11  o'clock  in 
the  morning  and  desisting  only  at  nightfall.  When,  at 
last,  he  took  the  hill  he  did  not  take  it  from  the  Twenty- 
first,  but  from  two  regiments  which  had  been  sent  there 
to  relieve  that  organization. 

In  an  interview  with  Colonel  Frank  A.  Burr,  heretofore 
referred  to.  General  Longstreet  uses  the  following 
language: 

"It  is  impossible  for  me  to  recall  a  field  in  the  history 
of  wars  that  deserves  a  higher  place  in  the  records  of 
armed  conflicts  than  Chickamauga.  It  was  a  great,  a 
phenomenal  battle,  fought  upon  a  field  where  the  disad- 
vantage  of   sight,    of   locomotion,  and   opportunity    for 

*  Van  Home's  "  History  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland,"  vol.  i., 
p.  353,  et  seq. 


5J94  god's  war. 

maneuver  was  greater  than  upon  any  battlefield  I  ever 
saw  or  read  of.  .  .  .  Not  many  men  would  have  held 
on  as  Thomas  did.  There  have  been  few,  if  any,  more 
dramatic  incidents  in  war  than  the  stubborn  resistance 
of  Thomas  upon  this  hill.  .  .  .  Thomas'  stand  at 
Chickamauga  was  one  of  those  grand  incidents  of  war 
like  leading  a  forlorn  hope." 


god's  war.  295 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

ONE   SURPRISE   APTER   ANOTHER. 

"De  good  Lawd,  wat's  datchyer?" 

Nobody  will  be  disposed  certainly,  to  find  fault  with  a 
respectable  colored  gentleman  somewhat  on  the  yonder 
side  of  middle  age  for  using  such  language  under  such 
circumstances;  and  if  his  eyes  were  bulging  out  so  that 
you  might  have  hung  your  hat  on  them,  and  his  heart 
was  thumping  at  his  ribs  as  if  to  break  a  hole  in  them, 
certainly  there  was  ample  justification.  It  was  bad 
enough  that  Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy,  in  his  drifting 
search  after  the  young  captain,  should  have  managed  to 
get  himself  between  two  cavalry  brigades  just  as  they 
were  about  to  begin  to  destroy  each  other;  it  was  bad 
enough  in  all  conscience  that  he  should  have  been  ex- 
posed to  the  two  fires  what  time  he  was  fleeing  like  a 
scared  deer  to  a  hiding-place;  it  was  certainly  much 
worse  that,  just  as  he  had  ensconced  himself  behind  the 
big  rocks  in  his  place  of  safety,  a  human  form  in  a  gray 
uniform  should  come  whirling  through  the  air  above 
him  and  fall  with  an  awful  chug  almost  squarely  on  top 
of  him.  And  no  one  will  quarrel  with  him,  I  hope,  that 
for  some  minutes  afterward  he  still  flattened  his  broad, 
black  nose  on  the  hard  soil  of  the  hillside  and  refused 
to  lift  his  head,  dreading  the  vision  that  might  meet  his 
eyes. 

Tom  had  gone  bounding  and  whirling  from  one  jutting 
point  after  another,  and  was  caught  at  by  more  than  one 
tree-top  in  his  fall,  or  he  would  surely  have  been  a  dead 
man  on  reaching  terra  firma.  But  the  clinging  limbs 
of  trees,  while  they  may  have  scratched  and  hurt  him,  so 
softened  the  violence  of  his  descent  as  to  save  his  life. 


296  GOD'S   WAR. 

It  was  bad  enough,  however,  as  it  was,  for  in  falling 
the  back  of  his  head  thumped  against  a  stone  with  a 
noise  like  the  cracking  of  a  bone.  And  so  he  lay  there, 
unconscious  and  scarcely  breathing,  till  Xerxes  Lycurgus 
McCurdy  felt  safe  in  raising  his  head. 

"Do  good  Ian',  what  kin'  o'  fightin'  you  call  dishyer, 
when  dey  shoots  human  folkses  up  into  de  air,  like  dat- 
away?  'Fore  God,  I  done  tuuglit  he  war  gwine  fer  to 
drive  me  inter  dish  yer  grouu',  'deed  I  did!" 

Then  he  sat  for  a  minute  looking  at  the  prostrate  form 
before  him,  and  occasionally  glancing  over  into  the  val- 
ley, up  which  the  battle  was  rapidly  going,  and  away 
from  him. 

"Dar  dey  goes,  leavin'  him  behin'  jis  zif  dey  didn't 
car'  noffin'  for  'im!  An'  I  spec  he's  font  an'  fout  jis  as 
good  as  de  bes'  of  'em.  Datchyers  what  I  calls  cole- 
blooded  selfishness.  He's  young  feller,  too;  straight  in 
de  laig  an'  broad  in  de  shoulder,  and  his  feet  is  small 
like  a  genelman's;  officer,  too,  by  the  clothes  he's  got 
on,  an*  a  lily-white  han',  wid  a  ring — foh  de  love  o'  God, 
whah  he  git  datchyer  ring?  Dat's  de  young  cappen's 
ring,  shuah!"  and  he  sprang  upon  the  prostrate  form 
and  snatched  the  slouched  hat  from  the  face;  and  then 
sat  upon  poor  Tom's  body,  petrified. 

The  noise  of  the  skirmish  drifted  further  and  further 
away,  till,  at  last,  everything  was  quiet  about  him,  and 
the  amazed  darky  had  solved  his  doubts  sufficiently  to 
know  that  his  long  quest  was  ended  and  that  the  next 
thing  to  do  was  to  get  the  boy  into  a  place  of  safety 
where  his  hurts  might  be  ministered  to.  And,  thanks 
to  his  quick  wits  and  the  fact  that  he  had  lingered 
already  long  enough  in  the  neighborhood  to  be  acquainted 
with  its  resources,  in  half  an  hour  he  had  Tom  laid  in  a 
rough  wagon  drawn  by  a  lean  but  willing  steer,  and  was 
pursuing  his  way  into  the  heart  of  the  mountains  to  the 
east,  accompanied  by  a  broad-shouldered  son  of  Ham 
who  prodded  up  the  ox  with  a  sharp  stick  while  he  lis- 
tened with  wondering  eyes  to  'Curg's  story. 

They  had  been  gone  a  full  hour  from  the  spot,  when 
Ethel,  panting  and  weeping,  reached  it.  For  to  get  to  it 
from  the  cabin  in  any  safe  way,  was  to  traverse  intricate 


god's  war.  297 

paths  leadiug  a  long  distance  around  the  base  of  the 
mountain.  As  she  hurried  on,  her  heart  was  filled  with 
nervous  apprehensions  which  were  agonizing,  she  thought, 
in  their  torture;  but  it  was  not  till  she  sat  down  to 
realize  that  he  was  gone  beyond  her  reach,  and  she  knew 
not  whither,  that  she  really  understood  what  agony  and 
torture  were,  although  they  made  her  dumb  and  motion- 
less. 

Meanwhile,  as  the  evening  drew  on,  a  little  log  church 
set  back  from  the  trail  in  the  deep  shade  of  the  hills,  so 
that  a  stranger  would  find  it  with  difficulty,  was  the 
Mecca  toward  which  the  steps  of  a  congregation  of  col- 
ored people  were  tending.  They  slipped  along  quietb', 
singly  or  in  pairs,  in  rare  cases  by  threes  or  fours,  and 
all  seemed  to  breathe  easier  once  they  were  inside  the 
hidden  sanctuary.  When  the  church  was  filled  and  the 
candles  were  lighted  to  glow  ineffectually  in  the  midst  of 
the  darkness  which  seemed  to  be  intensified  by  the  black 
faces  shining  as  if  polished;  and  as  the  beams  sent  quaint 
shadows  dancing  hither  and  thither  like  disembodied 
spirits  with  still  the  substance  of  darkness,  the  old  leader 
raised  his  snow-white  head  from  a  musing  posture  and 
glanced  about  him.  As  he  did  so  every  eye  saw  him  and 
every  breast  heaved  with  a  quick  convulsive  motion, 
promptly  repressed.  For  there  were  rumors  coming  up 
in  the  hills  in  those  days  that  were  like  fugitive  breezes 
of  the  bracing  winds  of  freedom  which  they  knew  were 
blowing  full  and  strong  outside. 

An  inarticulate  moan,  beginning  with  the  old  leader 
and  passing  through  all  the  congregation  till  it  seemed 
almost  a  shout,  broke  the  silence  and  filled  the  little 
room,  although  all  lips  were  closed  and  no  one  spoke. 
Then  the  strange  sound  died  out  and  the  people  sat  silent 
again,  but  with  a  new  look  of  wondering  and  hopeful 
expectation  in  their  feces.  Three  times  was  this  repeated, 
solemnly  as  if  it  was  a  part  of  a  well-established  cere- 
mony, till  it  became  almost  majestic  and  assumed  the 
dignity  of  a  mysterious  invocation. 

Then,  from  a  dried  and  withered  old  crone  who  sat 
near  the  rude  altar,  bent  and  apparently  oblivious  to  all 
that  was  going  on,  broke  forth  a  weird  refrain : 


298  GOD'S  WAR. 

"Go  down  to  Egyp'  Ian' ! 
Tell  Die,  Phare-0, 
Let  my  people  go  !" 

The  melody  was  taken  up  by  the  young  men  and  maid- 
ens, by  the  gray-headed  old  leader  and  the  wide-eyed 
little  child,  and  the  church  rang  with  such  harmony  of 
rich  voices  attuned  to  the  inspiration  of  promise  and 
prophecy  in  the  words  they  sung,  as  might  have  graced 
the  grandest  cathedral  and  given  it  new  sanctity. 

Had  they  not  waited  long  years  for  the  hand  of  the 
Lord,  and  was  He  not  at  last  moving,  coming  up  to  their 
help  against  the  Egyptians  who  held  them  bond? 

Prayer  and  exhortation  followed  the  singing,  and  if 
in  the  zeal  of  their  pious  fervor  they  were  irresistibly 
comic  in  their  crude  ideas  and  strange  misuse  of  words, 
they  were  so  awfulb^  in  earnest,  so  solemn  and  so  rev- 
erent, that  it  is  sure  they  had  a  hold  on  the  Most  High 
and  felt  the  chastened  thrillings  of  communion  with 
Him. 

Minute  by  minute  and  hour  by  hour  they  grew  more 
and  more  exalted  and  inspired,  and  by  turns  they  filled 
the  air  with  loud  and  triumphant  cries  or  crooned  soft 
melodies  of  inarticulate  ecstasy.  It  was  growing  late 
and  the  candles  were  guttering  and  sputtering  toward 
their  going  out,  and  so  low  and  soft  was  the  song  they 
sung  that  they  seemed  almost  to  have  lapsed  into  silence : 

"  Swing  low,  dem  golden  lamps,  swing  low! 
Swing  low,  dem  golden  lamps,  swing  low! 
Swing  low,  dem  golden  lamps, 
Dem  golden  lamps, 
Wid  incense  all  a  burnin' !  " 

when  a  tap  came  at  the  door,  and  instantly  all  was 
hushed.  A  few  of  the  worshippers  raised  their  heads, 
but  for  the  most  part  they  sat  bowed  as  if  held  in  thf! 
thrall  of  an  influence  too  strong  to  be  dispelled.  The 
tapping  was  repeated. 

"Open  wide  de  gates,"  commanded  the  old  crone;  "de 
angel  of  de  Lawd  is  a-knockin' — let  him  come  in!" 

A  thrill  went  through  the  congregation,  filled  with  the 
wild  mysticism  of  their  religion,  but  no  one  moved. 


god's  war.  299 

"Open  wide  de  gates!"  again  commanded  the  old 
woman;  but  no  one  moved. 

"Oh,  ye  of  little  faith!"  she  cried,  as  she  hobbled  to 
the  door  painfully.  "Didn't  I  tole  ye  dat  it  war  de 
angel  of  de  Lawd,  an'  is  ye  gwine  fer  to  keep  him  out, 
when  he's  a-knockin'  an'  a-knockin'?" 

She  flung  the  door  open  as  she  spoke,  and  the  people 
within  shaded  their  eyes  with  their  hands  as  if  to  guard 
against  a  glory  greater  than  they  could  bear. 

"De  angel  of  de  Lawd!"  she  cried  in  a  shrill  treble. 

"Well,  not  azactly,"  answered  'Curg,  standing  on  the 
threshold.  "At  least  not  jis'  yit  awhile,  aunty!  Ef  de 
pra'ars  of  de  righteous  kin  wash  disheyer  nigger  white 
as  wool,  some  day  mebbe  he'll  go  about  fer  to  do  de 
Master's  wuk,  wid  big  white  wings  on,  an'  a  golden 
crown.  But  ef  I  ain't  de  angel  of  de  Lawd  I'se  gwine 
about  lookiu'  like  dishyer,  an'  a-doin'  of  His  wuk  in 
my  everyday  clothes.  Hyar's  de  Lawd's  wuk,  a-layin' 
out  heah  in  the  cyart  what  de  steer  fotch!" 

A  short  explanation  followed,  which  ended  in  action. 
Tom  was  lifted  into  a  hastily  improvised  stretcher  and 
six  of  the  strongest  men  present  bore  him  swiftly  off  over 
the  mountain,  by  a  path  impracticable  to  the  cart.  Of 
course  'Curg  went  with  them,  and  hastened  their  speed  as 
Tom's  frequent  groans  gave  evidence  of  something  like 
returning  consciousness. 

In  half  an  hour  the  barking  of  dogs  showed  that  they 
were  approaching  an  inhabited  spot.  One  of  the  men 
ran  forward  and  soon  quieted  the  noise,  evidently  being 
known  to  the  dogs.  Entering  a  small  clearing  the  party 
stood  before  a  large,  double  log  house,  looming  up  against 
the  side  of  the  hill  darkly.  After  tapping  at  the  window 
and  a  brief  colloquy  with  some  one  within,  a  light  was 
struck  and  the  door  opened.  Tom  was  borne  within  and 
laid  upon  a  bed. 

The  sole  visible  occupant  of  the  house  was  a  swarthy, 
undersized  man,  with  quick,  piercing  black  eyes  and  a 
firm  and  fearless  expression  of  the  face  betokening  a 
warm  friend  and  an  antagonist  to  be  wary  of.  His  iron- 
gray  hair  was  short  and  thick,  curling  closely  to  hia 
head,  but  was  thin  on  top.  His  face  was  covered  with 
a  closely  clipped,  grizzled  beard.' 


300  GOD'S  WAR. 

Lighting  several  candles  the  doctor,  for  such  he  proved 
to  be,  made  a  cursory  examination  of  unconscious  Tom, 
but  finally  gave  it  up,  with  an  impatient  gesture. 

"What  is  the  use?  The  light  is  not  so  good.  We 
will  wait  for  the  daylight." 

"But  he  is  sufferin'  misery,"  said  'Curg. 

"We  will  fix  that!"  and  the  doctor  mixed  a  draught 
which  he  carefully  poured  down  the  boy's  throat. 

"He  will  sleep — no  fear  for  that!  Now  go!  All  but 
you — you  belong  to  heem?" 

"Yessah,  I  'longs  to  him,"  answered  'Curg. 

"All  right,  you  shall  stay,"  and  bundling  the  others 
out  into  the  darkness,  and  bidding  'Curg  to  take  some 
rest  on  the  floor  while  he  watched,  the  doctor  fixed  his 
night-light  and  then  with  a  bundle  of  fine  corn  husks 
and  a  handful  of  tobacco  occupied  himself  with  the 
manufacture  and  consumption  of  cigarettes,  while  he 
patiently  waited  for  the  dawn. 

Before  daylight  came  Ethel  Lynde  was  far  on  her  way 
toward  the  Union  lines,  and  before  noon  she  was  met  by 
Miles  Bancroft  at  a  farmhouse  between  the  two  armies. 

"You  are  prompt,"  she  said  wearily,  as  he  eagerly 
kissed  her.  "You  are  true  to  me?  '  she  added  after  a 
glance  at  his  face. 

"True  to  you?     I  would  go  through  hell  for  you?" 

"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Can  you  doubt  it?" 

"I  may  put  you  to  the  proof — and  sooner  than  you 
suspect,"  she  replied  sleepily.  He  shuddered  and  gazed 
at  her  bitterly. 

"It  is  more  than  you  would  do  for  me,"  he  said. 

"Do  you  think  so?  You  are  mistaken.  When  you 
go  through  that  place  with  the  bad  name  for  me,  I'm 
afraid  I  will  be  at  your  side." 

"Then  it  will  have  no  terrors  for  me — it  will  be 
heaven!" 

"Even  if  I  am  there  in  an  oflScial  capacity?"  and  she 
laughed  with  a  touch  of  scorn. 

"All  I  ask  is  that  you  shall  be  there." 

"I  will  be.     Never  fear!" 


GOD'S   WAR.  301 

To  some  natures  tobacco  is  soporific  in  its  influence, 
and  while  the  doctor  seemed  a  man  not  given  to  yielding 
without  a  struggle,  it  is  the  truth  that  before  the  dawn 
came  he  was  sound  asleep  in  his  big,  roughly-constructed 
easy-chair,  and  it  was  the  tickling  of  a  strong  young 
sunbeam  that  finally  aroused  him. 

'Curg  was  already  awake,  and  evidently  filled  with  an 
anxiety  which  gave  him  no  peace.  Tom  had  scarcely 
changed  his  position  during  the  night.  He  lay  breathing 
heavily ;  and  whether  he  was  sleeping  or  was  in  a  death- 
like state  of  stupor  was  not  easy  to  judge  at  the  first 
glance. 

"With  a  muttered  exclamation  the  little  doctor  set  about 
his  work  at  once.  He  bade  'Curg  kindle  a  fire  and  make 
some  coffee,  while  he  proceeded  professionally. 

There  was  no  wound  or  hurt  to  be  found  save  one  at 
the  base  of  the  brain.  With  scissors  he  skillfully  re- 
moved the  hair  and  then,  for  the  skin  was  only  raggedly 
torn,  he  deftly  laid  back  the  scalp.  After  working  awhile 
at  the  fractured  skull,  he  suddenly  became  excited,  and 
jabbered  to  himself  with  a  volubility  which  filled  'Curg 
with  the  beginning  of  grave  apprehensions.  Finally  he 
raised  his  head  quickly : 

"Here,  you,  negro  man!  He  have  been  wounded 
before?" 

''No,  sah,  only  jist  behine,  I  reckon;  here  on  de  back 
of  de  hade." 

"No^ — no!  You  do  not  understand  me!  Some  other 
time,  long  ago,  he  have  been  hurt  here?" 

"Not  as  I  knows  on,  sah!" 

"You  belong  to  heem?" 

"No,  sah — yes,  sah — he's  de  cappen,  de  young  cappen, 
sah,  an'  I'se  de  cook  foh  de  mess,  sah," 

"But  you  belong  to  hees  family." 

"Nebber  knowed  him,  sah,  tell  jess  befo'  de  battle  at 
Murphysboro,  sah!" 

"He  ees  what  you  call  Confederate?" 

"No,  sah,  'deed  he  ain't,  sah!  He's  Cappen  Tom 
Bailey  ob  de  Twenty -first  Ohio,  sah.  Union  Army,  sah ! 
He  war  missin'  after  datchyer  battle,  sah,  an'  I  jess  foun' 
'im  las'  night,  sah!" 


302  god's  war. 

