BEFORE MONTEREY.
IT is not necessary to describe the particular proceedings of the
Dashahed Zouaves during every day of their camp life. They chattered,
played, drilled, quarrelled a little once in a while, and made it up
again, eat and slept considerably, and grew sunburnt to an astonishing
degree.
It was Thursday morning, the fourth of their delightful days in camp.
Jerry had been teaching them how to handle a musket and charge
bayonets, until they were quite excited, and rather put out that there
was no enemy to practise on but the grasshoppers. At length, when they
had tried everything that was to be done, Harry exclaimed, "I wish,
Jerry, you would tell us a story about the wars! Something real
splendid, now; perfectly crammed with Indians and scalps and awful
battles and elegant Mexican palaces full of diamonds and gold saucepans
and lovely Spanish girls carried off by the hair of their heads!"
This flourishing rigmarole, which Harry delivered regardless of stops,
made the boys shout with laughter.
"You'd better tell the story yourself, since you know so much about
it!" said Tom.
"I allow you've never been in Mexico, sir," said Jerry, grinning. "I
doubt but thar's palisses somewhar in Mexico, but I and my mates hev
been thar, an' _we_ never seed none o' 'em. No, Master Harry, I can't
tell ye sich stories as that, but I do mind a thing what happened on the
field afore Monterey."
The boys, delightedly exclaiming, "A story! a story! hurrah!" drew their
camp stools around him; and Jerry, after slowly rubbing his hand round
and round over his bristling chin, while he considered what to say
first, began his story as follows:
JERRY'S STORY.
"It wor a Sunday night, young genl'men, the 21st
of September, and powerful hot. We had been
fightin' like mad, wi' not a moment's rest, all
day, an' now at last wor under the canwas, they of
us as wor left alive, a tryin' to sleep. The
skeeters buzzed aroun' wonderful thick, and the
groun' aneath our feet wor like red-hot tin
plates, wi' the sun burnin' an blisterin' down. At
last my mate Bill says, says he, 'Jerry, my mate,
hang me ef I can stan' this any longer. Let you
an' me get up an' see ef it be cooler
out-o'-doors.'
"I wor tired enough wi' the day's fight, an'
worrited, too, wi' a wound in my shoulder; but
the tent wor no better nor the open field, an' we
got up an' went out. Thar wor no moon, but the sky
was wonderful full o' stars, so we could see how
we wor stannin' wi' our feet among the bodies o'
the poor fellows as had fired their last shot that
day. It wor a sight, young genl'men, what would
make sich as you sick an' faint to look on; but
sogers must larn not to min' it; an' we stood
thar, not thinkin' how awful it wor, and yet still
an' quiet, too.
"'Ah, Jerry,' says Bill--he wor a young lad, an'
brought up by a pious mother, I allow--'I dunnot
like this fightin' on the Sabba' day. The Lord
will not bless our arms, I'm afeard, if we go agin
His will so.'
"I laughed--more shame to me--an' said, 'I'm a
sight older nor you, mate, an' I've seed a sight
o' wictories got on a Sunday. The better the day,
the better the deed, I reckon.'
"'Well, I don't know,' he says; 'mebbe things is
allers mixed in time o' war, an' right an' wrong
change sides a' purpose to suit them as wants
battle an' tumult to be ragin'; but it don't go
wi' my grain, noways.'
"I hadn't experienced a change o' heart then, as I
did arterward, bless the Lord! an' I hardly
unnerstood what he said. While we wor a stannin'
there, all to onct too dark figgers kim a creepin'
over the field to'ard the Major's tent. 'Look
thar, Jerry,' whispered Bill, kind o' startin'
like, 'thar's some of them rascally Mexicans.' I
looked at 'em wi'out sayin' a wured, an' then I
went back to the tent fur my six-shooter--Bill
arter me;--fur ef it ain't the dooty o' every
Christian to extarminate them warmints o'
Mexicans, I'll be drummed out of the army
to-morrer.
"Wall, young genl'men--we tuck our pistols, and
slow and quiet we moved to whar we seed the two
Greasers, as they call 'em. On they kim, creepin'
to'ard my Major's tent, an' at las' one o' 'em
raised the canwas a bit. Bill levelled his
rewolver in a wink, an' fired. You shud ha' seed
how they tuck to their heels! yelling all the way,
till wun o' em' dropped. The other didn't stop,
but just pulled ahead. I fired arter him wi'out
touching him; but the noise woke the Major, an'
when he hearn wot the matter wor, he ordered the
alarm to be sounded an' the men turned out. 'It's
a 'buscade to catch us,' he says, 'an' I'm fur
being fust on the field.'
