DEFENDING HIS FLAG
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[Illustration: THEN HE SAW LOUIS CATCH HOLD OF THE BAYONET AND THRUST
IT ASIDE.--_Page 133._]
DEFENDING HIS FLAG
OR
A BOY IN BLUE AND A BOY IN GRAY
BY
EDWARD STRATEMEYER
Author of “Old Glory Series,” “Colonial Series,” “American Boys’ Life of
William McKinley,” “Dave Porter at Oak Hall,” etc.
_ILLUSTRATED BY GRISWOLD TYNG_
[Illustration]
BOSTON
LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
Published, August, 1907
COPYRIGHT, 1906 AND 1907, BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER, AS A
SERIAL, UNDER THE TITLE OF “IN DEFENCE OF HIS FLAG”
COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.
_All rights reserved_
DEFENDING HIS FLAG
Norwood Press
Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
PREFACE
“Defending His Flag” relates the adventures of two boys, or rather
young men, during the first campaign of our great Civil War. At the
call to arms, one enlists in the infantry of the North while the other
throws in his fortunes with the cavalry of the South. Personally the
two are warm friends, yet they become bitter foes on the battlefield.
One marches to Washington, to defend the Capitol, and the other rides
to Manassas, where the Confederates were gathering. Both fight at the
bloody battle of Bull Run, and then take part in that stirring Campaign
of the Peninsula and before Richmond.
In writing this work I have had but one object in view, and that was
to give a faithful picture of a part of the Civil War as seen from
both sides of that never-to-be-forgotten conflict. During the war,
and for years afterward, grown folk and young people were treated to
innumerable books on the conflict, all written either from the Northern
or the Southern point of view, thoroughly biased, and calculated to do
more harm than good. In some of these bits of ill-advised literature
the enemy never gained a victory, the other side simply “falling back
to a better point from which to make another attack.”
I think the time has come when the truth, and the whole truth at
that, can be told, and when it will do positive good. Since the
Spanish-American War, when some of the gallant Southern officers and
men made such records for themselves under Old Glory, the old lines
have been practically wiped out. The reconstructed South is as firm a
part of our Nation as was the old South during the first half of the
last century, and it has a perfect right to honor the memories of those
who, while wearing the gray and marching under the stars and bars,
fought so gallantly for what they considered was right and true.
This story ran as a serial under the title, “In Defence of His Flag,”
in that popular monthly, _The American Boy_. As a serial it created a
demand for its publication in book form, hence the present volume. The
story has been somewhat revised but not materially altered. The purely
historical portions are based on the United States records and the
records of the Confederacy.
Once again I thank the thousands and thousands of boys, not only in
this country but also in other lands, who take so much interest in what
I have written for them. May the present volume please you in every way
and do you good.
EDWARD STRATEMEYER.
_May 15, 1907._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. SIGNS OF WAR 1
II. IN A HOSTILE NEIGHBORHOOD 16
III. A DISCOVERY AND A SURPRISE 29
IV. THE PROGRESS OF THE UPRISING 42
V. OFF FOR WASHINGTON 57
VI. THE VOLUNTEERS AT THE CAPITOL 69
VII. ANDY OFF FOR MANASSAS 85
VIII. ANDY ON THE BREASTWORKS 97
IX. THE ADVANCE TO BULL RUN 110
X. A MEETING AND A RETREAT 125
XI. LOUIS’S PERILOUS ESCAPE 141
XII. ANDY IS TAKEN PRISONER 153
XIII. THE STORY OF A STOLEN HORSE 164
XIV. A CHASE AND A CAPTURE 176
XV. OFF FOR THE PENINSULA 189
XVI. THE LANDING--ON TO YORKTOWN 202
XVII. THE CAPTURE OF A SPY 215
XVIII. ACROSS THE POTOMAC ONCE MORE 228
XIX. ANDY GOES TO YORKTOWN 244
XX. THE EVACUATION OF YORKTOWN 261
XXI. AT THE BATTLE OF WILLIAMSBURG 277
XXII. IN CAMP AT WHITE HOUSE 289
XXIII. THE LIVING WALL AT FAIR OAKS 303
XXIV. WHEN RICHMOND WAS BESIEGED 319
XXV. ANDY AND THE UNION PICKETS 332
XXVI. AN ADVENTURE IN THE CONFEDERATE CAPITAL 345
XXVII. LOUIS AS A CONFEDERATE SOLDIER 357
XXVIII. LOUIS AND ANDY MEET AGAIN 373
XXIX. LOUIS VISITS GENERAL MCCLELLAN 383
XXX. ADVENTURES DURING THE SEVEN DAYS’ BATTLES 396
XXXI. BETWEEN THE LINES 407
XXXII. MALVERN HILL--CONCLUSION 418
ILLUSTRATIONS
THEN HE SAW LOUIS CATCH HOLD OF THE BAYONET AND
THRUST IT ASIDE (_Page 133_) _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
“STAND WHERE YOU ARE OR I WILL FIRE AT YOU!” SAID ANDY 94
LOUIS GAZED AT THE FACE, WONDERING IF HE HAD NOT
SEEN THE MAN BEFORE 222
THE MARCH TO THIS PRISON WAS ONE LOUIS NEVER FORGOT 324
AWAY ANDY TROTTED AT A BRISK PACE 340
“KEEP ON AS YOU HAVE STARTED, AND WHO KNOWS BUT THAT YOU
WILL ONE DAY BE WEARING A GENERAL’S SHOULDER-STRAPS?” 386
THEN ON SWEPT THE UNION LINE, YELLING WITH A VOICE
THAT IS NEVER HEARD ANYWHERE BUT ON THE BATTLEFIELD 400
“I’LL DIE WITH HIM BEFORE I’LL DO IT!” 426
DEFENDING HIS FLAG
CHAPTER I
SIGNS OF WAR
“Hello, Louis! Want to ride to the depot with me? I am going to bring
father home.”