'Curg  had  pondered  a  little  that  morning,  whether  he 
should  tell  the  truth  about  Tom,  or  should  allow  him  to 
be  thought  a  Confederate  soldier.  For  obvious,  pru- 
dential reasons,  he  had  thought  the  latter  would  be  the 
proper  course,  but  on  the  whole,  and  under  the  influence 
of  his  surprise  at  the  doctor's  sudden  and  eager  ques- 
tions, he  had  concluded  to  tell  the  truth.  And  he  did 
wisely,  in  this  case,  at  least. 

"How  did  you  find  heem?" 

'Curg  told  the  story  briefly  of  the  occurrence  on  the 
hillside  the  evening  before. 

"Ah,  yes,"  said  the  doctor.  "I  hear  the  guns  at  the 
time." 

Then  he  proceeded  with  his  work.  Suddenly,  as  he 
lifted  a  piece  of  the  skull,  a  wonderful  change  came  over 
his  patient.  Tom  threw  his  arms  out  so  violently  that  he 
nearly  knocked  his  good  Samaritan  down;  the  blood 
rushed  to  his  face  till  it  grew  almost  purple  and  his  ej-es 
started  out  of  his  head  in  a  way  that  was  suggestive  of  a 
horrible  thing.  Then  he  clutched  at  his  throat  as  if  try- 
ing to  tear  something  from  it,  and  indeed  did  make  a 
wreck  of  his  collar.  In  his  writhings  he  seemed  to  be 
trj'ing  to  speak,  and  his  friends  eagerly  sought  to  under- 
stand what  he  said,  but  for  a  moment  it  was  an  unintel- 
ligible gurgling.     At  last  he  cried: 

"My  God,  he  is  trying  to  choke  me  to  death — Miles — 
Miles — what  do  you  mean?" 

Then  the  violence  of  his  motions  calmed  down  and  he 
rested,  breathing  heavily,  and  rolling  his  eyes  about 
wildly. 

"Ah,  there  has  been  something  wrong,  something  bad," 
said  the  doctor. 

"Water,  water,  Ethel,  give  me  water,"  moaned  the 
boy. 

"Ethel!"  exclaimed  the  doctor  with  a  start.  "Can  it 
be  possible  that  he  knows " 

But  Tom  had  renewed  his  struggle  with  his  unseen 
adversary,  and  fearing  that  he  might  injure  himself  the 
doctor  bade  'Curg  to  hold  him,  while  he  prepared  and 
administered  another  soothing  draught.  So  soon  as  this 
had  taken  effect  the  surgical  work  was  resumed  and 
finished  and  be  was  left  at  rest  again. 


GOD'S  WAR.  303 

A  fever  followed  and  for  several  days  he  lay  tossing 
and  talking  wildlj',  while  the  doctor,  listening  and  pon- 
dering, never  left  his  side  for  a  moment. 

At  last  Tom  opened  his  eyes  languidly  one  morning 
just  before  the  gray  of  the  dawn  had  warmed  to  color. 
Nothing  was  distinct  to  him,  save  the  whitish  patch 
where  the  window  was,  which  was  the  first  thing  his  eyes 
rested  upon.  He  was  at  last  free  from  his  fever  and 
delivered  from  his  delirium  and  was  slowly  growing 
conscious. 

Far  away  off  in  the  woods  he  heard  the  plaintive, 
prolonged  cry  of  a  bird.  At  first  it  was  repeated  after 
intervals  of  considerable  length,  then  it  grew  more  im- 
portunate and  came  quicker  and  quicker,  querulous  and 
yet  beseeching,  till  its  sadness  seemed  to  enter  his  soul, 
and  his  eyes,  poor,  weak  fellow,  began  to  fill  with  tears 
of  sympathy.  Before  they  had  fairly  gathered,  however, 
there  came  an  interruption,  as  another  bird  answered 
with  a  round,  jolly,  confident  note,  full  of  melody. 
Question  and  reply  passed  swiftly  between  the  two  song- 
sters till  thej'  made  such  a  racket  that  they  waked  up 
their  neighbors,  who  demanded,  each  in  his  own  peculiar 
melody,  to  know  what  the  matter  was,  and  then  all  at 
once  the  whole  forest  rang  with  harmony  such  as  no  man 
without  a  baby  or  a  sweetheart  may  hope  to  hear  excelled 
this  side  of  heaven. 

And  as  if  to  prove  to  Tom  that  it  was  heaven,  just  then 
the  first  glorious  golden  beams  of  the  rising  sun  lit  up 
the  blue  and  purple  sleeping  hills,  and  their  prismatic 
clouds  of  mist  all  around,  and  through  the  open  window 
the  breeze  of  the  dawn  came  breathing  softly,  bringing 
a  thousand  perfumes  which  the  dews  had  been  distilling 
through  the  night  from  the  leaves  and  flowers. 

And  in  his  languor  he  half-closed  his  eyes  and  dreamed 
that  he  was  in  heaven,  and  for  the  moment  felt  that  he 
could  not  desire  a  better. 

But  only  for  a  moment. 

For  soon  there  broke  into  the  concert  of  the  birds 
another  sound  of  whistling,  which,  while  it  was  melodi- 
ous, was  so  peculiar  that  no  one  versed  in  woodcraft 
■would  fail  to  say  at  once  that  it  was  produced  by  human 


304  GOD*S  WAR. 

agency.  And  Tom,  even  in  his  semi-unconscious  state, 
■was  able  to  perceive  its  strangeness,  and  he  opened  his 
eyes  ^Yide  at  hearing  it,  just  as  the  doctor  in  his  bed 
near  by  began  to  move  in  his  sleep  uneasily  like  one  about 
to  wake  up. 

The  strange  call,  or  whatever  it  was,  was  repeated 
several  times,  with  apparently  a  growing  impatience,  till 
at  last  the  doctor  sprang  up,  wide  awake  and  on  the 
alert. 

"'Tis  she,"  he  said  joyously,  "'tis  she,  at  last!"  and 
as  he  hastily  attired  himself,  he  glanced  at  Tom.  Meet- 
ing the  boy's  eyes,  wide  open  and  tilled  with  an  almost 
childish  questioning,  he  approached  him  softly  and  laid 
his  hand  first  upon  his  forehead  and  then  upon  his  wrist. 

"So?  And  it  is  at  last  you,  also,  my  friend?  I  am 
happy  that  I    shall  begin    to  make  your   acquaintance. 


signor 


And  his  voice  was  harmonious  and  soft  and  accorded 
well,  Tom  thought,  with  the  other  voices  that  were  filling 
the  woods  so  sweetly  outside, 

"You  will  excuse  me  for  a  moment,  I  beg,  signor;  I 
have  a  call  from  my — a  friend,  outside,"  and  bowing 
with  grace  and  cordial  dignity  he  opened  the  door  and 
passed  out. 

Leaving  the  door  open  the  good  doctor  gave  entrance 
to  a  stronger  draught  of  the  cool  breeze  and  to  the  sun- 
shine as  well,  and  both  of  these  sweet  influences  of  na- 
ture began  at  once  to  operate  upon  Xerxes  Lycurgus 
McCurdy,  lying  asleep  on  his  pallet  on  the  floor.  Forth- 
with they  fell  to  at  blowing  and  shining  full  in  that 
distinguished  patriot's  face  till  at  last  they  disturbed 
his  repose.  He  resented  this  and  sought  to  prolong  his 
enjoyment  of  that  refreshing  slumber  which  an  approving 
conscience  and  a  good  digestion  (especially  the  latter) 
alwaj's  give,  by  a  change  of  posture  and  a  resolute  clos- 
ing of  the  eyelids  more  tightly. 

But  it  was  of  no  use,  and  the  continued  ministrations 
of  the  sun  and  wind,  aided  by  the  unconscious  unstop- 
ping of  his  ears  to  hear  the  birds  singing,  finally  brought 
him  suddenly  broad  awake. 

Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy  at  once  had  his  wits  about 


god's  war.  305 

him,  and  perceiving  first  that  the  door,  which  was  care- 
fully barred  the  night  before,  was  wide  open,  and  second 
that  the  doctor's  bed  was  empty,  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  ran  to  Tom's  bedside  to  see  if  anything  was  wrong 
there. 

And  whether  there  was  or  not,  he  stood  pondering:  for 
there  was  a  great  change  in  the  boy's  face,  and  the  poor 
darky  trembled  lest  the  bright  intelligence  he  saw  feebly 
asserting  itself  in  Tom's  eyes  was  a  bad  symptom.  And 
while  he  stood  thus  trembling  and  pondering,  Tom,  too, 
was  turning  oyer  a  thing  or  two  in  his  mind.  When  ha 
finally  got  it  settled  to  satisfy  him,  he  made  one  or  two 
ineffectual  efforts  to  speak  before  he  could  ejaculate 
faintly : 

"Hello,  'Curg!" 

And  'Curg  was  so  upset  by  it  that  all  he  could  reply 
was: 

"Hello,  cappen!" 

"How's  Nat?"  asked  Tom,  with  a  great  effort  and  a 
very  thin  and  piping  voice. 

"He  am  all  right,  sah.  He  am  well — dat  is — de  good 
Lawd,  t'ank  de  good  Lawd — oh,  Massa  Cappen  Tom, 
you'se  come  back — you'se  come  back!" 

And  the  faithful  fellow  sat  him  down  on  the  floor  to 
laugh  and  weep  and  praise  the  Lord  while  Tom  lay 
quietly  wondering  what  it  was  all  about. 

Then  there  came  footsteps  approaching  the  door  and  the 
swift  rustling  of  a  woman's  dress,  and  in  an  instant  a 
pair  of  soft  dark  ej'es,  too  elate  as  yet  for  tears,  were 
pouring  divine  balm  into  Tom's  soul  through  his  own; 
and  kisses  were  falling  upon  his  lips  and  face  and  eyes, 
too,  till  they  closed  in  a  swoon  that  came  with  a  mur- 
murous sound  of  caressing  love  jargon — and  then  he 
knew  he  was  in  heaven! 


306  god's  war. 


CHAPTEK   XXIX. 

A  fool's  paradise. 

The  doctor  stood  in  his  doorway,  open-mouthed  and 
round-eyed  at  the  scene  before  him.  Tor,  while  he  had 
told  his  daughter  of  a  stranger  within  his  gates,  giving 
no  names  but  leaving  that  for  a  time  of  wider  leisure, 
she,  on  her  part  had  not  said  a  word  of  that  which  was 
uppermost  in  her  heart,  nor  had  she  the  slightest  notion 
till  she  touched  the  threshold  that  she  had  even  a  remote 
interest  in  the  wounded  soldier  lying  there.  But  when 
she  met  Tom's  glance,  she  went  to  him,  flying. 

"You  will  explain  to  me,  Ethel " 

The  girl  suddenly  placed  her  hand  upon  his  lips  and 
imperiously  bade  'Curg  (who  was  also  standing  by  in 
great  amaze)  to  leave  them.  AVhen  the  negro  was  gone 
out  she  turned  again  to  the  doctor',  who  stood,  comically 
patient.  "You  must  never  call  me  by  that  name,  while 
he  is  under  your  roof ;  nor  let  him  know  by  any  word  or 
sign  that  I  am  j'our  daughter." 

"But  why  is  this  so?" 

"I  will  tell  3^ou  at  another  time,  not  now.  But  pappy, 
dear,  he  is  the  only  man  I  ever  loved — except  you — ex- 
cept you,  dear,  darling  old  pappy — "  she  hastened  to 
add,  being  warned  thereto  by  a  look  that  came  in  the 
little  man's  fond  eyes.  "He  saved  my  life  at  the  risk  of 
his  own." 

"But  that  is  hard " 

"It  must  be  so,  and  you  will  do  as  I  wish,  won't  you?" 

"I  will.     I  always  do. " 

"That  is  my  own  good  father, "  and  she  gave  him  a 
kiss  to  reward  him.  "But  see,  he  is  in  a  swoon;  you 
must  do  something  for  him." 


god's  war.  307 

"No.  I  will  let  heem  alone;  that  is  the  best;  he  is 
weak  yet,  and  as  I  told  you  outside,  has  been  wild  and 
delirious  till  this  morning,  for  many  days.  Ah!"  he 
added  musingly,  "it  is  not  so  strange  to  me  now  as  I 
once  thought  it,  why  that  I  have  been  so  much  interested 
in  heem.  You  love  heem,  Eth — I  mean  signora, "  and 
with  twinkling  eyes  he  bowed  gracefully,  "you  love  heem. 
He  has  saved  your  life.  But  is  it  so  that  he  does  love 
you,  in  return?" 

"It  is  so  that  he  does  love  me  better  than  all  the  world 
beside,"  she  began  gayly;  "poor  fellow,"  she  added 
softly  and  sorrowfullj'. 

At  first,  for  several  days,  Tom  was  too  weak  and  happy 
to  ask  Ethel  how  it  was  that  she  came  to  find  him;  the 
little  doctor  sternly  forbade  conversation  and  the  bo}' 
was  not  in  condition  to  attempt  a  rebellion.  And  indeed 
he  was  content  to  lie  there  calmly,  half-dreaming  and 
half-waking,  knowing  that  she  was  near  him,  and  hold- 
ing her  dear  hand  in  his.  And  thus  dreaming  for  some 
days  during  which  his  wound  was  healing  and  his 
strength  returning,  be  gave  her  ample  time  to  frame  a 
story  for  her  father  as  well  as  Tom,  which  would  have 
satisfied  one  much  more  exacting  than  a  credulous  lover, 
or  a  blindly  doting  parent. 

The  doctor  was  a  man  of  marvelous  skill,  and  his  care 
of  his  patient,  attentive  and  conscientious  at  first,  now 
became  also  anxious  and  loving.  He  gave  his  mind  to 
thought  and  study  as  to  how  he  might  best  hasten  the 
boy's  restoration,  and  time  rapidly  showed  wondrous 
progress,  whether  because  of  this  or  another  reason. 

And  it  was  a  great  day  when,  at  last,  the  doctor  and 
'Curg  bowed  their  stiff  backs  to  carry  Tom  outside  the 
door  and  set  him  under  the  towering  trees  on  the  hill- 
side, on  a  reclining  couch  which  Ethel's  deft  hands  had 
made  luxuriously  comfortable  with  comforts  and  blankets 
and  the  two  great  bear  skins  which  usually  graced  the 
floor  of  her  own  room  in  the  cabin.  And  here  Tom  re- 
newed his  acquaintance  with  life,  and  felt  his  heart  feebly 
leap  within  him  as  his  blood  stirred  at  the  thought  of  all 
that  might  be  before  him.  The  grand  and  impassive 
hills  in  their  massive  strength  held  to  his  lips  a  beaker 
filled  with  strong  wine,  while  they  soothed  him  with  the 


308  GOD*S  WAR. 

uplifting  lesson  of  patience  which  they  teach  to  all  who 
have  eyes  to  see  and  souls  to  understand  and  appreciate. 

Waking  from  a  delicious  doze  which  repaired  the  fa- 
tigue of  his  moving  and  the  excitement  of  his  re-entry 
into  the  world,  his  eyes  fell  upon  'Curg,  standing  by 
Ethel's  seat,  warmly  regarding  him.  Then  he  knitted 
his  brow  for  a  moment,  glancing  from  the  one  to  the 
other,  and  seemed  so  puzzled  that  Ethel  grew  anxious  and 
was  about  to  speak,  but  he  forestalled  her. 

"It  is  queer;  I  cannot  remember;  somehow  you  have 
had  something  to  do  together  with  it  all — ■"  and  then 
his  face  suddenly  cleared.  "Oh,  yes,  I  remember  now; 
he  brought  your  note  to  mo,  in  the  camp  at  Nashville." 

Ethel  started  in  alarm,  and  glanced  quickly  at  the  old 
darky.  She  had  iJaid  but  little  attention  to  him  so  far, 
presuming  that  he  was  some  camp-follower  who  had  at- 
tached himself  to  Tom.  But  if  he  was  her  messenger  to 
Tom  at  Nashville,  she  could  not  guess  how  much  he 
might  know  that  she  would  not  wish  Tom  to  know.  But 
she  was  safe,  as  he  soon  made  known. 

"Well,  de  lan's  sakes  alive!  Why,  of  coase,  of  coase! 
Datchyers  jist  what  it  is,  an'  hit's  been  a  puzzlin'  my 
pore  ole  hade  all  dis  time.  Don'  you  'member,  missy, 
datch  3'ou  gib  me  de  note  to  Caiipen  Bailey  down  to  de 
boahdin'  house  to  Nashville?     Why,  of  coase,  of  coase!" 

This  opened  the  gates,  and  Tom's  mind  ran  liither  and 
thither,  and  this  being  the  first  day  he  had  been  per- 
mitted to  talk — and  he  abused  the  privilege  while  the 
doctor  went  down  into  the  "Cove"  for  an  hour  or  so  to 
see  a  patient  there — he  set  to  at  the  work  of  informing 
himself.  First,  Ethel  must  rehearse  the  story  she  had 
to  tell  to  account  for  her  presence  there,  and  then  'Curg 
had  to  give  him  news  of  Nat;  which  he  did  with  gravity 
and  success,  having  been  privately  instructed  beforehand 
by  Ethel,  in  anticipation  of  this  very  emergency. 

But  the  slow  darky  was  scarcely  allowed  to  finish, 
because  Tom  suddenb'  came  to  a  realization  of  the  differ- 
ence between  his  present  surroundings  and  his  last  clear 
knowledge  of  himself,  which  was  of  the  moment  when  he 
was  stricken  down  in  pursuit  of  the  rebel  colors  at  the 
battle  of  Stone  River. 


god's  war.  309 

Here  was  the  dangerous  place  for  Ethel,  and  she  braced 
herself  to  meet  it.  How  much  did  he  remember  of  all 
that  had  happened  during  and  since  that  dismal  Friday 
night?  She  knew  that  on  the  day  she  lost  him  during 
the  cavalry  skirmish  a  gleam  had  come  back  to  him  for 
an  instant  to  tell  him  that  his  life  had  been  attempted. 
Had  the  dim  recollection  of  that  event  left  him,  or  if  it 
still  remained,  did  he  have  any  knowledge  as  to  who  it 
was  that  thus  sought  to  kill  him?  Did  he  remember, 
would  he  be  able  to  recall  her  own  presence  on  the  scene, 
either  before  or  after  Miles  had  tried  to  choke  him? 
These  and  a  thousand  other  things  troubled  her  and  filled 
her  with  uneasiness.  She  had  carefully  questioned  her 
father  to  know  what  and  how  far  he  would  be  likely  to 
remember  things  that  happened  about  the  time  that  he 
was  first  so  seriously  hurt,  and  in  doing  so  she  had  been 
careful  of  course  to  give  the  doctor  only  such  meager 
outlines  as  would  suffice  to  guide  him  in  answering, 
without  telling  him  that  Miles  had  tried  to  strangle  the 
boy,  or  indeed  even  mentioning  that  misguided  man. 
The  doctor's  replies  had  been  in  the  main  favorable,  and 
at  least  served  to  help  her  to  devise  in  her  own  mind  the 
plan  she  would  pursue  when  Tom  became  himself  again. 

And  so,  hiding  her  fears  as  best  she  might,  she  first 
made  him  tell  all  that  he  could  recall  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

It  was  not  much.  He  remembered  all  about  the  battle, 
and  the  glorious  charge  with  Miller  on  Friday,  and  the 
capture  of  the  battery.  Then  he  told  how  he  had  started 
with  some  half-dozen  men  to  capture  the  rebel  colors. 
There  he  stopped.  He  could  recall  nothing  else  since 
then — -knew  nothing  more  than  that  not  long  ago  he 
opened  his  eyes  in  the  cabin  yonder,  and,  listening  to 
the  birds  had  dreamed  he  was  in  heaven,  and  had  waked 
to  find  himself  in  her  arms  which  was  all  the  heaven  he 
could  wish. 

