CAPTAIN RANDOLPH RECEIVES ORDERS.
Rodney Gray was an overseer now at all events, and being one of those
uneasy fellows who must have something to occupy their minds at all
times, and fond of hunting, he would have been as happy and contented
as he wanted to be, if there had been no such things as Home Guards
in the world. The Yankees at Baton Rouge he did not bother his head
about. He had charge of 400 acres of land, 100 of which were under
cultivation, and fifteen work hands—just enough to bring him under the
exemption clause of the Conscription Act. For the privilege of staying
at home and overseeing these hands the Confederate Government demanded
of him 3000 pounds of salt pork and beef, or their equivalent in bacon,
and Rodney expected to furnish the meat himself. There were many hogs
running loose in the woods, and as the negro driver who had charge of
the plantation previous to Rodney's coming had taken no pains to "tame"
them by feeding them regularly, they were as wild as deer, and Rodney
intended to hunt them as he would have hunted deer—"with rifle and
with hounds."
The "great house" in which Rodney lived was very unlike the same
dwelling on the home plantation. It was built of unhewn logs and
contained two rooms, the wide hall between them being used as the
dining room, both summer and winter. The kitchen, which stood a little
distance away, was built of logs, and so were the negro cabins,
corn-cribs, smoke houses, and the little stable in which his riding
horse would find shelter in stormy weather; but taken as it stood the
plantation was a valuable one, for, concealed somewhere in the dark
recesses of the woods, that hemmed the cultivated fields in on all
sides, were several hundred bales of cotton that was worth sixty cents
a pound in Northern markets.
The driver had been so careless with his work and so lax with the
hands that Rodney found plenty of things demanding his attention,
but he could not think of settling down to business so long as Dick
remained with him. When they parted it might be forever, and Rodney
was reluctant to let him go. Mr. Martin told them that they need not
come to the city under a week expecting to hear any news from the mail
carrier, but they did not wait as long as that without hearing news
from another source, and of the most exciting character too. On the
morning of the third day after their arrival at the plantation, Dick
looked over Rodney's shoulder as they sat at the breakfast table in the
wide hall, and saw half a dozen armed men ride up to the bars. They
stood there a minute or two looking up and down the road, and then
three of them dismounted and came into the yard. At the same instant
another similar squad came in sight and also rode up and stopped at the
bars.
"Rebs for a dollar," whispered Dick.
"And not Home Guards, either," replied Rodney, as the two arose from
the table and walked out to meet the visitors. "They are strangers."
"Well," said the foremost, who might have been an officer, though
there was nothing on his coat to show it, "how does it come that a
couple of likely lads like yourselves are here in citizen's clothes
while everybody else is in the army?"
"Been there and came home to take a little rest," answered Rodney,
feeling in his pocket for his discharge. "But everybody else isn't in
the army by a long shot, as you would know if you belonged in this
country. Read that, and tell me if you are out conscripting."
"We're out for more serious business than that," replied the soldier,
reading the discharges one after the other, and handing them back to
their owners. "Any Yanks about here?"
"None nearer than Baton Rouge that we know of."
"How large an army have they got there?"
The boys were obliged to say they couldn't tell; but they knew that
General Williams had come down from Vicksburg with his whole force.
"We know that, too, and are following him up to lick him."
We don't know how to give an idea, in words, of the exclamation that
broke from Dick Graham's lips when he heard this. It was the famous
"rebel yell," long, loud, and piercing; and when the soldiers at the
bars heard it they turned in their saddles and lifted their hats, and
needed no other evidence to prove that Dick was or had been one of
themselves. Then Dick demanded if there was going to be a fight right
there in his friend's door-yard.
"It'll happen somewhere about here," replied the soldier. "Better find
guns, you two, and join in. It's bound to be a victory for our side and
you want to share in the honor. We're going to have the _Arkansas_ to
help us, and she is a match for all the vessels the Yanks have in the
river. She proved it by what she did up at Yazoo."
After a little more conversation the boys learned that their visitor
belonged to Breckenridge's division, which had been detached from the
force at Vicksburg as soon as General Williams withdrew and Farragut
started down the river, and they were simply scouting in advance of
the main body, which was to be reinforced by all the conscripts and
regular troops at Camp Pinckney.