"Bill an' I buckled on our cartridge boxes, caught
up our muskets, an' were soon in the ranks. On we
marched, stiddy an' swift, to the enemy's
fortifications; an' wen we were six hundred yards
distant, kim the command, 'Double quick.' The sky
hed clouded up all of a suddent, an' we couldn't
see well where we wor, but thar was suthin' afore
us like a low, black wall. As we kim nearer, it
moved kind o' cautious like, an' when we wor
within musket range, wi' a roar like ten thousand
divils, they charged forred! Thar wor the flash
and crack o' powder, and the ring! ping! o' the
bullets, as we power'd our shot on them an' they
on us; but not another soun'; cr-r-r-ack went the
muskets on every side agin, an' the rascals wor
driven back a minnit. 'Charge bayonets!' shouted
the Major, wen he seed that. Thar wos a pause; a
rush forred; we wor met by the innimy half way;
an' then I hearn the awfullest o' created
soun's--a man's scream. I looked roun', an' there
wos Bill, lying on his face, struck through an'
through. Thar wos no time to see to him then, fur
the men wor fur ahead o' me, an' I hed to run an'
jine the rest.
"We hed a sharp, quick skirmish o' it--for ef thar
is a cowardly critter on the created airth it's a
Greaser--an' in less nor half an' hour wor beatin'
back to quarters. When all wor quiet agin, I left
my tent, an' away to look fur Bill. I sarched an'
sarched till my heart were almost broke, an at
last I cried out, 'Oh Bill, my mate, whar be you?'
an' I hearn a fibble v'ice say, 'Here I be,
Jerry!'
"I swon! I wor gladder nor anything wen I hearn
that. I hugged him to my heart, I wor moved so
powerful, an' then I tuck him on my back, an' off
to camp; werry slow an' patient, fur he were sore
wownded, an' the life in him wery low.
"Wall, young genl'men, I'll not weary you wi' the
long hours as dragged by afore mornin'. I med him
as snug as I could, and at daybreak we hed him
took to the sugeon's tent.
"I wor on guard all that mornin' an' could not get
to my lad; but at last the relief kim roun', an'
the man as was to take my place says, says he,
'Jerry, my mate, ef I was you I'd go right to the
hosp'tl an' stay by poor Bill' (fur they all knew
as I sot gret store by him); 'He is werry wild in
his head, I hearn, an' the sugeon says as how he
can't last long.'
"Ye may b'lieve how my hairt jumped wen I hearn
that. I laid down my gun, an' ran fur the wooden
shed, which were all the place they hed fur them
as was wownded. An' thar wor Bill--my mate
Bill--laying on a blanket spred on the floore, wi'
his clothes all on (fur it's a hard bed, an' his
own bloody uniform, that a sojer must die in), wi'
the corpse o' another poor fellow as had died all
alone in the night a'most touching him, an'
slopped wi' blood. I moved it fur away all in a
trimble o' sorrer, an' kivered it decent like, so
as Bill mightn't see it an' get downhearted fur
hisself. Then I went an' sot down aside my mate.
He didn't know me, no more nor if I wor a
stranger; but kept throwin' his arms about, an'
moanin' out continual, 'Oh mother! mother! Why
don't you come to your boy?'
"I bust right out crying, I do own, wen I hearn
that, an' takin' his han' in mine, I tried to
quiet him down a bit; telling him it wor bad fur
his wownd to be so res'less (fur every time he
tossed, thar kim a little leap o' blood from his
breast); an' at last, about foore o'clock in the
day, he opened his eyes quite sensible like, an'
says to me, he says, 'Dear matey, is that you?
Thank you fur coming to see me afore I die.'
"'No, Bill, don't talk so,' I says, a strivin' to
be cheerful like, tho' I seed death in his face,
'You'll be well afore long.'
"'Aye, well in heaven,' he says; and then, arter a
minnit, 'Jerry,' he says, 'thar's a little bounty
money as belongs to me in my knapsack, an' my
month's wages. I want you, wen I am gone, to take
it to my mother, an' tell her--'(he wor gaspin'
fearful)--'as I died--fightin' fur my country--an'
the flag. God bless you, Jerry--you hev been a
good frien' to me, an' I knows as you'll do
this--an' bid the boys good-by--fur me.'
