He leads me in a southerly direction, takes a road toward the west, and
goes on. Suddenly he says, "You are coming over to us?"
"Yes."
"Then let me have the gun," he says.
I do not reply at once. Why does he want the gun? Is it in order to
claim that he has captured me? If so, my information will not be
believed; it may be thought intended to mislead. Then again, it is not
impossible that this man is a deserter; if that be the case, he wants to
march me back to the rebels, just as I am marching him back to the Union
army. He may be a Confederate spy. I shall not give him the gun. But I
will make him talk.
"What do you want with the gun?"
"Oh, never mind. Keep your gun; it don't make any difference," he says.
He keeps on, going more rapidly than before. We go up hill and down
hill, hardly changing direction.
Suddenly he says, without looking back at me, "Say, Johnny, what made
you quit?"
"My mind changed," I say.
He looks back at me; I can see contempt in his face. He says, "I
wouldn't say that, if I was you."
"Why not, since it is true?"
"It will do you no good."
"But why?"
"True men don't change their minds. But it's all one to me. Do as you
please."
He is right, I think. Nobody will believe me if I speak the whole truth.
I say no more. Soon we see cavalry. We walk straight to them. Their
leader speaks to my companion. "Thomas, you seem to have done a good
job. How did you happen to get him?"
"I didn't get him. He got me. He says he has come over."
"Captain," I say, "send me at once to General Meade. I have information
of extreme importance to give him."
"Well, now, my good fellow," he says, "just give it to me, if you
please."
"I am ready to give you the information," I say, "but I must make a
condition." "What is your condition?" he asks, frowning slightly.
"That you will not seek to know who I am, and that you will send me to
General Meade at once."
"It seems to me that you are making two conditions."
"Well, sir," I reply, "the first is personal, and ought not to count. If
you object to it, however, I withdraw it."
"Then, who are you?"
"I decline to say."
"Well, it makes no difference to me who you are, but I should like to
know how I am to rely on what you tell."
"Captain," I say, "we are losing valuable time. Put me on a horse, and
send me under guard to General Meade; you ride with me until I tell what
I have to tell."
"That sounds like good sense. Here, Thomas, get your horse, and another
for this man."
Two minutes pass and we are on the road. The captain says: "You see, I
am giving you an escort rather than a guard. You served Thomas; now let
him serve you. What is it you want to tell?"
"Ewell and Hill are at this moment marching around our--I mean your
flank."
"The devil you say! Infantry?"
"The whole of Ewell's corps and the whole of Hill's--six divisions."
"How do you know that? How am I to know that you are telling me the
truth?"
"I am in your hands. Question me and see if I lie in word or
countenance."
"When did Ewell begin his march?"
"I do not know."
"When did Hill march?"
"He began to move on the 8th."
"Where was he before that date?"
"In camp near Orange Court-House."
"Who commands the divisions of Hill's corps?"
"Heth, Anderson, and Wilcox."
"Which division is yours?"
"Please withdraw that question."
"With great pleasure. Where did Hill's corps camp on the night of the
8th?"
"Near the Rapidan, on the south side."
"Where did Hill camp on the night of the 9th?"
"About two miles this side of Madison Court-House."
"Where on the 10th?"
"The night of the 10th near Culpeper."
"And where on the 11th?"
"Last night Hill's corps was just south, of North Fork; only a few miles
from Jeffersonton."
"And where was Ewell's corps?"
"I know nothing of Ewell's corps, except one thing: it passed Hill's
yesterday afternoon."
"Going up?"
"No, sir; it went toward our right."
"Do you know how many divisions are under Ewell?"
"Three."
"Who commands them?"
"Early, Johnson, and Rodes."
"Where is Hill's corps to-day?"
"It began to move up the river at daybreak."
"Is that all you have of importance?"
"Yes, sir; and I know what I say. General Meade is in danger. General
Lee's movement corresponds exactly, thus far, with Jackson's march last
year around General Pope." I say this very earnestly, and continue: "You
ought to know that I am telling you the truth. A man coming into your
lines and ordering an unarmed man to take him to you, ought to be
believed."