"If you want help, why don't you bring into your ranks all the Home
Guards around here?" said Rodney.
"Are there Home Guards about here? I am glad to know it, for we need
all the help we can raise. Who's their captain and where are his
headquarters?"
Rodney gave the desired information, adding that if his visitor did not
think it safe to venture as far as Mooreville with the small force at
his command, he and Dick would volunteer to take a message to Captain
Randolph. "But you will have to put it in writing," said he, "for Tom
will not believe us. And you must caution him against letting his men
know that there is going to be a fight; for if they find that out
they'll scatter like rats in a pantry."
"Like Home Guards everywhere," replied the soldier in disgust. "I'll
tell you what I'll do," said he, after thinking a moment. "I'll get a
line from the colonel commanding our advance ordering Captain Randolph
to hold his company in readiness to march at a moment's notice, and
I'll either bring or send it here to-night if you will deliver it. Of
course you'll not say anything to him or anybody else that will get to
the enemy's ears."
"Oh, you needn't think to surprise the Yanks," exclaimed Dick. "They
have had notice already that you are coming. But we'll get Tom out if
we can."
The soldier asked a few more questions that the boys could not answer
satisfactorily touching the length, shape, and strength of the Federal
lines at Baton Rouge, and then joined his men, who moved down the road
toward Mooreville.
"Did you forget Captain Roach and his conscripts?" asked Dick, when
they were out of sight.
"I left them out on purpose," said Rodney. "But of course I shall
speak to Roach about it when we take that note to Tom Randolph. His
conscripts are all my near neighbors, and mostly Union men, who
wouldn't be of the least use in a fight; and, Dick," here Rodney sunk
his voice to a whisper, "if I can do it without risk to myself, I shall
go out of my way to warn them of what's coming."
"Oh, you traitor!" cried Dick.
"You would do the same if you were in my fix. Of course there are some
I would not dare speak to, for they would tell where they got the
information; but those I can trust to keep a still tongue in their
heads will be warned, if I can find them."
The boys went back to their unfinished breakfast and ate heartily,
as they had often done while men all around them were forming in
line of battle and shells were bursting over their heads. But still
Rodney was anxious, for the coming contest might bring great loss
to his father. There were many bales of cotton concealed within a
circle of a few miles of the place where he was sitting; both sides
had proclaimed it contraband of war, and it seemed impossible that a
line of battle could go far in any direction without discovering some
of it; and the destruction of part would lead to the destruction of
the whole, for some of those who lost, Mr. Randolph for instance,
would be mean enough to point out the hiding-place of the rest. This
reflection troubled Rodney, but before he sat down to another meal he
had something besides cotton to think about. The scouts of the opposing
armies came together down the road, out of sight, but within plain
hearing of the two boys, who ran to the bars and listened to the sounds
of the conflict. They heard the sharp, quick reports of the carbines,
and the cheers and yells of the combatants; and when the yells became
fainter and at last died away altogether, and the cheers grew in volume
until they became one continuous cheer, they looked at each other with
the same startling question in their eyes.
"That's the first encounter, and we're whipped," said Dick. "Now if the
victorious Yanks come back this way—then what?"
"Our discharges and passes and permits will be of no more use than so
much blank paper," answered Rodney. "They'll say that if we haven't
given information of some sort to the enemy already, we will do it the
first chance we get, and so we'd better trot right along with them to
Baton Rouge."
"That's what I am afraid of. I don't want to go to Baton Rouge."
"Neither do I; and so I am going to do as other and better men have
done under similar circumstances."
"Afoot or on horseback?" inquired Dick, who knew that his friend had
resolved to take to the woods.
"On horseback, to save our animals from being stolen, and to give color
to the story that we have gone to town," replied Rodney. "Come on,
for there's no telling how soon the Yanks may come down the road at a
gallop."
While one started for the stable yard, the other ran in to tell his
black housekeeper that he was going to ride toward Mooreville, where he
would remain until the Federals had left the country. Yes, there had
been a sharp skirmish down there in the woods, he said in reply to the
woman's anxious inquiries, the Confederates had been driven from the
field, and he and Dick thought it best to get out of sight for awhile.
