THE END OF THE SIEGE
It was the morning of the Fourth of July. Jeanne awoke from a deep
sleep. Generally about four o'clock the shrapnel shells were thrown
more furiously than at any other time of the day. She listened for a few
moments and then turned to Bob excitedly.
"Bob, Bob," she cried, "wake up. The shells have stopped falling."
"What!" cried Bob, awake instantly. "Are you sure? Why it is true! How
quiet it is! What can be the matter?"
The girls began to dress hurriedly and then went outside the cave to learn
the cause of the cessation of the firing. People everywhere were running
out of their caves to find the reason. A painful calm prevailed, and so
long had the constant firing been kept up that the stillness was actually
oppressive.
"What is the matter?" asked Bob as an old gray-headed soldier passed on
the hillside near the cave. Stopping and touching his cap the man replied:
"It's all over. The white flag floats from our forts. Vicksburg has
surrendered!"
With a cry that Jeanne never forgot Bob turned and passed into the cave.
A feeling of gladness and thankfulness welled up into Jeanne's heart,
succeeded by a great wave of pity for these people who had fought so long
and well.
"Bob," she called, softly, following after the girl and putting her arms
about her, "Bob, don't grieve so."
"Don't," cried Bob, throwing her off passionately. "You're glad! You know
you are."
"Yes, Bob. Just as you would be if your side had won, but dear, dear Bob,
I am sorry for you and for your brave people who have fought so well."
"If they cheer, I'll hate them," said Bob fiercely. "Oh, Jeanne, Jeanne,
my heart is broken!"
Jeanne's own tears were falling fast, and Bob seeing that she did not
triumph over her let her head fall upon her shoulder and thus Colonel
Peyton found them.
His face was very pale and he seemed bent and broken. He took his daughter
into his arms but he was more in need of comfort than capable of giving it.
"It is the beginning of the end," he said brokenly. "When Vicksburg
falls it is but the beginning of the end of the Confederacy. Our cause
is doomed. We are fighting for a forlorn hope. Oh, my country, my country!"
He bowed his head upon his daughter's and the great tears fell fast.
Jeanne stole from the cave and met Dick coming for her.
"See!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Those are Federal soldiers, Jeanne. We
are in the United States once more. Look at the Court House Hill! What do
you see?"
"The Stars and Stripes," cried Jeanne, tears of gladness rolling down her
cheeks. "Oh, Dick, how good it is to see our own flag once more!"
"Isn't it? I could shout and sing for joy if it were not for these poor
fellows who have fought and starved so long. It is a hard thing to be on
the losing side."
"True, for you, my boy," said Colonel Peyton joining them with Bob on his
arm. "We are fortunate in having so chivalrous a foe. There have been but
few cheers and no exultation over our poor unsuccessful fellows. Not a
jeer, nor a taunt from a Federal soldier."
"And the river flows on as calmly as ever, and the sun still shines, yet
Vicksburg has fallen," said Bob bitterly.
"Bear up, daughter. A soldier must learn to accept defeat as heroically as
victory," said her father. "Look, what a grand sight it is to see those
transports round the bend. See how serenely they draw up in the very teeth
of those grim batteries that were dealing death but yesterday. Now they
are silent, and their Conqueror comes boldly to their very sides."
"What are all those people running down there for?" asked Bob. "Surely
they are not welcoming their victors!"
"Bread, daughter. The Federal transports are full of supplies which are
brought for the starving people. It is a magnanimous foe!"
"Transports," cried Jeanne eagerly. "I wonder--where is Snowball?'"
"Hyar, missy," cried the girl, running forward. "Oh, missy, Massa Linkum's
men done say we all's free. Dat Fader Abe done set us niggas free way
long las' Jan'wry."
"It may be so," cried Jeanne delightedly. "I don't know, but come and let
us see if the transport that your mother is on is down there."
With a howl of delight Snowball went scampering down the hill toward
the boats, Jeanne following after her. The Gem City lay at anchor close
to the shore. Captain Leathers was dealing out supplies to the starving
people that surrounded the boat.
"Captain Leathers," cried Jeanne breathlessly as they reached his side.
"Why, bless my heart, if it isn't my little friend," cried the Captain
in surprise. "What are you doing here? Yes; Tenny's right there on deck."
"I'll tell you all about it just as soon as I see Tenny," said Jeanne
smiling at him brightly. "Come, Snowball."
She ran quickly to where old Tenny stood. "Tenny," she cried, "look here!"
The old woman turned and catching sight of Snowball gave a shriek of joy.
"It's my babby," she screamed. "Kum hyar ter yer mammy, yer bressed chile!
Kum dis bery minnit!"
Laughing and crying she caught the girl to her capacious bosom.
"It's the lill' missy dat bringed me," cried Snowball. "Oh, mammy, dey
says we's free!"
"'Course we is, honey chile. Whar you been dat you didn't know dat? Massa
Linkum done say dat long ago. Whar you been?"
