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[Illustration: AT THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM.—PAGE 143.]
FIGHTING JOE;
Or, The Fortunes of a Staff Officer.
A Story of the Great Rebellion.
by
OLIVER OPTIC,
Author of “The Soldier Boy,” “The Sailor Boy,” “The Young Lieutenant,”
“The Yankee Middy,” “Rich and Humble,” “In School and Out,”
“Watch and Wait,” “Work and Win,” “The Riverdale
Story Books,” “The Boat Club,” etc.
Boston
Lee and Shepard Publishers
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
William T. Adams,
in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of
Massachusetts.
Copyright, 1893, by William T. Adams
-------
FIGHTING JOE
------------------------------------------------------------------------
TO
F. ORMOND J. S. BAZIN
This Book
IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED,
BY HIS FRIEND
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PREFACE.
This volume, the fifth of “THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES,” is not a
biography of the distinguished soldier whose _sobriquet_ in the army has
been chosen as its principal title, though the prominent incidents of
his military career are noticed in its pages. The writer offers his
humble tribute of admiration to the energetic and devoted general who
will be recognized under the appellation given to this work; but perhaps
the object of the volume may be better represented by the second title.
It follows Tom Somers, “The Soldier Boy” and “The Young Lieutenant,” in
his brilliant and daring career as a staff officer, through some of the
most stormy and trying scenes of the late war.
As in the volumes of the series which have preceded it, the best sources
of information upon military events have been carefully consulted; and
to the extent to which the book is properly historical, it is intended
to be faithful in its delineations. But the work is more correctly a
record of personal adventure, no more complicated, daring, and romantic
than may be found in the experience of many, who, through trial and
tribulation, through victory and defeat, have passed from the inception
to the gigantic failure of this gigantic rebellion.
More earnest than any other purpose in the production of the book, it
has been the object of the writer to exhibit a character in his hero
worthy the imitation of the boy and the man who may read it; and if it
does not inculcate a lofty patriotism, and a noble and Christian
morality, it will have failed of the highest aim of the author.
With the still stronger expression of gratitude which the increasing
favor bestowed upon previous efforts demands of me, I pass the fifth
volume of the series into the hands of my indulgent friends, hoping that
it will not fall short of their reasonable expectations.
WILLIAM T. ADAMS.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I. A FIGHTING MAN. 11
II. A SKIRMISH ON THE ROAD. 22
III. FIGHTING JOE. 33
IV. MISS MAUD HASBROUK. 44
V. THE BOOT ON ONE LEG. 55
VI. THE BOOT ON THE OTHER LEG. 66
VII. SOUTH MOUNTAIN. 77
VIII. BEFORE THE GREAT BATTLE. 88
IX. BETWEEN THE PICKETS. 98
X. MAJOR RIGGLESTON. 109
XI. SHOT IN THE HEAD. 120
XII. THE COUNCIL OF OFFICERS. 131
XIII. THE BATTLE OF ANTIETAM. 141
XIV. THE BATTLE ON THE RIGHT. 151
XV. AFTER THE BATTLE. 161
XVI. THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED. 171
XVII. DOWN IN TENNESSEE. 181
XVIII. THE GUERILLAS AT SUPPER. 191
XIX. TIPPY THE SCOUT. 202
XX. SKINLEY THE TEXAN. 213
XXI. THE HOUSE OF THE UNION MAN. 223
XXII. THE GREENBACK TRAIN. 234
XXIII. THE BATTLE IN THE CLOUDS. 244
XXIV. PEACH-TREE CREEK. 254
XXV. THE MONKEY AND THE CAT’S PAW. 264
XXVI. SUPPER FOR SEVEN. 274
XXVII. THE CAT’S PAW TOO SHARP FOR 284
THE MONKEY.
XXVIII. THE BLOOD-HOUNDS ON THE TRACK. 294
XXIX. THE PILGRIMAGE TO THE SEA. 303
XXX. MAJOR SOMERS AND FRIENDS. 314
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIGHTING JOE.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FIGHTING JOE;
OR,
THE FORTUNES OF A STAFF OFFICER.
------------------
CHAPTER I.
A FIGHTING MAN.
“WELL, Alick, I don’t know where I am,” said Captain Thomas Somers, of
the staff of the major general commanding the first army corps of the
Army of the Potomac, then on its march to repel the invasion of
Maryland, which had been attempted by the victorious rebels under
General Lee.
“Well, massa, I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Alick, his colored
servant. “If you was down ’bout Petersburg, I reckon I’d know all ’bout
it.”
“We must find out very soon,” added Captain Somers, as he reined in his
horse at a point where two roads branched off, one to the north-west and
the other to the south-west.
“Day ain’t no house ’bout here, massa.”
“I don’t want to lose my way, for I have no time to spare.”
“Dar’s somebody comin’ up behind, massa,” said Alick, who first heard
the sounds of horses’ feet approaching in the direction from which they
had just come.
