IN DIXIE LAND
"Oh, Mr. Huntsworth," she cried, "I have something to tell you," and she
rapidly related the incident of the young Lieutenant.
"Are you sure the fellow was telling the truth?" queried the old man
smiling at her enthusiasm. "Sometimes rascals tell all sorts of stories in
order to get money."
"This man was a gentleman and I know he was truthful. He didn't want
to take the money at all. I had to plead with him to get him to do it.
Besides he did not speak to me until I had spoken to him first. He was
not strong enough for duty and he showed it."
"Then, my dear, you have done a noble thing. If the young man told the
truth his position is indeed a sad one. His rebel kinsmen would turn from
him if he espoused the cause of the Union and his duty is doubly hard that
he must fight against father, home, neighbors and friends. I am afraid
that we do not appreciate all that a man gives up when, a Southerner by
birth, he throws his lot in with ours. Many high-minded men have gone
with the South because their state went that way, and it takes nobleness
indeed to rise above the call of one's own state when the government
demands the sacrifice. I should like to have seen the young fellow. Did he
give his name?"
"Why, I did not think to ask it," exclaimed Jeanne. "But father will know
of course."
"So you really believe that he will go to your father's."
"Certainly I do."
"Oh, for the faith of childhood," exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "But whether
he does or not you seemed to have infused new life into him and that is
what a man needs most when he is discouraged. You are a true patriot,
child. But now, my little Quixote, let's go to General Wallace. I have
explained everything to him, but he desires to see you personally."
The headquarters of Gen. Lewis Wallace who was at this time in charge of
the city of Memphis were soon reached, and Jeanne and her friend were
ushered into his presence. A man of medium height, rather slender in
build, stern of feature but whose eyes beamed with kindness, serious of
mien and visage and habited in a plain suit of blue flannel with two
stars upon his shoulders denoting a Major-General in the United States
Army, rose to greet them. Full of chivalric dash, possessing a cool head
with a capacity for large plans and the steady nerve to execute whatever
he conceived, the young General was an interesting figure and Jeanne
gazed at him with some curiosity.
"So, my little maid," said the General. "You wish to go to New Orleans?"
"Yes, sir," answered Jeanne returning his scrutiny modestly.
"Do you not know that it will be a difficult matter to do so? Farragut
is still storming the batteries of Vicksburg and while a transport goes
this morning to take supplies to Captain Davis, and you could go down that
far on it, still it is scarcely the time for a girl to make a visit."
"I must go, General," said Jeanne firmly.
"Will you tell me why, my child?"
"I cannot, sir."
"But I cannot let you subject yourself to danger unless there is some
necessity for it. It seems to me that a mere visit could be postponed
until a safer season. Now unless there are urgent reasons for it I feel
compelled to forbid your going."
"Sir," said Jeanne blushing at her temerity yet speaking boldly
notwithstanding, "there are urgent reasons for my going. I do not wish to
tell them because they concern the government. But my father would not
have let me come had there not been necessity."
"You surely do not mean that you are an emissary of the government?"
exclaimed the General in surprise. "Why, you are but a little girl."
"But exceedingly patriotic, General," interrupted Mr. Huntsworth. "She
has given a fair to raise money for the soldiers, made I don't know
how many shirts, socks and handkerchiefs and just now emptied her purse
to send a soldier home to her parents to be taken care of. Best of all
she can relish a pun when she hears one which you will agree is a rare
accomplishment for a girl or even a woman. Oh, she is capable of anything."
"I believe it," laughed the General. "I fear that I shall have to give
up before such a formidable array of accomplishments. Have you really done
all those things?"
"All but the shirts," answered Jeanne shyly, "mother makes those. You
see father works for the government, mother is in the Women's Relief
Association and Dick is in the army, so I just had to do something to
help too."
"I see," said the General. "What is your father's name?"
"Richard Vance, sir."
"Richard Vance!" exclaimed the General. "Oh! I understand everything now.
You shall go to New Orleans, child, if our boats can get you there. The
transport will start in an hour. Can you be ready to go by that time?"
"I am ready now, sir."
"That is the bearing of a true soldier," approved the General. "I will
give you a letter to Farragut----"
"I have one to Commodore Porter, sir," interrupted Jeanne, producing the
missive. "He is my father's friend."
"That is all right," General Wallace hastily scanned the letter. "But I
will add a few lines to Farragut. Success to you, my child."
"Thank you, sir," answered Jeanne gratefully.
"Now we will amuse ourselves by walking about a little until the transport
starts," said Mr. Huntsworth as they left the room. "My train goes this
afternoon."
"Then I shall have to tell you good-bye soon," said the girl regretfully.
"I am sorry, Mr. Huntsworth. You have been very kind to me. My journey
would not have been so easy had it not been for you."
"Tut, tut, I have done nothing," said the old gentleman. "I have pleased
myself in helping you. I was glad to have such a bright little companion.
And we shall meet again, my dear. I promise you that. I am not going to
lose sight of my little comrade easily. I want to bring my daughter, Anne,
to see you when you get home."
"I wish you would," replied Jeanne. "I should like to know her. Mr.
Huntsworth, don't you think I might send a telegram to my father from
here to let him know that I am all right and about to start for New
Orleans?"
"Why, bless my soul, child! That is the very thing to do! What a head you
have! There is the office on the other side of the street."
"Yes; that was what made me think of it."
The telegram dispatched, the two wended their way to Jackson Park.
The statue of the old hero of New Orleans stood in the centre of the
green. It was inclosed by a circular iron fence and ornamented by
carefully trained shrubbery. The bust of the hero was placed on the
top of a plain shaft of marble about eight feet high. On the north side
of the shaft was an inscription.
