CHAPTER X.

AFTER THE VICTORY.

The two ramrods were still pacing to and fro, when I aroused in the gray

of the morning; but they looked very misty and moist, as if they were

impalpables that were shortly to evaporate. The Major poked his head

between the flaps at eight o'clock, and said that breakfast was ready;

but the ramrod nearest me kept vigilantly alongside, and I thought he

had been invited also. The other ramrod guarded the empty tent, and I

think that he believed me a doppel-ganger likewise.

I wondered what was to be done with me, as the hours slipped rapidly by.

The guards were relieved again at ten o'clock, and Quartermaster's men

commenced to take down the tents. Camps were to be moved, and I inquired

solicitously if I was to be moved also. The Major replied that prisoners

were commonly made to walk along the road, escorted by horsemen, and I

imagined, with dread, the companionship of negroes, estrays, ragged

Confederates, and such folk, while the whole army should witness my

degradation. Finally, all the tents were lifted and packed in wagons, as

well as the furniture. I adhered to a stool, at which the teamster

looked wistfully, and the implacable sentinels walked to and fro. A

rumor became current among the private soldiers, that I was the nephew

of the southern General Lee, whose wife had been meantime captured at

Hanover Court House. Curious groups sauntered around me, and talked

behind their hands. One man was overheard to say that I had fought

desperately, and covered myself with glory, and another thought that I

favored my uncle somewhat, and might succeed to his military virtues.

"I guess I'll take that cheer, if you ain't got no objection," said the

teamster, and he slung it into the wagon. What to do now troubled me

materially; but one of the soldiers brought a piece of rail, and I

"squatted" lugubriously on the turf.

"If you ever get to Richmond," said I, "you shall be considerately

treated." (Profound sensation.)

"Thankee!" replied the man, touching his cap; "but I'm werry well

pleased _out_ o' Richmond, Captain."

Here the Major was seen approaching, a humorous smile playing about his

eyes.

"You are discharged," said he; "General Marcy will return your pass, and

perhaps your papers."

I wrung his hand with indescribable relief, and he sent the "ramrod" on

guard, to saddle my horse. In a few minutes, I was mounted again, much

to the surprise of the observers of young Lee, and directly I stood

before the kindly Chief of Staff. At my request, he wrote a note to the

division commander, specifying my good behavior, and restoring to me all

privileges and immunities. He said nothing whatever as to the mistake in

the papers, and told me that, on special occasions, I might keep with

advances, by procuring an extraordinary pass at head-quarters. In short,

my arrest conduced greatly to my efficiency. I invariably carried my

Richmond despatches to General Marcy, thereafter, and, if there was

information of a legitimate description, he gave me the benefit of it.

My own brigade lay at Dr. Gaines's house, during this time, and we did

not lack for excitement. Just behind the house lay several batteries of

rifled guns, and these threw shells at hourly intervals, at certain

Confederate batteries across the river. The distance was two miles or

less; but the firing was generally wretched. Crowds of soldiers gathered

around, to watch the practice, and they threw up their hats applaudingly

at successful hits. Occasionally a great round shot would bound up the

hill, and a boy, one day, seeing one of these spent balls rolling along

the ground, put out his foot to stop it, but shattered his leg so

dreadfully that it had to be amputated. Dr. Gaines was a rich,

aristocratic, and indolent old Virginian, whose stables, summerhouses,

orchards, and negro-quarters were the finest in their district. The

shooting so annoyed him that he used to resort to the cellar; several

shots passed through his roof, and one of the chimneys was knocked off.

His family carriages were five in number, and as his stables were turned

into hospitals, these were all hauled into his lawn, where their

obsolete trimmings and queer shape constantly amused the soldiers. About

this time I became acquainted with some officers of the 5th Maine

regiment, and by permission, accompanied them to Mechanicsville. I was

here, on the afternoon of Thursday, May 27, when the battle of Hanover

Court House was fought. We heard the rapid growl of guns, and continuous

volleys of musketry, though the place was fourteen miles distant. At

evening, a report was current that the Federals had gained a great

victory, and captured seven hundred prisoners. The truth of this was

established next morning; for detachments of prisoners were from time to

time brought in, and the ambulances came to camp, laden with the

wounded. I took this opportunity of observing the Confederate soldiers,

as they lay at the Provost quarters, in a roped pen, perhaps one hundred

rods square.