"The Federals may not come back this way," added Rodney, "but if they
do, tell the truth and don't try to pass me off for a Union man. They
know as well as you do that I have served my time in the Confederate
army, and there's nothing to gain by telling a different story. If
anyone asks for me, you can say that I have ridden toward Mooreville."
Well, he and Dick did ride toward Mooreville, but they did not go
there. Not knowing how far the darkeys could be trusted, they went down
the road half a mile or so, and turning into the woods hitched their
horses close together so that they would not call to each other, and
finally took up a position from which they could see the house and
anybody who approached it. These precautions were not taken any too
soon, for the Federals did scout back that way, and when they came in
sight they were riding at top speed. They knew that a large party of
horsemen had passed along the road before them, for they saw the prints
of many hoofs in the dust. Some of them kept on without drawing rein,
while others went into the house and all over it; but as no contraband
goods rewarded their search they left it standing when they went away.
And although the hands all left their work in the field and ran to the
dwelling when they saw the blue-coats surrounding it, they did not
improve the opportunity to secure their freedom, as the boys thought
they would. They returned to their work when the soldiers departed, and
Rodney and Dick thought it safe to go back to the house.
Their next visitor was a single Confederate soldier, who arrived just
at dusk with a note addressed to "Captain Thomas Randolph, C. S. A.,
Commdg. Mooreville Troops." This man Rodney took into the house and
fed as if he had been a long-lost brother, for he was anxious to learn
something about the battle that was soon to take place; but, although
the messenger said he was orderly at headquarters, he could or would
give very little information. Breckenridge was rapidly feeling his way
toward the city, he said; he would soon be reinforced by the command
of General Ruggles, which would be picked up at Camp Pinckney, and
with the _Arkansas_ to help and clean the Yankee gunboats out of the
river, there was no doubt but that a decisive victory awaited him; and
having finished his supper, and said all he had to say, the messenger
mounted his horse and rode off. Five minutes later Rodney and Dick
had mounted theirs and were riding hard to carry that note to Captain
Randolph. They stopped at Rodney's home just long enough to put the
folks on nettles with the very meager information they had to give, and
a quarter of an hour afterward were sitting in Mrs. Randolph's parlor,
waiting for Tom to show himself. When he came he was accompanied by his
mother.
"Hallo, boys!" exclaimed Tom, with great apparent cordiality, while
Mrs. Randolph shook hands with them one after the other. "You don't
know how I have longed to see you both in order to——"
"That's all right," interposed Rodney, who knew there wasn't a word of
truth in what Tom had set out to say. "But if you will excuse me—here
is an order that I was requested to place in your hands."
"Who's got any right to order me around?" exclaimed Tom, taking the
note and fixing his gaze upon the writing on the outside. "'Captain
Thomas Randolph, C. S. A.,'" he read aloud. "Somebody has made a big
mistake, for I don't belong to the army of the Confederate States, and
never did. What's in it?"
"I don't know," answered Rodney; while Mrs. Randolph suggested that it
might be a good plan for him to open it and find out. Tom did so with
evident reluctance, and before he had fairly had time to make himself
master of its contents, he turned as white as a sheet and fell heavily
into the nearest chair.
"Oh, my dear boy! What is the matter? What could have disturbed you
so?" cried his mother, who was really alarmed.
"I'll not obey it!" shouted Captain Tom, as soon as he could speak.
"Who is this Colonel Clark, who takes it upon himself to command me to
hold my company ready to move at a moment's notice, and what does he
want of the company anyhow?"
"No doubt he wants you to help——" began Rodney.
"But how does he know that there is such a fellow as I am in the world,
and that I command a company of State troops?" continued Tom, who was
almost beside himself with terror. Acting on his own responsibility
and serving under the eye of a Confederate officer were two widely
different things. His mother took the note from his hand and read it,
and she, too, became visibly affected.
"What can be the meaning of it?" she asked of Rodney.
"It means that there is going to be a battle somewhere in this
vicinity, and that Tom must bring his men out to help," was the reply.
Rodney had predicted just such a scene as this and was prepared to
enjoy it.
"A battle?" gasped Mrs. Randolph.
"Somewhere in this vicinity!" echoed Tom.