"I promised, wi' the tears streamin' down my
cheeks; an' then we wor quiet a bit, fur it hurt
Bill's breast to talk, an' I could not say a wured
fur the choke in my throat. Arter a while he says,
'Jerry, won't you sing me the hymn as I taught you
aboard the transport? about the Lord our Captin?'
"I could hardly find v'ice to begin, but it wor
Bill's dying wish, an' I made shift to sing as
well as I could--
"'We air marchin' on together
To our etarnal rest;
Niver askin' why we're ordered--
For the Lord He knoweth best.
Christ is our Captain!
'Forred!' is His word;
Ranks all steady, muskets ready,
In the army o' the Lord!
"'Satan's hosts are all aroun' us,
An' strive to enter in;
But our outworks they are stronger
Nor the dark brigades o' sin!
Christ is our Fortress!
Righteousness our sword;
Truth the standard--in the vanguard--
O' the army o' the Lord!
"'Comrads, we air ever fightin'
A battle fur the right;
Ever on the on'ard movement
Fur our home o' peace an' light.
Christ is our Leader!
Heaven our reward,
Comin' nearer, shinin' clearer--
In the army o' the Lord!'
"Arter I hed sung the hymn--an' it wor all I could
do to get through--Bill seemed to be a sight
easier. He lay still, smilin' like a child on the
mother's breast. Pretty soon arter, the Major kim
in; an' wen he seed Bill lookin' so peaceful, he
says, says he, 'Why, cheer up, my lad! the sugeon
sayd as how you wor in a bad way; but you look
finely now;'--fur he didn't know it wor the death
look coming over him. 'You'll be about soon,'
says the Major, 'an' fightin' fur the flag as
brave as ever,'
"Bill didn't say nothing--he seemed to be getting
wild agin;--an' looked stupid like at our Major
till he hearn the wureds about the flag. Then he
caught his breath suddint like, an', afore we
could stop him, he had sprang to his feet--shakin'
to an' fro like a reed--but as straight as he ever
wor on parade; an', his v'ice all hoarse an' full
o' death, an' his arm in the air, he shouted,
'Aye! God--bless--the--flag! we'll fight fur it
till--' an' then we hearn a sort o' snap, an' he
fell forred--dead!
"We buried him that night, I an' my mates. I cut
off a lock o' his hair fur his poor mother, afore
we put the airth over him; an' giv it to her, wi'
poor Bill's money, faithful an' true, wen we kim
home. I've lived to be an old man since then, an'
see the Major go afore me, as I hoped to sarve
till my dyin' day; but Lord willing I shel go
next, to win the Salwation as I've fitten for, by
Bill's side, a sojer in Christ's army, in the
Etarnal Jerusalem!"
The boys took a long breath when Jerry had finished his story, and more
than one bright eye was filled with tears. The rough words, and plain,
unpolished manner of the old soldier, only heightened the impression
made by his story; and as he rose to go away, evidently much moved by
the painful recollections it excited, there was a hearty, "Thank you,
sergeant, for your story--it was real good!" Jerry only touched his cap
to the young soldiers, and marched off hastily, while the boys looked
after him in respectful silence. But young spirits soon recover from
gloomy influences, and in a few moments they were all chattering merrily
again.
"What a pity we must go home Monday!" cried Louie; "I wish we could camp
out forever! Oh, Freddy, do write a letter to General McClellan, and ask
him to let us join the army right away! Tell him we'll buy some new
india-rubber back-bones and stretch ourselves out big directly, if he'll
only send right on for us!"
"Perhaps he would, if he knew how jolly we can drill already!" said
Peter, laughing. "I tell you what, boys, the very thing! let's have a
review before we go home. I'll ask all the boys and girls I know to come
and look on, and we might have quite a grand entertainment. Won't that
be splendid? We can march about all over, and fire off the cannons and
everything! I'm sure father will let us."
"Yes, but how's General McClellan to hear anything about it?" inquired
practical Louie.
"Why--I don't know," said Peter, rather taken aback by this view of the
subject. "Well, somehow--never mind, it will be grand fun, and I mean
to ask my father right away."
"Take me with you?" called a dozen fellows directly. Finally it was
concluded that it might make more impression on Mr. Schermerhorn's mind,
if the application came from the regiment in a body; so, running for
their swords and guns, officers and men found their places in the
battalion, and the grand procession started on its way--chattering all
the time, in utter defiance of that "article of war" which forbids
"talking in the ranks." Just as they were passing the lake, they heard
carriage wheels crunching on the gravel, and drew up in a long line on
the other side of the road to let the vehicle pass them; much to the
astonishment of two pretty young ladies and a sweet little girl, about
Freddy's age, who were leaning comfortably back in the handsome
barouche.