It was evening, as I hitched my horse to a stake near-by, and pressed up

to the receptacle for the unfortunates. Sentries enclosed the pen,

walking to-and-fro with loaded muskets; a throng of officers and

soldiers had assembled to gratify their curiosity; and new detachments

of captives came in hourly, encircled by sabremen, the Southerners

being disarmed and on foot. The scene within the area was ludicrously

moving. It reminded me of the witch-scene in Macbeth, or pictures of

brigands or Bohemian gypsies at rendezvous, not less than five hundred

men, in motley, ragged costumes, with long hair, and lean, wild, haggard

faces, were gathered in groups or in pairs, around some fagot fires. In

the growing darkness their expressions were imperfectly visible; but I

could see that most of them were weary, and hungry, and all were

depressed and ashamed. Some were wrapped in blankets of rag-carpet, and

others wore shoes of rough, untanned hide. Others were without either

shoes or jackets, and their heads were bound with red handkerchiefs.

Some appeared in red shirts; some in stiff beaver hats; some were

attired in shreds and patches of cloth; and a few wore the soiled

garments of citizen gentlemen; but the mass adhered to homespun suits of

gray, or "butternut," and the coarse blue kersey common to slaves. In

places I caught glimpses of red Zouave breeches and leggings; blue

Federal caps, Federal buttons, or Federal blouses; these were the spoils

of anterior battles, and had been stripped from the slain. Most of the

captives were of the appearances denominated "scraggy" or "knotty." They

were brown, brawny, and wiry, and their countenances were intense,

fierce, and animal. They came from North Carolina, the poorest and least

enterprising Southern State, and ignorance, with its attendant virtues,

were the common facial manifestations. Some lay on the bare ground, fast

asleep; others chatted nervously as if doubtful of their future

treatment; a few were boisterous, and anxious to beg tobacco or coffee

from idle Federals; the rest--and they comprehended the greater

number--were silent, sullen, and vindictive. They met curiosity with

scorn, and spite with imprecations. A child--not more than four years of

age, I think--sat sleeping in a corner upon an older comrade's lap. A

gray-bearded pard was staunching a gash in his cheek with the tail of

his coat. A fine-looking young fellow sat with his face in his hands,

as if his heart were far off, and he wished to shut out this bitter

scene. In a corner, lying morosely apart, were a Major, three Captains,

and three Lieutenants,--young athletic fellows, dressed in rich gray

cassimere, trimmed with black, and wearing soft black hats adorned with

black ostrich-feathers. Their spurs were strapped upon elegantly fitting

boots, and they looked as far above the needy, seedy privates, as lords

above their vassals.

After a time, couples and squads of the prisoners were marched off to

cut and carry some firewood, and water, for the use of their pen, and

then each Confederate received coffee, pork, and crackers; they were

obliged to prepare their own meals, but some were so hungry that they

gnawed the raw pork, like beasts of prey. Those who were not provided

with blankets, shivered through the night, though the rain was falling,

and the succession of choking coughs that ran through the ranks, told

how ill they could afford the exposure. Major Willard had charge of

these men, and he sent a young officer to get me admittance to the pen,

that I might speak with them.

"Good evening, Major," I said, to the ranking Confederate officer, and

extended my hand. He shook it, embarrassedly, and ran me over with his

eye, as if to learn my avocation. "Can I obtain any facts from you," I

continued, "as to the battle of Hanover?"

"Fuh what puhpose?" he said, in his strong southern dialect.

"For publication, sir."

He sat up at once, and said that he should be happy to tell me anything

that would not be a violation of military honor. I asked him, therefore,

the Confederate Commandant at Hanover, the number of brigades,

regiments, and batteries engaged, the disposition of forces, the

character of the battle, and the losses, so far as he knew, upon his own

side. Much of this he revealed, but unguardedly let out other matters,

that direct inquiry could not have discovered. I took notes of the

legitimate passages, trusting to memory for the rest; and think that I

possessed his whole stock of information, in the course of an hour's

manoeuvring. It seemed that General Branch, formerly a member of the

Federal congress, had been sent with some thousands of Carolina troops

across the upper Chickahominy, to see if it would not be possible to

turn the Federal right, and cut off one of its brigades; but a stronger

Federal reconnoissance had gone northward the day before, and

discovering Branch's camp-fires, sent, during the night, for

reinforcements. In the end, the "North State" volunteers were routed,

their cannon silenced or broken, and seven hundred of their number

captured. The Federals lost a large number of men killed, and the

wounded upon both sides, were numerous.

The Confederate Major was of the class referred to in polite American

parlance, as a "blatherskite." He boasted after the manner of his

fellow-citizens from the county of "Bunkum," but nevertheless feared and

trembled, to the manifest disgust of one of the young Captains.