"That's what they tell me, and indeed there has been a skirmish
already. Breckenridge is coming here to drive the Yankees out of Baton
Rouge, and the _Arkansas_ is coming to assist him."
Tom and his mother were too amazed to speak. They stared stupidly at
the bearer of these evil tidings, and listened in a dazed sort of way
while he told what he had heard and seen since morning. There was one
thing Tom and his mother could not understand, and that was how Colonel
Clark, whoever he might be, knew there was a company of Home Guards at
Mooreville and that Tom was commander of them. But of course Rodney did
not enlighten them on that point.
"You enlisted for just such work as this," said he.
"No, I didn't!" shouted Tom. "And what's more, I won't go. I'm as close
to the Yankees as I want to be, and besides I don't belong to the
service any longer. I've resigned."
This was news to the boys, who could scarcely refrain from showing how
surprised they were to hear it. They were disappointed as well, for if
Tom told the truth they would lose the fun of hearing how he took to
the bushes to escape duty.
"Of course if your resignation has been accepted by the Governor," said
Rodney, "why, then——"
"It hasn't been accepted yet," replied Tom, speaking before he thought.
"I only sent it to-day."
"Then you are still in the service and can be held to duty," said Dick;
and Captain Tom and his mother both heard the sigh of satisfaction
that escaped him as he uttered the words. "I have known men to go into
action and be killed after their term of service expired."
"But I won't do it, I bet you," whined Tom, with tears in his eyes. "Do
you think it will be a very hard fight?"
"It can't help it; it's bound to be, and you'll see more dead and
wounded men lying around than you—— Gracious! I'm glad they can't
call on you and me, Dick."
"Why, won't you have to go?" faltered Mrs. Randolph.
"No, ma'am. We showed our discharges to-day, and they never said a word
about ordering us out. They can't, for we have served our time."
This was the heaviest blow yet, and Captain Tom came so near wilting
under it that Rodney's heart smote him and he determined to take his
leave. So he got upon his feet, and Dick followed his example.
"What will they do to Tom if he fails to obey this order?" asked
Mrs. Randolph, who, in all the trying ordeals through which she had
passed on her cowardly son's account, had never before been so badly
frightened.
"I couldn't obey it if I wanted to," cried Tom. "My men are scattered
for miles through the country, and I couldn't spend the night in
hunting them up."
"They may call it disobedience of orders if you don't do it," replied
Rodney, who wanted to laugh. "If I were in your place I would make the
effort."
"And run the risk of being shot? But suppose my men refuse to turn
out?" said Tom, a bright idea coming into his mind.
"Then you will be blameless, and all you have to do will be to report
to the colonel and tell him that you are ready for any duty he may
assign you."
"And can't I stay at home any way I can fix it?" inquired Tom, who made
no effort to conceal his terror.
"I wouldn't. What if some of the colonel's troopers should find you
skulking here when you ought to be in the front rank? Or suppose the
battle should be fought on your plantation. Wouldn't you——"
"Baton Rouge is not on our plantation."
"I know, but a battle sometimes ends a good many miles from where it
begins, and the one that's coming is as likely to be fought here as
anywhere else. And if that should happen, wouldn't you rather have a
musket in your hands than go skulking through the bushes trying to keep
out of danger? I would a hundred times over. But really we must be
going. Good-night."
Rodney and his companion bowed themselves to the door and went out, and
Captain Tom and his mother sat in their chairs looking at each other
and listening to the clatter of the receding hoofs. When it died away
altogether Tom jumped to his feet in great excitement.
"We never once thought to ask them where they got that order, or why
it was sent by their hands instead of by the hands of one of that
colonel's own men," he fairly sputtered. "Mother, it's an infamous
trick, and there isn't going to be any fight. I'll remember Rodney Gray
for this and other things he has done to me—you see if I don't!"
"I hope you are duly ashamed of yourself for frightening that poor
woman so terribly," said Dick, as he and Rodney galloped out of the
yard and turned their horses toward the village.
"Why didn't she stay out of the room?" retorted Rodney. "We sent in
word that we desired to see Captain Tom privately, but she didn't take
the hint. So Tom thought he couldn't spend the night in riding about
the country. Well, we've got to, if we do the work we set out to do."