"Look!" exclaimed Mr. Huntsworth. "Some rampant rebel has marred that
inscription."
Jeanne looked and saw the writing which read "The Federal Union: It
Must be Preserved"--the words Federal and Union had been chipped out,
presenting an appearance as if a small hammer had been struck across them.
"The villain!" continued the old gentleman irascibly. "He ought to be hung
who ever he is!"
"It is a pity," said Jeanne. "Isn't this a cruel war, Mr. Huntsworth,
that the things both the North and South have been so proud of now become
hateful to one part of the country? I never thought so much about it until
since I met that young man this morning."
"It is a terrible thing for brothers to be arrayed against each other as
we are," assented Mr. Huntsworth. "But don't think about it too much. It
is a pity that your young life should be clouded by the knowledge. You
think too much for your age."
"I am better for it," said Jeanne. "Wouldn't it be dreadful for me to
laugh and play and be glad all day when the country is in peril? Every
one ought to think."
"Perhaps you are right. But sometimes I have heard you say things that
made me think you a bit uncanny, as the Scotch say. I am going to advise
your father to turn you out to grass when the war is over. I suppose it
would be useless to urge such a thing so long as the war continues."
"'To turn me out to grass,'" laughed Jeanne. "What a funny expression.
Do you mean for me to live in the fields like the cows and the horses?"
"Well, something on that order," smiled Mr. Huntsworth. "Your father will
understand what I mean. See, there is your steamer, child. I will see you
aboard and then I must say good-bye."
The steamer which had been a passenger packet plying her trade between
St. Louis and New Orleans before the war had been converted into a
transport for carrying men and supplies for the government. As Mr.
Huntsworth and Jeanne ascended the gangplank they were met by the Captain.
"Is this the young lady who is to be our guest down the river?" he asked
in such a hearty way that Jeanne's heart warmed to him immediately.
"General Wallace advised me that I was to expect one."
"This is the girl, Captain," replied Mr. Huntsworth. "And I hope for your
sake that you and your crew are thoroughly Union, otherwise it would be
better for you to meet with a rebel ram. I don't believe that the Johnnies
could make it any warmer for you than she could."
"This is just the place for her then," declared the Captain smilingly.
"We are Union to the core, Miss Vance. I believe that is your name."
"Yes, sir; my name is Jeanne Vance, but please do not call me 'Miss
Vance.' It makes me feel so strange."
"All right, my little girl. I will do as you say. I am glad that you have
no grown-up notions about you. I foresee that we shall get along famously.
This is the way to the cabin, and that room is where you will bunk. It
is next to mine. You can call on me or Tennessee for anything you need."
"Tennessee!" ejaculated Jeanne with a puzzled look.
"Yes; our cook. We call her Tenny for short, and she is about the jolliest
old darky that ever trod a deck. A good motherly woman with a white soul
if she is black. Now make yourself comfortable. I will send Tenny to you
to help you. I have some things to attend to on deck."
"Isn't he kind?" exclaimed Jeanne. "How good people are to girls traveling
alone!"
"It is because they are Americans," said Mr. Huntsworth. "You should
be proud of such a country. I am glad that you have fallen into such
pleasant hands. I will tell your father if I see him before you do. Will
you stay in New Orleans long?"
"I don't know. I will have to hear from my father about that. But how easy
it has been to get there!"
"The most difficult part is to come," said the old gentleman gravely.
"Once the Vicksburg batteries are passed you will be safe. I do not think
that this boat will try to make the run. She is hardly in fighting shape.
Of course you will be transferred to a gun boat. Well, well, I hope that
you will get through all right and that we will soon meet again. Good-bye,
little girl."
"Good-bye, sir," and Jeanne shook hands with him cordially. "Thank you so
much for all your kindness. I hope that I will see you again. Good-bye."
Another hand shake and the old gentleman left the cabin slowly, and went
on shore.
"Done you feel bad, honey," and a fat negress came up to her as she sat
down on the side of her berth feeling rather forlorn. "Wus dat yer par?"
"No," and Jeanne looked up quickly with a smile. "Are you Tennessee? I am
glad to see you. The Captain told me about you."
"Yes; I'se Tennessee, honey, but lawsie! Dey doesn't call me nuffin but
Tenny. But ef yer want ter see the las' ob de ole gem'muns jest foller
yer aunty ter de deck."
Jeanne followed the negress, and stood on the deck watching the
preparations for departure. Mr. Huntsworth saw her and waved his
hand. Jeanne waved hers in response, and as the transport backed out into
the river and steamed southward, she gazed at him until his figure grew
to be a tiny speck and then disappeared in the distance.
"Now, missy, I'se got ter ten' ter de dinner, but you can kum wid me ef
yer likes, elsen you can stay hyar and watch de ribber. Most folks likes
ter do dat. I 'spect mebbe dats de best thing fer yer."
"Well, then I will stay, Mrs. Tenny," smiled Jeanne.
"Mrs. Tenny! Huh! Who is yer talkin' to, honey? I'se jest Tenny or aunty
jest as yer likes. But done go ter puttin' no missis on to it. White folks
done do dat down hyar."
"Then I will call you Tenny," said Jeanne, recoiling just a little from
calling the woman aunty. "But it doesn't seem right not to say Mrs."
"Yes, missy, it's all right. Now I'll get up a good dinner. 'Specks you
is powerful hungry, ain't yer? Ole Tenny gwine ter do her bes' fer de
little missy," and the good creature hurried below.