"Why, Peter!" exclaimed one of the ladies, "what in the world is all
this?"
"This!" cried Peter, running up to the carriage, "why, these are the
Dashahed Zouaves, Miss Carlton. We have been in camp ever since Monday.
Good morning, Miss Jessie," to the little girl on the front seat, who
was looking on with deep interest.
"Oh, to be sure, I remember," said Miss Carlton, laughing; "come,
introduce the Zouaves, Peter; we are wild to know them!"
The boys clustered eagerly about the carriage and a lively chat took
place. The Zouaves, some blushing and bashful, others frank and
confident, and all desperately in love already with pretty little
Jessie, related in high glee their adventures--except the celebrated
court martial--and enlarged glowingly upon the all-important subject of
the grand review.
Colonel Freddy, of course, played a prominent part in all this, and with
his handsome face, bright eyes, and frank, gentlemanly ways, needed only
those poor lost curls to be a perfect picture of a soldier. He chattered
away with Miss Lucy, the second sister, and obtained her special promise
that she would plead their cause with Mr. Schermerhorn in case the
united petitions of the corps should fail. The young ladies did not know
of Mrs. Schermerhorn's departure, but Freddy and Peter together coaxed
them to come up to the house "anyhow." The carriage was accordingly
taken into the procession, and followed it meekly to the house; the
Zouaves insisting on being escort, much to the terror of the young
ladies; who were in constant apprehension that the rear rank and the
horses might come to kicks--not to say blows--and the embarrassment of
the coachman; who, as they were constantly stopping unexpectedly to turn
round and talk, didn't know "where to have them," as the saying is.
However, they reached their destination in safety before long, and
found Mr. Schermerhorn seated on the piazza. He hastened forward to meet
them, with the cordial greeting of an old friend.
"Well, old bachelor," said Miss Carlton, gayly, as the young ladies
ascended the steps, "you see we have come to visit you in state, with
the military escort befitting patriotic young ladies who have four
brothers on the Potomac. What has become of Madame, please?"
"Gone to Niagara and left me a 'lone lorn creetur;'" said Mr.
Schermerhorn, laughing. "Basely deserted me when my farming couldn't be
left. But how am I to account for the presence of the military,
mademoiselle?"
"Really, I beg their pardons," exclaimed Miss Carlton. "They have come
on a special deputation to you, Mr. Schermerhorn, so pray don't let us
interrupt business."
Thus apostrophised, the boys scampered eagerly up the steps; and Freddy,
a little bashful, but looking as bright as a button, delivered the
following brief oration: "Mr. Schermerhorn: I want--that is, the boys
want--I mean we all want--to have a grand review on Saturday, and ask
our friends to look on. Will you let us do it, please?"
"Certainly, with the greatest pleasure!" replied Mr. Schermerhorn,
smiling; "but what will become of you good people when I tell you that
I have just received a letter from Mrs. Schermerhorn, asking me to join
her this week instead of next, and bring Peter with me."
"Oh! father, please let me stay!" interrupted Peter; "can't you tell ma
I've joined the army for the war? We all want to stay like everything!"
"And forage for yourselves?" said his father, laughing. "No, the army
must give you up, and lose a valuable member, Master Peter; but just
have the goodness to listen a moment. The review shall take place, but
as the camp will have to break up on Saturday instead of Monday, as I
had intended, the performances must come off to-morrow. Does that suit
your ideas?"
The boys gave a delighted consent to this arrangement, and now the only
thing which dampened their enjoyment was the prospect of such a speedy
end being put to their camp life. "Confound it! what was the fun for a
fellow to be poked into a stupid watering place, where he must bother to
keep his hair parted down the middle, and a clean collar stiff enough to
choke him on from morning till night?" as Tom indignantly remarked to
George and Will the same evening. "The fact is, this sort of thing is
_the_ thing for a _man_ after all!" an opinion in which the other _men_
fully concurred.
But let us return to the piazza, where we have left the party. After a
few moments more spent in chatting with Mr. Schermerhorn, it was decided
to accept Colonel Freddy's polite invitation, which he gave with such a
bright little bow, to inspect the camp. You may be sure it was in
apple-pie order, for Jerry, who had taken the Zouaves under his special
charge, insisted on their keeping it in such a state of neatness as only
a soldier ever achieved. The party made an extremely picturesque
group--the gay uniforms of the Zouaves, and light summer dresses of the
ladies, charmingly relieved against the background of trees; while Mr.
