"MY SON! MY SON!"
On Monday morning, just as the first scattering shots of Nelson's
skirmishers were heard, Calhoun Pennington presented himself before the
Hon. G. M. Johnson, Provisional Governor of Kentucky, on whose staff he
was. When the Confederates retreated from Bowling Green Governor Johnson
accompanied the Kentucky brigade south, and although not a soldier he
had bravely fought throughout the entire battle of the day before.
The Governor and General Beauregard were engaged in earnest conversation
when Calhoun came up, and both uttered an exclamation of surprise at his
forlorn appearance. He was pale and haggard, his eyes were sunken and
his garments were dripping with water, for he had just swum the
Tennessee river.
"Great heavens! is it you, Lieutenant?" cried Johnson, and he caught
Calhoun's hand and wrung it until he winced with pain.
"It is what is left of me," answered Calhoun, with a faint smile.
"You don't know," continued Johnson, "how glad I am to see you. I had
given you up for lost, and bitterly blamed myself for allowing you to
go on your dangerous undertaking. Where have you been? What has kept you
so long?"
"First," answered Calhoun, "I must speak to General Beauregard," and,
saluting, he said: "General, I bring you heavy news. Buell has joined
Grant."
Beauregard started and turned pale. "I feared it, I feared it, when the
Federals opened the battle this morning. I was just telling the Governor
as you came up that Grant would never have assumed the offensive if he
had not been reinforced."
"Oh!" said Calhoun, "if I had only been a couple of days earlier; if you
had only attacked a couple of days sooner!"
"That was the calculation," answered Beauregard, "but the dreadful roads
retarded us. Then we did not expect Buell for two or three days yet. Our
scouts brought us information that he was to halt at least a couple of
days at Waynesborough."
"So he was," answered Calhoun, bitterly; "and he would have done so if
it had not been for that renegade Kentuckian, General Nelson. He it was
who rushed through, and made it possible for Buell to be on the field
to-day."
"Do you know how many men Buell has?" anxiously inquired Beauregard.
"Three strong divisions; I should say full 20,000."
Beauregard groaned. All visions of victory were dissolved. "I thank you,
Lieutenant, for your information, although it is the knell of defeat.
Yesterday we fought for victory; to-day I shall have to fight to save my
army." So saying he mounted his horse and galloped rapidly to the scene
of action.
"This is bad news that you bring, Lieutenant," said the Governor, after
Beauregard had gone. "But tell me about yourself; you must have been in
trouble."
"Yes, Governor, serious trouble. At first I was very successful, and
found out that Nelson expected to be in Savannah by April 5th. I was
just starting back with this important information, information which
meant victory for our cause, when I was suddenly set upon and captured
before I had time to raise a hand. I was accused of being a spy, but
there was no proof against me, the only person who could have convicted
me being a cousin, who refused to betray me; but he managed to hold me
until my knowledge could do no good."
"It looks as though the hand of God were against us," solemnly responded
Johnson. "If you had not been captured, we would surely have attacked a
day or two earlier, and a glorious victory would have awaited us. But
now----" the Governor paused, choked back something like a sob, and then
continued: "There is no use of vain regrets. See, the battle is on, and
I must once more take my place in the ranks and do my duty."
"Must do what, Governor?" asked Calhoun in surprise.
"Must fight in the ranks as a private soldier, as I did yesterday,"
replied the Governor calmly.
"I shall go with you," replied Calhoun.
So side by side the Governor and his aid fought as private soldiers, and
did yeoman service. Just before the battle closed, in repelling the last
furious charge of the Federals, Governor Johnson gave a sharp cry,
staggered, and would have fallen if he had not been caught in the arms
of Calhoun. Loving hands carried him back, but the brave spirit had fled
forever. Thus died the most distinguished private soldier that fell on
the field of Shiloh.
One of the first acts of Fred after the battle was over was to ride in
search of Robert Marsden. He found him lying in a heap of slain at the
place where the battery had been charged. A bullet had pierced the
center of the miniature flag, and it was wet with his heart's blood.
Reverently Fred removed the flag, closed the sightless eyes, and gave
orders that the body, as soon as possible, be sent to Louisville.
As he was returning from this sad duty, he thought of the errand given
him by General Nelson to hunt up the boy whom they saw capture the
colors. Riding up to the regiment, he made inquiry, and to his surprise
and delight found that the hero was Hugh Raymond.
"Hello, Hugh! don't you remember me?" asked Fred, when the boy presented
himself.
"Yes, sir," replied Hugh, respectfully. "You are the young officer who
got me released when General Nelson tied me to the cannon. I have never
ceased to feel grateful towards you."
"Well, Hugh, General Nelson wants to see you again."
Hugh opened his eyes in wonder. "Don't want to tie me up again, does
he?" he asked, with a shiver.
"I expect so. He saw you capture that flag and he is awful mad; so come
along."
"General," said Fred, when he had found Nelson, "here is the brave boy
who captured the colors."
"That was a gallant act, my boy," kindly remarked Nelson, "and you
deserve the thanks of your general."
"It was nothing, General," replied Hugh. "It just made me mad to have
them shake their dirty rag in my face, and I resolved to have it."
This answer pleased Nelson immensely. He noticed Hugh more closely, and
then suddenly asked: "Have I not seen you somewhere before, my boy?"