"There is something in that," he says; "yet it would not be an
impossible method of deceiving; especially if the man were tired of
life," and he looks at me searchingly. I return his look, but say
nothing. I know that my appearance is the opposite of prepossessing. The
homeliest rebel in the South is not uglier than I am. The strain to
which I have been subjected for days and weeks, and especially for the
last forty-eight hours, must be telling fearfully upon me. Uncouth,
dirty, ragged, starved, weak through fever and strong through unnatural
excitement, there can be no wonder that the captain thinks me wild. He
may suspect that such a creature is seeking the presence of General
Meade in order to assassinate him.
"Captain," said I, "you have my arms. Search me for other weapons. Bind
my hands behind my back, and tie my feet under this horse's belly. All I
ask is to have speech with General Meade. If I am not wretchedly
mistaken, I can find men near him who will vouch for me."
"Halt!" said he. "Now, Thomas, you will continue to escort this
gentleman to headquarters. Wait there for orders, and then ride for your
life to General Gregg. Bring back the extra horse."
He wrote a note or something, and handed it to Thomas.
"Now," said he to me, "I cannot say that I trust you are telling the
truth, for the matter is too dangerous. I hope you are deceived in some
way. Good luck to you."
He put spurs to his horse and galloped west.
I had yielded my gun to Thomas. At his saddle hung a carbine, and his
holsters were not empty.
"Six paces in front of me, sir!" says Thomas.
We go on at a trot. It is now fully twelve o'clock. We are nearing the
river again. We cart hear the rumbling of railroad trains, directly in
front but far away.
The speed we are making is too slow. I dig my heels into my horse's
sides; he breaks into a gallop. "Stop!" roars Thomas. I do not stop. I
say nothing. I know he will not shoot. He threatens and storms, but
keeps his distance. At length, he makes his horse bound to my side, and
I feel his hand on my collar.
"Are you crazy?" he shouts.
I fear that he means what he says. I pull in my horse. Such, a suspicion
may ruin my plan.
After a time we began to see camps ahead. We passed through the camps.
We passed troops of all arms and wagon trains.
At last we reached headquarters. Thomas reported to an aide, giving him
the note. I was admitted, still under Thomas's guard, before the
general. He was surrounded by many officers and couriers and orderlies.
The aide approached the general, who turned and looked at me. The
general held the note in his hand.
"What is your name?" he asked."
"Jones Berwick, Jr., sir," said I.
"What brigade?"
"McGowan's."
"What state is McGowan's brigade from?"
"South Carolina."
"What division?"
"Wilcox's."
"How many brigades are in that division?"
"Four, General."
"Name them."
"Lane's, Scales's, Thomas's, and McGowan's."
"From what states?"
"Lane's and Scales's are from North Carolina. Thomas's brigade is from
Georgia."
"When, did you leave the reb--when did you leave the enemy?"
"This morning, sir, before daylight"
"You say that a movement was in progress?"
"Yes, sir."
"What?"
"General Lee's army was moving up the river, sir."
"Up what river?"
"The Hedgeman. The North Fork."
"You say the army? General Lee's army?"
"Yes, sir; all but Longstreet's corps, which has gone to Georgia."
"Did you see the other troops?"
"Yes, sir; all of the Second and the Third corps."
"Did you see both corps?"
"I was in Hill's corps, General, and Ewell's passed Hill's in the
afternoon of yesterday; Ewell's corps was many hours passing."
The officers standing about were attentive, even serious. General
Meade's face showed interest, but not grave concern.
"How can I know that you are not deceiving me?"
"I have nothing on me to prove my character, General, but there are some
officers and men in your army who would vouch, for me if they
were here."
"Who are they?"
"General Morell is one, sir."
All the officers, as well as the general, now stared at me. I saw one of
them tap his forehead.
"What are you to General Morell?" asked the commander.
"General Grover also would vouch for me, sir."
"You do not answer my question. Answer promptly, and without evasion.
What are you to General Morell?"
"Nothing now, sir. Our relations have ceased, yet I am sure that he
would know me and believe me."
"What are you to General Grover?"
"He knew me, General"
"Well, sir, neither General Morell nor General Grover is now with this
army. You have a peculiar way of calling for absent witnesses."
"I believe, General, that General Fitz-John Porter would bear me out."
"General Porter is no longer in this army."
"Then General Butterfield."
"General Butterfield is no longer in this army."
I was staggered. What I was trying to do was to avoid calling for Dr.