"Was  that  all  he  could  remember?" 

The  question  sprang  to  her  lips  before  she  thought  of 
what  might  follow,  and  at  once  she  would  have  given 
anything  to  be  able  to  recall  it. 

And  Tom  again  knitted  his  brows  and  summoned  his 


310  GOD'S  WAR. 

•weak  powers  to  the  task,  nor  would  he  heed  the  little 
playful  efforts  she  was  making  to  have  hiin  drop  the 
matter. 

Very  slowly  it  came  to  him ;  a  vague  and  dim  memory 
of  a  struggle  for  his  life  with  some  one  who  was  sitting 
or  lying  on  him  and  choking  him  cruelly.  And  strangely 
enough  it  seemed  to  him  that  the  man  who  attempted 
this  villainy,  was  an  old  friend,  Miles  Bancroft.  Where 
it  was  or  how  it  happened  he  had  not  the  faintest  notion. 
It  must  have  been  a  dream. 

A  great  load  was  off  her  mind,  and  Ethel  laughed,  and 
said  that  he  must  not  confound  what  had  really  happened 
with  any  of  the  visions  that  must  come  to  any  one 
struggling  with  awful  wounds  like  those  which  her  own, 
true,  brave  darling  had  wrestled  with.  And  kisses  and 
love  jargon  followed;  signifying  much  sweet  pleasure  to 
him,  but  testifying  to  her  consciousness  the  great  relief 
she  felt  that  he  knew  so  little  and  doubted  even  that. 

"But  who  was  Miles  Bancroft?"  she  asked. 

"He  was  the  captain  of  my  company  in  the  three- 
months'  service,  and  was  wounded  at  the  battle  of  Bull 
Run.  When  the  regiment  reorganized  for  the  three 
years'  service,  he  was  not  able  to  accompanj'  them,  but 
was  subsequently  appointed  to  the  general  staff  and  was 
at  department  headquarters — why,  don't  you  rememberj 
he  was  provost-marshal  at  Nashville  when  you  got  there 
and  I  had  to  report  your  arrival  to  him?  Didn't  he  call 
on  you  to  question  you?     That  was  the  man." 

"Oh,  yes,  I  do  remember,  a  stupid  fellow  came  to  see 
me  that  morning;  but  I  paid  no  attention  to  him.  I  an- 
swered his  questions  and  was  glad  when  he  left  me  so 
that  I  could  go  on  thinking  about  you.  I  scarcely  looked 
at  him,  I  had  your  face  always  before  my  eyes!  Ah!  do 
you  know  when  I  first  began  to  love  you?" 

"No.     Tell  me  when  it  was." 

"It  was  when  that  great,  rude  Nat  found  blood  on  your 
wrist  and  told  me  to  faint  in  his  arms  because  one  of 
yours  was  wounded.     Don't  you  remember?" 

"My  darling;  and  you  loved  me  from  that  moment?" 

"From  that  moment!     And  you?" 

"I?  I  loved  you  from  the  moment  when  you  fainted  in 


god's  war.  311 

my  arms  as  I  lifted  you  from  your  horse  on  the  pike,  that 
night  when  those  cowardly  brutes  were  firing  at  you!" 

A  mantling  blush,  hot  and  uncomfortable,  covered  her 
face  as  ho  spoke,  and  she  resumed  her  loving  caresses 
with  redoubled  vigor  to  hide  the  shame  that  lowered  over 
her  features.     Then  she  said  : 

"But,  Captain  Bancroft — were  you  not  always  good 
friends — were  you  ever  angry  with  each  other?" 

"Lieutenant-Colonel  Bancroft  now,  Ethel.  Yes,  we 
were  always  good  friends.  He  is  a  good,  brave,  honest, 
true  man.     It  was  a  queer  dream,  wasn't  it?" 

"Yes,  it  was;  especially  if  you  never  had  any  trouble. " 

"No,  we  never  had  any  trouble — unless — well,  yes,  we 
did  once  come  near  being  foes;  but  the  matter  was  soon 
adjusted,  and  he  certainly  could  bear  me  no  ill-will,  for 
it  turned  out  all  in  his  favor  after  all,  and  all  bad  for  me. 
But  what  am  I  saying?  If  it  hadn't  turned  out  as  it  did 
you  would  never  have  been  so  dear  to  me — I  could  not 
have  loved  you." 

"Oh,  Tom,  Tom!  It  was  a  love  rivalry;  and  you  always 
said  you  had  never  loved  but  me!" 

"And  I  said  the  truth.  I  imagined  I  was  in  love  once 
before  I  saw  you,  but  I  wasn't.  It  was  nothing  but  a 
foolish,  boyish  fancy,  and  thej'oung  woman  very  properly 
gave  me  the  mitten,  for  she  loved  Miles  and  he  loved  her, 
and  he  was  a  man  who  could  love,  and  of  whose  love  any 
woman  might  well  be  proud.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it, 
for  you  have  a  right  to  know;  and  besides  I  always  tell 
you  everything." 

"That's  right,"  answered  Ethel,  with  a  queer  feeling 
at  her  heart  which  made  her  resentful  and  half-angry. 
"Tell  me  all  about  it,  and  then  I  can  judge  whether  this 
'Miles, '  as  you  call  him,  could  have  had  any  cause  to 
choke  you,  even  in  your  dreams." 

And  so  Tom,  holding  her  tightly  by  the  hand  tne 
while,  told  her  all  about  his  boy-love  for  Margaret,  and 
of  the  scene  in  the  judge's  parlor  that  April  afternoon. 

She  let  her  hand  lie  in  his  and  tried  to  restrain  the 
convulsive  working  of  her  fingers,  but  she  kept  her  face 
averted  till  he  had  finished.  And  then  a  little  silence 
fell  upon  them. 


3ia  god's  war. 

"Whj'  do  you  turn  your  face  away?"  he  asked  at  last. 
"Surely,  Ethel,  you  are  not  jealous  of  such  a  boy's  fool- 
ishness as  that?" 

"Oh,  no!  Only  I  was  thinking  whether  it  would  not 
have  been  better  if  she  had  loved  you,  darling.  Of 
course  it  would  have  been  hard  for  me,  but " 

"Why,  what  are  you  thinking  of?  How  foolishly  you 
talk!  Why,  she  was  ever  so  much  older  than  I.  She 
was  three  years  my  senior."  Again  the  hot  flush  passed 
over  the  girl's  face,  but  Tom  did  not  see  it.  "And  I 
never  could  have  loved  her  as  I  do  you,  sweetest  and  best 
and  loveliest  and  dearest  of  women!" 

And  then  Tom,  weak  as  he  was,  showed  himself  no 
bungler  at  the  art  of  love  making,  for  a  few  moments. 
At  last  Ethol  recovered  her  breath  and  smoothed  her 
towsled  black  hair  and  asked : 

"This  Margaret  Henderson,  does  Colonel  Bancroft  still 
love  her,  and  does  she  still  love  him?" 

"Oh,  yes!  Why,  they  were  just  made  for  each  other. 
They  are  a  splendid  pair,  and  they  are  to  be  married  so 
soon  as  the  war  is  over.     It  is  all  settled." 

"How  do  .vou  know?" 

**Why,  before  the  battle  of  Stone  Kiver  they  wrote 
me  from  home  and  told  me  all  about  it;  that  they  were 
engaged;  that  the  old  judge  had  given  his  consent,  only 
stipulating  that  they  should  not  be  married  till  the  war 
was  over.  And  I  saw  a  ring  he  wore;  I  knew  it  was  one 
she  gave  him.     It  was  a  plain  gold  ring." 

Quick  as  a  flash  Ethel  slipped  a  ring  off  her  finger  into 
her  pocket.  "But  why  should  I  fear?"  she  asked  her- 
self. "One  plain  gold  ring  is  just  like  another,  and  he 
could  suspect  nothing.     Poor,  poor  dear  Tom!" 

Then  she  roused  herself  and  turning  to  him  quickly 
she  said : 

"I  can  tell  you  more  about  yourself  and  what  has  hap- 
pened to  you  during  the  last  six  months  than  you  know. " 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"Do  you  suppose  I  could  rest  content  there  in  Nash- 
ville, seeing  your  name  in  the  papers  among  the  missing, 
and  do  nothing  to  try  to  save  you?" 

"And  you — what  did  you  do?" 


GOD*S  WAR.  313 

"I  did  nothing  very  wonderful.  I  went  to  the  com- 
mander of  the  post  at  Nashville  and  got  a  pass  from  him, 
telling  him  that  my  brother  was  lying  dangerously 
wounded  at  Murfreesboro.  I  told  him  that  my  brother 
belonged  to  an  Illinois  regiment  and  that  my  name  was 
Eliza  Landers.  Don't  frown!  Do  you  suppose  he  would 
have  given  me  a  pass  if  he  had  suspected  that  I  was  a 
Southern  girl?  When  I  got  to  Murfreesboro  I  got  per- 
mission from  General  Eosecrans  to  go  and  look  for  you. 
I  told  him  I  was  your  sister — and  when  I  broke  down 
weeping,  for  I  couldn't  help  it,  the  stern  old  general 
had  tears  in  his  eyes  too,  and  he  said:  'Don't  cry — don't 
cry — little  girl!  Of  course  you  shall  have  your  pass, 
and  if  those  rebels  don't  let  you  have  your  brother  they 
have  harder  hearts  than  I  think  they  have.'  And  so  he 
sent  an  escort  with  me,  away  beyond  the  lines — I  had 
old  Selim  still — and  after  many  days  I  found  yo\x  in  a 
hospital  at  Shelbyville.  You  were  terribly  wounded ; 
your  skull  had  been  fractured  just  where  it  is  injured 
now,  and  that  is  why  you  lost  your  memory.  The  doctor 
here  has  explained  it  all  to  me.  It  was  broken  and 
pressed  upon  that  part  of  your  brain  that  you  remem- 
ber with,  darling,  and  you  were  unconscious  for  days, 
even  after  I  got  you.  Then  besides,  you  had  a  bayonet 
stab  through  the  lungs " 

"By  George,  I  remember  that!" 

"Put  your  hand  there  and  you  will  feel  the  scar. 
Well,  the  surgeon  in  charge  of  the  hospital  was  glad  to 
get  rid  of  you,  and  I  took  you  off  to  the  home  of  a  friend 
in  the  mountains.  And  there  we  nursed  you  back  to 
health  again,  only  you  were  greatly  changed,  and  were 
not  yourself.  You  remembered  nothing,  and  didn't  even 
know  me,  your  little  sweetheart,  who  was  breaking  her 
heait  over  you!" 

"And  you  saved  my  life?" 

"I  suppose  so,  for  I  really  think  you  would  have  died 
if  I  had  left  you  where  you  were." 

"Oh,  my  darling,  how  can  I  ever  repay  you?" 

"Didn't  you  save  my  life  first?"  she  asked;  but  she 
turned  her  head  as  she  spoke. 

"Then  God  has  certainly  given  us  to   each  other," 


314'  GOD'S  WAR. 

said  Tom  deeply  and  solemnly,  as  he  drew  her  to  his 
breast;  "we  can  never  doubt  after  this  that  He  Himself 
has  made  us  for  each  other,  and  brought  us  so  wonder- 
fully and  mysteriously  together,  can  we?" 

"No,"  she  answered  faintly,  as  her  face  grew  pale  and 
her  hands  turned  cold. 

"Oh,  my  darling,  it  makes  me  very  happy;  my  happi- 
ness is  so  great,  so  solemn,  and  almost  awful,  that  I 
tremble  at  it!" 

She  did,  indeed,  tremble;  and  at  last  broke  into  a  wild 
storm  of  sobs,  hiding  her  face  on  Tom's  shoulder.  And 
he  strove  to  soothe  and  quiet  her,  patting  and  kissing 
her  cheek  and  hair,  and  murmuring  his  noble,  loving 
faith  in  her,  till  at  length  she  could  endure  it  no  longer. 
"Oh,  my  God,  let  me  go!"  she  cried.  "Let  me  go!  I 
must  be  alone,  a  little  while,"  and  she  fled  from  him. 

"Poor  child,"  said  Tom  to  himself,  as  he  watched  her 
out  of  sight.  "She  cannot  bear  so  much  joy;  it  almost 
kills  me!  My  noble,  pure,  true  Ethel!  She  has  gone  to 
thank  God  on  her  knees,  as  I  would  like  to  do  if  I  could 
only  find  the  strength.  But  I  will  pray  as  I  am^ — He  will 
hear  me  just  as  well — especially  as  my  prayer  will  go  up 
with  my  darling's  to  His  ear!" 

And  covering  his  face  with  his  pale,  thin  hand,  and 
while  the  tears  poured  down  his  face,  the  poor  boy  prayed 
earnestly  and  long  and  joyfully,  and  thanked  God  for 
this  great  blessing  and  asked  His  help  that  he  might 
show  himself  worthy  of  it,  if  such  a  thing  might  be. 
And  then  he  sat  rejoicing  with  an  ecstasy  that  ennobled 
him,  till  Ethel  came  back  to  him. 

When  she  returned  she  sat  quietly  at  his  feet  and  re- 
sumed the  details  of  the  story  of  tlie  period  of  his  dark- 
ness, changing  the  facts  from  time  to  time  as  the  require- 
ments of  her  deception  made  it  necessary.  But  in  the 
main  the  story  that  she  told  him  was  true.  And  then 
she  called  'Curg  to  take  up  the  narrative  where  she  left 
off,  till  at  last  Tom  could  account,  or  thought  he  could, 
for  the  mouths  that  had  passed  since  a  rebel  musket 
knocked  him  insensible  at  Stone  River. 

Naturally  satisfied  on  these  points,  he  wanted  news 
from  the  army.     "Where  was  it  and  what  had    it  done? 


GOD'S  WAR.  315 

But  here  he  was  checked.  The  good  doctor  coming  on 
tbo  scene  found  his  patient  grown  feverish  and  excited 
and  with  other  dangerous  symptoms  not  present  when  he 
left  him  in  the  morning.  So  he  was  conveyed  back  to 
his  bed  under  strict  injunctions  neither  to  talk  nor  listen 
to  others,  but  to  go  to  sleep.  And  to  the  end  that  he 
might  lose  no  time  the  doctor  gave  him  to  drink  a  cool- 
ing cup,  which  soon  charmed  away  his  senses;  and  then 
Ethel  took  her  hand  away  from  his  and  left  him. 

Other  long  weeks  of  grand  summer  weather  passed 
quietly  and  happily  and  quickly  for  Tom,  during  which 
he  throve  and  grew  stronger  and  more  and  more  himself 
every  day. 


316  gud's  war. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE   INEVITABLE. 

From  the  hour  that  Miles  Bancroft  met  Ethel  Lynde 
in  the  boarding  house  at  Nashville  when  he  went  to  in- 
terrogate her  lis  was  his  duty  as  provost-marshal,  he  was 
a  lost  man.  The  beauty  of  the  woman  at  first  attracted 
hitn  as  it  would  have  attracted  any  man  in  whose  veins  ran 
v.'uim  blood.  The  soft,  low,  tinkling  voice,  exquisitely 
iiunlulated  and  just  what  was  to  bo  looked  for  from  her 
red-lipped,  child-like  mouth,  added  to  her  loveliness  of 
lace,  eyes,  and  figure.  And  Miles  found  himself  very 
much  interested  as  was  natural.  But  he  never  would 
liave  dreamed  of  loving  her  if  slie  had  not  exerted  herself 
to  compel  him  to  do  so. 

She  had  come  to  Nashville  with  a  purpose  very  clearly 
outlined,  and  she  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  her  business. 
She  had  sought  her  employment  first  because  she  was 
actually  a  strong  adherent  of  the  cause  of  the  South  and 
was  eager  to  do  something  to  help  secure  the  success  of 
the  Confederate  arms;  and  secondly  because  she  longed 
for  excitement  and  distraction  from  sadness  and  grief 
over  her  own  life  Avhich  had  been  marred  by  her  own  acts 
in  following  her  own  inclinations  in  her  own  willful  way. 
She  was  not  as  bad  a  woman  as  she  was  capable  of  be- 
coming; but  she  was  bitter  enough  to  be  reckless  of  her 
life,  which  she  held  much  Ifss  dear  even  than  what  of 
honor  and  womanliness  still  remained  to  her. 

She  had  lived  long  enough  and  been  successful  enough 
to  have  confidence  in  her  ability  to  cbarm  and  fascinate; 
and  she  thought  that  it  was  a  proof  of  her  power  that 
Avithout  much  difficulty  she  obtained  the  employment  she 
Bought,  with  privileges  sufficiently  elastic  to  make  every-. 


god's  war.  317 

thing  easy  to  her.  And  she  had  pursued  heremplo.vinuet 
for  some  months  iu  the  western  part  of  Tennessee  and  iu 
Mississippi  before  she  met  Tom  and  Miles  Bancroft. 
Once  in  a  mouth  or  so,  as  she  tired  of  her  uild  life,  she 
sought  her  father  iu  the  mountains  and  there,  free  from 
any  sort  of  annoyances  (for  she  had  so  long  been  her  own 
mistress  and  had  her  own  way,  that  the  old  man  forebore 
even  to  question  her)  she  remained,  till  quiet  communion 
Avith  the  pure  and  iuuoceut  pleasures  which  nature  could 
afford  her,  soothed  and  tranquillized  her.  Then  her  old 
gnawing  pain  would  start  to  life  once  again,  and  she 
would  fly  back  to  the  excitements  of  her  perilous  occupa- 
tion for  relief. 

With  a  dramatic  instinct  that  was  often  useful  to  her 
she  arranged  the  manner  of  her  entry  within  the  Union 
lines;  and  planned  it  to  deceive,  as  it  did;  for  of  course 
everybody  believed  her  story  when  it  was  supported  by 
that  of  Tom  and  his  men,  who  testified  to  the  pursuit  and 
the  shots  that  were  fired  after  her  as  she  escaped  from 
the  rebels.  Her  coquettish  and  least  harmful  instincts 
were  aroused  when  she  met  Tom  and  saw  how  much  he 
admired  her.  She  was  old  enough  to  feel  greatly  flattered 
at  awakening  such  warm  feelings  in  so  young  and  so 
handsome  a  man.  But  she  soon  found  that  he  was  lova- 
ble and  pure,  such  a  sweetheart  as  is  not  to  be  had  every 
day ;  and  even  if  she  had  had  anything  to  gaiu  by  getting 
him  within  her  toils,  her  more  dangerous  nets,  she  real- 
ized very  speedily  that  her  own  heart  would  not  permit 
her  to  do  so. 

There  was  something  touching  iu  the  blind,  unques- 
tioning, chivalric  trustfulness  of  the  boy,  who  accepted 
all  that  she  offered  at  full  face  value  and  was  made  happy 
by  it.  Besides  she  could  make  nothing  out  of  him  if  she 
would  have  done  so ;  and  again  would  not  have  done  so 
if  she  could.  If  it  is  possible  for  such  a  woman,  under 
such  circumstances  to  love  any  human  being  purely  and 
unselfishly,  as  other  women  do,  she  so  loved  Tom ;  and 
she  would  have  given  up  her  life  before  she  would  have 
put  him  in  danger  by  using  him  or  information  he  could 
give  her,  for  the  benefit  of  her  emploj'ers. 

