of war. Making a brave show of intending to force his way across the
river at a point where Pope could easily hold his own, Lee detached
Jackson and sent him around Bull Run Mountains and through Thoroughfare
Gap to fall upon his adversary's base at Manassas. As soon as Jackson
was well on his way, Lee sent other forces to join him, while still
keeping up his pretence of a purpose to force a crossing.
It was not until the head of Jackson's column appeared near Manassas
that Pope suspected his adversary's purpose. He then hastily fell back
from the river, and concentrated all his forces at Manassas, while Lee,
with equal haste, moved, with the rest of his army, to join Jackson.
His strategy had completely succeeded, and he promptly assailed Pope,
with his entire force, on the very field where the first great battle of
the war had been fought, a little more than a year before.
Pope struggled desperately, but after two days of battle, he was
completely beaten and forced to take refuge behind the defences of
Washington.
This was at the beginning of September, just three months after Lee had
taken personal command of the Army of Northern Virginia. Within that
brief time he had done things, the simplest statement of which reads
like a wonder-story. At the beginning of June a Federal army of 120,000
men lay almost within cannon-shot of the Confederate capital, while
another Federal force about one-third as large was marching unopposed to
form a junction with it, and still other Federal armies occupied the
valley and sent raiders at will throughout Northern Virginia. At the
beginning of September there remained no Federal army at all in Virginia
to oppose Lee's will, whatever it might chance to be. McClellan with his
grand army had been beaten in battle, and driven into a retreat which
ended in his complete withdrawal, after a disastrous campaign, which at
its beginning had seemed certain of success. Jackson had cleared the
valley of armies superior to his own in numbers. Pope had been outwitted
in strategy, beaten in battle, and driven to cover at Washington.
That was the story that Agatha related to Baillie early in September,
when he was fit to hear it. It stirred his blood with enthusiasm, and
bred in him an eagerness almost dangerous, to be at the head of his
battery again, and a sharer in this splendid work of war.
"Your story is not ended yet," he said, when Agatha had finished. "It is
'to be continued,'--be very sure of that. Lee will not rest content with
what he has done, marvellous as it is. He took the offensive as soon as
he had disposed of McClellan. He will surely not now assume the
defensive again, as our army did a year ago after the battle of
Manassas. He is obviously made of quite other stuff than that of his
predecessors in command. And here am I losing my share in it all,--a
convalescent in charge of a nurse, and in hiding in the enemy's country.
I tell you, Agatha, I must break out of this. As soon as I have strength
enough to ride a horse, I must find a way of getting back to Virginia.
And with the stimulus of strong desire, I shall not be long now in
regaining that much of strength. In the meanwhile, I must think out a
plan by which I can pass the Potomac without falling into the enemy's
hands."
"I have already thought of all that," returned his companion, "and I
have had others thinking of it, too,--all the friends in Maryland with
whom I am in correspondence. After studying the conditions minutely we
are agreed in the positive conviction that it will be impossible for you
to get through the Federal lines, which are more rigidly drawn and more
vigilantly guarded now than ever before. You cannot even start on such a
journey without being arrested and imprisoned, and that would completely
defeat your purpose."
"I must take the chances, then. For I simply will not sit idly here
after I get well enough to sit in a saddle."
"Listen," commanded Agatha. "You are exciting yourself, and that is very
bad for you. Besides, it is wholly unnecessary, for I have thought
myself not into despair, but into hopefulness, rather. I have devised a
plan, the success of which is practically assured in advance, by which
you and I are going back into the Confederacy. No, I will not tell you
what it is just now. You have excited and wearied yourself too much
already. You must go back to your bed now, and sleep for several hours.
When you wake, you shall have something to eat, and after that, if I
find you sufficiently calm, I will tell you all about it. In the
meantime, you may rest easy in your mind, for my plan is sure to
succeed, and it will not be difficult of execution."