“Certainly, Andy, I’ll go along. Do you expect your father on the
eleven o’clock train?”
“He wrote he would most likely be back on that, if he could get away
from Washington. He said everything was in such a state of excitement
it was impossible to talk business.”
“I suppose that is true,” returned Louis Rockford, as he hopped up
on the seat of the wagon, beside his chum. “My father wrote me that
it looked as if war must come after all. What a shame Congress can’t
settle this matter peaceably.”
“It could, if the Northerners would give us Southerners a chance,”
burst out Andy Arlington, as he gave the horse a flick with the whip
and sent the animal down the rocky road on a gallop. “The whole trouble
is the Northern States want to interfere with our rights, and we won’t
have it.”
“I thought the trouble was about the slaves.”
“Well, you can put it that way if you want to. The Southern States own
their slaves and have a right to do with them as they please.”
“I don’t think the negroes ought to be slaves, Andy.”
“I don’t know about that. We have got to have help to run the cotton
and tobacco plantations, and I reckon most of the colored people are
better off now than they would be if they were free. Just look at the
free negroes idling about. They are not worth their salt.”
“That may be true. Still, I don’t believe any human being ought to be a
slave--it’s barbarous!”
“There’s another thing,” added Andy, with a second flick of the whip.
“Years ago--and not so many, either--the Northern States had slaves,
and when they got rid of ’em, what did they do? Sold most of ’em to the
planters down South. Now those same people want to stop us from using
those slaves as we please.”
“I don’t believe they want to do that, exactly, Andy. They want to stop
the extension of slavery.”
“It amounts to the same thing.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I say it does. The Northern States want to dictate to us--and we won’t
have it--father says so, and Mr. Carroll, and Doctor Barnsby, and all
of them--and they ought to know.”
The words were spoken with great emphasis, and as he spoke the
Southern lad, with his ruddy-brown face and coal-black hair, glanced
half-defiantly at his companion. Louis Rockford’s face fell and then a
half-amused look crossed it.
“How hot-headed you do get, Andy! I trust you’re not going to fight
over this thing.”
“I’ll fight if I’m called on to fight. I believe in sticking up for my
rights. Wouldn’t you fight for your rights?”
“Certainly. But the politicians and the other big men on both sides
ought to do their best to prevent bloodshed.”
Andy Arlington drew a long breath, and urged forward his horse again.
“This thing has been a-brewing a long time--ever since old John Brown
seized the arsenal at Harper’s Ferry and tried to get the negroes to
arm themselves. Jefferson Davis and the others have tried their best to
straighten matters out and the Northerners won’t listen to them, and I
say if it comes to fighting, it will be the fault of the North, and not
of the South.”
“And I think you are greatly mistaken,” was the quiet but firm answer.
“However,” went on Louis Rockford, as he saw his chum’s face darken,
“whatever happens, Andy, let us remain friends.”
“Oh, I’m not making this a personal affair, Louis,” was the hasty
response. “I wouldn’t want to count you my enemy for a good deal.
But--but--hang it all, I wish you would look at this matter as I, and
father, and the rest do.”
“And I wish you would look at it as I and my father do,” laughed
Louis. “We’re as bad as the politicians, aren’t we? But I’ll tell
you one thing,” went on Louis, gravely. “I’ll never stand for having
our glorious United States broken up into separate republics. Our
forefathers fought too hard for our colonies to allow anything like
that to happen.”