Schermerhorn's stately six feet, and somewhat portly proportions, quite
reminded one of General Scott; especially among such a small army; in
which George alone quite came up to the regulation "63 inches."
Little Jessie ran hither and thither, surrounded by a crowd of adorers,
who would have given their brightest buttons, every "man" of them, to be
the most entertaining fellow of the corps. They showed her the battery
and the stacks of shining guns--made to stand up by Jerry in a wonderful
fashion that the boys never could hope to attain--the inside of all the
tents, and the smoke guard house (Tom couldn't help a blush as he looked
in); and finally, as a parting compliment (which, let me tell you, is
the greatest, in a boy's estimation, that can possibly be paid), Freddy
made her a present of his very largest and most gorgeous "glass agates;"
one of which was all the colors of the rainbow, and the other
patriotically adorned with the Stars and Stripes in enamel. Peter
climbed to the top of the tallest cherry tree, and brought her down a
bough at least a yard and a half long, crammed with "ox hearts;" Harry
eagerly offered to make any number of "stunning baskets" out of the
stones, and in short there never was such a belle seen before.
"Oh, a'int she jolly!" was the ruling opinion among the Zouaves. A
private remark was also circulated to the effect that "Miss Jessie was
stunningly pretty."
The young ladies at last said good-by to the camp; promising faithfully
to send all the visitors they could to the grand review, and drove off
highly entertained with their visit. Mr. Schermerhorn decided to take
the afternoon boat for the city and return early Friday morning, and the
boys, left to themselves, began to think of dinner, as it was two
o'clock. A brisk discussion was kept up all dinner time you may be sure,
concerning the event to come off on the morrow.
"I should like to know, for my part, what we do in a review," said
Jimmy, balancing his fork artistically on the end of his finger, and
looking solemnly round the table.
"Why, show off everything we know!" said Charley Spicer. "March about,
and form into ranks and columns, and all that first, then do charming
"parade rest," "'der humps!" and the rest of it; and finish off by
firing off our guns, and showing how we can't hit anything by any
possibility!"
"But these guns won't fire off!" objected Jimmy.
"Well, the cannon then!"
"But I'm sure father won't let us have any powder," said Peter
disconsolately. "You can't think how I burnt the end of my nose last
Fourth with powder! It was so sore I couldn't blow it for a week!"
The boys all burst out laughing at this dreadful disaster, and George
said, "You weren't lighting it with the end of your nose, were you?"
"No; but I was stooping over, charging one of my cannon, and I dropped
the 'punk' right in the muzzle somehow, and, would you believe it, the
nasty thing went off and burnt my nose! and father said I shouldn't play
with powder any more, because I might have put out my eyes."
"Well, we must take it out in marching, then," said Freddy, with a
tremendous sigh.
"No, hold on; I'll tell you what we can do!" cried Tom, eagerly. "I have
some 'double headers' left from the Fourth; we might fire them out of
the cannon; they make noise enough, I'm sure. I'll write to my mother
this afternoon and get them."
The boys couldn't help being struck with the generosity of this offer,
coming from Tom after their late rather unkind treatment of him; and the
older ones especially were very particular to thank him for his present.
As soon as dinner was over, he started for the house to ask Mr.
Schermerhorn to carry his message. As he hurried along the road, his
bright black eyes sparkling with the happiness of doing a good action,
he heard trotting steps behind him, felt an arm stealing round his neck,
schoolboy fashion, and there was Freddy.
"I ran after you all the way," he pantingly said. "I want to tell you,
dear Tom, how much we are obliged to you for giving us your crackers,
and how sorry we are that we acted so rudely to you the other day.
Please forgive us; we all like you so much, and we would feel as mean as
anything to take your present without begging pardon. George, Peter, and
I feel truly ashamed of ourselves every time we think of that abominable
court martial."
"There, old fellow, don't say a word more about it!" was the hearty
response; and Tom threw his arm affectionately about his companion. "It
was my fault, Freddy, and all because I was mad at poor old Jerry; how
silly! I was sorry for what I said right afterward."
"Then we are friends again?" cried Freddy, joyfully.
"Yes; I'll like you as long as I live! and ever so much longer." And so
we will leave the two on their walk to the house, and close this
abominably long chapter.