XXVIII
_WHEN A MAN TALKS TOO MUCH_
When Baillie had had his rest, he asked Agatha again to tell him of her
plans. She explained that it was understood in the little town that he
was a French gentleman who had suffered a severe hemorrhage; that as
soon as he should be sufficiently recovered, it was his purpose to
return to his own country in charge of his French nurse; that she
planned in that way to sail with him from New York for Liverpool, where
he would be free, as soon as his health should return, to go to the
Bahamas and sail thence for Charleston, Wilmington, or some other
Southern port, in one of the English blockade-runners that were now
making trips almost with the regularity of packets.
Baillie approved the plan, though he lamented the length of time its
execution must consume.
"Agatha," he said,--for since that morning at Fairfax Court-house he
had addressed her only by her first name,--"I owe you my life, and I
shall owe you my liberty, too, as soon as this admirable plan of yours
can be carried out. I owe you, even now, such liberty as I have, for but
for you--"
"You mustn't forget Sam," she interrupted; "it was he and not I who
rescued you from the prison hospital."
"O, my appreciation of Sam's devotion is limitless, and my gratitude to
him will last so long as I live. But it was you who brought him North;
it was you who planned my rescue at terrible risk to yourself, and put
Sam in the way of accomplishing it. And the doctor tells me without any
sort of qualification that but for your coming to me as a nurse when you
did, I should have died certainly and quickly. Don't interrupt me,
please, I'm not going to embarrass you with an effort to thank you for
what you have done. There is a generosity so great that expressions of
thanks in return for it are a mockery--almost an insult, just as an
offer to pay for it would be. I shall not speak of these things
again--not now at least, not until time and place and circumstance
shall be fit. I only want you to know that silence on my part does not
signify indifference."
Baillie made no reference to that occasion when an untimely declaration
of his love had been wrung from him only to be met by a passionless
reminder that the time and place were inappropriate. He felt
instinctively that any reference to that utterance of his would be in
effect a new declaration of his love. In this spirit of chivalry,
Baillie scrupulously guarded both his manner and his words at this time,
lest his feelings should betray him into some expression that might
embarrass the woman whose care of him must continue for some time to
come. Feeling, on this occasion, that he had approached dangerously near
to some utterance which might subject his companion to embarrassment, he
resolutely turned the conversation into less hazardous channels.
"Your plan is undoubtedly the best that could be made under the
circumstances," he said, "and as for the waste of time, we must simply
reconcile ourselves to that. After all, I cannot hope to be strong
enough for several months to come, to resume command of my battery in
such campaigns as this great leader of ours will surely give us. For he
is really and truly a great leader, Agatha. Only a great general could
have wrought the marvels he has achieved. He would have proved himself
great if he had done nothing more than prevent McClellan's reinforcement
by sending Jackson to the valley. That was a great thought. And the next
was greater. Having compelled the Federals to divert their reinforcing
army from its purpose, he brought Jackson to Richmond, and fell upon
McClellan with a fury that compelled his vastly superior army to abandon
its campaign and retreat to the cover of its gunboats. There was a
second achievement of the kind that only great generals accomplish. And
even that did not fulfil the measure of his greatness. With a truly
Napoleonic impulse, and by truly Napoleonic methods, he instantly
converted his successful defence of Richmond into an offence which has
been equally successful, so far. By his prompt movement against Pope he
has compelled the complete abandonment of McClellan's campaign and the
withdrawal of his army from Virginia. By his crushing defeat of Pope, he
has cleared Virginia of its enemies, and changed the aspect of the war,
from one of timorous defence on the part of the Confederates to one of
confident aggression."
"What a pity it is," answered Agatha, "that some such man was not in
command when the first battle of Manassas was won!"
"Yes. Such a man, with such an opportunity, would have made a speedy end
of the trouble. He would never have given McClellan a chance to organise
such an army as that which has been besieging Richmond. However, that is
not what I was thinking of. I was going to say that a man capable of
doing what Lee has done, will not rest content with that. He will
continue in the aggressive way in which he has begun, and we shall hear
presently of other battles and other campaigns. Agatha, I simply _must_
bear a part in all this. I am getting stronger every day now, and can
sit up two hours at a time. Why can we not now carry out your plan? Why
can we not go at once to New York in our assumed personalities, and sail
immediately, so as to save all the time we can?"