Captain Somers, after receiving the agreeable intelligence of his
appointment on the staff of the general, in whose division he had served
on the Peninsula, hastened to Washington to report for duty. He had
hardly time to visit his friends, and was obliged to content himself
with a short call on Miss Lilian Ashford, though he had an invitation to
spend the evening with the family, extended for the purpose of enabling
the young gentleman to cultivate an acquaintance with the beautiful
girl’s grandmother!
Lilian’s father’s mother was certainly a very estimable old lady, and
her granddaughter loved and reverenced her with a fervor which was
almost enthusiastic. It was quite natural, therefore, that she should
wish Captain Somers,—for whom she had knit a pair of socks, which had
been no small portion of his inspiration in the hour of battle, and for
whom she had contracted a friendship,—it was quite natural that she
should wish to have the captain well acquainted with her grandmother.
She loved the old lady herself, and of course so brave, handsome, and
loyal a person as her friend had proved to be, must share her reverence
and respect. Besides, the venerable woman remembered all about the last
war with Great Britain. Her husband had been one of the firemen sent out
with axes to cut away the bridges which connect Boston with the
surrounding country, when an invasion of the town was expected. She
could tell a good story, and as Somers was a military man, it was highly
important that he should know all about the dreaded invasion which did
not take place.
Captain Somers was obliged to deprive himself of the pleasure of
listening to the old lady’s history of those stirring events, for more
exciting ones were in progress on the very day of which we write. He was
sorry, for he anticipated a great deal of pleasure from the visit,
though whether he expected to derive the whole of it from the presence
of the grandmother, we are not informed; and it would be wicked to pry
too deeply into the secrets of the young man’s heart. We are not quite
sure that Lilian was entirely unselfish when she described what a rich
treat the old lady’s narrative would be; but we are certain that she was
entirely sincere, and that it was quite proper to offer some extra
inducement to secure the gallant captain’s attendance.
The captain did not need any extraordinary inducements, beyond the
presence of the fair Lilian herself. We even believe that he would have
cheerfully spent the evening at No. — Rutland Street, if there had been
no one but herself to give him a welcome, and aid him in passing away
the hours. Nothing but a high sense of duty could have led him to break
the engagement. The rebel hordes, victorious before Washington, and
elated by the signal successes they had won, were pouring into Maryland,
menacing Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia. It was a time which
tried the souls of patriotic men—a time when no man who loved his
country could rest in peace while there was a work which his hands could
do.
The young staff officer called upon the lady and stated his situation.
She blushed, as she always did in his presence, and gave him a God-speed
on his patriotic mission. She hoped he would not be killed, or even
wounded; that his feeble health would be restored; and that God would
bless him as he went forth to do battle for his treason-ridden land. She
was pale when he took her hand at parting; her bosom heaved with
emotions, to which Somers found a response in his own heart, but which
he could not explain.
He went to Washington; but the gallant army, still suffering from the
pangs of recent defeat, but yet strong in the cause they had espoused,
had marched to the scene of new battles. Somers had already provided
himself with his staff uniform, and he remained in Washington only long
enough to purchase two horses, one of which he mounted himself, while
Alick rode the other, and started for the advance of the army. The roads
were so cumbered with artillery trains and baggage wagons that his
progress was very slow, and the corps to which he now belonged was
several days in advance of him. By the advice of a general officer, he
had made a détour from the direct road, and passed through a
comparatively quiet country.
The rebels were at Frederick City, and their cavalry, in large and small
bodies, was scattered all over the region, gathering supplies for the
half starved, half clothed men of Lee’s army. Thus far Somers had met
none of these marauders, nor any of the guerillas, who, without a
license from either side, were plundering soldiers and civilians who
could offer no resistance. Somers had ridden as rapidly as his feeble
state of health would permit; but his enthusiasm had urged him forward
until his horse was more in danger of giving out than the rider. But
when he reached the cross-roads, at which we find him, doubtful about
the right way, he had slept the preceding night at a farm-house, and
horse and rider were now in excellent condition.
“Are your pistols ready for use, Alick?” asked Somers, as he heard the
sounds of the horses’ feet.
“Yes, sar; always keep the pistols ready. But what you gwine to do wid
pistols here?” replied the servant, as he took his weapon from his
pocket.
“The country is full of rebels and guerillas; they may want our horses,
and perhaps ourselves. I can’t spare my coat and boots very well at
present.”
“Guess not, massa,” laughed Alick, as he examined the lock of his
pistol.
“I have never seen you in a fight, Alick. Do you think you can stand up
to it?”
“Well, massa. I don’t want to say much about that, but I reckon I won’t
run away no faster’n you do.”
“If I get into trouble with these ruffians, I shall want to know whether
I can depend on you, or not.”
“Golly, massa! You can depend on me till the cows come home!” exclaimed
Alick. “I doesn’t like to say much about it, but if these yere hossmen
wants to fight, I’m not the chile to run away.”
“They don’t look much like rebels or guerillas,” added Somers, as he
obtained his first view of the approaching horsemen. “But you can’t tell
much by the looks in these times, for the villains have robbed us till
half of them wear our own colors. Those people certainly wear the
uniform of our army.”
“Dar’s only two of ’em, massa. I reckon they don’t want to fight much.”