"Majuh!" said this young man, "what you doin' thah! That fellow's makin'

notes of all your slack; keep your tongue! aftah awhile you'll tell the

nombah of the foces! Don't you s'pose he'll prent it all?"

The Major had, in fact, been telling me how many regiments the "old

Nawth State, suh," had furnished to the "suhvice," and I had the names

of some thirty colonels, in order. The young Captain gave me a sketch of

General Branch, and was anxious that I should publish something in

extenuation of North Carolina valor.

"We have lost mo' men," said he, "than any otha' Commonwealth; but these

Vuhginians, whose soil, by----! suh, we defend suh! Yes, suh! whose soil

we defend; these Vuhginians, stigmatize us as cowads! _We_, suh! yes

suh, _we_, that nevah wanted to leave the Union,--_we cowads_! Look at

ou' blood, suh, ou' blood! That's it, by----! look at that! shed on

every field of the ole Dominion,--killed, muhdud, captued, crippled! We

_cowads_! I want you prent that!"

I was able to give each of the officers a drop of whiskey from my flask,

and I never saw men drink so thirstily. Their hands and lips trembled as

they took it, and their eyes shone like lunacy, as the hot drops sank to

the cold vitals, and pricked the frozen blood. Mingling with the

privates, I stirred up some native specimens of patriotism, that

appeared to be in great doubt as to the causes and ends of the war. They

were very much in the political condition of a short, thick, sententious

man, in blue drilling breeches, who said--

"Damn the country! What's to be done with _us_?"

One person said that he enlisted for the honor of his family, that "fit

in the American Revolution;" and another came out to "hev a squint et

the fightin'." Several were northern and foreign lads, that were working

on Carolina railroads, and could not leave the section, and some labored

under the impression that they were to have a "slice" of land and a

"nigger," in the event of Southern independence. A few comprehended the

spirit of the contest, and took up arms from principle; a few, also,

declared their enmity to "Yankee institutions," and had seized the

occasion to "polish them off," and "give them a ropein' in;" but many

said it was "dull in our deestreeks, an' the niggers was runnin' away,

so I thought I'ud jine the foces." The great mass said, that they never

contemplated "this box," or "this fix," or "these suckemstances," and

all wanted the war to close, that they might return to their families.

Indeed, my romantic ideas of rebellion were ruthlessly profaned and

dissipated. I knew that there was much selfishness, peculation, and

"Hessianism" in the Federal lines, but I had imagined a lofty

patriotism, a dignified purpose, and an inflexible love of personal

liberty among the Confederates. Yet here were men who knew little of

the principles for which they staked their lives;--who enlisted from the

commonest motives of convenience, whim, pelf, adventure, and foray; and

who repented, after their first misfortune, with the salt rheum in their

eyes. I think that all "great uprisings" resolve to this complexion.

With due reverence for my own ancestry, I think that they sometimes

stooped from greatness to littleness. I must confess that certain

admissions in my revolutionary textbook are much clearer, now that I

have followed a campaign. And if, as I had proposed, I could have

witnessed the further fortunes of the illustrious Garibaldi, I think

that some of his compatriots would have been found equally inconsistent.

Let no man believe that the noblest cause is fought out alone by the

unerring motives of duty and devotion. The masses are never so constant.

They cannot appreciate an abstraction, however divine. Any of the

gentlemen in question would have preferred their biscuit and fat pork

before the political enfranchisement of the whole world!

