[Illustration: 9083]
OYS,” said {075}Lieutenant Graves, “we have our orders to turn out and
show what we are made of. You know General McClellan has command of the
Army of Virginia, and he thinks we've been rusting here long enough;
so we're to help General Stone in drawing out the enemy. They've so far
kept in hiding, and we've got to force them out into a square and open
fight.”
“The General thinks we're spoiling for a battle, doesn't he?”
“I suppose so. Anyway, we are to cross the Potomac at Conrad's Ferry
and wake 'em up. General McCall has his hands full watching the river
crossings, and we must help him do it.” This was good news to most of
the men, who had grown tired of inaction. The long summer had worn away,
and Ralph had often slipped away from camp and run into the negro cabins
near by, where he was sure of a nice piece of hoe cake, baked on the
hearth. The garrulous darkeys liked to see Ralph coming, and many a
question they put to him which he could scarcely answer, so little did
he know of the true state of affairs.
There are few idle moments in camp, for the duties of the soldier are
too numerous to afford him that leisure which permits of homesickness.
He has letters to write home, old ones to read; then, too, his spare
time is occupied in looking for something to eat which his knapsack
doesn't hold--not because his rations are scanty, or he is hungry, but
he grows tired of the regular diet. He is always doing duty, police or
fatigue, and the perpetual drilling, all keep him busy.
{076}
[Illustration: 0084]
Mending clothes became quite an art among the soldiers, and the manner
in which some of them darned their stockings would reflect credit
upon {077}many a housewife who has the reputation of being an ex pert
seamstress.
Wash day in camp was as important an occasion as it is at home, and
preparations were made with as much regard to convenience as the
surroundings would permit.
[Illustration: 0085]
Ralph was very fond of running into old “Aunt Judah's” cabin, for her
“pones” were especially toothsome. The old negress was not handsome--her
black skin was shriveled and seamed with age; she was nearly blind, but
she was an admirable cook.
“Massa,” she said to Ralph one day, when she had filled his knapsack
with smoking hot pone and luscious sweet potatoes, whose pulp was as
golden as the sunflower's petals,--“I'se been pondering in my own min'
and I kaint see what you all is fighting 'bout. Clar to goodness I
kaint.”
{078}
[Illustration: 0086]
“We {079}are fighting to make the Southerners come back into the Union.”
“De Union? What you mean by dat?”
“The Union--the States. There are thirty-five States, and how many
slabes does he own?”
“None at all. We don't have slaves up North.”
“Don't hab slabes? Who totes your water and picks de cotton and hoes de
fields?”
“We don't grow any cotton, and all our work is done by people whom we
hire and pay money to.”
The old slave's eyes opened wide with curiosity.
“And when dey gets sassy, does de oberseer whip 'em?” Ralph laughed
heartily as he thought of the suit for assault and battery whipping a
servant up North would bring about. Here was an old colored woman as
ignorant of her relationship to the great tide of humanity as a child.
Born in the West in a little village where no negroes were to be found,
he had seldom met one.
The old woman seemed to be talking to herself.
“It pears to me dey must be dissbedient and sassy sumtimes. All niggers
are. Wonder how dey makes dem mind. When dey runs across a right smart
uppish cullered pusson how do dey settle wid him? Did you say, massa,
dey neber whip dem?”
“No, auntie, they never do.”
Aunt Judah shook her head doubtingly. “Massa.”
“The one man governs the whole of them. Your old masters didn't like the
man who was chosen, and so they said they wouldn't stay in the Union to
be governed by him.”
“Is dat man a big man? Does he b'long to a good family?”
I was plain to her the difference between servants North and South? To
him slavery was a mere name. He knew nothing of its blighting understand
how dreary and hopeless the life of a “chattel” broke {080}out suddenly,
“dey flogs dem down here; dey has to, sumtimes. I neber was struck a
blow. I was a house servant, but my man worked on de plantation.
'Diamond Joe,' dey called him; he was lashed ebery now and den, and I
tink it made him ugly. He was a likely boy. Wy, massa used to 'clar if
he wan't so stubbon, jess like one of our plantation mules, he wouldn't
take de price of two boys for him, for he could hoe and pick mo' cotton
dan any 'mount of boys. His skin was as shiny as de satin in Missus'
dress, and dark, and he was tall like de poplar trees, and strong and
big. Joe lubbed me in dose days.”
[Illustration: 9088]
Ralph looked at her wonderingly. Here was a new thought. Did those
uncouth black folks care for each other as white people did? Were they
capable of attachments? She was almost hideous--had she ever been young?
A tear rolled down Aunt Judah's withered cheek, and she seemed to
be looking far away. She was silent so long that Ralph began to be
impatient to get back to camp with his knapsack full of good things.
“Well, auntie, where is Joe now? He must be pretty old by this time.”
