"Do you mean," he repeated, "the material soil? Do you mean the people
of the United States, including those of the seceded States? Do you mean
the idea symbolized by everything that constitutes American
civilization? However, let us not speak of these difficult matters now.
We must get your friend Willis to the hospital and then arrange for
your comfort."
"I thank you, Doctor; but first be so good as to relieve my devouring
curiosity: tell me by what marvellous chance you were on the
battlefield."
"No chance at all, Jones; you know that I have always told you there is
no such thing as chance, I went to the field deliberately, as an agent
of the United States Sanitary Commission."
"I thought that you were far from this country, and that you felt no
interest in us," said I. "My father and I were in Charleston in
'fifty-eight,' and were told that you were in Europe. And then, too, how
could you know that I was on such a part of the battlefield, and that
Willis was hurt and that I was with him?"
"All that is very simple," said he; "as to being in Europe, and
afterward getting to America, that is not more strange than being in
America and afterward getting to Europe; however, let us defer all talk
of Europe and America. As to knowing that you were with Sergeant Willis,
and that he was wounded, that is simple; some men of your regiment gave
me that information."
I did not reply to the Doctor, but sat looking at the miscellaneous file
of persons, carriages, ambulances, and all else that was now blocked on
the bridge,
At length I said: "I cannot understand how you could so easily find the
place where I left Sergeant Willis. It was more than a mile from the
spot where I met you; the night was dark, and I am certain that I could
not have found the place."
"Of course you could not," he replied; "but it was comparatively easy
for me; I had passed and repassed the place, for I worked all day to
help the disabled--- and Reed was employed for the reason that he knows
every nook and corner of that part of the country."
After crossing the bridge, Reed drove quickly to the Columbia College
Hospital, where we left Sergeant Willis, but not before learning that
his wound was not difficult.
"Now," said the Doctor, "you are my guest for a few days. I will see to
it that you are excused from duty for a week. It may take that time to
set you right, especially as I can see that you have some traces of
nervous fever. I am going to take steps to prevent your becoming ill."
"How can you explain my absence, Doctor?"
"Well," said he, "in the first place there is as yet nobody authorized
to receive an explanation. To-day our time is our own; by to-morrow all
the routed troops will be in or near Washington; then I shall simply
write a note, if you insist upon it, to the commanding officer of your
company, explaining Willis's absence and your connection with his case,
and take on myself the responsibility for your return to your command."
"Has the Sanitary Commission such credit that your note will be
accepted as a guaranty, in good form, for my return?"
"The circumstances in this case are peculiar," said the Doctor; "some of
your men will not report to their commands for a week. You will be ready
for your company before your company is ready for you."
"That is true enough, Doctor; but I should wish to observe all military
requirement."
He left me for a while and returned with a piece of paper in his hand.
"Well, what do you think of this?"
It was a surgeon's commitment of Private Jones Berwick, company and
regiment given, into the hands of the Sanitary Commission for ten days.
I could say no more, except to speak my gratitude for his kindness.
"I am sorry," said Dr. Khayme, "to be unable to offer you the best of
quarters. The Commission has so recently been organized that we have not
yet succeeded in getting thorough order into our affairs; in fact, my
work yesterday was rather the work of a volunteer than the work of the
Commission. Our tents are now beyond Georgetown Heights; in a few days
we shall move our camps, and shall increase our comfort."
The ambulance was driven through some of the principal streets. The
sidewalks and carriageways were crowded; civilians and soldiers; wagons,
guns, caissons, ambulances; companies, spick-and-span, which, had not
yet seen service; ones, twos, threes, squads of men who had escaped from
the disaster of the 21st, unarmed, many of them, without
knapsacks, haggard.
At the corners of the streets were rude improvised tables behind which
stood men and women serving food and drink to the famished fugitives.
The rain fell steadily, a thick drizzle. Civilians looked their anxiety.
A general officer rode by, surrounded by the remnant of his staff, heads
bent down, gloomy. Women wept while serving the hungry. The unfinished
dome of the Capitol, hardly seen through the rain, loomed ominous.
Depression over all: ambulances full of wounded men, tossing and
groaning; fagged-out horses, vehicles splashed with mud; policemen
dazed, idle; newsboys crying their merchandise; readers eagerly
reading--not to know the result to the army, but the fate of some loved
one; stores closed; whispers; doom.
I turned to Dr. Khayme; he smiled. Then he made Reed halt; he got out of
the ambulance and went to one of the tables. A woman gave him coffee,
which he brought to me, and made me drink. He returned to the table and
gave back the cup. The woman looked toward the ambulance. She was a tall
young woman, serious, dignified. She impressed me.
We drove past Georgetown Heights. There, amongst the trees, were four
wall-tents in a row; one of them was of double length. The ambulance
stopped; we got out. The Doctor led the way into one of the tents; he
pointed to one of two camp-beds. "That is yours," said he; "go to sleep;
you shall not be disturbed."
"I don't think I can sleep, Doctor."
"Why not?"
"My mind will not let me."
"Well, try," said he; "I will peep in shortly and see how you are
getting on."
I undressed, and bathed my face. Then I lay down on the bed, pulling a
sheet over me. I turned my face to the wall.
I shut my eyes, but not my vision. I saw Ricketts's battery--the First
Michigan charge;--the Black-Horse cavalry ride from the woods. I saw the
rebel cannons through dust and smoke;--a poplar log in a thicket;--a
purple wound--wet clay;--a broken rifle;--stacks of straw.
Oh, the gloom and the shame! What does the future hold for me? for the
cause? What is to defend Washington?
Then I thought of my father; I had not written to him; he would be
anxious. My eyes opened; I turned to rise; Dr. Khayme entered; I rose.
"You do not sleep readily?" he asked.
"I cannot sleep at all," I said; "besides I have been so overwhelmed by
this great calamity that I had not thought of telegraphing to my father.
Can you get a messenger here?"
"Oh, my boy, I have already provided for your father's knowing that you
are safe."
"You?"
"Yes, certainly. He knows already that you are unhurt; go to sleep; by
the time you awake I promise you a telegram from your father."
"Doctor, you are an angel; but I don't believe that I can sleep."
"Let me feel your pulse."
Dr. Khayme placed his fingers on my wrist; I was sitting on the side of
the bed.
"Lie down," said he. Then, still with his fingers on my pulse, he said
softly, "Poor boy! you have endured too much; no wonder that you are
wrought up."
He laid his other hand on my head; his fingers strayed through my hair.
V