But  with  Miles  Bancroft  it  was  different.     Here  was  a 


318  god's  war. 

man  on  the  general  staff,  of  rather  high  rank  and  [likely 
to  be  intrusted  with  knowledge  of  affairs  which  was  of  a 
confidential  nature  and  therefore  useful  to  the  Confeder- 
ates. And  then  he  was  a  man ;  and  of  about  her  own 
age;  and  just  the  sort  of  a  man  for  her  to  wheedle  and 
use  and  she  could  take  pleasure  in  doing  so.  Aside  from 
business  considerations,  which  were  of  course  paramount, 
she  felt  the  co<iuette's  natural  desire  to  conquer  him  and 
have  him  in  her  leading  strings. 

She  had  not  talked  with  him  five  minutes  before  she 
realized  this;  and  she  at  once  brought  all  her  skill 
into  play  to  seduce  him  from  not  only  his  duty  as  a 
soldier  but  to  any  sweetheart  he  might  have  away  up 
North,  as  well.  And  her  success  was  so  easy  and  speedy 
that  at  his  first  visit  she  almost  despised  her  victory;  and 
was  fairly  reluctant  to  give  him  that  lingering,  clinging 
pressure  of  her  hand  at  parting  with  him  the  first  time, 
which  sent  him  off  back  to  his  quarters  struggling  and 
fighting  a  fierce  battle  with  his  sense  of  honor  and  his 
love  for  Margaret. 

On  his  part,  Miles  went  to  call  on  this  new  refugee  as 
in  the  discharge  of  a  disagreeable  task  that  had  fallen  upon 
him  but  which  he  would  gladly  have  escaped.  And  as 
he  stepped  into  the  odorous  hall  of  the  boarding  house 
he  determined  to  make  his  visit  as  brief  as  a  conscientious 
performance  of  his  duty  would  permit.  But  as  he  came 
out  he  acknowledged  to  his  accusing  conscience  that  he 
had  waste  i  the  best  part  of  half  a  day,  and  was  angry 
with  himself  for  having  done  so;  while  his  memory  ling- 
ered with  a  delicious  pleasure  over  the  little  incidents  of 
the  hour  just  gone  by;  the  shy,  appealing  looks  from 
melting  black  eye  which  seemed  not  altogether  dusky 
with  concern  for  herself,  awaj'  from  her  home  and  sur- 
rounded by  strangers  in  a  rough  garrison  town  filled  with 
soldiers,  but  also  almost  pleading  with  a  handsome  man 
not  to  press  his  advantages  too  far,  not  to  impose  upon 
the  innocence  and  ignorant  helplessness  of  a  poor,  young 
girl  in  circumstances  which  should  so  strongly  appeal  to 
his  chivalric  consideration  ;  these  and  a  thousand  other 
little  things  did  memory  constantly  put  before  his  eyes, 
treacherously  aiding  the  devil  to  thrust  Margaret  Hen- 
derson's face  far  in  the  dim  background  meanwhile. 


GOD'S  WAR.  319 

He  did  not  surrender  %\ilbout  a  sort  of  a  struggle. 
After  his  first  visit  be  did  Jiot  call  for  a  day  or  two, 
•wrestling  with  an  almost  irresistible  inclination  to  do  so, 
how'ever,  and  trj-iiig  to  strengthen  himself  and  his  good 
resolutions  by  writing  long  and  unusually  affectionate 
letters  to  the  loving  girl  at  home  who  was  praying  for 
him  hourly,  and  trusting  him  completely,  and  suffering 
agonies  of  apprehension  for  his  safety ;  but  never  once 
dreaming  of  the  real  danger  to  which  he  was  exposed  and 
which  if  not  overcome  would  perhaps  ruin  her  own  life 
as  well  as  his. 

But  Ethel  wasted  no  time;  when  Miles  did  not  come 
she  sent  hira  a  cunningly  devised  note  begging  his  aid 
in  some  matters  of  petty  annoyance;  and  after  his  second 
call  she  had  no  further  trouble  with  him — save  to  keep 
him  away  long  enough  to  permit  her  to  receive  poor  Tom. 

As  rapid  as  the  darting  of  a  bird  from  the  tree-top  to 
the  ground  beneath,  was  Miles  Bancroft's  fall;  and  he 
plunged  headlong  into  the  intoxicating  depths  of  a  guilty 
passion;  and  seemed  to  change  his  very  nature,  almost 
as  quickly. 

He  had,  or  he  thought  he  had,  onlj'  two  courses  open 
to  him.  He  could  act  honorably  and  secure  his  release 
from  Margaret,  and  what  was  of  more  importance,  give 
her  freedom  from  a  man  who  was  no  longer  worthy  of 
hex',  and  then  abandon  himself  to  the  delirium  of  this 
unworthy  delight  which  had  come  into  his  life;  or  else 
he  could  go  on  pretending  to  Margaret  to  be  true  to  her, 
holding  her  to  her  plighted  promises  and  taking  the 
chances  that  no  evil  save  that  which  blackened  his  own 
soul,  and  which  he  thought  he  might  conceal  forever, 
should  come  out  of  it  to  anybody. 

And  he  chose  the  latter;  for  two  reasons.  First,  he 
lied  to  himself  and  pretended  to  believe  it,  when  he  said 
that  it  was  a  thing  that  happened  to  every  man,  almost, 
born  with  any  heart  or  blood  in  him  ;  and  if  other  men 
could  go  through  with  such  things  without  taking  any 
special  harm,  why  could  he  not  also?  The  second  rea- 
son he  urged,  when  his  better  nature  would  not  be  still, 
and  to  quiet  it;  and  that  was  that  he  bad  become  ensnared 
and  it  would  require  all  the  strength  he  could  bring  into 


320  GOD'S   WAR. 

play  to  enable  him  to  escape  the  siren's  toils;  and  surely 
the  knowledge  of  his  relations  to  the  noble  girl  in  Clay- 
ton, would  be  one  of  the  most  powerful  aids  to  redemp- 
tion he  could  possibly  have. 

And  then,  as  he  drifted  on,  further  and  further  away 
from  the  shore  where  Margaret  stood,  and  growini; 
weaker  and  less  able  to  even  go  back  to  her,  he  became 
harder  and  more  seliish,  and  said  to  himself  that  in  the 
very  nature  of  things  this  could  not  last  long,  and  it 
would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  the  judge's  money  and 
lands  to  fall  back  on,  and  begin  the  career  which  his 
ambition  pointed  out  to  him,  long  after  this  dark-eyed 
witch  had  passed  out  of  sight  on  her  downward  course. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  first  intimation  he  ever  had  of 
her  character  as  a  6i\v  he  got  on  that  black  Friday  night 
at  Stone  River,  and  then  he  found  himself  too  far  gone, 
too  much  involved  to  even  think  of  turning  back.  He 
loved  the  woman  so  madly  and  desperately  that  he  would 
have  sacrificed  everything  to  be  enabled  to  share  any 
part  of  her  life.  And  he  often,  afterward,  as  he  felt  the 
galling  humiliation  of  the  chains  that  bound  him,  bitterly 
reproached  himself  that  he  had  not  killed  himself  by 
Tom's  side  on  the  battlefield  as  he  started  to  do.  And 
yet,  notwithstanding  the  smart  he  felt  as  he  acknowledged 
to  himself  that  her  anxiety  and  pleading  that  he  should 
not  take  his  own  life  came  not  from  any  love  for  him, 
as  she  half-pretended,  but  from  a  desire  to  keep  him 
and  make  further  use  of  him;  despite  all  this,  be  could 
not  overcome  his  meaner  self,  he  could  not  make 
up  his  mind  to  leave  her.  And  he  clung  to  her, 
and  followed  and  obeyed  her  like  a  dog,  and  lent  his 
own  resources,  both  of  mind  and  the  information  he 
came  into  possession  of,  to  aid  her  in  her  successful 
career  as  a  spy  in  the  emploj-  of  the  enemy. 

So  abject  did  he  become.  And  the  more  he  realized 
his  abjectness  the  more  he  became  discouraged,  until  at 
last  he  felt  that  nothing  but  death  could  release  him. 
And  he  waited  for  that  release — if  it  came  in  his  death 
that  ended  all;  if  it  came  in  hers,  then  be  would 
go  back  to  Margaret  and  try  to  make  amends  by  leading 
a  decent  life  for  the  wrongdoing  he  had  been  guilty   of. 


god's  war.  321 

There  vrere  times,  indeed,  when  he  dared  to  oppose 
his  will  and  stubbornness  to  her  wishes  and  inclinations, 
but  this  was  only  when  he  was  in  liquor.  And  his  resort 
to  whisky  as  a  means  of  benumbing  his  conscience  and 
solacing  his  grief,  grew  after  a  time  to  be  a  habit,  fre- 
quently recurring  to  intoxication,  but  only  when  he  had 
respite  from  oflScial  duties.  At  such  times  he  grew  fierce 
and  arx'ogant;  frightening  Ethel  very  much  at  first,  till 
she  learned  to  go  with  him  in  his  vagaries  and  soothe 
him  till  she  could  make  him  sleep.  But  she  never  felt 
quite  safe  when  she  encountered  him  in  a  state  of  intoxi- 
cation; for  she  always  feared  that  in  a  moment  of  drunken 
fury  he  might  slay  her. 

With  the  adroitness  of  an  accomplished  intrigante 
Ethel  devised  plans  by  means  of  which,  wherever  she 
was  (save  one  place,  her  father's  house),  she  could  keep 
up  a  constant  communication  with  Miles.  And  she  not 
only  compelled  him  to  give  her  the  information  she  de- 
sired when  she  was  with  him  in  person,  but  also  to  send 
it  to  her  when  she  found  it  either  convenient  or  pleasant 
to  be  absent  from  him.  Frequently  she  compelled  him 
to  make  an  excuse  which  would  enable  him,  under  cover 
of  official  business,  to  meet  her  at  points  between  the 
lines;  and  he  smiled  grimly  more  than  once  when  he  saw 
how  little  value  she  put  upon  his  life,  thinking  what  a 
fool  and  cowardly  slave  he  had  become. 

While  she  usually  kept  him  informed  as  to  her  where- 
abouts, yet  there  were  times  when  she  concealed  the  des- 
tination from  him.  He  did  not  know  that  this  was  when 
she  went  to  her  father's  house  in  the  mountains;  and  he 
grew  unreasonable  and  jealous,  and  brooded  over  it  till 
it  proved  his  death. 

For  her  long  absence  with  Tom  aroused  his  suspicions 
so  fiercely,  and  he  grew  so  despei'ate  over  it  and  inflamed 
his  passions  so  by  drinking  heavily,  that  at  last  he  sent 
spies  after  her,  and  eventually  sought  her  himself. 

It  was  in  the  latter  part  of  August  and  just  before  the 
Army  of  the  Cumberland  started  out  on  the  Chickamauga 
campaign  that  Miles  determined  to  find  Ethel  if  it  took 
his  life  to  do  it.  He  felt  that  it  would  be  at  least  a 
blissful   death   if  he  died  at  her  feet,    and  he  prayed 


Z22  GOD'S  WAR. 

that  he  might  meet  that  end,  if  he  could  have  nothing 
better.  By  following  up  the  clews  he  had  in  his  hands, 
the  communications  with  her  when  he  had  last  heard 
from  her,  he  made  up  his  mind  that  she  was  somewhere 
within  a  radius  of  twenty  miles  from  a  certain  spot;  and 
singularly  enough  the  central  point  of  his  radius  was  the 
mountain  upon  which  her  father's  home  was  situated. 
And  there  he  determined  to  search  for  her. 

He  contrived  a  plausible  story  to  persuade  the  general 
to  send  him  out  with  an  escort  to  scout  through  the 
countrj'  where  he  suspected  that  she  was.  And  he 
spent  some  days  in  his  quest  before  he  found  her;  and 
he  died  at  her  feet  as  he  had  prayed  that  he  might ;  only 
her  dark  eyes,  fixed  full  uj^on  his,  as  he  also  prayed, 
were  not  mournfully  loving,  but  were  filled  with  a  bitter 
hatred  and  scorn  fit  to  scorch  his  soul  as  it  left  his  body. 

It  happened  in  this  way. 

He  had  spent  the  long  day  fruitlesslj',  searching  every 
house  and  hut  and  cabin  for  the  woman  he  so  loved,  and 
fearing,  at  the  opening  of  each  door  or  as  he  peered 
through  a  window,  to  find  her  in  the  arms  of  the  rival 
with  whom  his  jealous  heart  told  him  she  was  dallying 
while  so  long  and  strangely  absent  from  him.  He  had 
separated  from  his  escort  and  had  sent  them  off  at  noon 
with  orders  to  go  back  to  the  headquarters  of  the  army, 
saying  that  he  would  follow  shortly.  He  was  dejected 
and  drank  heavily  during  the  afternoon.  And  as  he 
drank  he  grew  more  and  more  fierce  in  thinking  of  the 
wrongs  he  had  suffered  at  her  hands.  He  cursed  her  in 
his  heart,  and  just  as  he  had  vowed  that  he  Avould  kill 
her  at  sight  and  then  put  an  end  to  his  own  life,  she 
appeared  before  him.  The  spot  was  within  a  mile  of  her 
father's  house.  Miles  had  dismounted  and  while  his 
horse  was  cropping  the  grass  by  the  roadside  he  sat  upon 
the  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree  glaring  at  space  with  the  fierce 
gaze  of  a  drunken  man. 

But  when,  suddenly,  old  Selim,  stepping  lightly  and 
daintily  as  becomes  a  high-bred  horse  bearing  a  burden 
of  which  he  is  proud,  came  prancing  down  the  road  and 
Miles  lifted  his  eyes  and  beheld  Ethel  before  him  with 
a  beauty  he  had  never  seen  in  her  before,  his  heart  soft- 


god's  war.  333 

ened  and  melted,  and  he  cried  out  to  her  loudb'  and  joy- 
ously. For  she  had  been  for  weeks  living  amid  purity 
and  peace,  and  she  had  been  soothed  and  calroed  and 
begun  to  hope  that  she  might  retrieve  her  errors  and  lead 
a  better  life  in  some  way.  And  all  this  had  given  her 
face  a  new  sweetness  and  attractiveness.  She  started 
out  on  what  she  had  half-determined  should  be  the  last 
errand  she  would  ever  do  as  a  spy,  having  been  seized 
with  a  great  dislike  for  her  treacherous,  degrading, 
thankless  occupation. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  she  reined  up  her  horse, 
and  looked  upon  him  with  fear,  disgust,  and  astonish- 
ment. Her  first  thought  was  that  he  had  tracked  her  to 
her  hiding-place  and  probably  knew  that  Tom  was 
with  her,  and  was  determined  to  kill  him.  She  plainly 
saw  that  he  was  in  a  dangerous  state  of  intoxication,  and 
fearing  what  she  did,  she  determined  he  should  never 
reach  the  cabin  alive.  She  was  armed  and  knew  how  to 
use  her  weapons  expertly. 

He  rushed  toward  her  with  his  arms  outspread  as  if 
he  would  embrace  her;  but  she  coldly  bade  him  keep 
his  distance.  He  halted  and  his  brow  became  black  and 
fierce. 

"What  are  you  doing  here?"  she  asked  haughtily. 

"Well,  that's  a  pretty  question  to  ask?  I'm  looking 
for  you,  of  course." 

"And  now  that  you  have  found  me,  what  is  your  busi- 
ness with  me?" 

'■'You  are  taking  a  high  tone!  You  don't  seem  glad  to 
see  me." 

"No,  I  am  not  glad  to  see  you.  I  had  hoped  I  would 
never  see  you  again." 

"You've  got  through  with  me,  have  no  further  use  for 
me,  I  presume?" 

"Precisely,"  she  replied  with  icy  coldness.  "I  have 
no  further  use  for  you,  and  I  had  hoped  that  I  never 
would  see  you  again." 

Her  tone  and  manner  fired  him,  and  he  became  a 
maniac. 

"Perhaps  you.  do  see  me  for  the  last  time,"  he  growled 
hoarsely.     "I  understand  you,  you  she-devil!     You  have 


S24  god's  war. 

Rnother  sweetheart  near  here,  ancl  you  have  been  with 
him  all  this  tiiue,  while  I  havu  been  eating  my  heart  out 
for  a  woman  who  is  not  fit  for  me  to  wipe  my  shoes  on." 
She  could  not  help  showing  that  her  composure  was 
shaken.  He  saw  it,  and  it  gave  confirnaation  to  his  jeal- 
ous forebodings. 

"Ah,  it  is  true,  I  see  it  in  your  face!"  he  yelled. 
"Yon  lie!"  she  answered,  unable  to  restrain  her  bit- 
terness any  longer,  and  suddenly  grown  fiercely  wild  to 
end  everything  then  and  there.     "You  lie,  you  drunken 

brute!     Out  of  my  waj' — leave  this  spot " 

"Ah,  go  away?  You  are  afraid  to  have  lue  near  him? 
And  well  you  may  be,  for  do  you  know  what  I  mean  to 
do?     I  mean   to  kill  him,  just  as  I  meant   to   kill  the 

other  one " 

She  started  again,  and  grew  pale. 

"Ah,  that  is  it!  That  is  the  truth!  It  is  that  boy, 
Tom  Bailey,  you  have  here!  You  told  me  he  was  dead, 
that  he  had  died  on  the  field  at  Murfreesboro,  and  you 
had  buried  him.  You  lied!  He  is  here  and  alive,  but 
b^' G — d  he  shall  never  see  another  sun  rise!  I  know 
where  he  is,  and  1  will  make  sure  of  him  this  time!" 

"You  are  a  coward  and  a  liar!  Tom  Bailey  is  not 
here,  he  is  dead  as  I  told  you" — and  she  grew  anxious 
and  her  voice  took  on  a  half-pleading  intonation  as  the 
fear  that  he  would  kill  'J'om  rose  in  her  heart.  But  he 
started  up  the  hill,  by  the  bridle-trail  down  which  she 
had  come,  and  as  he  started  he  drew  his  revolver  and  set 
his  face  desperately,  as  she  had  seen  it  only  once  before. 
"Halt!"  she  cried.  "Stay  a  moment — Miles,  let  me 
tell  you  once  more — 'Stop,  or  I  will  kill  you,"  she 
shrieked  in  her  frantic  fear  as  she  di-ew  her  revolver. 
Miles  stopped  and  looked  at  her  an  instant,  with  no  fear 
for  her  weapon  pointed  full  at  his  heart  and  not  ten  feet 
from  him. 

"You're  right,"  he  said  at  last.  "You're  I'ight  ■ — 
you,  you  are  nearly  always  right  in  this  devil's  busi- 
ness." 

And  he  sat  down  upon  a  huge  bowlder;  and  drawing 
forth  his  bottle  he  coolly  took  a  drink.  His  red  eyes 
glared  on  her  while  he  drank,  and  she  trembled  involun- 


god's  war.  325 

tarily.  "You'i's  right,"  and,  replacing  his  bo  tie  he 
stumbled  to  his  feet,  drawing  his  revolver  as  he  did  so. 
"You're  right!  I'll  kill  j'ou  first,  you  she-devil,  and  then 
I'll — "  but  as  he  slowly  raised  his  v>eapou,  she  antici- 
pated him,  and  a  ball  from  her  pistol  pierced  his  heart. 
He  paled  and  his  eyes  glared  with  a  wild  amazement  as 
he  reeled  ;  then  he  made  a  convulsive  effort  to  remain 
standing,  but  fell  and  rolled  into  the  road,  his  revolver 
going  off"  as  he  did  so. 