"I have thought of that," the young woman answered, "but the doctor
peremptorily forbids it for the present. He hopes you will be well
enough two or three weeks hence to make the effort, but to make it short
of that time, he says, would be almost certainly to spoil all by
bringing on a relapse. You must be patient; we shall in that way make
our success a certainty, and the war will last long enough for you to
have your part in it, surely."
"Yes, unhappily for our country, it will last long enough."
The next morning brought news of a startling character. Lee was already
beginning to fulfil Baillie's prediction by an aggressive campaign.
Having driven the enemy out of Virginia, he now undertook to transfer
the scene of the fighting to the region north of the Potomac. He had
sent Jackson again to clear the valley, and was marching another corps
northward upon a parallel line east of the mountains, while holding the
remainder of his small but potent army in readiness to form a junction
with either of the detached corps when necessary. The movement clearly
foreshadowed a campaign in Maryland which, if it should prove
successful, would place the Confederates in rear of Washington, and
render that capital untenable, if Lee should win a single decisive
battle north of the Potomac.
The alarm in Washington was such as almost to precipitate a panic. For
had not Lee and his Army of Northern Virginia proved themselves far more
than a match for every general and every army that had tried conclusions
with them? Moreover, as they were advancing, full of the enthusiasm of
recent victory, and free to pursue whatever routes they pleased, there
was nobody to meet them except one or the other of two generals already
discredited by defeat at Lee's hands, and an army drawn from those that
the Army of Northern Virginia had so recently overthrown in the field.
Pope was no longer thought of as a leader fit for the task of meeting
Lee. His campaign in Virginia had ended so disastrously, that men forgot
all his former achievements, at Island Number Ten in the Mississippi,
and elsewhere. He had already been removed from command and sent to
fight Indians in the Northwest. There remained only McClellan, whom Lee
had already outmanoeuvred and outfought, and both the government and
the army had lost confidence in him. But the emergency was great, and
McClellan, who had been removed, was again ordered to take command.
From the two armies that had been driven out of Virginia, a new one was
quickly organised, which greatly outnumbered Lee's force. But instead of
moving quickly to the assault, as Grant, or Sherman, or Thomas would
have done under like circumstances, McClellan moved at a tortoise-like
pace, giving his adversary ample time in which to unite his three
columns, pass the Potomac unmolested, and push forward into Maryland.
All this was to come a little later, however. On the morning when Agatha
read the newspapers to Baillie, all that was known was that Lee was
rapidly moving northward, with evident intent to invade Maryland and
push his columns into the rear of Washington.
"This is good news for us, Agatha," Baillie said, when the despatches
had been read. "Unless Lee receives a check, the Army of Northern
Virginia will be swarming all about us here within three or four days.
If that occurs, you and I and Sam will have no difficulty in going to
Virginia by a much more direct route than the one we have been planning
to follow. An ambulance ride with liberty for its objective will do me
no harm, while you and Sam shall be provided with good horses. Stuart
will take care of that, even if he has to capture the horses from the
enemy."
"We may safely trust him for so much of accommodation," answered the
girl. "But if you excite yourself as you are doing now, you'll be ill
again, and spoil all. You must go back to bed at once and go to sleep.
That is your shortest road to rescue, now, whether Lee comes this way or
is beaten back. In either case you will need all of strength that you
can manage to accumulate."
The sick man obeyed, so far at least as going to bed was concerned. But
he found it impossible to comply with his nurse's further injunction by
going to sleep. His pulses were throbbing violently with the excitement
of hope, and his nerves were tense almost to the verge of collapse. When
the doctor returned from his round of visits he found his patient in a
fever that, in one so weak, was dangerous. During the following night
Baillie grew worse, and by the next morning the physician was convinced
that he had lost most if not all of the ground that he had gained during
three weeks of convalescence.