A solemn look stole over her features, and looking up to where the blue
sky showed through the chinks in the little cabin roof, she said--
“In {081}Heben, I b'leeve. Oh, honey, it makes my heart heaby eben now,
and offen and offen de tears dey makes my old eyes burn. Many a day I'se
asked my hebenly Fader whar on dis big yarth my Joe was, but it must
hab been wicked fur me to ask de Great King anyting 'bout a po' cullered
boy, fur I neber had any answer. But Joe was a powerful hansum boy, de
best one on de plantation.”
[Illustration: 8089]
“How did he die?”
“Die? I didn't 'spress my 'pinion dat he _was_ dead. I has looked long
for Joe, and I 'mos knows he must be gone up above, for he lubbed me and
he lubbed de little missie--de little daisy, Missie Flossie. She was de
only one who could bring him out of his tantarums, fer po' Joe did hab
spells, when he was ugly. Massa Steve--he owned us bof--I 'members dat
day well; it was a sunshiny day, de yarth was all carpeted wid de short,
green grass, and de flowers filled de whole land wid deir sweetness. It
was so bright my heart was singing a song, and Missus Flora wanted to
be druv to town to buy some nice tings for de little missie's birfday
party. Massa {082}say 'Joe, Dicks got a sick hoss to 'tend you hitch up
de big black team, and take your mistress to town.' Joe, he whispered
to me--I had tuk de little lady out on de lawn--dat he cudn't dribe dem
speerited critters, fur he had burnt his hands roasting corn in de ashes
de night afore. 'Don't stan dar, you brack rascal,' massa said, fur he
seed him talking to me. 'Massa, I'se dead anxious to go, but I hab a
bery bad hand--caint Dick go dis time wid de missus?'
[Illustration: 9090]
“Then massa, he got as white as a sheet wif temper, and his voice was
like thunder--'No! go as I told you. Do you want anoder flogging?'
“I felt way down all fru me, sumfing was gwine to happen, for Joe he
looked so wicked, and he kep' muttering and muttering, and I was scared,
fur I knowed sumfing was about to break, when Joe 'muned wid his-self.
But oh, massa, I shall neber forget de awful night dat fell, and no Joe,
nor no missus, nor no carridge and hosses cumd home. Massa was wild.
He tore up and down de lawn, running here and shouting dar, and sending
fust one nigger, den anudder, to the neighbors' plantations to see if
missie had dun gone visiting at any ob dem. Den he called fur Dick and
his white hoss, and was jess jumping on his back when de hans' set up
a holler ing and {083}de carridge cum taring onto de lawn, and fust dey
'lowed Missus Flora was dead, fur she was cuddled up in a heap, as white
as snow. Wen dey got her to cum to she tole Massa Steve how Joe had dun
gone to town wid her and den wen she wanted to cum home he had rode 'em
off, way off inter de woods, and way inter de midst of de fick trees,
and gibing de hosses a terrible lashing he started dem, heads toward
home; den dey runned all de way ober sticks and limbs of trees till
dey foun' de open road, wen dey went so fas' Missus lost her breff and
cudn't see any mo'.
[Illustration: 9091]
“You should have seen massa den! He swore so loud it made my ears ache,
and all de time he was looking right at me. He said Joe had run away and
he'd hab de young black debil's hide off when he kotched him, and if he
was shore any ob de slabes knew he was going it ud be wuss for dem; he'd
sell 'em to de very next trader dat cumd along, and dey'd be toted down
Souf, whar dey'd be showed how to work. He swore he had nuffing but a
pack of lazy niggers roun' him, who didn't desarve to hab a good master.
And, honey, fore de Lawd, Massa Steve was a kind master, only he wud
swar and cuss at us once in awhile.”
“What became of Joe? Did they catch him?” asked Ralph, who was so deeply
interested in her story that he had forgotten all {084}about the boys in
camp who were waiting for that hot corn bread.
“Yes, massa, I seen him dragged in de next day, after dey had hunted all
night wid de dogs. Dey had torn his clothes in tatters, and his han's
and face was all red wid de blood whar he fought wid dem. De master he
was so mad he made de slaves all come outen deir cabins, to see how dey
sarbed a runaway. I can see it now”--and she covered her eyes with her
wrinkled black hands--“I can see it all. Oh, Joe, I neber forgits dat
day. And when de cruel 'black snake' cut his back ebery time it hit him
he neber said a word, but he kind o' shibered all over and set his teeth
hard, but I screamed out 'Po' Joe! Will nobody pity po' Joe?' and fell
down on de grass all cold as a stone. My breff was gone, and I fought
de angel ob de Lord had done called me home and jess den Massa Steve
say--'Go to your quarters, Joe.' My Joe, he walk off as proud as a king.