For  a  moment  the  woman  looked  at  him  with  a  horri- 
fied stare.  She  saw  that  the  ball  entered  just  over  his 
heart.  She  saw  his  convulsive  shudderings  graduallj' 
cease;  and  then  she  knew  that  he  was  dead. 

Then  she  trembliugb'  replaced  her  revolver,  and  lashing 
her  horse,  she  fled  swiftly,  sending  back  one  despairing 
glance  at  the  bloated,  distorted  face  of  the  man  whom 
she  had  ruined,  body  and  soul ! 

An  hour  later,  Tom,  sitting  at  the  doctor's  door,  in 
the  fast  gathering  twilight,  heard  with  surprise  a  horse 
coming  slowly  up  the  bridle-path. 

"Why,"  he  said  to  the  doctor,  "Ethel  must  have 
changed  her  mind.  It  is  well  that  she  did,  too,  for  she 
would  not  have  had  time  to  reach  her  friend's  house 
before  dark. ' ' 

Ethel  had  made  a  visit  to  a  school-mate,  some  miles 
distant  and  still  further  in  the  mountains,  an  excuse  to 
Tom  and  her  father  for  her  going  away.  She  would 
spend  a  week  or  two,  she  said,  with  her  old  friend,  since 
Tom  was  getting  strong  so  fast,  and  then  she  would 
return. 

"Can  it  be  she?"  asked  the  doctor,  rising  uneasily. 
"Can  anything  have  happened?  When  she  does  say  she 
will  go,  she  does  not  come  back." 

The  sound  of  the  horse's  hoofs  came  more  and  more 
slowly,  and  at  last  stopped  altogether. 

"Wait,"  said  the  doctor,  as  he  stepped  within  the  door 
and  securing  two  revolvers  returned  witn  them,  giving 
one  to  Tom.  "I  do  not  like  the  sound.  We  will  go 
see." 

And  they  went,  cautiously  looking  about  them  as  they 
did  so.     And  in  a  few  moments  they  came  upon  a  rider- 


326  god's  war. 

less  horse,  quietly  feediDg  upou  the  grass.  He  bore  mili- 
tary accoulcumeuts,  tbose  of  an  oiEcer  of  cavalry  or  of 
tbo  staff.  As  Tom  approached  him  he  raised  his  head 
aud  whiijiiiod  sof tl.\ , 

""Why,"  exclaimed  Toiu,  "I  know  this  horse!  This  is 
Colonel  JJancroft's  horse — the  one  the  judge  gave  him — 
the  rouu  <'olt  my  uncle  raised.  See,  here  are  his  initials 
on  the  saddle-flaps  in  brass  nails,  'M.  B. '  What  does 
this  meauV" 

"Let  us  go  further  and  see!" 

Tom  mounted  the  horse,  and  the  two  went  slowlj'  and 
yet  more  cautiously  down  the  hill.  At  the  foot  they 
found  the  dead  body. 

They  placed  it  on  the  grass  by  the  roadside  to  remain 
till  morning;  and  as  they  did  so  Tom  removed  the  valu- 
ables and  papers  from  the  pockets,  and  then  they  went 
back  to  the  house. 

And  there,  looking  over  the  papers  that  night,  Tom 
learned  a  part  of  the  truth ;  for  there  were  letters  from 
Ethel ;  and  they  were  only  such  letters  ag  a  woman 
should  write  to  the  man  she  loved. 

And  one  of  them  was  only  a  month  old. 


god's  war.  327 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE     LOST     IS     FOUND. 

The  letters  which  Tom  Bailey  found  in  Miles  Ban- 
croft's pockets  never  left  his  possession  till  he  threw 
them  into  the  fire  and  burned  them.  This  he  did  within 
three  days  of  the  finding  of  them.  The  three  days  he 
spent  in  striving  to  understand  what  it  was  that  he  ought 
to  believe  concerning  the  matters  they  opened  up  to  him. 
We  may  well  believe  that  he  had  a  hard  time  with  it  all. 

As  clearly  as  anything  ever  breaks  into  the  mind  of 
man,  there  came  back  to  Tom's  memory  the  picture  of 
Miles  Bancroft's  face  lit  up  with  a  hot  glare  of  light  and 
filled  with  the  fierceness  of  murder — the  picture  he  had 
carried  with  him  from  the  moment  when  a  shock  awoke 
him  to  half-realize  that  Miles  was  trying  to  choke  him 
on  the  battlefield  of  Stone  Kiver.  I  say  this  was  the 
thing  that  came  to  him  when  a  glance  at  the  letters  first 
suggested  to  him  that  Miles  Bancroft  loved  Ethel  and 
that  perhaps  this  love  was  returned. 

And  then  his  suspicions  grew  to  a  granite  conviction 
that  his  life  had  been  attempted  by  this  man. 

But  he  tarried  not  to  think  of  this.  Another  and  far 
more  important  matter  claimed  his  attention. 

Up  to  this  time  it  had  scarcely  occurred  to  the  boy 
that  Ethel  might  be  as  attractive  to  others  as  she  had 
been  to  him.  As  he  esteemed  her  the  loveliest  and  best 
of  her  sex  he  would  have  acknowledged  that  others  might 
love  her  if  it  had  been  suggested  to  him.  But  the 
thought  had  never  entered  his  mind.  He  was  not  of  a 
suspicious  nature.  When  he  hated  he  did  so  in  a  whole- 
sale way  which  left  no  uncertain  ground  upon  which  the 
object  of  his  dislike  might  stand — the  feeling  shut  out  all 


o'is  god's  war. 

rossibilities.  So  when  he  loved,  he  never  dreamed  of 
danger.  He  was  never  on  the  alert  as  to  his  own  inter- 
ests as  some  men  always  are  except  when  the  jiray backs 
were  over  against  him,  and  then  his  soldierly  instinct 
made  him  suspect  the  moves  the  enemy  might  make,  as 
well  as  guard  against  theiu  or  take  steps  to  defeat  them. 

Now,  however,  he  had  proofs  before  him,  that  for 
some  purpose  or  other,  Ethel  had  in-ofessed  herself  in 
love  with  Miles  Bancroft,  and  that  at  a  time,  too,  when 
she  was  giving  Tom  every  evidence  that  a  pure  woman 
could  give  that  she  loved  him.  "What  was  her  motive  in 
ail  this?  C^uld  she  really  have  loved  Miles?  Or  was 
she  deceiving  him?  She  certainly  could  not  have  loved 
both. 

Tom  was  a  novice  in  love,  so  far  as  a  wide  experience 
in  its  afifairs  went.  But  he  thought  that  there  could  be 
no  doubt  that  Ethel  loved  him  and  him  alone.  No 
woman  could  have  done  what  she  had  done  for  him;  no 
woman  could  have  wept  over  him  and  caressed  and  almost 
worshipped  him,  as  he  recalled  that  she  had  done,  if  she 
had  not  really  at  heart  an  overwhelming  and  genuine 
love  for  him.  After  the  first  shock  there  came  to  him  a 
thousand  things  which  he  could  not  well  have  formulated 
into  words  of  description,  that  proved  to  him  that  she 
loved  nobody  in  all  the  Avorld  as  she  did  him.  And  so, 
at  last,  he  gave  up  that  poiut  as  no  longer  a  matter  for 
conjecture,  and  settled  himself  down  to  ascertain  if  pos- 
sible what  Ethel's  motives  could  have  been  in  persuading 
^liles  that  he  was  the  man  who  held  her  best  and  highest 
affections. 

It  was  a  long  and  a  tedious  and  a  painful  pursuit. 
But  at  last  he  came  to  a  conclusion  which  his  own  yearn- 
ing determination  to  find  nothing  wrong  induced,  per- 
haps, and  was  content — in  a  way.  This  conclusion  was 
that  in  some  way  Ethel  knew  that  Miles  had  sought  to 
kill  him — perhaps  out  of  jealousy — and  that  to  save  his 
life,  or  at  least  protect  it  till  he  should  grow  strong 
enough  to  care  for  himself  she  had  pretended  to  love  the 
would-be  murderer.  In  this  way  she  may  have  sought  to 
remove  the  only  cause  for  Miles'  terrible  enmity. 

He  Avoudered  whether  it  was  possible  that  Ethel  had 


V  god's  war.  329 

witnessed  Miles' attempt  upon  his  life?  Why  not?  He 
waci  couvinced  that  the  attempt  was  made  on  tlje  battle- 
field ;  notwithstanding  Ethel  had  said  that  she  found  him 
in  hospital  at  Shelbyville,  a  rebel  hospital.  But  she  had 
also  laughed  at  the  idea  that  Miles  had  tried  to  kill  him, 
and  had  even  pretended  not  to  know  him  at  all.  Now, 
in  the  new  light  he  Lad  just  received,  the  story  about  the 
hospital  did  not  seem  a  very  reasonable  one;  he  had  be- 
come thoroughly  convinced,  and  nothing  would  ever 
shake  his  belief,  that  Miles  had  tried  to  take  his  life;  and 
as  for  her  not  knowing  Miles — here  was  indisputable  evi- 
dence that  she  did.  He  knew  her  handwriting,  her 
modes  of  expressing  herself,  too  well  to  doubt  for  a  mo- 
ment the  authenticity  of  the  letters.  Ethel  had  written 
them. 

So  he  settled  down  to  the  conviction,  or  what  the  poor 
fellow  tried  to  make  himself  believe  was  a  conviction, 
that  Ethel  had  played  this  double  part  for  the  purpose  of 
shielding  him  from  danger. 

It  never  once  occurred  to  him  that  Ethel  could  have 
had  any  knowledge  of  Miles'  death.  He  was  spared  for 
the  moment  the  horrible  suggestion  that  perhaps  she 
might  have  witnessed  it.  For  when  Ethel  left  the  cabin 
she  took  the  bridle-trail  leading  away  from  the  spot 
where  Miles  had  found  her.  The  path  she  took  lay  in 
the  direction  of  the  supposed  home  of  her  mythical 
school  friend ;  but  after  she  had  got  safely  out  of  sight 
she  crossed  over  a  lower  spur  of  the  hill,  to  the  trail 
which  led  her  to  the  scene  of  her  crime. 

In  the  course  of  his  determined  fight  to  retain  his  faith 
in  Ethel,  each  day  brought  him  nevertheless  new  suspi- 
cions to  combat.  What  were  her  relations  to  the  quick- 
eyed,  soft-spoken  little  doctor  who  had  so  skillfully 
healed  his  wounds?  Despite  all  their  precautions  there 
was  an  affectionate  familiarity  between  the  two  which  had 
never  before  struck  him  as  peculiar.  Now,  however,  he 
marveled  at  it  exceedingly.  He  did  not  feel  at  liberty  to 
openly  ask  questions  with  a  view  to  having  his  doubts 
solved;  but  it  must  be  confessed  that  he  did  lay  a  few 
parallels  and  do  a  little  sapping  and  mining  to  discover 
the  truth.     He  flattered  himself  that  he  did  this  quite 


330  GOD'S  WAR. 

skillfully,  but  his  shrewd  host  saw  through  it  in  an  in- 
stant. Indeed  he  had  expected  it  and  was  therefore  pre- 
pared to  answer. 

"Ah,  Ethel,  she  was  the  daughter  of  my  dear  friend. 
When  he  died  the  poor  little  mees,  she  was  given  me  by 
heem  with  his  last  breath.  She  has  grown  to  be  like  the 
daughter  of  my  own." 

Tom  was,  therefore,  speedily  satisfied  on  this  score. 
When,  however,  he  encountered  a  few  days  later  the 
question  of  her  strange  freedom  of  action,  entirely  un- 
trammeled  so  far  as  her  guardian  was  concerned,  it  was 
not  so  easy  to  reach  a  conclusion.  She  was  daring  and 
her  supposed  foster-father  trusted  her  implicitly — he 
knew  that — but  it  seemed  a  strange  thing  that  she  should 
take  such  long,  lonely  tours,  no  one  knew  where,  in  a 
country  filled  with  rough  soldiers,  altogether  without 
protection.  And  this  led  up  with  a  fresh  shock  to  the 
story  she  had  told  him  at  the  picket  post  near  Nashville. 
There  seemed  to  be  something  strange  about  this  matter. 
So  far  as  her  statement  that  her  father  was  a  Union  man 
was  concerned,  why — if  she  meant  her  foster-father  it 
was  all  straight.  For  the  doctor  did  not  attempt  to  dis- 
guise the  truth  of  this  from  Tom.  But  if  she  meant  her 
own  father — her  own  father  had  been  dead  for  years! 
Why  had  she  omitted  to  tell  him  this?  In  other  particu- 
lars her  story  and  the  facts  which  he  found  did  not  seem 
to  correspond.  And  here  he  could  ask  no  questions,  nor 
even  lay  parallels,  nor  sap  and  mine.  He  must  wait, 
and  meantime  puzzle  his  poor  brains  which  had  already 
sufiEered  enough  one  would  think,  till  the  truth  came. 

But  on  one  point  he  was  determined  he  would  not 
permit  himself  to  trifle.  He  knew  that  he  had  no  right 
to  think  a  thought  which  was  not  to  her  credit,  until  he 
had  the  clearest  proofs  that  she  had  deliberately  and  with 
a  wrongful  motive  decei^'ed  him.  He  would  believe  in 
her  till  she  herself  should  tell  him  that  she  T.'as  unworthy 
of  his  confidence — and  even  then  he  would  take  into  con- 
sideration any  circumstances  which  might  be  in  her  favor, 
whether  she  should  urge  them  or  not. 

At  first  the  boy's  brain  worked  verj'  slowly  on  these 
mysterious  and  troublesome  matters.     But  by  degrees  he 


\ 

\ 

\  god's  war.  331 

grew  stronger  and  quicker  till  at  last  he  had  worked 
them  all  out,  and,  despite  everything,  in  her  favor,  as  we 
have  seen. 

It  was  on  the  12th  of  September  that  Tom,  with  faith- 
ful 'Curg  to  care  for  him,  started  out  in  search  of  hia 
regiment.  He  had  regained  his  strength  almost  com- 
pletely, but  made  his  journey  b}' easy  stages,  and  traveled 
iu  as  straight  a  line  as  he  could  to  Chattanooga. 

He  accompanied  Steedman's  two  brigades  in  their 
charge  over  the  southernmost  prong  of  the  "Horseshoe," 
having  picked  up  a  private  soldier's  uniform  and  a 
musket  on  his  way  to  the  battlefield.  All  that  he  could 
learn  of  his  regiment  was  that  it  had  crossed  Lookout 
some  twenty  miles  below  Chattanooga,  with  Thomas' 
Corps,  to  which  it  belonged. 

As  he  was  plunging  forward  in  the  charge  he  suddenly 
became  aware  of  a  line  of  nonchalant  men  who  were  sub- 
mitting to  be  run  over  by  Steedman's  troops  with  an 
appearance  of  the  utmost  unconcern.  There  was  some- 
thing about  the  manner  and  style  of  it  all  which  struck 
him  as  being  familiar,  and  he  involuntarily  paused  to 
look  about  him.  He  happened  to  stop  by  the  side  of  a 
big,  burly  captain  Avho  was  leaning  negligently  against  a 
tree  enjoying  the  charge.  In  a  second  of  time  their  eyes 
met. 

"Hello,  Nat.     How  are  3'ou?  '" 

"Tom  Bailey,  by  the  jumpiu'  Jehosaphat!  " 

"How  are  you,  old  man?" 

"Straight  as  a  string,  Tom,  and  mighty  glad  to  see 
you!" 

And  as  the  men,  recognizing  their  long-lost  comrade, 
came  crowding  up,  Nat  turned  : 

"Where's  that  hoodoo  Baptist?" 

"Heah  I  is,  Massa  Cappen!  I'se  done  gone  fotch  him 
back.     Datchyers  wot  ye  told  me  to  do!" 

Nat  looked  at  the  darky  for  a  few  moments  with  eyes 
that  could  Jiot  conceal  his  admiration.  Thou  ha  let  loose 
the  restraint  and  roared  out  like  a  stentor : 

"Oh,  you  old  son  of  a  <.!.:Lni!" 

Whereat  'Curg 'a  eyes  shone  yet  more  brilliantly, 

"You'se  been  u-keepin'  up  your  flesh  pow'ful  well  foh 


332  god's  war. 

a  man  what  hain't  eat  nuffin  foh  foMh  months,  Maesa  Kel- 

But  Nat  had  turned  to  Tom,  who  was  bewildered  by 
the  fusillade  of  eager  questions  to  which  he  was  sub- 
jected. The  hour  thus  spent  was  a  short  one;  and  when 
at  its  end  the  enemy  came  charging  up  the  hill  again  and 
the  air  thickened  up  with  bullets,  Nat  happening  to  turn 
about  encountered  'Curg's  face — which  was  by  no  means 
serene  in  its  expression  nor  altogether  filled  with  a  calm 
content. 

"Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy,  what  did  I  sa.v  to  you 
long  ago?  Here  you  are  stalking  god-like  in  the  awful 
hell  of  battle!  Get  to  the  rear  and  steal  me  something  to 
eat!     D'ye  hear?" 

"Yessah!     I'se  gwine  sah,  I'se  gwine!" 

And  he  turned  to  go. 

"Hold  on  a  minute;  remember  you've  got  to  steal  for 
Captain  Bailey,  too,  this  time.  And,  bj-  the  waj',  see  if 
you  can't  manage  to  strike  a  little  whisky." 

"Yessah,  j'essah ;  ef  dishyer  ole  nose  o'  mine  hain't 
loss  he's  cuuuin',  I'm  shore  to  get  it." 

There  was  a  fair  and  large  trail  of  dust  that  marked 
the  swift  retreat  of  Xerxes  Lycurgus  McCurdy  as  he 
sliot  down  the  hill. 

When  Nat  faced  to  the  front  again  there  was  Tom 
handling  a  revolving  rifle  with  the  best  of  them.  Nat 
watched  him  for  a  moment  and  then,  as  he  sheepishly 
rubbed  his  eye,  said  softly  : 

"Thank  God,  he  is  alive!" 


god's  war.  333 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A  NOBLE  GRIEF  NOBLY  BORNE. 

One  evening  the  judge  went  home  to  a  supper  with  a 
sadly  perturbed  air.  The  city  daily  which  the  evening 
train  had  brought  in  was  closely  and  compactly  folded 
up  and  hidden  aAvay  in  the  inner  pocket  of  his  coat.  He 
almost  staggered  as  he  walked  and  the  most  careless 
glance  would  have  shown  that  he  was  making  a  great 
effort  to  control  himself.  The  war,  so  prolonged  and  so 
bloody,  so  filled  with  sorrow  for  the  Avhole  land,  and  the 
end  of  which  still  seemed  so  far  off  to  the  thoughtful, 
had  aged  the  judge  perceptibly,  and  the  hale  old  man  of 
the  spring  of  '61,  had  become  haggard  and  pale.  And 
to-night  there  was  a  cloud  of  woe  in  addition  to  the  look 
of  anxiety  with  which  his  ej-es  were  of  late  so  much 
laden ;  and  they  seemed  to  shrink  back  in  his  head  while 
dark  circles  surrounded  them.  He  was  relieved  that 
Margaret  was  not  at  hand  to  greet  him  as  was  her  cus- 
tom, and  he  sat  quietly  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  library 
till  the  tea-bell  summoned  him. 