"Mademoiselle Roland," he said, "I must command you to forbid him to
talk hereafter, even in French."
Baillie heard the remark, and came instantly to Agatha's defence.
"It was not her fault, Doctor," he said. "It was all my own."
"O, I know that," answered the physician. "She's the discreetest nurse I
ever knew, while you are without question the most obstinate,
cantankerous, and unruly patient a nurse was ever called upon to keep in
subjection."
"Am I all that?" Baillie asked Agatha, when the doctor had left the
room; "all that he said?"
"No, certainly not. But you mustn't talk. Go to sleep."
"Thank you!" was all that he could say in the stupor which the physician
had induced with a sleeping potion.
XXIX
_A STRUGGLE OF GIANTS_
When Baillie woke from his drug-compelled sleep, his condition was far
better than the doctor had anticipated. Lee was coming now, and the sick
man was buoyed and strengthened by a confident hope of speedy rescue.
The Army of Northern Virginia was in Maryland, and Baillie was sure that
it would push rapidly eastward to and beyond the town where he had so
long lain ill.
So it would have done if all had gone well. But there was a Federal
force of eleven thousand men at Harper's Ferry. By all the principles of
strategy it ought to have retired as soon as Lee crossed the Potomac
above or below that point. To remain was to be cut off and to invite
capture. McClellan, as a trained and scientific soldier, understood this
perfectly, and he wished the force at Harper's Ferry to be withdrawn and
added to his army. He was overruled by the civilian authorities at
Washington, and the detached force remained in its entrenchments,
completely isolated and helpless.
But in the meanwhile its presence at Harper's Ferry completely blocked
Lee's only secure route of retreat in case of disaster. It was
absolutely necessary for him to reduce it before continuing his progress
northward or eastward. To that end he was obliged to send Jackson back
across the Potomac, with orders to assail Harper's Ferry from the south,
while other forces, detached for that purpose, should hold positions
north and east of the town, thus preventing the garrison's escape.
Jackson did his part promptly and perfectly, as it was his custom to do.
He carried the place, capturing the entire garrison of eleven thousand
men, and all the guns, ammunition, and military stores, which had been
accumulated there in vast quantities.
This was a very important capture, but in order to accomplish it, Lee
had been compelled to scatter his forces in a dangerous fashion, besides
losing the advantage that would have attended a rapid advance against
an enemy who could not know whither he purposed to go, but must guard
all roads at once. For from Lee's position after he had crossed the
river it was open to him to advance upon Washington or Baltimore or
Philadelphia as he might elect, keeping his adversary in the meanwhile
in a state of embarrassing uncertainty as to his purposes.
But when he sent Jackson back and detached other strong forces to hold
the avenues of escape from Harper's Ferry, his army was badly scattered,
its several parts lying at too great a distance from each other for
ready coöperation.
During the consequent days of waiting, McClellan was advancing in
leisurely fashion to meet the Confederate movement, and his army was
every day adding to its strength by the hurrying forward of fresh
regiments and brigades to its reinforcement.
Finally Lee issued an order setting forth in detail his plan for
concentrating his scattered forces. Copies of this order, showing the
exact location of each part of the army and the movements to be made by
each, were sent to all of the corps commanders. One of those copies was
lost, and fell into McClellan's hands.
For once that most leisurely of generals was in a hurry. His opportunity
had come to destroy the Army of Northern Virginia by beating it in
detail. He threw a strong force forward to assail certain of its
positions. The assault proved successful, but the success did not come
so quickly as it should have done. By determined fighting Lee gained
time in which to bring his scattered forces together again at Sharpsburg
before his adversary could fall upon him in force. There, on Antietam
Creek, on the 17th of September, 1862, was fought a battle which is
reckoned the bloodiest of all the war, in proportion to the numbers
engaged.
McClellan had seventy thousand men in line, Lee forty thousand. The
struggle began early in the morning and continued until after nightfall.
