"Why, then, let's on our way in silent sort."--SHAKESPEARE.
Lydia was kept busy in the hospital; her evenings, however, were spent
with her father.
Before the Army of the Potomac began to arrive, I had recovered all my
old vigour, and had become restless through inaction. Nobody could say
when the Eleventh would come. The troops, as they landed, found roomy
locations for their camps, for the rebels were far off at Yorktown, and
with only flying parties of cavalry patrolling the country up to our
pickets. I had no duty to do; but for the Doctor's company time would
have been heavy on my hands.
About the last of March the army had reached Newport News, but no
Eleventh. What to do with myself? The Doctor would not move his camp
until the eve of battle, and he expressed the opinion that there would
be no general engagement until we advanced much nearer to Richmond.
On the 2d of April, at supper, I told Dr. Khayme that I was willing to
serve in the ranks of any company until the Eleventh should come.
"General McClellan has come, and your regiment will come in a few days,"
he replied; "and I doubt if anybody would want you; the troops now here
are more than are needed, except for future work. Besides, you might do
better. You have good eyes, and a good memory as long as it lasts; you
might make a secret examination of the Confederate lines."
"A what? Oh, you mean by myself?"
"Yes."
"Do you think it practicable?" I asked.
"Should I have suggested it if I do not?"
"Pardon me, Doctor; but you were so sudden."
"Well, think of it," said he.
"Doctor, if you'll put me in the way to do it, I'll try it!" I
exclaimed, for, somehow, such work had always fascinated me. I did not
wish to become a spy, or to act as one for a day even, but I liked the
thought of creeping through woods and swamps and learning the positions
and movements of the enemy. In Charleston, in my school days, and
afterward, I had read Gilmore Simms's scouting stories with, eagerness,
and had worshipped his Witherspoon.
"When will you wish to begin?" asked the Doctor.
"Just as soon as possible; this idleness is wearing; to-day, if
possible."
"I cannot let you go before to-morrow," said he; "I must try to send you
off properly."
When Lydia came in that night, and was told of our purposes by the
Doctor, I fancied that she became more serious instantly. But she said
little, and I could only infer that she might be creating in her brain
false dangers for a friend.
By the next afternoon, which, was the 3d of April, everything was ready
for me. The Doctor showed me in his stores-tent a sober suit of gray
clothes, not military clothes, but of a cut that might deceive the eye
at a distance, yet when closer seen would exonerate the wearer from any
suspicion that he was seriously offering himself as a Confederate.
"Now, I had to guess at it," said the Doctor; "but I think it will fit
you well enough."
It did fit well enough; it was loose and comfortable, and, purposely,
had been soiled somewhat after making. The Doctor gave me also a
black felt hat.
"Have you studied the map I gave you?" he asked.
"Yes, I can remember the roads and streams thoroughly," I answered.
"Then do not take it; all you want is a knife and a few trivial things
such as keys in your pocket, so that if you should be searched nothing
can be proved. Leave all your money in bills behind; coin will not be
bad to take; here are a few Confederate notes for you."
"Do I need a pass?"
"Yes; here is a paper that may hang you if you are caught by the
Confederates; use it to go through your lines, and then destroy it; I
want you to get back again. If you should be captured, a pass would
betray you; if your men got you and will not let you go, it will not be
difficult to explain at headquarters."
"I suppose you have already explained at headquarters?"
"Don't ask questions. Now you must sit down and eat; you don't know when
you will get another meal."
At dusk I started. My purpose was to avoid our own pickets and reach
before dawn a point opposite the right of the rebel line, which was
believed to rest on James River, near or at Mulberry Island, or Mulberry
Point; I would then watch for opportunities, and act accordingly, with
the view of following up the rebel line, or as near to it as possible.
I took no gun or anything whatever to burden me. I was soon outside the
guard line of the camp. My way at first was almost due north by the
Young's Mill road. Darkness quickly came, and I was glad of it. The
stars gave me enough light. My road was good, level, sandy--a lane
between two rail fences almost hidden with vines and briers. At my left
and behind me I could hear the roar of the surf.
When I had gone some two miles, I thought I heard noises ahead, I
stopped, and put my ear to the ground. Cavalry. Were they our men, or
rebels? I did not want to be seen by either. I slipped into a fence
corner. A squad rode by, going toward Hampton, no doubt. I waited until
they had passed out of sight, and then rose to continue my tramp, when
suddenly, before I had made a step, another horseman rode by, following
the others. If he had looked in my direction, he would have seen me; but
he passed on with his head straight to the front. I supposed that this
last man was on duty as the rear of the squad.
Now I tore up my pass into little bits and tossed them away. The party
of cavalry which, had passed me, I believed, were our patrol, and that I
should find no more of our men; so I was now extremely cautious in going
forward, not knowing how soon I might run against some scouting party of
the rebels.
The road soon diverged far from the shore; the ground was sandy and
mostly level; and in many places covered with, a thick, small growth.
The imperfect light gave me no extended vision, but from studying the
map before I had set out I had some idea of the general character of the
country at my right, as well as a pretty accurate notion of the distance
I must make before I should come near to the first rebel post; though,
of course, I could not know that such post had not been abandoned, or
advanced even, within the last few hours.
I went on, then, keeping a sharp lookout to right and left and straight
ahead, and every now and then stopping to listen. My senses were alert;
I thought of nothing but my present purposes; I felt that I was alone
and dependent upon myself, but the feeling was not greatly oppressive.
Having gone some four or five miles, I saw before me a fence running at
a right angle to the road I was on; this fence was not continued to the
left of my road, so I supposed that at this fence was the junction of
the road to Little Bethel, and as I had clearly seen before I started
that at this junction there was danger of finding a rebel outpost, or of
falling upon a rebel scouting party, I now became still more cautious,
moving along half bent on the edge of the road, and at last creeping on
my hands and knees until I reached the junction.
There was nobody in sight. I looked long up the road toward Little
Bethel; I went a hundred yards or so up this road, found nothing, and
returned to the junction; then continued up the road toward Young's
Mill. The ground here I knew must be visited frequently by the rebels,
and my attention became so fixed that I started at the slightest noise.
The sand's crunching under my feet sounded like the puffing of a
locomotive. The wind made a slight rippling with the ends of the tie on
my hat-band, I cut the ends off, to be relieved of the distraction.
I was going at the rate of a mile a day, attending to my rear as well as
to my advance, when I heard, seemingly in the road to Bethel, at my rear
and right, the sound of stamping hoofs. I slunk into a fence corner, and
lay perfectly still, listening with all my ears. The noise increased; it
was clear that horsemen from the Bethel road were coming into the
junction, a hundred yards in my rear.
The noises ceased. The horsemen had come to a halt.
But _had_ they come to a halt? Perhaps they had ridden down the road
toward Newport News.
Five minutes, that seemed an hour, passed; then I heard the hoof-beats
of advancing cavalry, and all at once a man darted into my fence corner
and lay flat and still.
It is said that at some moments of life, and particularly when life is
about to end, as in drowning, a man recalls in an instant all the deeds
of his past. This may or may not be true; but I know, at least, that my
mind had many thoughts in the situation in which I now found myself.