SUPPER AFTER A HARD MARCH.
“ Come here ! ” he called;— his accent was worse than his hat. “ Who are you ? ” I responded as I executed the movement of “tear cartridge.” He laughed and then invited me to “come and see.” Meanwhile I was trying to draw my rammer, hut this operation was arrested hy the dry click of several gunlocks, and I found myself covered hy half a dozen rifles, and my friend of the steeple-crown, with less urbanity in his intonation, called out to me to “ drop that.” In our brief intercourse he had acquired a curious influence over me. I did so.
My captors were of Kearny’s division, on picket. They told me they thought I was deserting until they saw me try to load. I could not account for their being where they were, and when they informed me that they had Jackson surrounded and that he must surrender next day, though I openly scouted the notion, I must own the weight of evidence seemed to be with them. The discussion of this and kindred topics was continued until a late hour that night with the sergeant of the guard at Kearny’s headquarters, where I supped in unwonted luxury on liard-tack and “ genuine ” coffee, the sergeant , explaining that the fare was no better because of our destruction of their supplies at the Junction. Kearny’s orderly gave me a blanket, and so I passed the night. We were astir early in the morning (August 30th), and I saw Kearny as he passed with his staff to the front,— a spare, erect, military figure, looking every inch the fighter he was. He fell three days later, killed by some of my own brigade.
Near the Stone Bridge I found about 500 other prisoners, mostly stragglers picked up along the line of our march. Here my polite provost-sergeant turned me over to other guardians, and after draw-131
completely confused what vague ideas I had of the situation, but we must have been near our extreme left at Sudley Church, and never very far from my own brigade, which was warmly engaged that day and the day following. Toward evening we were again within sight of Sudley Church. I could see the light of fires among the trees, as if cooking for the wounded was going on, and the idea occurred to me that there I could easily learn the exact position of my proper command. Once clear of my major and his polyglot “Pelicans,” the rest would be plain sailing.
My flank movement was easily effected, and I suddenly found myself the most private soldier on that field; there seemed to be nobody else anywhere near. I passed a farm-house, which seemed to have been used as a hospital, and where I picked up a Zouave fez. Some cavalrymen were there, one of whom advised me “not to go down there,” but as he gave no special reason and did not urge his views, I paid no heed to him, but went on my way down a long barren slope, ending in a small water-course at the bottom, beyond which the ground rose abruptly and was covered by small growth. The deepening twilight and strange solitude about me, with a remembrance of what had happened a year ago on this same ground, made me feel uncomfortably lonely. By this time I was close to the stream, and while noting the lay of the land on the opposite bank with regard to choice of a crossing-place, I became aware of a man observing me from the end of the cut above. I could not distinguish the color of his uniform, but the crown of his hat tapered suspiciously, I thought, and instinctively I dropped the butt of my rifle to the ground and reached behind me for a cartridge.
ing rations, hard-tack, coffee, and sugar, we took the road to Centreville. That thoroughfare was thronged with troops, trains, and batteries, and we had to stand a good deal of chaff on the way, at our forlorn appearance. We were a motley crowd enough, certainly, and it did look as if our friends in blue were having their return innings. More than once that day as I thought of the thin line I had left, I wondered how the boys were doing, for disturbing rumors came to us as we lay in a field near Centreville, exchanging rude badinage across the cordon of sentries surrounding• us. Other prisoners came in from time to time who brought the same unvarying story, “ Jackson hard-pressed —no news of Longstreet yet.” So the day wore on. Toward evening there was a noticeable stir in the camps around us, a continual riding to and fro of couriers and orderlies, and now we thought we could hear more distinctly the deep-toned, jarring growl which had interjected itself at intervals all the afternoon through the trivial buzz about us. Watchful of indications, we noted, too, that the drift of wagons and ambulances was from the battle-field, and soon orders came for us to take the road in the same direction. The cannonading down the pike was sensibly nearer now, and at times we could catch even the roll of musketry, and once we thought we could distinguish, far off and faint, the prolonged, murmurous sound familiar to our ears as the charging shout of the gray people—but this may have been fancy. All the same, we gave tongue totheery, andshoutsof “Longstreet! Longstreet’s at ’em, boys ! Hurrah for Longstreet! ” went up from our ranks, while the guards trudged beside us in sulky silence. . . .
CONFEDERATE CAMP-SERVANT ON THE MARCH.
A LOUISIANA “ PELICAN.”
been in with the ‘Pelicans,’” he added, as he assigned me to company “F.”
The command was as unlike my own as it was possible to conceive. Such a congress of nations only the tosmopolitan Crescent City could have sent forth, and the tongues of Babel seemed resurrected in its speech; English, German, French, and Spanish, all were represented, to say nothing of Doric brogue and local “gumbo.” There was, moreover, a vehemence of utterance and gesture curiously at variance with the reticence of our Virginians. In point of fact, we burned little powder that day, and my promised distinction as a “ Pelican ”pro tern, was cheaply earned. The battalion did a good deal of counter-marching, and some skirmishing, but most of the time we were acting as support to a section of Cutshaw’s battery. The tedium of this last service my companions relieved by games of “seven up,” with a greasy, well-thumbed deck, and in smoking cigarettes, rolled with great dexterity, between the deals. Once, when a detail was ordered to go some distance under fire to fill the canteens of the company, a hand was dealt to determine who should go, and the decision was accepted by the loser without demur. Our numerous shifts of position