"Hyar in Vicksburg. Whar you bin, mammy?"
"Eberywhar, chile. Ef I hadn't er cooked fer de sojers dey couldn't a tuk
de city. Cap'n Leathers say so. But hyar we is. Not mindin' our manners
an' a thankin' de lill' missy fer brungin' yer ter me."
But with the first word of thanks Jeanne darted away. She stopped for a
moment to talk to the Captain and explain her presence in the city, and
then went back to the cave where Dick awaited her.
"Come," said the boy. "General Grant is expected in the city soon. The
Confederates are coming from the camp to be registered and paroled."
"When can we go home, Dick?" asked the girl as they passed into the
streets again.
"Any time now, Jeanne. I want to see the General about sending a message
to father. How quiet it seems after the bombardment! Restful, isn't it?"
"It's heavenly," sighed Jeanne contentedly. "I am so happy, Dick, and the
silence enfolds me like a garment. To think that I will really see father
and mother once more! It has been a year lacking a few days since I saw
them. How little I thought that so much would happen before I should see
them again. How anxious they must be! But now! a few more days and I shall
be with them."
"There comes General Grant," said Dick suddenly.
A glittering cavalcade of Federals and rebel officers at full gallop came
down the Jackson road from the camp without. In the midst of the throng
there appeared a man, small in stature, heavily set, a broad face covered
with sandy beard, habited in a plain blue uniform of flannel with two
stars of a major-general upon his shoulders. His face was impassive but
there was the faintest gleam of satisfaction in his cold gray eyes.
"'Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of his terrible swift sword:
His truth is marching on!'"
sang a low voice beside them. "Children, this is a glorious day." Mr.
Huntsworth's voice was tremulous with emotion and his eyes were misty. "It
is a sad spectacle to see brave men humiliated and humbled, but aside
from my sympathy for the Southerners it makes my old heart beat with joy
to be under the Stars and Stripes once more. Let us greet the General."
He stepped forward briskly. General Grant stopped his horse as they
approached.
"We want to give you welcome, sir," said Mr. Huntsworth extending his
hand. "We are Unionists released only by your successful siege from
'durance vile.' Welcome, sir, welcome!"
"You must have found our shells pretty warm," said Grant shaking his
hands. "How did you live?"
"Sir," replied the old gentleman whimsically, "you made us like the
Southerners' favorite bread: dodgers."
Grant smiled, and then asked. "And are these Federals too?"
"One is a soldier, the other a--what shall I call you, Jeanne? A blockade
runner or what?"
"I am a Union girl," said Jeanne smiling into the gray eyes above her.
"A Union girl longing for home."
"Where is your home?" asked Grant. "Suppose you three come along with me
and tell me the whole story."
They did as he requested. The man of iron will heard them silently. Then
he spoke.
"Get your dispatches ready," he said. "I will send them with mine to
Washington and then have them forwarded. You will take your sister home of
course."
"I ought to get back to my regiment as quick as I can, sir."
"Nonsense! I will write your General concerning it. If you have been in
ever since the war opened it's high time you had a furlough. I will stand
responsible. You shall all start to-morrow."
It was a sad leave taking for Bob and Jeanne.
"I will see you again," said Jeanne tearfully as she told Bob good-bye.
"Something tells me that we will meet again. And when the war is over,
Bob, we will have fine times together. Where do you go from here?"
"To Richmond," answered Bob drearily. "You're not leaving us much
territory, Jeanne. We are being narrowed down. I fear, I fear----"
With a burst of tears she ran from them and it was many a long day before
Jeanne saw her again. With saddened hearts they left the city of terraces
behind them, and at last Jeanne was en route for home.
Home! One of the sweetest words in the English language. The brilliant
verdure of the Southland receded from view, and the more sober vegetation
of the Northland came in sight. To Jeanne's longing eyes it had never
appeared more beautiful. As they boarded a train they heard the newsboys
crying--"Victory at Gettysburg! Grand victory at Gettysburg! Paper,
sir? Paper?"
"Here!" called Dick and Mr. Huntsworth in one breath, and they were soon
emersed in the details of the fight at Gettysburg.
"It's the turning point of the war," said Mr. Huntsworth. "It cannot be
long surely before Lee will surrender."
"It would seem so," cried Dick with exultation. "But who can withstand
us? We have freed the negroes! We have taken New Orleans, Vicksburg, the
mighty, has fallen, and Lee's army defeated in his invasion of free soil.
Hurrah!
"'In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make them free,
While God is marching on!'"
he broke out boyishly. Mr. Huntsworth joined in and soon another and
another took up the terrible Battle Hymn of the Republic until it rolled
in one grand volume above the rush of the train.
"Jeanne, there's father," cried Dick as the train drew in at the
Cincinnati station.
The girl looked out to see both Mr. and Mrs. Vance standing on the
platform watching the outcoming people eagerly.
With a cry of thankfulness she darted forward and flung herself into her
mother's arms.