“Well, it is a kind of a shame, in one way, Louis. But the Northern
States must learn to keep their hands out of our business--must learn
to leave us alone,” said Andy Arlington, with as much spirit as before;
and now the mountain-road became so rough that the rattle of the
farm wagon over the rough stones made further conversation just then
impossible.
As has been mentioned, Louis Rockford and Andy Arlington were chums.
Both were nearly seventeen years of age, tall, well-built, and
muscular. Andy was dark, while Louis was fair, and each had been
brought up upon a large farm or plantation.
The Rockford homestead lay in a valley near the southern boundary of
Pennsylvania, at a point where the State of Maryland divided it from
Virginia by a stretch of less than twenty miles. It was a well-kept,
although rather rocky, farm of a hundred acres, and to it was attached
a dairy of no mean proportions.
The Rockford family consisted of five persons--Mr. and Mrs. Rockford,
Louis, the only son, and Lucy and Martha, two daughters, one older and
the other younger than their brother.
Mr. Rockford had emigrated to Pennsylvania from New York State some
fifteen years before and he was, in consequence, a thorough Northern
man at heart, and had but little sympathy for those of the South who
intended to make slavery and State rights a basis for war. Louis
followed his father’s views closely, but both parent and son were of a
quiet, peaceful nature, and the idea of possible bloodshed filled them
with dismay.
The Arlingtons belonged to one of the oldest families in upper
Virginia. Clarence Arlington, the grandfather of Andy, had fought with
Washington during the Revolution, and Hugo Arlington, Andy’s father,
had followed General Scott to Mexico and lost a leg at the memorable
battle of Chapultepec. Father and son were full of the war spirit, and
it was plain to see that, as the father, being crippled, could not go,
Andy would take up a musket at the first call to arms.
The plantation of the Arlingtons was extensive, but as the ground was
not of the best, the tobacco, which was planted from year to year,
did only fairly well, and four years before the opening of this story
Mr. Arlington had become interested in dairy matters. His first herd
of cows had been purchased from Mr. Rockford, and this transfer of
property had led to the two families becoming warm friends. Later on,
both men had purchased a drove of cattle from the West, and in the work
of dividing up this herd Louis and Andy had assisted, and soon the two
boys were the warmest kind of chums, and when either took a vacation it
was only to spend the time at the house of the other.
Louis had now been stopping at the Arlington homestead for over a
week. It was just before Christmas time, and there was but little for
him to do at home. Early that morning he had gone off alone to see what
he could bag in the way of game in the woods along the highway. He had
wanted Andy to go with him, but some of the cows were sick, and Andy
had to remain behind to give advice concerning the cattle. Louis had
shot several rabbits, which now rested in his game pouch. He had been
standing near the highway, reloading his shotgun, when Andy came along
and invited him to take the ride to the depot at Lee Run, three miles
away.
That war was threatened, there could be no doubt. For over two years
the North and the South had wrangled over the slave question and over
the equally important question of State rights, and a settlement
was now further off than ever. More than this, the leaders in South
Carolina had actually called a convention for the purpose of deciding
whether or not that State should withdraw from the Union. The
convention was to have met at Columbia, but as that city was largely
infested with smallpox, the convention was removed to Charleston, to
deliberate there behind closed doors. And while this was going on the
Southern statesmen and politicians at Washington, and elsewhere, were
plotting to throw down the gauntlet of war whenever the favorable
opportunity arrived.
“Look, Andy, something is up!” cried Louis, as they drove up to the
main street of Lee Run. “See what an excited crowd there is at the
railroad station.”
“Hurrah! Hurrah for South Carolina!” was the sudden cry which reached
their ears. “She’s the State! Hurrah! and may gallant Virginia soon
follow her!”
“What is it, Mr. Deems?” cried Andy, as he drew rein in front of the
general store fronting the depot. “What’s the shouting about?”
“Didn’t you hear the news, Arlington? South Carolina has seceded from
the Union. They are having the greatest jubilication ever heard of
down there. ’T won’t be long afore we follow ’em, I reckon,” added the
store-keeper.
“Seceded from the Union!” repeated Louis. “Oh, that’s too bad!”
“Bad? Didn’t ye say ‘bad’?” interrupted a tall mountaineer, who stood
by, whittling a plug of tobacco with his jack-knife. “I reckon ye don’t
know much, boy. Why, it’s jess the best all-fired news I heard tell on
fer ten years.”
“That is where our opinions differ,” answered Louis, coldly. “In fact,
I don’t see how a State can leave the Union, unless all the other
States agree to it.”
“Don’t ye? Say, ain’t ye just a bit Northern-like now?” and the
mountaineer squinted one eye suggestively.