“I only wished to be cautious; very likely they are loyal and true men,”
replied Somers, as the strangers came too near to permit any further
remarks in regard to their probable character.
Both the travellers were evidently officers of the army, though, as
Somers had suggested, it was impossible to tell what anybody was by the
looks, or even if he was seen to take the oath of allegiance. As they
came round a bend of the road, and discovered the captain and his
servant, they reined up their steeds, and seemed to be disturbed by the
same doubts which had troubled the first party. But they advanced, after
a cautious survey, and each of them touched his cap, when they came
within speaking distance. Somers politely returned the salute, and moved
his horse towards them.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” said he. “Can you inform me which is the road
to Frederick City?”
“The left, sir. If you are going in that direction, we shall be glad of
your company,” replied one of the officers.
“Thank you; I shall be glad to go with you.”
“I see by your uniform that you belong on the staff,” added the officer
who had done the talking.
“Yes, sir;” and Somers, without reserve, informed him who and what he
was.
“Somers!” exclaimed the stranger. “I have heard of you before. Perhaps
you remember one Dr. Scoville, of Petersburg?”
“Perfectly,” laughed Somers.
“Well, sir, he is an uncle of mine.”
“Indeed? I took you to be an officer of the United States army.”
“So I am; but my father married a sister of Dr. Scoville.”
“Dr. Scoville is a very good sort of man, but he is an awful rebel. I
suppose he bears no good will towards me and my friend Major de Banyan.”
“Perhaps not; but the affair was a capital joke on the doctor. And since
he is a rebel, and a very pestilent one too, I enjoyed it quite as much
as you did.”
“I feel very grateful to him for what he did for me. I went into his
house without an invitation; he dressed my wound, and nearly cured me.
When the soldiers came upon us, he promised to give us up at the proper
time, and pledged himself for our safety. We left him, one day, rather
shabbily, I confess; but we had no taste for a rebel prison, for the
rebs don’t always manage their prisons very well.”
“I have heard the whole story. It’s rich. If you please, we will move
on.”
“With all my heart, major,” replied Somers, who read his rank from his
shoulder-straps.
“I am Major Riggleston, of the —nd Maryland Home Brigade, on detached
duty, just now.”
“I am glad to know you, Major Riggleston, especially as you are a
relative of my friend Dr. Scoville, and on the right side.”
“This is Captain Barkwood, of the regulars.”
Somers saluted the quiet gentleman, who had hardly spoken during the
interview. Major Riggleston was dressed in an entirely new uniform, and
rode a splendid horse, which led Somers to believe that he belonged to
one of the wealthy and aristocratic families of the state which so
tardily embraced the cause of the Union. On the other hand, Captain
Barkwood looked as though he had seen hard service; for his uniform was
rusty, and his face was bronzed by exposure beneath the fervid sun of
the south.
The party were excellently well acquainted with each other before they
had ridden a mile. After the topics suggested by the first meeting had
been exhausted, Somers mentioned his fear of the guerillas and rebel
marauders, who kept a little way in advance of the invading army. The
travellers were now farther north than Frederick, and some distance from
the advancing line of the Union army. The road they had chosen was not
one of the great thoroughfares of the state; consequently it was but
little frequented.
“I don’t object to meeting a small party of guerillas,” said Major
Riggleston; “for, gentlemen, if you are of the same mind that I am, we
should show them the quality of true Union steel.”
“I hope we shall not meet any; but if we do, I am in no humor to lose my
horse or my boots,” replied Somers. “But we may meet so many of them
that it would be better to trust to our horses’ heels than to the
quality of our steel.”
“True—too many would not be agreeable; but, say a dozen or twenty of
them. We could whip that number without difficulty. The fact is,
gentlemen, I am a fighting man. There has been too much of this looking
at the enemy, and then running away. I repeat, gentlemen, I am a
fighting man.”
“I am glad to hear it, and glad to have met you, for I am told there are
a good many of these small plundering parties loose about this region;
and I would rather fight than lose my boots,” laughed Somers.
“Three of us can do a good thing,” added the major.
“Four,” suggested Somers.
“Four?”
“My man can fight.”
“But he is a nigger; niggers won’t fight.”
“He will. By the way, he came from your uncle’s, at Petersburg.”
“Alick!” exclaimed the major, glancing back at the servant.
He did not seem to be well pleased to discover one of his uncle’s
contrabands at this distance from home; for, with many other chivalrous
southrons, he believed it would be a good thing to preserve the Union,
if slavery could be preserved with it. He spoke a few words to Alick,
but did not seem to enjoy the interview.
“Yes, we can whip at least twenty of the villains,” added the major, as
he resumed his place between Somers and Captain Barkwood. “What do you
think?” he continued, turning to the regular.
“I hope we shall not meet any. I am a coward by nature. I would rather
run than fight, any time,” replied the captain. “Of all things I dislike
these small skirmishes, these hand-to-hand fights.”
“I like them; I’m a fighting man,” said the major.
“I’m afraid you will have a chance to test your mettle,” said Somers.
“Those fellows are guerillas, if I mistake not,” added he, pointing to
half a dozen horsemen who were approaching them.
------------------------------------------------------------------------