Missus she was bery sorry for me, and was allus bery kind to me, but Joe
neber sing in de field any mo'. He would fix his eyes on me so terrible
I was almos' afraid of him, and he would mutter dat de avenger was on
de white man's track. 'I'm gwine to be free. Neber no more will dey lash
Joe.' I used to tink de walls would hear him and tell de massa. But dey
didn't, and one night wen ebery libing soul 'cept de watch dogs were in
deir beds, de hosses 'gan to stamp and kick in deir boxes, and de dogs
were howling, and den we heard de white folks screaming, louder and
louder, and fas' as we could, we ran outen our cabins, and dar up on de
little knoll-whar de house stood, we saw de black smoke pouring out ob
de windows and rolling up to de sky, and den turning redder and redder,
and we could 'stinguish Massa Steve and Missus Flora out on de lawn jess
as dey jumped from deir beds.
“De oberseer was fighting de flames and he tole us to get all de buckets
we could, and fotch de water from de well in dem, and he jumped on a
hoss and galloped to de nearest plantation for help, and dey all turned
out, white people and slabes, and brought water, and soon de fire
{085}wasn't red no mo', but de house--you can see de walls now ober dar,
whar dey stand to 'min' me ebery day ob de dear massa and missie and de
little lamb, Flossie--was no house any more, all de insides gone, and de
black outside standing up in de summer air.”
[Illustration: 9093]
She paused to wipe away the hot tears that blinded her.
“What became of your master and his family?”
“Massa and missus were presarbed, but de little white blos-whose birfday
had been so bright, dey didn't know whar to look for her, and her mudder
was screeching 'My baby--my baby!' and going out o' one faint into
anoder, and her pa trying to rush inter de smoking house and calling for
his Flossie--oh, it was enuff to make de har turn gray!
“She muss hab been frightened so when de smoke got in her pretty blue
eyes dat she didn't know how to fin' de way out, fer she was crouched
down behind de front stairs, and dat's de spot whar Dick found her, wid
her night-dress all on fire, but de light tole him whar to look.
“When he put de little precious chile in my-arms she put her {086}baby
fingers on my black face and she said, 'Judah, tell mamma--I am not
hurt--but I caint see!' Honey, de nex' day she shut dem po' little eyes
on dis world, and missie, whose heart broke den, followed her lamb to de
hebenly pastures whar de good Lawd 'tends to all deir wants.”
“What became of your master?”
“Massa Steve? He went ober de sea, and he died in anoder country. De
plantation and all de slabes went to his brudder, who had de big house
yo' sees ober dar on de road put up. No one eber goes near de old place,
fer dey say its hanted.”
[Illustration: 0094]
“But the old home and Joe? You don't think he had anything to do with
setting it on fire?”
“Massa, de good Book tells de po' creatures dat dey musn't form no
'pinion to hurt deir neighbors. It goes agin me to say dat he did, but
yo' didn't know Joe, and I did.”
“Did they suspect him?”
“I neber could look dem in de face to know, but Joe neber was seen after
de house was burned, and dat's many years in de past.”
Ralph drew a long breath, and bidding the old negress goodbye, he
{087}went back to camp with a sad heart. When he entered the camp he
found the men gathered in knots, discussing the news they had just
received of a coming engagement.
“What are we going out for?” asked a new man.
“So as to give the rebs a chance to lay us out, or be laid out
themselves. What do you suppose we go to war for?”
[Illustration: 9095]
Old Bill's gruff tones nettled the man.
“It don't hurt you to answer a civil question, does it?”
“Well, not exactly. You see General McCall has had an advance guard out
reconnoitering, but he can't persuade the boys over on the Virginia side
to show up on open ground. They say there's a big force of Confeds at
Leesburg, five miles or so back from the river.”
“This will be my first battle,” the new recruit said, with a sigh, “but
I don't expect it'll be my last.”
“That's right--never say die. The man who is a little chicken-hearted at
first, often turns out to be the most courageous soldier.”
“I remember reading once,” Ralph interposed, “that at some charge on a
battery in one of the battles Napoleon fought when the odds were greatly
against him, his attention was called by one of his officers to the
cowardice of one poor fellow who was pressing on, up to the cannon's
mouth. His knees were shaking, {088}his eyes bulged out, and he gave
every evidence of being terror-stricken. But his gaze was fixed on the
coveted point, his teeth were set hard, and he kept resolutely on. 'That
man is not a coward,' said the great general; 'he sees that his life is
in danger, and still he does not shrink from his duty, but faces death
like a man. He will be shot before he yields.”
[Illustration: 00896]
“But the soldier was not wounded. He lived to become an officer in the
very regiment which one would have expected to see disgraced by his
cowardice, and won great fame through his heroic bravery in after
engagements.”
“Boys,” said Old Bill, who was always the spokesman for the {089}party,
“the 'Little Corporal'--that's Napoleon Bonaparte,” he continued in an
aside to the new man, who made a wry face at being singled out for an
explanation--“was right. It's agin human nature not to feel a little
shaky when you are going into your first battle. It's how you do your
duty that settles your standing. If you attend to that no one can blame
you for having a leetle private fear of your own.”
[Illustration: 0097]