The fighting on both sides was as heroic and as determined as any that
was ever done in the world. At the end of it all both sides claimed the
victory, and neither had in fact won it. Neither had been able to drive
the other from his position. Neither had broken the other's lines or
gained any decisive advantage. And when morning came again neither side
was willing to renew the contest, and neither would retire from the
field.
For a whole day the two armies lay facing each other in grim defiance,
each ready to receive the other should it attack, but neither venturing
to make the assault.
After twenty-four hours of defiant waiting, Lee slowly retired to the
Potomac, while McClellan lay still, not venturing to follow his
adversary. Lee crossed unmolested into Virginia and took up a position
within easy striking distance, but his adversary made no attempt to
strike. McClellan presently advanced and stretched his great army along
the Potomac. But he assumed an attitude of defence, calling insistently
for reinforcements, though his army outnumbered Lee's about two to one.
He had succeeded in checking Lee's invasion of the North and turning it
back. He was content with that, and in spite of President Lincoln's
urgency he refused to do more, till at last General Burnside was ordered
to assume command in his stead.
It was confidently expected both at the North and at the South, after
Lee's withdrawal to Virginia, that as soon as his army should be rested,
he would again take the offensive, assail McClellan at some point, and
attempt a new march northward. This expectation was strengthened when
Stuart, early in October, plunged across the river with his cavalry,
galloped over the country, penetrated into Pennsylvania, and saucily
rode entirely round McClellan's army, just as he had done a few months
before at Richmond, in preparation for Lee's seven days' battle.
XXX
_THE LAST STRAW_
When the news came to Baillie and Agatha that Lee and McClellan had met
in a great battle, and that the Army of Northern Virginia had retraced
its steps across the Potomac, both lost heart a little.
But Baillie was now regaining strength at a surprising rate, and his
eagerness to carry out Agatha's plan of escape, by way of England,
Nassau, and a blockaded Southern port, became importunate.
Yielding to it, early in October, Agatha hurriedly made her final
preparations. Through her friend in New York she engaged passage for
herself, Baillie, and Sam, on a Cunard steamer appointed to sail on the
15th of the month. She made all necessary arrangements for the sick
French gentleman, his French nurse, and his negro valet to make the
journey to New York on the 14th, in order that they might sail the next
morning.
But a few days before the time set for their departure a great
excitement arose in the town where Baillie had so long lain ill. The
Confederates were coming again; they had destroyed McClellan in a great
battle, current rumour reported, and were now marching upon Washington
unopposed. So the rumours ran.
Later tidings corrected all this to some extent. It was learned that
there had been no battle as yet, and that the invading force was only
the vanguard of Lee's advance.
"I think I understand what it means," said Agatha, who had followed
Stuart's operations in the past with close attention, learning to
appreciate his methods. "This is simply one of General Stuart's
splendidly audacious raids. He rode around McClellan at Richmond, you
remember; he rode around Pope, and captured his baggage, and his
uniform, and all his mules at Manassas two months ago. I suspect that he
is simply riding around McClellan again in search of forage and stores
and glory."
"That is probably what the movement means," answered Baillie, "though
it may be made in preparation for another advance of the whole army,
just as each of his former exploits was. In either case, if he comes
this way it will answer our purpose. I shall escape with him. If it is
only a cavalry raid, of course Stuart will have to force his way back
through or over whatever obstacles McClellan may throw in his path, and
in that case there will be a continual running fight with no secure rear
for you to take shelter with. Of course, if the whole army advances, a
secure way will be open, but if only the cavalry come, there will be no
line of communication. In that case it will be necessary for you to
remain here, or rather go on to New York and sail for Liverpool as we
have both intended."
"You are forgetful, Captain Pegram. I have ridden with General Stuart
before, and as to placing myself under fire, I think you know I am not
without experience. No. If General Stuart comes this way, I shall ask
him for a horse and play outrider to the ambulance in which you are to
travel."
"But, Agatha!" he pleaded, "I am unwilling to have you expose yourself
thus needlessly. Think of the danger and the hardship, and think too of
the discomfort you must suffer as a solitary woman in company with a
horde of rough-riding cavalrymen!"