The first part of that work was to call upon Captain Roach, who had
excited Tom Randolph's ire by accepting Rodney's invitation to dinner,
and the next to warn some of the Union men whom he had conscripted.
The former was overwhelmed with surprise and didn't know what to do,
not being a veteran; but he wasn't a coward, if he did turn white. He
talked the matter over very calmly with his visitors, and following
their advice said he would drop the conscript business until the battle
had been decided one way or the other. And then he looked helplessly at
Rodney as if to ask what he should do next.
"You ought to do duty or shed that uniform," said the boy bluntly.
"You can't assemble your conscripts now, and if you could, where would
you find men to guard them to Camp Pinckney? You can only show your
good-will by reporting at the camp; and if I were in your place, I
think I should start the first thing in the morning. If you delay, you
will be liable to be cut off by Federal scouting parties. Have you seen
any Yanks about here to-day?"
Captain Roach replied that he hadn't seen or heard of any, and Rodney
went on to tell about the skirmish that had taken place near his
plantation, and how he and Dick had taken to the woods and escaped
being caught in the house. The Federals couldn't prove anything
against them, he said, but they could shut them up in Baton Rouge until
Breckenridge captured it or was driven back where he came from, and
that was something he didn't want them to do. Then he and Dick shook
hands with the enrolling officer, wished him good luck, and went out
into the night to finish their work. It kept them busy until daylight,
and then they went to Mr. Gray's to breakfast, happy in the knowledge
that they had done as they would be done by, and not one who wished
them harm was the wiser for it.
Tom Randolph was hardly out of bed the next morning before he was
made aware that there was some truth in Rodney Gray's story. A squad
of Federal cavalry went by the house on a keen jump, and about an
hour behind them a larger squad of Confederates went past at the same
rapid gait. Tom wasn't soldier enough to know that these were nothing
but scouts, and in his ignorance supposed that the battle had been
fought while he was asleep, and that the Confederates had driven
their antagonists; but it was not long before he discovered that the
worst was yet to come. All that day soldiers in gray uniforms were
in sight somewhere. They streamed by the house or came into the yard
and gathered about the well, and an officer with high top-boots and a
fierce mustache stood on the front gallery and issued orders in a voice
that sounded as loud as a fog-horn. They trampled down the flower beds,
cleared the cellar of everything eatable, and helped themselves to what
there was in the kitchen, and through it all, the captain of the Home
Guards never showed himself. Some of the time he was in the garret,
oftener he was under the bed in his mother's room, and then again his
frightened eyes were peeping through the carefully closed blinds. He
had never dreamed that there were so many men in an army, and yet he
saw but one column of a very small army, for Breckenridge made his
assault with less than 4000 men. To his immense relief no one asked for
him, and perhaps the reason was because Colonel Clark, who wrote that
order, was with the other column, five or six miles away.
The attack on Baton Rouge was made the next morning at daylight, and
although Rodney and Dick heard little of it and saw less, they had some
hospital work on their hands. The heat was intense, and everywhere
along the line of march men fell exhausted out of the ranks, and were
taken in and cared for by the planters. Rodney's house and door-yard
were filled with soldiers who could not go any farther toward the
enemy, although they recovered their strength and power of action very
suddenly when it became known that there was a possibility of the
enemy's cavalry coming toward them. The attack, which was so successful
at first that the Federal camps were captured or burned, failed utterly
in the end, and at noon the fight was over and the Confederates were
in full retreat. The _Arkansas_ did not come down to help with her big
guns, and if she had she might have met a warmer reception than she
bargained for, for there were five gunboats in the river, including
the iron-clad _Essex_. These took an earnest part in the fight while
waiting for the _Arkansas_, their fire being directed by an army
signal officer who stood on the roof of the capitol building. The
Confederates were so badly whipped that they left seventy men on the
field for the Union forces to bury.
The closing scene of the fight was enacted the next morning. The
_Essex_ went up the river six miles, found the terrible _Arkansas_,
with her ten heavy guns and 180 picked men, hard and fast aground, and
pounded her so severely that in fifteen minutes she was set on fire and
abandoned. She blew up when the fire reached her magazine, but she left
others behind which made themselves known and feared before the war was
over.