Margaret  had  been  unusually  cheerful  and  light-hearted 
for  some  time.  The  rapid  advance  of  Rosecrans'  army 
proved,  she  thought,  that  the  rebels  were  weakening  and 
that  the  end  of  the  war  was  near  at  hand,  when  the  man 
she  idolized  would  come  back  to  her.  She  did  not  think 
as  deeplj'  as  her  father;  but  he  was  at  pains  to  spare  her 
his  own  forebodings  as  to  how  much  longer  the  struggle 
might  last.  In  addition  to  her  hopeful  frame  of  mind  on 
this  point,  Margaret  had  another  source  of  happiness  in 
the  letters  which  came  from  Miles.  They  had  come 
much  more  frequently  since  the  battle  of  Stone  River 
than  before.  And  they  were  much  warmer  and  more 
affectionate.     The  protestations  of  affection  which  they 


;j34  god's  war. 

brought  were  stronger  and  more  fervid  than  ever;  and 
with  them  came  such  adoriuy;  estimation  of  her  own  self 
aa  seemed  almost  worship;  so  that  she  laughed  at  times 
at  his ''extravagance, "  as  she  called  it,  and  grew  yet 
happier  to  think  that  such  a  hero  should  love  her  so 
much  as  to  exalt  her  far  above  anything  that  she  believed 
she  deserved. 

It  had  been  her  custom  for  months  to  demand  the 
newspaper  from  her  father  every  evening  when  he  came 
home,  and  to  sit  for  a  brief  half-hour  to  read  him  the 
war  news.  On  this  particular  evening,  however,  she 
failed  to  meet  him  till  they  sat  down  together  at  the  tea- 
table.  Even  then,  filled  with  happy  thoughts,  for  she 
had  had  an  unusually  affectionate  letter  from  Miles  by 
the  morning  mail,  she  smilingly  seated  herself  without 
looking  at  the  judge,  and  so  soon  as  he  had  tremblingly 
asked  the  divine  blessing  upon  the  food  of  which  they 
were  about  to  partake,  busied  herself  in  pouring  the  tea. 
The  absence  of  all  anxiety  made  her  oblivious  to  the  un- 
accustomed tremor  of  the  old  man's  voice;  and  he  was 
glad  of  it  and  sat  pondering. 

At  length  she  raised  her  eyes  as  she  said : 

"I  think  I  will  step  down  to  the  post  office  after  tea, 
father.     I  have  written  a  letter  to  Miles,  and " 

luvoluntarib'  the  old  man  groaned. 

"Father,  father,  what  do  you  mean?  Why  do  you 
groan  and  look  so  sud  ?"  but  the  shadow  fell  darkly  upon 
ner,  and  she  went  to  his  side.  "Father,  where  is  the 
Commercial?  " 

"I — I — '*  and  the  old  man  fumbled  feebly  about  his 
pockets. 

"Tell  me  what  it  is.  You  have  bad  news.  Has  there 
been  another  battle?" 

"Another  battle — no — oh,  no — not  another  battle. 
But,  my  child,  you  must  be  strong,  you  must " 

"I  can  be  strong,  father.  I  am  strong.  You  have  bad 
news — Miles  is  wounded — lean  bear  it,  father — show  me 
the  paper." 

He  handed  it  to  her  without  a  word,  and  then  watched 
her  pale  face  grow  paler  and  her  eyes  dilate,  as  with  an 
unerring  instinct  she  turned  to  the  dispatch  which  told 


(lOD'S   WAR.  335 

that  Colonel  Miles  Baucroftj  while  on  a  scouting  expedi- 
tion, had  been  killed  by  guerrillas. 

Wheu  she  had  riuished  she  rose  from  hei*  seat,  and 
gently  waving  back  her  father's  outstretched  arms,  went 
from  the  room. 

"Please  tinish  without  me,  father;  I  think  I  had  better 
go  upstairs  and  lie  down  a  little  while." 

But  the  judge  wanted  no  tea.  He  sat  there  for  half  an 
hour  immovable.  His  heart  was  wrung  with  anguish  at 
the  thought  of  the  suffering  that  had  come  upon  his 
daughter,  the  darling  of  his  old  age,  and  the  light  of  his 
life.  Then  he  rang  the  bell  and  bidding  the  servant 
clear  away  he  crept  noiselessly  up  to  Margaret's  room. 

She  was  lying  upon  a  sofa  as  he  saw  by  the  dim  light 
her  ej-es  shining  through  the  gloom.  As  he  knelt  beside 
her  and  kissed  her  and  passed  his  hand  caressingly  over 
her  face,  he  found  that  she  was  tearless. 

"Oh,  my  daughter,  how  can  I  help  you?" 

"You  cannot  help  me,  father,"  she  replied  with  calm, 
unbroken  voice;  "I  would  like  to  be  alone  for  a  little 
while,  that  is  all.  I  do  not  wish  to  be  rude,  you  know, 
dear  father " 

"I  know — I  know.  Oh,  Margaret,  Margaret,  my  darl- 
ing child,  I  would  give  my  life  to  spare  you  this  pain!" 

"I  know  you  would  father;  but  it  would  not  spare  me 
any  pain ;  it  would  only  make  it  worse.  Go  down,  dear, 
and  I  will  come  presently  and  talk  with  you." 

But  he  waited  for  an  hour,  softly  shading  the  lamp  in 
his  library ;  for  he  could  not  read.  Margaret  did  not 
come  down.  She  sent  him  no  summons.  At  last  he  took 
his  hat  and  cane  and  feebly  tottered  down  the  street.  His 
instinct  told  him  that  Susie  would  be  the  best  companion 
for  his  poor  girl  in  this  awful  trial.  The  two  had  be- 
come intimate,  and  loved  each  other  more  and  moi'e  as 
the  weary  years  of  the  war  went  by. 

All  Clayton  knew  what  had  happened,  and  as  Miles' 
engagement  to  the  judge's  daughter  was  also  well  known, 
everybody  knew  where  the  blow  had  fallen.  The  groups 
of  men  on  the  sidewalks  made  way  for  the  judge,  who 
passed  slowly  along  without  a  glance  of  recognition  for 
any  one  of  them. 


336  GOD'S  WAR. 

Susie  met  him  at  the  door,  and  anticipated  him. 

"You  want  me  to  go  to  Margaret.  Yes,  I  knew  that 
you  would,  and  I  have  been  putting  the  children  to  bed 
so  that  I  could  leave  them.  I  am  readj'  to  go  with  you 
now." 

She  took  his  arm  and  the  contact  gave  him  strength ; 
and  the3'  pursued  their  way  without  speech,  till  the 
judge's  door  M'as  reached,  when  he  simply  said: 

"She  is  in  her  room.     I  will  be  in  the  library." 

"Where  are  you,  Margaret?"  asked  Susie  as  she 
entered  the  room. 

"Here  on  the  sofa,  Susie.     I  am  glad  you  have  come." 

No  other  words  were  needed.  Susie  knelt  by  the  sofa, 
and  wrapping  her  arms  about  the  stricken  girl,  placed 
her  cheek  against  Margaret's.  The  old  clock  on  the 
lauding  ticked  monotonously  on,  till  it  seemed  like  the 
tolling  of  a  funeral  bell. 

At  last  the  contact  of  this  warm,  unobtrusive  sympathy, 
broke  the  spell,  and  Margaret  wept  on  Susie's  faithful 
bosom.  Then,  the  depths  unsealed,  the  two  girls  talked 
softly  a  long,  long  time.  The  judge  heard  the  murmur 
of  their  voices  and  was  thankful.  But  still  he  sat  in 
semi-obscurity  wrestling  with  his  daughter's  sorrow. 

It  was  midnight  before  Susie  came  down  again. 

"She  is  beiter  now.  She  cried  a  long  time,  and  it 
eased  her  pain.  I  have  got  her  into  bed,  and  she  is 
quiet.  I  don't  think  she  will  sleep,  but  the  worst  is 
over.  I  would  look  in  occasionally  during  the  night,  if 
1  were  you.  I  will  come  over  early  in  the  morning  and 
stay  all  day  with  her." 

The  "worst"  is  not  so  soon  over  in  such  a  case.  Time 
seemed  to  have  no  healing  for  this  wound.  Margaret 
regained  her  composure  and  gave  no  hint  of  her  pain. 
13at  when  Miles'  remains  were  brought  to  Clayton  a  few 
months  after,  and  were  given  a  public  funeral,  Margaret 
clad  herself  in  deepest  black  out  of  which  her  pale  face 
gleamed  like  marble,  but  firm  and  calm.  Firm  and  calm 
till  the  roan  horse  came  slowly  stalking  behind  the 
hearse  —then  for  a  moment  she  shivered  and  hid  her  face. 

It  was  a  double  funeral ;  for  the  remains  of  Aunt 
Eliza's  son  who  fell  at  Chickamauga  were  buried  at  the 


god's  war.  337 

same  time.  The  stoical  heroism  of  the  noble  woman  as 
she  stood  at  the  grave  and  saw  the  coflBn  slowly  lowered 
was  a  height  of  grandeur  which  even  the  untaught  in- 
stincts of  her  neighbors  could  appreciate.  Suddenly  she 
signed  for  silence. 

"He  has  died  the  death  I  would  have  chosen  for  him. 
To  free  his  fellow-man  he  has  yielded  up  his  young  life. 
God  gave  it  to  me  to  bring  into  the  world  a  hero,  and  I 
thank  Him  for  it!  My  bo3'  has  crowned  my  life  with 
honor,  no  less  than  his  own.  He  was  very  precious  to 
me,  and  yet — oh,  my  boy!  my  boy!" 

Her  firm  voice  broke  into  a  pitiful  wail,  and  extending 
her  arms  toward  the  grave  she  tottered  and  would  have 
fallen  into  it  had  there  not  been  strong  arms  there  to 
catch  her  and  carry  her,  insensible,  from  the  spot. 

Over  Miles  Bancroft's  grave  was  placed  a  fair  monu- 
ment, and  on  its  face  was  inscribed  the  record  of  his 
life.  Below  it  all  was  an  inscription:  "This  monument 
was  reared  to  the  memory  of  his  adopted  son,  Miles  Ban- 
croft, by  William  Henderson,  who  is  proud  to  claim  even 
so  small  a  part  in  such  a  pure,  heroic  life." 

By  the  slowly -moving  waters  of  the  tranquil  stream 
that  graveyard  may  still  be  seen.  The  drooping  willows 
and  feathery  elms  make  it  beautiful  where  the  angular 
stiffness  of  evergreens  trimmed  into  uncouth  forms  do  not 
make  it  ugly.  And  the  idler  there  may  read  the  inscrip- 
tion on  Miles  Bancroft's  tombstone,  as  Tom  Bailey  did 
years  after  it  was  reared. 


)38  god's  war. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

DRAINED     TO     THE     DREOS. 

Captain  Thomas  Bailey,  on  rejoining  his  regiment, 
found  himself  in  an  anomalous  position.  He  had  long 
since  been  dropped  from  the  rolls  and  Nat  Kellogg  was 
captain  of  Company  "Q"  in  his  stead.  Nat  wrote  out 
his  resignation,  intending  to  go  back  into  the  ranks;  but 
Tom  tore  the  paper  up  and  said  he  would  have  no  more 
of  such  nonsense.  The  news  of  his  return  spread  rapidly 
through  the  army,  till  at  last  the  commanding  general 
sent  for  him.  At  the  end  of  his  interview  it  was  arranged 
that  Tom  should  resign,  and  accept  from  the  Governor  of 
Tennessee  a  commission  as  colonel  of  cavahy;  and  per- 
mission was  given  him  to  recruit  his  regiment  from  the 
enlisted  men  of  the  Arm^'  of  the  Cumberland. 

"In  other  words.  Captain  Bailey,"  said  the  general,  "I 
will  give  you  a  picked  command.  Your  duty  from  this 
time  forth  will  be  extra  hazardous.  We  will  give  you  a 
better  command  than  any  other  man  has,  and  will  expect 
much  from  you." 

"Very  well;  I  will  do  my  best." 

The  first  man  to  volunteer  as  a  private  in  Tom's  regi- 
ment was  Nat.  The  second  was  Dick  Drummond,  the 
third  was  Jim  Druett,  now  the  second  lieutenant — then 
came  Fielding  the  fifer,  and  Schultz  the  drummer,  and 
John  Hendley,  till  at  last,  lifting  up  his  eyes,  Tom  saw 
drawn  u])  before  him,  Company  "Q"  at  a  shoulder  arms 
under  the  (•ou-jiuand  of  Sergeant  Heimbach. 

"Here,"  said  Tom.  "This  won't  do.  I  can't  take 
you  all.  It  would  make  the  Twenty-first  a  nine  company 
regiment." 

"Dot   makes  no  difference,"  answered  the  bold  ser- 


god's  war.  339 

geant.  "Gumpany  'Q'  haf  enlisted  in  Guruel  Bailey's 
uew  regiment.  Dot  Dwendy-furst,  she's  all  lyate,  wed- 
der  she  be  beeg  or  leetle — she  will  got  there  anyhow, 
ain't  it?" 

"No,"  said  Tom.  "This  won't  do.  I  will  take  live 
men  out  of  the  company — you  may  select  them  as  you 
please." 

The  boys  didn't  like  it,  and  showed  a  great  deal  of  dis- 
pleasure. 

"We've  got  to  go  if  Captain  Kellogg  does,"  said  one. 

"Well,  then,"  said  Nat;  "if  that's  the  fix  you're  in  I'll 
stay  with  you." 

And  he  marked  off  his  name. 

An  argument  followed,  but  it  was  of  no  avail.  Tom 
would  only  take  five,  and  would  not  choose  the  men  him- 
self. 

"Vehres  dot  Berry,"  said  Heimbach.  "Pring  out 
dose  dices  box." 

And  the  company  marched  back  to  their  quarters. 

The  cavalry  regiment  was  soon  organized,  and  made 
itself  a  terror  to  the  flanks  of  the  Confederate  Army  from 
Dalton  to  Jouesboro,  in  the  "Hundred  days'  battle," 
which  is  commonly  called  "The  Atlanta  Campaign." 
But  it  would  take  a  great  mauj'  books  of  the  size  of  this 
to  tell  the  story  of  its  exploits.  Before  the  first  sixty 
days  were  over  Tom  was  given  a  brigade  of  horsemen, 
and  when  the  army  under  Sherman  reached  Raleigh  a 
delayed  mail  brought  him  a  commission  as  brigadier- 
general. 

Wherever  he  went  men's  eyes  followed  him  lovingly. 
And  whenever  he  ordered  a  charge  he  first  drew  his  own 
saber  and  led  the  way  with  a  dash  and  a  vim  which  was 
not  often  successfully  resisted.  His  brigade  fell  like  a 
thunderbolt  wherever  it  encountered  the  enem^',  and 
there  seemed  to  be  no  enterprise  too  bold  or  hazardous 
for  its  commander  to  undertake. 

"For  all  the  world  like  old  John  F,,"  said  Nat  one  day 
when  Tom  had  accomplished  a  particularly  brilliant  suc- 
cess. "What  a  team  they'd  make!  Give  old  John  F.  an 
army  with  Tom  as  his  chief  of  cavalry,  and  all  tother 
place  couldn't  whip  'em." 


340  god's  war. 

But  in  these  latter  days  Tom  had  changed  greatly. 
Youthful  as  his  figure  was,  and  while  his  face  was  only 
that  of  early  manhood,  there  was  a  sternness  in  its  out- 
lines and  a  gravity  in  the  eyes  which  might  well  have 
belonged  to  an  older  man.  And  here  and  there  on  his 
head  an  interloping  silver  hair  might  be  seen.  Prema- 
ture manhood  had  come  upon  him  through  a  great  trial 
to  which  he  was  subjected,  and  in  carrying  a  great  re- 
sponsibility, and  he  was  the  stronger  for  it,  if  it  had 
robbed  him  of  some  of  his  boyish  joyousness. 

And  when  I  tell  you  what  follows  you  will  not  wonder 
at  his  gray  hairs. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  Atlanta  campaign  Tom  was 
sent  one  day  with  his  regiment  on  a  reconnoitering  expe- 
dition. He  received  orders  to  pass  around  the  left  flank 
of  the  rebel  arm.v  and  to  penetrate  to  its  rear  as  far  as  the 
railroad.  Then  he  was  to  follow  up  the  road  to  ascertain 
as  nearly  as  possible  how  many  Confederates  were  posted 
at  a  certain  point,  and  the  character  and  position  of 
their  works.  This  accomplished  he  was  told  to  burn  a 
bridge  or  two  along  the  railroad  and  report  back  to  the 
headquarters  of  the  Army  of  the  Cumberland  with  all 
speed.  He  was  specially  enjoined  not  to  get  under  tire 
if  he  could  help  it. 

After  gaining  the  Confederate  rear  Tom  found  himself 
in  a  small  tow'n  with  no  greater  garrison  than  a  few 
stragglers.  These  he  took  captive,  and  halted  just  out- 
side the  hamlet  that  his  men  and  horses  might  take 
breakfast.  While  drinking  his  coffee  and  munching  his 
crackers  he  was  approached  by  a  small  boy  who,  after 
an  awkward  salute,  handed  him  a  sealed  envelope 
addressed  to  "Colonel  Thomas  Bailey." 

He  started  with  surprise  and  blushed  like  a  maiden  as 
he  recognized  the  familiar  handwriting.  The  inclosure 
ran  as  follows : 

"Come  to  me.  Please  give  me  at  least  five  minutes,  I 
will  not  ask  more.  You  will  be  safe.  The  hoy  can  be 
trusted  and  he  will  guide  you.  Ethel." 

Giving  his  lieutenant-colonel  orders  to  move  after  the 


god's  war.  341 

lapse  of  five  minutes  slowly  forward  till  the  regiment 
reached  a  stream  half  a  mile  ahead  and  there  wait  for 
him,  Tom  mounted  his  horse  and  followed  the  boy  into 
the  town. 

Here  at  last  was  an  opportunity  for  clearing  up  the 
doubts  and  surmises  with  which  he  had  been  struggling 
so  long.  His  heart  leaped  at  the  thought  that  at  last  he 
would  again  meet  with  the  woman  he  so  passionately'- 
adored ;  and  yet  there  was  trepidation  and  a  strange 
uneasiness  mingled  with  his  joy.  He  re-read  the  note  as 
he  rode  along,  and  its  tone  of  constraint  chilled  him. 
What  might  it  not  forebode? 

But  he  had  no  time  to  dwell  upon  the  matter,  for  as  he 
replaced  the  note  in  his  breast-pocket  the  boy  jerked  his 
thumb  over  his  shoulder. 

"Thar's  the  house,  gineral." 

At  the  door  Ethel  met  him. 

"I  wanted  to  see  you  once  more,"  she  began. 

Tom's  arms  were  about  her  in  an  instant  and  he  cov- 
ered her  face  with  kisses. 

"Oh,  I  am  so  glad — "  she  began  again.  Then  she 
sprang  from  him.     "I  am  so  sorry,  I  mean." 

"Oh,  Ethel!  sorry  to  meet  me  once  more?" 

"Yes — for  we  must  never  meet  again." 

"What  do  you  mean?" 

"This  will  tell  all.  Don't  ask  any  more,  but  say  once 
more  that  you  love  me — and  then — and  then  go." 

She  placed  an  envelope  addressed  to  him  in  his  hands. 