“I am from Pennsylvania, if that is what you mean.”
“Thought so. An’ ye don’t agree with us? Think our ideas about slavery
an’ sech ain’t o’ no account.”
“I think this present difficulty ought to be settled without breaking
up our Union and shedding blood.”
“Waal--” the mountaineer paused long enough to transfer a whittling of
hard tobacco to his mouth,--“all I’ve got to say is, we ain’t gettin’
on our knees to save this infernal Union, nohow, so thar!”
“You ought to be ashamed to speak of our Union as an infernal one,”
burst out Louis. “Our Union is the greatest and grandest on this globe,
and I for one will help uphold it to the last.”
“Oh, don’t talk so much, Louis!” put in Andy, with a swift rush of
blood to his face. “The crowd around here is excited and may not like
what you say.”
“But he called our Union an infernal one--”
“Don’t pay any attention to him. I know him. His name is Sam Jacks,
and he never did an honest stroke of work in his life. Here comes the
train. Let us go over and meet my father and see what he has to say.”
Leaving the horse tied to a near-by tree, the two lads made their way
through the crowd to the edge of the depot platform. Soon the train
rolled in and the first man to hop down, upon his cork leg, was Hugo
Arlington.
“What’s the latest from Washington, Arlington?” cried half a dozen
voices, and in a twinkling the veteran was surrounded, so that Andy and
Louis could scarcely reach him.
“South Carolina has seceded, that’s the main news--” began Mr.
Arlington.
“Yes, yes, we know that. But what do they say at the Capitol?”
“Most of the people can’t believe it. The crowds around the telegraph
and newspaper offices are tremendous, and there is a regular mob around
the Capitol and the White House.”
“What does President Buchanan say?”
“Hasn’t said anything yet. But there is a rumor that General Scott is
to be sent for,” and Mr. Arlington shook his head gravely, for the hero
of Mexico was still dear to his heart.
“General Scott! Then they are going to fight it?”
“It looks that way, neighbors.”
A deep murmur arose, and half a dozen began to ask as many different
questions. In the meantime the train had rolled away. Mr. Arlington
answered the questions as best he could, shook hands with his son and
with Louis; and ten minutes later moved over to where the farm wagon
had been left standing.
“I must get some groceries before we go home,” said Andy, and hurried
into the store.
“Mr. Arlington, do you really think we’ll have war?” asked Louis, when
he was left alone with the Southern veteran.
“It looks so, Louis; although I allow I don’t think it will last long
if it does come. I think the South will split from the North, and that
will be the end of it.”
“But that will be too bad.”
“That’s as how you look at it. The South will be better off alone than
under the thumb of Northern dictators. One thing is certain, we’ll do
as we please with our slaves.”
At this Louis said no more, for he saw that an agreement with his
chum’s father was out of the question. Finding Andy did not return, Mr.
Arlington presently leaped from the wagon to learn what had become of
him. As Louis sat alone he noticed half a dozen men gathered across the
way and talking earnestly. In the crowd was the mountaineer, Sam Jacks,
and presently the boy saw this man point toward him.
“We ought to teach thet kind a lesson,” were the words which drifted
to his ears, and at once Louis became alert, for he felt he was the
subject of the talk that was taking place.
Five minutes more passed, and Louis wished Andy and his father would
reappear. Then the crowd stalked over to the farm wagon. The men were
all mountaineers and of the roughest class to be found in that vicinity.
“Say, you’re a Northern lad, ain’t ye?” drawled one.
“I am from Goreville, Pennsylvania,” answered Louis.
“Got a big head on ye, ’bout wot the Northerners are goin’ to do to
us,” added a second of the group.
To this Louis made no reply. His silence seemed to anger the entire
crowd.
“Get down from thet seat!” suddenly roared Jacks, catching Louis by the
arm and jerking him forward.
“Let go! What do you mean?” cried the youth, trying to draw away.
“We are goin’ to teach you-uns a lesson!” cried another of the
mountaineers. “Come down!” and he, too, caught hold of Louis.
But now the youth was fairly aroused, and leaping to his feet managed
to wrest himself free from his second assailant. Then, as quick as a
flash, he caught up the horsewhip.
“Let go!” he commanded, to Jacks. “Let go, or I’ll let you have this
across the face!”
“I’ll let go--I will!” roared the mountaineer, and pulled Louis to the
ground. Yet, as the youth went down, the whip swung around, and the
lash took Jacks across the nose, leaving an ugly ridge behind.
The next moment Louis found himself surrounded. In vain he tried
to beat off his captors. With a savage cry, Jacks felled him to the
ground, and ere he could recover the mountaineers caught him up by the
arms and legs and bore him off in triumph towards the town pump and
watering-trough.