"Yes, General," replied Hugh, trembling.
"Where?"
"On the march here, when you tied me by the wrists to a cannon for
straggling."
Nelson was slightly taken back by the answer; then an amused look came
into his face, and he said, in a bantering tone: "Liked it, didn't you?"
"Liked it! liked it!" exclaimed Hugh, with flaming eyes. "I was just
mad enough at you to kill you."
"There is the boy for me," said Nelson, turning to his staff. "He not
only captures flags, but he tells his general to his face what he thinks
of him." Then addressing Hugh, he continued: "I want a good orderly, and
I will detail you for the position."
So Hugh Raymond became an orderly to General Nelson, and learned to love
him as much as he once hated him.
Now occurred one of those strange psychological impressions which
science has never yet explained. A feeling came to Fred that he must
ride over the battlefield. It was as if some unseen hand was pulling
him, some power exerted that he could not resist. He mounted his horse
and rode away, the course he took leading him to the place where
Trabue's Kentucky brigade made its last desperate stand.
Suddenly the prostrate figure of a Confederate officer, apparently dead,
attracted Fred's attention. As he looked a great fear clutched at his
heart, causing it to stand still. Springing from his horse, he bent over
the death-like form; then with a cry of anguish sank on his knees beside
it. He had looked into the face of his father.
[Illustration: Springing from his Horse, he bent over the death-like
form.]
"Oh! he is dead, he is dead!" he moaned.
Bending down, he placed his ear over his father's heart; a faint
fluttering could be heard.
"It beats! he lives! he lives!" he cried, joyously.
With eager eyes he searched for the wound. A ball had shattered Colonel
Shackelford's leg, and he was bleeding to death.
For Fred to cut away the clothing from around the wound, and then to
take a handkerchief and tightly twist it around the limb above the wound
was the work of a moment. The flow of blood was stopped. Tenderly was
Colonel Shackelford carried back, his weeping son walking by his side.
The surgeon carefully examined the wounded limb, and then brusquely
said: "It will have to come off."
"Oh! no, no, not that!" cried Fred, piteously.
"It's that, or his life," shortly answered the surgeon.
"Do it then," hoarsely replied Fred, as he turned away unable to bear
the cruel sight.
When Colonel Shackelford came to himself, he was lying in a state-room
in a steamboat, and was rapidly gliding down the Tennessee. Fred was
sitting by his side, watching every movement, for his father had been
hovering between life and death.
"Where am I? What has happened?" Colonel Shackelford faintly asked.
"Dear father," whispered Fred, "you have been very sick. Don't talk,"
and he gave him a soothing potion.
The colonel took it without a word, and sank into a quiet slumber. The
surgeon came in, and looking at him, said: "It is all right, captain; he
has passed the worst, and careful nursing will bring him around."
When the surgeon was gone Fred fell on his knees and poured out his soul
in gratitude that his father was to live.
When Colonel Shackelford became strong enough to hear the story, Fred
told him all; how he found him on the battlefield nearly dead from the
loss of blood; how he bound up his wound and saved his life.
"And now, father," he said, "I am taking you home--home where we can be
happy once more."
The wounded man closed his eyes and did not speak. Fred sank on his
knees beside him.
"Father," he moaned, "father, can you not forgive? Can you not take me
to your heart and love me once more?"
The father trembled; then stretching forth his feeble arm, he gently
placed his hand on the head of his boy and murmured, "My son! my son!"
and they mingled their glad tears together. In the old Kentucky home
Fred nursed his father back to health and strength.
But another sad duty remained for Fred to perform. As soon as he felt
that he could safely leave his father, he went to Louisville and placed
in Mabel Vaughn's hands the little flag, torn by the cruel bullet and
crimsoned with the heart's blood of her lover. The color fled from her
face, she tottered, and Fred thought she was going to faint, but she
recovered herself quickly, and leading him to a seat said gently: "Now
tell me all about it."
Fred told her of the dreadful charge; how Marsden, in the very front,
among the bravest of the brave, had found a soldier's death; and when he
had finished the girl raised her streaming eyes to heaven and thanked
God that he had given her such a lover.
Then standing before Fred, her beautiful face rendered still more
beautiful by her sorrow, she said:
"Robert is gone, but I still have a work to do. Hereafter I shall do
what I can to alleviate the sufferings of those who uphold the country's
flag. In memory of this," and she pressed the little blood-stained flag
to her lips, "I devote my life to this sacred object."
And binding up her broken heart, she went forth on her mission of love.
She cooled the fevered brow, she bound up the broken limb, she whispered
words of consolation into the ear of the dying, and wiped the death damp
from the marble brow. Her very presence was a benediction, and those
whose minds wandered would whisper as she passed that they had seen an
angel.
Calhoun Pennington bitterly mourned the death of his chief. He afterward
joined his fortune with John H. Morgan, and became one of that famous
raider's most daring and trusted officers.
For some weeks Fred remained at home, happy in the company and love of
his father. But their peace was rudely disturbed by the raids of Morgan,
and then by the invasion of Kentucky by the Confederate armies.
After the untimely death of Nelson, Fred became attached to the staff of
General George H. Thomas, and greatly distinguished himself in the
numerous campaigns participated in by that famous general. But he never
performed more valiant service than when he was known as "General
Nelson's Scout."
THE END.