"I  do  not  understand " 

"Go,  go" — she  cried.  "I  had  intended  to  send  the 
packet  to  you — but  when  I  saw  you  ride  by  this  morn- 
ing, I  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  see  you  and 
speak  with  you  once  more." 

She  looked  more  beautiful  than  ever,  with  a  wild, 
anxious,  pleading  look  in  her  eyes.  Again  Tom  clasped 
her  to  his  heart. 

"Ob,  Tom,  do  you  really  love  me  still?" 

"Do  1  love  you?"  he  replied.  "You  know  I  love 
you,  and  have  loved  you  long.  What  are  you  doing 
here?" 

The  sound  of  horses'  hoof -beats  came  thick  and  fast. 


342  god's  war. 

She  thrust  him  aside  convulsively,  and  pushed  him  out 
of  the  door. 

"Fly,  for  your  life;  they  knew  you  were  coming,  and 
they  are  after  you — two  regiments — quick,  oh,  my  darl- 
ing—for my  sake!" 

He  turned.  Confronting  him  and  between  him  and 
his  horse,  stood  a  great,  gaunt  Confederate  with  burning- 
eyes. 

"You  are  mj'  prisoner!" 

"Not  yet,"  replied  Tom,  as  his  hand  sought  his  saber. 
The  thunder  of  the  coming  horsemen  drew  nearer  and 
nearer. 

"Get  out  of  my  way,"  commanded  Tom,  moving 
toward  his  horse. 

"Not  much,"  and  the  Confederate  swung  his  blade  in 
the  sun.  Tom  parried,  and  then  they  set  to,  fiercely 
and  angrily.  The  Confederate  overreached  him,  and 
seeing  that  ho  M'as  about  to  thrust  at  his  chest,  Tom 
sprang  back.  At  the  same  moment  Ethel  threw  herself 
on  Tom's  breast,  and  the  blade  of  his  opponent,  before  it 
could  be  arrested,  passed  through  the  girl's  body. 

"My  God!  You  are  killed — you  are  killed,  oh,  my 
darling." 

The  Confederate  dropped  his  point,  and  uncovered  his 
head  as  Tom,  kneeling,  supported  Ethel  in  her  death 
struggle. 

"Yes,"  she  gasped,  her  blood  gushing  forth  as  she 
spoke.  "I  am  dying,  but — thank  God,  I^ — have — saved 
— your — life — with — my — own.     Kiss  me!" 

In  that  kiss  her  soul  passed  away. 

A  thundering  roar  from  the  rear,  the  collision  of 
horses,  the  shouting,  firing  and  uproar  of  battle  around 
him  roused  him.  His  own  regiment  had  returned,  just 
in  time  to  meet  their  pursuers.  Eaising  the  girl's  bodj-^ 
in  his  arms,  and  carrying  it  within  the  house,  Tom 
reeled  forth  to  mount  and  lead  his  men. 

But  he  was  too  late.  They  had  repulsed  the  enemy 
and  were  slowly  falling  back. 

"We'd  better  get  out  of  this,  at  once,"  said  his  lieu- 
tenant-colonel. "They  outnumber  us  four  to  one.  We 
only  met  the  advance  guard," 


god's  war.  343 

"Yes,  you  are  right,"  answered  Tom  in  a  low,  deep 
tone. 

He  returned  to  the  house,  passed  within,  kissed  the 
lips  of  the  dead  girl  once  more,  and  slowly  walked  out. 

At  the  door  he  met  a  wild-eyed  woman. 

"Oh,  sir,  please  spare  me!" 

"Is  this  your  home?" 

"Yes,  sir.     Take  what  you  want,  but  spare  our  lives." 

He  thrust  money  into  her  hands. 

"See  that  she  is  decently  buried." 

"I  will,  but  spare " 

"You  are  safe  from  us.     We  are  going." 

And  he  sprang  to  his  horse  and  led  his  regiment 
rapidly  away. 

Nearly  a  week,  passed  in  hard,  strenuous  work,  had 
gone  by  before  Tom  had  an  opportunity  to  read  Ethel's 
letter.  It  was  long,  and  as  he  read  it  he  grew  swiftly 
older.  It  revealed  to  him  the  truth  of  her  life.  She 
spared  nothing  and  made  a  full  confession.  The  Latin 
blood  in  her  veins  had  driven  an  undisciplined,  wayward 
nature  into  a  life  of  shame  if  not  crime.  Her  mother 
died  while  she  was  an  infant.  She  knew  no  proper  care, 
for  an  idolizing  father  indulged  her  till  she  got  beyond 
his  control.  It  was  too  late  when  she  understood  that 
life  might  have  been  a  blessing.  She  found  that  she  had 
made  it  a  curse. 

It  had  grown  more  hateful  to  her  since  she  had  come 
to  know  and  understand  Tom. 

She  told  him  of  her  relations  to  Miles,  and  why  she 
had  lured  him  and  made  him  her  slave,  and  how  she  had 
stayed  his  hand  that  night  on  the  battlefield.  She  told 
him  how  Miles  met  with  his  death.  And  in  her  letter 
she  inclosed  a  plain  gold  ring.  Inside  it  ran  the  inscrip- 
tion :  "From  Margaret  to  Miles."  She  did  not  spare 
herself  when  she  wrote  down  the  shameful  abuse  of  her 
power  over  Miles  which  had  made  him  give  her  the 
sacred  token.  She  told  Tom  that  she  had  sieen  him  fre- 
quently, and  had  often  been  near  him,  since  he  had  re- 
joined the  army,  at  times  when  she  dared  not  reveal  her- 
i^elf.     At  her  father's  house  in  those  deliriously  happy 


344  god's  war. 

days  8h«  had  begun  to  hope,  she  said,  that  she  might 
some  day  be  happj'  with  him.  But  as  he  was  the  only 
human  being  she  had  ever  loved  purely  and  unselfishly 
except  her  father,  she  could  not  consent  to  blast  his  life. 
She  had,  therefore,  left  him  with  the  purpose  of  never 
seeing  him  again. 

She  had  been  paid  richly  by  the  Confederates  for  the 
service  she  had  rendered  him. 

"There  is  a  blockade  runner  laden  with  cotton  be- 
longing to  nie  lurking  off  the  Georgia  coast.  Before  you 
get  thi«  I  will  join  her.  I  will  take  my  cotton  to  Eng- 
land. It  is  a  fortune.  I  will  go  to  the  Continent  and 
never  see  America  nor  you  again.  Go  on,  to  the  honor 
and  happiness  that  awaits  you,  I  go  to  the  living  death 
which  I  have  chosen. 

"You  are  the  only  human  being  I  have  ever  worthily 
loved.  And  yet  I  have  deceived  you  from  the  moment  I 
first  met  you — baselj-  and  cruelly  deceived  you.  I  can- 
not understand,  myself,  why  I  have  done  so.  But  I 
loved  you,  and  worship  you  now  as  one  adores  his  God. 
Even  although  a  revelation  of  my  true  character  would 
have  unquestionably  sent  you  from  me,  yet  as  I  did  and 
do  sincerely  love  you,  I  ought  to  have  made  that  revela- 
tion. For  your  sake,  dear  Tom.  Do  you  shudder  with 
disgust  and  shame,  now  that  I  have  told  you  what  I  am, 
that  I  should  address  yon  with  terms  of  endearment? 
Pardon  me,  for  it  is  for  the  last  time.  An  ocean  will  roll 
between  us  soon  after  you  read  these  lines,  and  we  will 
never  meet  again.  I  will  not  live  long.  I  have  not  the 
courage  to  take  my  own  life  by  violent  means.  But  I 
will  soon  end  it  by  following  the  so-called  pleasures  that 
I  have  been  used  to.  No  death  is  more  certain  than  the 
one  they  bring. 

"Was  I  altogether  to  blame  that  you  loved  me  so?  A 
thousand  times  I  was  on  the  point  of  speaking  that  your 
illusion  might  pass  awaj',  but  I  could  not.  The  one  thing 
inexpressibly  precious  which  life  ever  held  for  me  was 
your  love.  Nothing  so  pure  and  noble  and  chivalric  was 
ever  offered  to  me  before  I  met  j-^ou. 

"I  would  like  you  to  forgive  me,  but  I  cannot  ask  it. 
your  generosity  might  imp«l  you  to  do  so,  but  I  do  not 


god's  war.  345 

deserve  it.  You  must  not  forgive  me.  I  must  drink  the 
cup. 

"But  I  may  ask  you  to  forget  it.  Tbiuk  no  more  of 
it,  and  your  firm  will  soon  will  enable  you  to  blot  it  out 
of  your  mind.  And  some  day  you  will  meet  some  one 
who  is  worthy  of  you,  and  you  will  m^ike  her  blessed 
among  women. 

"Thank  God,  I  will  never  know  her!  Ethel." 


346  GOD'S  WAR. 


CHAPTER   XXXIV. 

SLEEP    IS    NOT    DEATH. 

When  the  grand  review  of  1865  Avas  held  in  Washing- 
ton Tom  rode  at  the  head  of  his  brigade.  Amid  the 
music  and  cheering  of  the  occasion  he  sat  upon  his  horse 
somber  and  thoughtful.  At  last,  at  the  corner  of 
Eleventh  Street,  the  column  was  delayed  for  a  moment  by 
an  obstacle  near  the  treasury.  Looking  neither  to  the 
right  nor  the  left  but  absorbed  in  his  own  gloomy 
thoughts,  our  hero  suddenly  became  aware  of  an  unusual 
excitement  near  by.  Looking  up  he  saw  a  party  of  his 
old  Clayton  friends  advancing  through  the  press  toward 
him,  and  bearing  a  huge  wreath  of  flowers  in  their  out- 
stretched hands.  And  as  they  came  the  cheering  grew 
to  be  deafening.  At  last  Father  Goodman  stood  before 
him. 

"General  Bailey,  your  old  neighbors  and  friends  have 
come  to  greet  and  congratulate  you;"  and  before  Tom 
could  stay  them  the  wreath  was  thrown  over  his  shoul- 
ders. 

He  was  greatly  moved,  and  out  of  his  emotion  seemed 
to  spring  a  new  thought.  He  sat  more  erect  and  his 
eyes  from  that  time  forward  sought  steadfastly  for  a  face 
in  the  tlnong.  And  as  they  searched  the  faces  in  the 
crowd  tbey  grew  brighter  and  he  seemed  transformed — 
like  another  man.     An  old  dream  came  back  to  him. 

Or  was  it  that  he  was  waking  from  a  dream — a  terrible 
nightmare? 

At  last  his  eager  gaze,  restless  and  hopeful,  became 
fixed  and  filled  with  sudden  content.  On  the  raised  plat- 
form near  the  White  House  where  stood  the  president,  he 
saw  a  noble,  white-haired  old  man,  sustained  by  the  hand 


god's  war.  347 

of  a  young  and  comely  "woman  whose  girlish  figure  gavo 
contradiction  to  her  older  face.  And  yet  a  second  glance 
showed  no  age  in  the  face,  but  a  saddened,  chastened 
sobriety  which  looked  like  it. 

Saluting  the  reviewing  oflBcer  Tom  wheeled  his  horse 
toward  the  steps  of  the  platform;  but  before  he  dis- 
mounted to  take  his  place  by  the  side  of  the  president  he 
lifted  his  garland  and  with  bared  head  laid  it  at  Margai-et 
Henderson's  feet.  He  spoke  no  word  nor  heeded  the 
vehement  enthusiasm  that  greeted  the  act,  but  after  one 
look  into  the  blushing  girl's  eyes  he  quietly  ascended 
the  steps  and  proceeded  with  his  duties. 

That  night,  as  he  rode  at  the  head  of  his  brigade 
across  the  Long  Bridge,  and  as  he  came  to  the  middle  of 
the  channel,  he  threw  a  ring  into  the  deep  waters. 

On  the  30th  of  May,  of  each  year,  Margaret  strews 
liowers  on  the  grave  of  Miles  Bancroft.  The  ceremony 
gives  her  that  picture  which  attends  the  reverent  per- 
formance of  a  pious  duty.  It  is  accompanied  by  no 
sharp  pangs  of  regret,  no  mournful  longing  for  the  love 
Avhich  has  become  a  hallowed,  a  holy  thing.  Her  mem- 
ory holds  the  dead  man  tenderly,  but  with  a  serene  and 
passionless  contemplation  which,  compai'ed  with  love,  is 
as  the  white  moonlight  of  a  winter's  night  to  the  glow- 
ing illumination  of  a  midsummer  sun. 

When  she  reflects  that  Tom  never  goes  with  her  on 
this  errand  of  duty  she  softly  smiles  and  is  not  altogether 
unhappy  in  the  thought  that  her  husband  loves  her  so 
jealously  that  he  cannot  bear  to  think  that  she  once  loved 
another.  At  the  same  time  she  cannot  but  wonder  that 
he  does  not  understand  that  her  love  for  him  is  above 
and  beyond  all  else  that  ever  entered  her  life. 

He  has  grown  to  be  her  senior  whom  she  worships  for 
the  nobility  of  his  nature,  and  he  ought  to  feel  this,  she 
thinks.  And  he  does  know  that  of  all  men  no  one  is 
more  deeply  or  tenderly  loved  than  he  is;  and  he  is  sat- 
isfied and  tranquil.  The  love  he  bears  for  her  is  his  life; 
and  it  flows  on  like  a  strong  and  mighty  river  which 
nothing  can  disturb. 

No  word  of  his  shall  ever  open  her  eyes  to  the  truth  as 


.';48  r.OD'S   WAR. 

to  ber  old  lover.  "NVby  kIiouM  it?  .  Miles  Bancroft's  fall 
is  known  to  Tom,  but  to  no  one  else.  The  kuoNvledge 
will  go  to  his  grave  with  him. 

As  he  looks  back  he  realizes  that  the  ideal  drawn  from 
Margaret  Henderson  was  always  with  him,  so  that,  aa 
he  lived  under  the  spell  of  an  enchantress,  it  invested  the 
woman  who  came  near -to  wrecking  his  life  with  its  own 
noble  purity.  And  he  thanks  God  that,  M'hile  his  love 
for  Margaret  may  have  slept  for  a  time,  it  never  died,  but 
always  ruled  his  life  and  at  last  crowned  him  with  honor 
and  happiness. 


THX  Bin>, 


YOUR  OWN  LAWYER 

BY 
A  HEriBER  OF  THE  BAR 


NEELY'S  ANGLO-AMERICAN  LIBRARY 


Price  $1.00 


CHIS  excellent  work  should  be  in  the  hands 
of  every  layman.  Not  that  it  is  intended 
to  supersede  the  bar,  but  it  gives  informa- 
tion which  everyone  needs  to  possess,  re- 
lating to  the  origin  of  law,  the  terms  used  to 
designate  the  parties  to  a  suit,  the  nature  of  con- 
tracts, commercial  paper,  bonds,  transfer  of  prop- 
erty, statutes  of  fraud  and  limitations,  insurance 
inheritance,  wills,  guardians,  marriage,  divorce, 
crimes,  etc.,  etc. 

These  are  points  within  the  competency  of 
all  men  and  women,  involving  knowledge  which 
should  be  common  to  all. 

Notwithstanding  the  nature  of  its  contents, 
this  book,  i2mo,  of  595  pages,  reads  like  a  ro- 
mance. It  is  so  clearly  written  and  so  readable 
that  a  child  would  understand  it.  It  might  bci 
called  a  romance  of  the  law.  Put  it  in  your 
mind  and  then  place  it  in  your  library. 

For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  ptlctt.^ 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
96  Queen  Street,  London.  114  Fifth  Avenue,  New  Ycrib 


The  Honor  of  a  Princess. 

By  F.  KIMBALL  SCRIBNER. 

Neely's  Prismatic  Library. 
Gilt  top,  50c. 

A  new  novel,  "The  Honor  of  a  Princess,"  by 

a  new  writer,  F.  Kimball  Scribner,  has  easily 
won  the  approbation  of  the  lovers  of  romance, 
dealing  as  it  does  with  the  adventures  of  two 
Enijlishnicn  during^  the  latter  years  of  the  reign 
of  Queen  Elizabeth. 

From  first  to  last  the  story  is  filled  with  ac- 
tion. Falling  under  the  displeasure  of  the  Virgin 
Queen,  Harold  Martant,  an  English  Catholic, 
makes  his  escape  to  France,  accompanied  by  an 
old  retainer  of  his  House,  a  veteran  of  the  days 
of  Drake  and  Frobisher.  On  the  advice  of  a 
certain  Captain  Von  Francius,  a  former  leader 
of  a  Free  Company,  the  refugees  accompany  him 
to  Schleswig  and  enter  the  service  of  the  young 
king  of  that  country,  whose  title  to  the  throne 
is  disputed  by  a  nobleman  of  the  kingdom. 

The  story,  which  is  charmingly  told  in  the 
simple  language  of  a  soldier  of  the  period,  treats 
of  the  adventures  of  Martant  and  his  compan- 
ions while  in  the  service  of  the  Royal  House  of 
Schleswig.  Though  a  new  writer,  the  author's 
name  is  not  unknown  to  the  literary  world,  he 
being  a  member  of  the  well-known  family  of 
Charles  Scribner's  Sons,  publishers. 

For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  price. 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
06  Queen  Street,  London.  114  Fifth  Av*"ue,  New  York. 


A  Journey  to  Venus. 

By  O.  W.  POPE. 

Paper,  25c. 

Nccly's  Popular  Library  with  foil  page  illustf  ations 

Lovers  of  Jules  Verne  will  gladly  welcomt 
this  remarkable  volume.  Many  have  declared 
that  Dr.  Pope  has  even  outdone  the  French 
master  at  his  own  art.  At  any  rate  tha  narrative 
IS  written  with  an  air  of  candor  that  almost  com- 
pels a  blind  belief  in  its  tr-ith,  although  the  ad- 
ventures which  befall  the  daring  travelers  to  the 
glorious  planet  are  staggering  in  the  extreme. 
Books  of  this  character,  while  written  with  a 
considerable  latitude,  contain  many  features  of 
deepest  interest,  showing  how  far  science  has 
gone  in  its  eager  quest  for  the  truth  in  relation 
witt  'Our  neighboring  planets,  we  may  never 
k":^ovv  thp  truth  with  regard  to  Mars  and  Venus 
ana  ^upit'';,  but  that  is  no  reason  we  may  not 
speculate  And  endeaver  to  lift  the  veil  that  hangs 
©ver  those  bright  worlds  that  glow  and  sparkle 
m  the  heavens.  "A  Journey  to  Venus"  is  an 
extraordinary  volume  in  many  ways,  and  will 
veil  repay  a  careful  perusal. 


*^  «*!«  everywhere,  er  sent  post-paid  oa  receipt  of  price. 

P.  TENNYSON  NEEf.Y,  Publisher, 
*#  Uue«8  Slxeet,  toadac^  s  j 4  Fifib  Ay«nue«  N«w  Vq*  5- 


T 


ATE  WORKS  OF 

OPIE  READ, 

Author  of 

*^A   Kentucky   Colonel*^ 

Probably  no  American  writer  of  to-day  excels  Opie 
Read  in  the  delineation  of  strange  characters.  He  loves 
to  dwell  upon  Southern  scenes,  before  and  after  the  war, 
and  so  vividly  are  these  quaint  pictures  drawn  that  the 
reader  seems  to  see  the  characters  of  his  story  as  plainly 
as  though  the  skill  of  an  artist  had  painted  their  por- 
traits. "  Odd  Folks  "  will  please  all  travelers  who  enjoy 
a  good  story,  well  told,  and  should  meet  with  as  heavy  <' 
sale  as  "The  Captain's  Romance"  has  enjoyed.  It  A 
peculiarly  fresh  and  sparkling,  and  a  sure  cure  for  lone, 
liness  or  the  blues.  The  remarkably  clever  pen-drawn 
characters  wiil  live  through  many  editions  as  true  type^ 
of  American  life. 