I rode across the fields to the Hogan, Curtis, and Gaines mansions; for

some of the wounded had meantime been deposited in each of them. All the

cow-houses, wagon-sheds, hay-barracks, hen-coops, negro cabins, and

barns were turned into hospitals. The floors were littered with

"corn-shucks" and fodder; and the maimed, gashed, and dying lay

confusedly together. A few, slightly wounded, stood at windows, relating

incidents of the battle; but at the doors sentries stood with crossed

muskets, to keep out idlers and gossips. The mention of my vocation was

an "open sesame," and I went unrestrained, into all the largest

hospitals. In the first of these an amputation was being performed, and

at the door lay a little heap of human fingers, feet, legs, and arms. I

shall not soon forget the bare-armed surgeons, with bloody instruments,

that leaned over the rigid and insensible figure, while the comrades of

the subject looked horrifiedly at the scene. The grating of the

murderous saw drove me into the open air, but in the second hospital

which I visited, a wounded man had just expired, and I encountered his

body at the threshold. Within, the sickening smell of mortality was

almost insupportable, but by degrees I became accustomed to it. The

lanterns hanging around the room streamed fitfully upon the red eyes,

and half-naked figures. All were looking up, and saying, in pleading

monotone: "Is that you, doctor?" Men with their arms in slings went

restlessly up and down, smarting with fever. Those who were wounded in

the lower extremities, body, or head, lay upon their backs, tossing even

in sleep. They listened peevishly to the wind whistling through the

chinks of the barn. They followed one with their rolling eyes. They

turned away from the lantern, for it seemed to sear them. Soldiers sat

by the severely wounded, laving their sores with water. In many wounds

the balls still remained, and the discolored flesh was swollen

unnaturally. There were some who had been shot in the bowels, and now

and then they were frightfully convulsed, breaking into shrieks and

shouts. Some of them iterated a single word, as, "doctor," or "help," or

"God," or "oh!" commencing with a loud spasmodic cry, and continuing the

same word till it died away in cadence. The act of calling seemed to

lull the pain. Many were unconscious and lethargic, moving their fingers

and lips mechanically, but never more to open their eyes upon the light;

they were already going through the valley and the shadow. I think,

still, with a shudder, of the faces of those who were told mercifully

that they could not live. The unutterable agony; the plea for somebody

on whom to call; the longing eyes that poured out prayers; the looking

on mortal as if its resources were infinite; the fearful looking to the

immortal as if it were so far off, so implacable, that the dying appeal

would be in vain; the open lips, through which one could almost look at

the quaking heart below; the ghastliness of brow and tangled hair; the

closing pangs; the awful _quietus_. I thought of Parrhasius, in the

poem, as I looked at these things:--

"Gods!

Could I but paint a dying groan----."

And how the keen eye of West would have turned from the reeking cockpit

of the _Victory_, or the tomb of the Dead Man Restored, to this old

barn, peopled with horrors. I rambled in and out, learning to look at

death, studying the manifestations of pain,--quivering and sickening at

times, but plying my avocation, and jotting the names for my column of

mortalities.

At eleven o'clock there was music along the high-road, and a general

rushing from camps. The victorious regiments were returning from

Hanover, under escort, and all the bands were pealing national airs. As

they turned down the fields towards their old encampments, the several

brigades stood under arms to welcome them, and the cheers were many and

vigorous. But the solemn ambulances still followed after, and the red

flag of the hospitals flaunted bloodily in the blue midnight.

Both the prisoners and the wounded were removed between midnight and

morning to White House, and as I had despatches to forward by the

mail-boat, I rode down in an ambulance, that contained six wounded men

besides. The wounded were to be consigned to hospital boats, and

forwarded to hospitals in northern cities, and the prisoners were to be

placed in a transport, under guard, and conveyed to Fort Delaware, near

Philadelphia.

Ambulances, it may be said, incidentally, are either two-wheeled or

four-wheeled. Two-wheeled ambulances are commonly called "hop, step, and

jumps." They are so constructed that the forepart is either very high or

very low, and may be both at intervals. The wounded occupants may be

compelled to ride for hours in these carriages, with their heels

elevated above their heads, and may finally be shaken out, or have their

bones broken by the terrible jolting. The four-wheeled ambulances are

built in shelves, or compartments, but the wounded are in danger of

being smothered in them. It was in one of these latter that I rode,

sitting with the driver. We had four horses, but were thrice "swamped"

on the road, and had to take out the wounded men once, till we could

start the wheels. Two of these men were wounded in the face, one of them

having his nose completely severed, and the other having a fragment of

his jaw knocked out. A third had received a ball among the thews and

muscles behind his knee, and his whole body appeared to be paralyzed.

Two were wounded in the shoulders, and the sixth was shot in the breast,

and was believed to be injured inwardly, as he spat blood, and suffered

almost the pain of death. The ride with these men, over twenty miles of

hilly, woody country, was like one of Dante's excursions into the

Shades. In the awful stillness of the dark pines, their screams

frightened the hooting owls, and the whirring insects in the leaves and

tree-tops quieted their songs. They heard the gurgle of the rills, and

called aloud for water to quench their insatiate thirst. One of them

sang a shrill, fierce, fiendish ballad, in an interval of relief, but

plunged, at a sudden relapse, in prayers and curses. We heard them

groaning to themselves, as we sat in front, and one man, it seemed, was

quite out of his mind. These were the outward manifestations; but what

chords trembled and smarted within, we could only guess. What regrets

for good resolves unfulfilled, and remorse for years misspent, made

hideous these sore and panting hearts? The moonlight pierced through the

thick foliage of the wood, and streamed into our faces, like invitations

to a better life. But the crippled and bleeding could not see or feel

it,--buried in the shelves of the ambulance.

Campaigns of a Non-Combatant, and His Romaunt Abroad During the War · 第 10 / 32 章