ROMANCE IN JOHN SMITH’S “REAL LIFE.”
THAT Sunday morning I determined to visit the battle-ground again, and
try to find that part of the field on which I had had the honor to be
shot; then walk to Hagerstown, a distance of twelve miles. Having
discovered, the previous day, that I was something of a walker, I now
thought nothing of going that distance on foot. My excellent friends
urged me to stay till Monday morning, but I declined.
I have now to record a little incident such as we sometimes read of but
seldom gain cognizance of through our own auricular and optic organs. It
may well be termed a “Romance in real life.”
Once, while in the army, I had picked up a small white pebble on the
battle-ground of Bull Run, intending to keep it as a relic of that famed
field. I had put it in a port-monnaie, and carried it with me through
all my battles. While lying in the barn alluded to, I had lost my
port-monnaie, which only contained, besides the pebble, a small bit of
white paper on which I had made some notes of marches and their dates;
and since then I had scarcely given it a thought. In fact, it had gone
quite out of my mind.
Well, on Sunday morning, March twenty-sixth, 1865, before I left Mr.
Pry’s house, Mrs. Pry showed me a small fancy basket of curiosities,
such as little shells, bullets, and the like, and as she handed it to me
to examine, she said:
“You will find among those shells a little white pebble, to which there
is probably some story attached.”
“Ah?” I replied, moving the shells about. “How so?”
“Why, I think,” said she, “that it must have been the property of some
soldier who, no doubt, carried it as a relic. Our boys were fishing one
day, not long ago, and one of them drew up on his hook a
port-monnaie—and what a fish he thought he had!—when——”
“A port-monnaie!” I exclaimed, as the recollection of my pebble suddenly
flashed upon my mind for the first time since my leaving the army.
“Yes,” she went on; “and in it was the pebble——”
“And this is it!” I interrupted, as I found it at that moment among the
shells and instantly recognized it by its peculiar shape and a little
dark streak running through it.
“Yes, that is it.”
“And do you guess whose it is?”
“Is it yours?”
“Yes, ma’am. I recollect it distinctly now. I picked it up on the
battle-field of Bull Run, when visiting the ground one day, before I had
ever been in a fight, and carried it with me through all my campaigns,
till wounded; and I lost it from my blouse pocket while lying in the
barn. Was there not a piece of paper in the port-monnaie?”
“Yes, so the boys said.”
“With some marches and their dates noted down——”
“Exactly.”
“Well, is it not rather romantic!”
“It is, indeed. The pebble is yours now. Take it.”
“Thank you. I am indeed glad to see it again; but if you prefer to keep
it, as you have established an undoubted right to it as property, by
rescuing it from the depths of the waters, I will cheerfully leave it
with you.”
“No, no,” said the good lady. “It is a pleasure to me to be able to
restore it to you, after the lapse of more than two years. I am so glad
I happened to mention it. If I had read of such an incident I could
scarcely have believed it.”
“Nor any one. I thank you a thousand times! To think that, after thirty
months, I should recover a little thing like that!—and that after it had
been associating with the fish at the bottom of Antietam Creek! To think
that it should so happen that I should stop at this house all night and
that you should happen to mention it to me just before departing! It is
indeed romantic!”
“It is, truly. Be assured that I am as happy to restore it to you as you
are to recover it.”
I took the pebble, and have it yet in my possession. Any one calling on
John Smith at his residence, (wherever that is,) will have an
opportunity of seeing it, and of thus satisfying himself that this story
is true.
Accompanied by Mr. Pry’s two sons, I departed for the battle-ground, in
the midst of the most earnest solicitations to remain till Monday
morning, and made another tour of the battle-field. At last, we
succeeded in finding the identical spot of ground on which I had stood
when shot, which I recognized by unmistakable landmarks. Especially did
I remember a little ledge of rocks in the midst of a small grove of
trees, over which we had climbed in advancing, and where two men had
fallen back, shot dead—one at my right hand and the other at my left. I
also found and recognized the identical tree against which I had leaned
my rifle on finding myself to be too badly wounded to continue firing.
There were some graves in the quiet little grove, and on a small
head-board I found the name of one of my old regiment. Among some of the
sunken graves, were also visible whitened bones that had barely been
covered with earth, and were now, after the rains and storms of more
than two years, entirely unearthed and exposed to view.
Between ten and eleven o’clock, I started for Hagerstown. The boys
wanted me either to go back to the house or wait there till they should
get a team ready to convey me to my destination, but I declined,
assuring them that I could walk easily, and would really prefer to do
so, as the weather was fine.
I made my way to the Hagerstown pike, and had not traveled far, when I
fell in with a farmer who was returning from a Sunday-school he had been
attending at the little church, and he urged me to go home with him and
take dinner. Not wishing to stop so soon, I declined, with thanks. I met
with several similar invitations on the pike. I must say, that the
hospitality and kind-heartedness of the people of Maryland cannot be too
highly spoken of. They had no fair opportunity to show these good
qualities while whole armies were passing through their land, although
even then they did all they reasonably could do for us; but let a person
travel through the country districts, especially if he be crippled or
laboring under any physical disadvantage, and he will meet with kind
smiles of welcome from all, regardless of political sentiments.
Having traveled four or five miles, I was passing a house where dinner
was just ready, when a good-natured old gentleman came out to the gate
and said:
“How do you do, sir? Stop a moment. Which way are you traveling?”
“I am going to Hagerstown,” I replied, pausing.
“Well, you have not had your dinner yet,” he said with a tone and manner
that distinctly added, “So, of course, you simply walk in at this gate
and up into the house and get your dinner, to be sure.”
“No,” I could not help admitting; “but——”
“But What?——in the name of sense.”
“I am not decidedly hungry, and would like to walk a mile or two further
before I stop.”
“O, nonsense! Come in!” And he opened the gate with such an air that I
could not have remained in the road without insulting him. “Did you say
you intended to walk to Hagerstown?”
“Yes, sir; such is my intention.”
“Well, you mustn’t think of it. Come in, take dinner and rest awhile,
and I will hitch up to my spring wagon and take you to Hagerstown in
less time than it would take you to walk a mile! Come.”
I could no longer resist, and allowed myself to be smiled and welcomed
into the house. The good people therein—an elderly lady and her
daughter—were somewhat astonished when I told them of my walk of the
previous day.
“Is it possible you couldn’t get a wagon?” said the old gentleman.
“I could not.”
“If I had known it,” said he, while his noble heart shone out all over
his face, “I would have hitched up and come down for you! Surely, there
ought to have been some one there—However, people get pretty
hard-hearted where soldiers are quartered so long.”
“Very natural,” I observed.
After a good dinner, which I had the appetite to enjoy, this hospitable
gentleman, despite my protestations, hitched up his horse and wagon, and
took me to Hagerstown. I offered to pay him, but he regarded that idea
as one of the best jokes he had heard lately. No, indeed; I mustn’t give
a thought to such a thing!
“The idea of taking pay from you!” he said; and laughed till we both
forgot about it.
I stayed at Hagerstown that night and next morning took an early train
for Harrisburg, arriving there about noon. I only spent a couple of
hours in Harrisburg, then took a train for Philadelphia, where I arrived
that evening, and found my trunk awaiting me.