ODD  F0LK5.     Cloth,  $i.oo;  paper,  25c. 

THE  CAPTAIN'S  ROMANCE.    Cloth,  ^i.oo*  paper,  25c 


For  wile  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  prio*. 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
^  Queen  street,  Londoo.  114  Fifth  Avenue,  New  Voi*t 


THE  KING^S  WARD 

Jessie  Van  Zile  Belden 

Being  a  chronicle  of  events  in  the  life  of  Charles  Norton, 
Knt.,  from  the  24th  of  June,  1536,  to  the  Feaste  of 
Sainte  John  tlie  Baptiste  in  1537. 

Gathered  from  ancient  and  musty  documents  wherein 
are  recorded  stirring  tales  of  uprisings  in  the 
West  and  North. 


^     ^     Cloth,  $1.00     ^     ^ 

"  There  is  not  a  dull  page  in  the  little  book." — Post,  Denver. 

"  Chivalry's  charm  is  endless  and  we  who  live  in  a  quieter 
time  are  fain  to  lose  ourselves  in  dreams  of  the  pageantry  of  old." 
— Post  Express,  Rochester. 

"  It  is  a  straightforward  nairative,  told  in  keeping  with  the 
assumed  character  of  the  narrator,  and  has  a  pleasant  ending." 
—  The  Plain  Dealer,  Cleveland. 

"An  atmosjihere  of  knightly  courage,  chivalrous  loyalty  and 
pure  love,  distinguishes  this  story  of  the  sixteenth  century.  The 
clash  of  arms,  the  entanglements  of  political  intrigue,  a  faint 
shadow  of  human  sin,  of  revolt  and  the  V)rave  rescue  of  fair  gentle- 
women, separated  lovers  happih^  reunited,  these  are  the  ele- 
ments upon  which  the  interest  of  the  story  concentrates." — Times, 
Brooklyn. 

"  Of  course,  it  has  the  lady  fair,  the  castle,  the  knavish 
vassals  and  all  the  other  ingredients  that  are  generally  looked  for 
in  nar.fatives  dealing  with  that  romantic  period.  Added  to  this 
is  the  flavor  of  religious  superstition  and  a  ghost — and  what  more 
could  be  desired  ?" — Journal,  New  York. 

"As  sweet  and  old-time  love  story  as  has  ever  been  told. 
A  poem  without  the  boiands  of  rhyme." — Courier,  Boston,  Mass. 

"  It  abounds  in  stirring  deeds  and  chivalric  sentiment." — 
Globe- Democrat^  St.  Louis. 

"  It  is  simply  told  in  purest  English." — ^^7,rr//><rr,  Newark, 
N.  J, 

For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  price. 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
q6  Que«n  Street,  London.  114  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York. 


lartiia  WasMngioQ  Cook  Book 

A  COMPENDIUM    OF  COOKERY 
AND  RELIABLE  RECIPES. 


fc^olly  Tllostrated,  3J5Pa^e» 

lamo.    Oil  Cloth  Cover,    -    .    ^    50  Cts. 
Paper,  (Neely's  Popular  Library,),    25    " 

Over  1,000,000  copies  of  this  popular  and  valuable  book  have  been  sold.  A  muat 
comprehensive  work,  giving  all  the  minute  details  pertaining  to  its  subject. 
Contains  hints  and  suggestions  from  the  best  housewives  of  our  land.  An  in- 
dispensable adjunct  to  every  culinary  department. 


oiile's  Mim  Boot. 

999,999 


FACTS  OF  USE 
TO  EVERYBODY. 


Paper  Cover.  Neely's  Popular  Library,  25c, 

This  is  an  invaluable  book  of  ready  reference,  applicable  to  almost  every  pos- 
sible industrial  and  domestic  requirement.  It  gives  information  enibling  one  to 
meet  everyday  emergencies  intelligently  and  promptly.  Compiled  from  the  Ijest 
medical  and  other  authorities.  So  indexed  that  any  refjuiied  ite-a  can  be  in 
stantl]-  found.  No  other  similar  book  in  the  market  to  compare  with  it  for  ef^ 
dvncy  and  value. 


Por  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post.paid  on  receipt  of  price. 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
06  Qy@«ii  Strict.  y}M9n>         114  PJf<*^  AvenM«(  New  S'ofU 


Remarks  by  Bill  Nye 


THE 

FUNNIEST 

OF 

BOOKS. 

"It  will  cure  the  bitscji 
quicker  than  the  doctor  and 
at  half  the  price."— iVifa 
YorA  Herald, 

Over  500  Pages. 
Pully  Illustrated. 

Cloth,  $1.50  ;  Paper,  50c. 


LAUGH  AND   GROW  FAT. 

A  collection  of  the  best  writings  of  this  great  author,  mosr 
profusely  illustrated,  with  over  500  pages.  It  is  the  funniest  ot 
hooks.  Bill  Nye  needs  no  introduction.  The  mention  of  th« 
book  is  enough. 

"  I  have  passed  through  an  earthquake  and  an  Indian  out^ 
brsak,  but  1  would  rather  ride  an  earthquake  without  saddle  01 
bridle,  than  to  bestride  a  successful  broncho  eruption." — Bill  Nye. 

-■'Age  brings  caution  and  a  lot  of  shop-worn  experience, 
puichased  at  the  highest  market  price.  Time  brings  vain  re« 
^rets  and  wisdom  teeth  that  can  be  left  in  a  glass  of  water  ov«f 
eight."— 5///iV"K. 

UPASES  FROM  THE  PEN  OF  BILL  NYE.   192  PAGES.  PAPER,  38& 
WIT  AND  HUMOE.    BY  NYE  AND  RILEY.     PAPER,  2So 


tor  sa'e  evftrywhere,  or  ssnt  post.paiJ  on  receipt  of  prlc«. 

v.  TO.f^NYSON  NRELY,  Publisher, 
Qm«4;p  s?»j-^^4»  l-oadoji      .     n4.  Fifth  ^vettii«.  N?w 


One  of  Earth^s  Daughters* 

By  ELLEN    ROBERTS. 

Neely's  Popular  Library. 

Paper,  25c. 
There  have  been  books  which  secured  a 
tremendous  sale  through  the  bitter  attack  of 
newspaper  critics;  wiiile  others  succeeded 
through  the  host  of  favorable  comments  that 
greeted  their  appearance  in  the  arena  of  public 
estimation.  Faint  praise  accomplishes  nothing 
— indeed,  it  is  never  deserved.  The  verdict 
of  these  experienced  critics  has  been  unusually 
favorable  toward  "  One  of  Earth's  Daughters," 
and  we  feel  justified  in  offering  it  to  our 
patrons  as  a  story  well  worth  reading,  which 
cannot  be  said  of  all  the  novels  launched  upon 
the  public  these  days  by  enterprising  publishers. 
It  is  a  genuine  pleasure  to  come  across  a  book 
so  carefully  and  conscientiously  written,  and  in 
which  the  characters  fulfil  their  destinies.  A 
vein  of  love  drifting  through  the  whole  fabric 
leavens  it  without  any  erotic  tendencies.  Taken 
in  all,  "  One  of  Earth's  Daughters"  is  a  very  read* 
able  little  volume,  and  shows  commendable  dis- 
cernment on  the  part  of  the  publisher.  The 
world  is  always  better  for  such  moral  books. 


For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  p  !c8. 

r.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  PubSislser 
06  Que«n  Streeti  London,  114  Fifth  Avenue.  New  Voil^ 


Through  Field  and  Fallow. 

A  Choice  Collection  of  Original  Poems 

By  JEAN  HOOPER   PAGE. 

CLOTH,  GILT  TOP,  $1.00. 

IT  IS  NOT  always  the  brilliant  work  which  appeals 
to  us  most  keenly.  Sarcasm  and  rhetoric  have  their 
place,  but  the  book  that  lies  on  the  desk  and  is 
found  in  the  mending-basket  is  the  book,  nine  times  out 
of  ten,  that  deals  with  every-day  life  and  sweeps  across 
the  strings  of  the  heart.  While  Mrs.  Page's  work* 
"Through  Field  and  Fallow,"  often  touches  the  subtle 
minor  chords,  it  invariably  swells  to  the  triumphant 
major  and  rings  clear  and  true  in  the  sweetness  of  undy- 
ing hope  and  unquenchable  faith. 

Much  of  Mrs.  Page's  work  has  appeared  first  in  our 
great  daily  newspapers,  but  its  life  has  been  less  ephem- 
eral than  theirs.  Here  and  there  a  woman  has  treasured 
some  bit  in  her  scrap  book  ;  a  man  has  clipped  a  verse 
and  put  it  away  in  the  drawer  of  his  desk  marked 
''private."  Sooner  or  later  in  this  little  volume  the 
eader  will  find  the  poem  that  was  written  for  him. 

Father  Ryan  once  wrote  :  "To  uplift  the  downcast, 
to  sweeten  any  life,  to  feel  that  we  in  some  way  have 
helped  to  lighten  the  great  burden  that  rests  upo» 
mankind — this  is  the  only  real  compensation  that  coraef 
to  the  poet."     This  recompense  will  be  Mrs.  Page's. 


For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paii  on  receipt  of  prloe. 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
^*  Queea  SU^et,  I       .  n,  u^  Fifth  Avenue,  New  Yor^. 


An  Unusual  Husband 

By  CHANDOS  FULTON 

VMly's  Popular  Library,  Cloth,  $1.00 ;  Paper,  25  centi 


On  the  woof  of  a  very  dramatic  story  of  a  dual  marital  lif? 
Mr.  Chandos  Fulton  has  embroidered  an  interesting  experience 
in  materialization — the  most  advanced  development  of  later-day 
spiritualism,  and  has  produced  a  very  readable  story  of  con- 
temporaneous metropolitan  life.  The  characters  are  drawn  with 
a  free  hand,  and  the  action  of  the  story  is  brisk  and  interesting. 
The  spiritualistic  episode  is  novel  and  interesting  alike  to  skeptics 
and  converts.  The  novel  should,  and  doubtless  will,  have  a  large 
circulation. — Leslie  s  Weekly, 

The  hero  leads  a  double  life.  He  is  John  Boyd,  with  a  wif^ 
in  New  York,  and  James  Boyle,  with  another  wife  in  Boston,-— 
Spirit  of  the  Times, 

Boyle  IS  extricated  by  marrying  a  certain  Jack.  —  The  Mirror  ^ 
St.  Louis, 

A  spiritualistic  atmosphere  is  wrought  into  the  story,  -vfhicli 
's  entertainingly  written. — Dramatic  Mirror. 

A  tale  of  a  female  spiritualist,  who  believes  herself  to  oe 
married  to  what  she  terms  hei  *'  spirit  affinity." — San  Franc'sc* 
Mews^Letter. 

A  peculiar  story  of  a  widow,  who  was  an  enthusiastic  spirit- 
aalist,  who  loved  and  constantly  communed  with  her  spirit  hus- 
band, the  mystery  of  which  is  explained  during  the  progress  oi 
the  story, — Philadelphia  Times. 

Mr.  Fulton  is  an  expert  in  spiritualism,  and  uses  his  experi- 
ences  to  expose  some  bogus  manifestations  and  to  develop  hi« 
Ctlrious  plot. — Author's  League. 

The  hei-o  leads  a  double  life. — Boston  Ideal 


For  sale  ev9rywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  prfe* 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher 
^  Qi)$9n  Street,  Lof|<|9P  iia  Fifth  Avenu^^  ^i9W  tfOi^ 


NEELY'S  TOURIST  LIBRABf, 

Paper,    Twenty-five    Cents. 

Na 

1.  The  White  Company.    Bv  A.  Conan  Dovle 

2.  The  Deemster.     P.y  Hall  Caine. 

3.  A  Romance  of  Two  Worlds.     By  Marie  CoreiU. 
f4  Treas  lie  Island.     By  Robert  L.  Stevenson. 

'  5.  The  Sign  of  the  Four.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle.  f 

3  Kidnapped.     By  Robert  L.  Stevenson. 

7.  The  Bondman.     By  Hall  Caine. 

8.  Michael  Clarke.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

9.  Sport  Royal.     By  Anthony  Hope. 

iO.  The  Man  in  Black.     By  Stanley  J.  Weyraan. 

11.  Uncle  Tom's  (  abin.     By  Mrs.  Stowe. 

13.  Beyond  the  City.     By  A.  Conan  Doyle. 

13.  Webster's  Pronoiiucinff  Dictionary. 

14.  Cosmopolis.     By  Paul  Bourget. 

15.  People's  Reference  Book. 

16.  Around  the  World  in  Eighty  Days.     By  Jules  VeniC 

17.  In  Darkest  England.     By  General  Booth. 

18.  Ships  That  Pass  ia  the  Nig^ht.     By  Beatrice  Harradet., 

19.  Nance,  a  Kentucky  Belle.     By  Miss  Greene. 

30,  Mark  Twain,  His  Life  and  Work.     By  Will  M.  Clemes?. 

21.  Tom  Brown's  School  Davs.     By  Thomas  Hughas. 

22.  A  Holiday  in  Bed.     By  j.  M.  Barrie. 

23  By  R  ght.  Not  Law.     By  R.  H.  Sherard. 

24.  The  Child  of  the  Ball.     By  De  Alarcon. 

25.  Health  and  Beauty.     By  Emily  S.  Bouton 

26.  Lydia.     By  S'dney  Christian. 

27.  Rose  and  Ninette.     By  Alphonse  Daudet. 
38.  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities.     Bv  Charles  Dickens. 

29.  The  Last  of  the  Van  Slacks.     By  Edward  S.  Van  Ziie. 

30.  Love  Letters  of  a  Worldly  Woman.   By  Mrs.  W.  K,  CIiffc4'4 
81.  Claudea's  Island.     By  Esme  Stuart. 

33.  At  Love's  Extremes.     By  Thompson. 

33  The  Minister's  Weak  Point.    By  Maclure. 

34.  Ra<;hel  Dene.     By  Robert  Buchanan. 

35.  Social  Etiquette.     By  Emily  S.  Bouton. 

38  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables.     By  Nathaniel  HawthorOu 

37.  At  Market  Value.     By  Grant  Allen, 

38.  Her  Victim.     By  an  Indian  Exile. 

39.  When  a  Man's  Single.     By  J.  M.  Barrie.  \ 

40.  A  Daughter  of  India.     By  An  Indian  Exile.  t 

41.  Dream  Life.     By  Ik.  Marvel. 

42.  Reveries  of  a  Bachelor.     By  Ik.  Marvel. 

43.  Christopher  Columbus.     By  Franc  B,  Wilkie. 

44.  Dodo.     By  E.  F.  Benson. 

Fiff  tale  everywhere  or  sent  postpaid  on  receipt  o/ price  by  the  Publisher 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY, 

^  OUEEN  STREET  114  FIFTH  AVE^a5?« 


RACHEL  DENE, 

By  ROBERT  BUCHANAN, 

.  .  .  Author  of  . .  . 

**The  Charlatan,"    "The  Shadow  of  the  Sword,"    "God  and  the  Man.<* 

Cloth,  $1.25  ;  paper,  35c. 

HarrlibHr^r  relcgram     " '  Rachel  Dene '  is  one  of  Robert  Buchanan's  best  works.'' 

(.'Inc-lnnali  Tribune       "  This  is  a  good  story." 

Koeky  Muuiilain  Newa  "  '  Rachel  Dene,'  by  Robert  Buchanan  isone  of  hisl:)est 
stories."' 

Becord  Union  "  Mr.  Buchanan  has  not  presented  a  stronger  story.  He  pre- 
faces it  with  the  story  of  his  life  in  literature,  and  gives  the  writers  and  am- 
bitious youths  some  excellent  r.dvice." 

Commercial        '"  \n  excellent  story,  full  of  str'/ng  points,  both  constructively  and 

Bulletin  from  a  literary  standpoint.    It  is  practical.  It  deals  v.itii  tlie  daik 

and  bright  sides  of  life,  but  always  to  show  the  advantage  of  the  bright  side." 

Nashville  t'lirlsliau        "  The  book  is  clean  and  wholesome— enough  of  complex- 

Advocate  ity  in  the  plot  to  furnish  the  reader  with  occasional  sur- 

prises." 

Fallerton  .News        "  A  very  fascinating  tale." 

Western  Christian        "Fascinating,  stimulating— a  novel  cf  love,  murder,  jeal- 

Adrocate  ousy,  false  imprisonment,  escape,  and  vindication." 

Boston  Idras  "Its  elenients  are  excellently  characteristic — very  likely  due  to 
its  being  an  accurate  oictuiefor  which  commendation  is  due." 

The  -imericaii       "  Is  fully  equal,  if  iiot  superior,  to  his  former  novels." 


The  Gates  of  Dawn, 

By  FERGUS  HUME, 

Aatbor  of  "Mystery  of  a  Hansom  Cab,"  "Miss  Mepliistopheles,"etc.,ete. 
Cloth,  $1.35;  paper,  25c. 

Otis  Library       "A  remarkably  versatile  and  ingenious  romance,  replete  with  vivid 

Bulletin  descriptions  and  stirring  incidents." 

N'ashTillp  Banner        "  A  well-arranged  plot,  and  the  interest  of  the  story  is  well- 

sustaint-'d." 

Mr.  Hume  has  built  around  a  group  of  interesting  characters  a  stoiy  of  th" 
O.d  order  of  plot  and  counterplot,  where  tliere  is  mystery  surrounding  the  hero- 
.ine's  birth— a  we.ilthv  man,  in  disnjuise,  meets  and  loves  her— a  wicked  female  vil- 
■jain  brings  dinger  to  the  course  ofthcir  true  love— a  good  friend  aids  them  in  tlieir 
hour  of  need,  and  all  ends  well.  The  j>eople  who  m;?ke  up  this  story  are  "  A  doc- 
tor addicted  to  oi)ium,  a  pair  of  gypsies,  a  rec'use  lady,  a  lovely  huntre.is,  and  a 
sporting  pardon."  besides  the  hero,  a  lord  of  high  degree,  Pete,  a  fox  terrier,  and 
Simon,  a  liorse.  There  is  a  mysterious  batchin";  of  plots  anior,g  the  gyii^ies.  and 
much  propiiL:>ying.  The  parson  is  a  ""  siiiple.  kindlv  old  fellow,  given  to  strong 
ale,  terriers,  and  bluster.''  J'here  is  a  great  house  witn  a  witch,  who  holds  nightly 
orgies  in  the  empty  rooms  at  midnight,  from  wliich  come  cries  of  tortured  womea 
and  dvint,'  ne;i.  while  by  day  this  witch  "  tires  her  head,  decks  herself  with  gems, 
clothes  herself  in  rich  grarments,"  and  makes  a  mystery  of  herself  generally,  ItiS 
by  far  Fergus  Hume's  oest  book. 


For  sale  everywhere,  or  sent  post-paid  on  receipt  of  price, 

F.  TENNYSON  NEELY,  Publisher, 
96  Queen  Street,  Londc:  114  Fifth  /.  >:3ue.  New  York. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

Wilmer 
1099