Khayme, who, I feared, would betray me through surprise. What had become
of all these generals? Even General McClellan, who by bare possibility
might have heard of me through General Morell, was, as I knew very well,
far from this army. Certainly the war had been hard on the general
officers of this Army of the Potomac. I would risk one more name.
"Then, General, I should be glad to see Colonel Blaisdell."
"What Colonel Blaisdell? What regiment?"
"Eleventh Massachusetts, sir."
General Meade looked at an officer. The officer shook his head slightly.
"Nor is Colonel Blaisdell here, my good fellow. Now I am going to ask
you some questions, and I think it well to advise you to answer quickly
and without many words. How do you happen to know that the colonel of
the Eleventh Massachusetts is named Blaisdell?"
I did not know what to say. If I had been with General Meade alone, I
should have confided in him at this moment--yet the idea again came that
he would have considered me a lunatic. I had to answer quickly, so I
said, "I had friends in that regiment, General."
The officers had gathered around their commander as close as etiquette
allowed. They were looking on, and listening--some of them very
serious--others with sneers."
"Name one of your friends."
"John Lawler, sir."
"What company?"
"Company D."
An officer wrote something, and an orderly went off.
"Now," said the general, "how is it that you seem to know General Grover
and General Butterfield--stop! What brigade did General Grover command?
Where was it that you knew him?"
"General, I beg of you that you will not force me to answer. The
information I bring you is true. What I might say of General Grover
would not prove me to be true. I beg to ask if Dr. Khayme, of the
Sanitary Commission, is with the army?"
"Yes," said the general, after again questioning his aide with a look.
"He will vouch for me, sir," said I.
A second orderly was sent off.
All the officers now looked grave. The general continued to question me.
I had two things to think of at once,--replies to the general, and a
plan to prevent a scene when the Doctor appeared.
"How far up the river was Lee's infantry this morning?"
"Near Jeffersonton, sir, moving on up." How could I keep the Doctor
quiet? I knew not. I could only hope that his wonderful self-control
would not even now desert him.
"How do you know they were still moving?"
"Hill's corps began to move just before day. I could hear the movement,
sir." Doctor Khayme might save me or might undo me; on his conduct
depended my peace for the future. If he should betray me, I should
henceforth be a living curiosity.
"Why did you not start yesterday, sir?" asked the general.
The question was hard. It did not seem relevant. I knew not how to
answer. I was silent.
"I asked why you did not start yesterday?"
"Start where, General?"
"For this army. Did you not know on yesterday that Lee was moving? If
you intended to be of service to us, why did you delay?"
Here was an opening.
"Circumstances were such that I could not leave yesterday, General;
besides, it was only last night that I became convinced of the nature of
General Lee's movement." I was hoping that I could give the Doctor some
signal before he should speak--before he should recognize me. I was
determined to prevent his exposing me, no matter at what personal risk.
"And how did you become convinced?" asked the general.
"It was the universal opinion of the men that convinced me, General. But
that was only additional to the circumstances of position and direction
of march."
"The men? What do the men know of such things?"
"The men I speak of, General, were all familiar with the country, from
having marched over it many times. They were in the August campaign of
last year; they said that the present movement could mean nothing except
a repetition of General Jackson's flank march of last year."
The general looked exceedingly grave. His eyes were always upon me. The
officers were very silent--motionless, except for glances one
at another.
"Were you in Lee's campaigns last year?"
"Yes, sir."
"Were you under Jackson or Longstreet?"
"I was in Jackson's corps, General."
"Did you make the march under him?"
"Yes, sir."
"And this march of Ewell and Hill seems similar to your march of last
year?"
"General, last year, on August 24th, I rejoined General Jackson's corps
at the very place where I left Hill's corps this morning. On August 25th
last year General Jackson crossed the Hedgeman River on his flank march.
Hill's corps this morning began to move toward the crossing of
the river."
"Have you seen General Lee in the last few days?"
"No, sir; but I have seen men who said they saw him."
"Do you know him when you see him?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you seen General Hill in the last few days?"
"Yes, sir--many times."
"Have you seen General Ewell?"
"I would not know General Ewell, sir."
"How, then, do you know that his corps is up the river?"
"His entire corps passed ours, sir, marching to our right."
"When?"
"Yesterday, General."
"You are sure it was Ewell's whole corps?"
"It was a great column of infantry and nineteen batteries; it took many
hours to march by us. Many of the men in the different brigades told us
they were of Ewell's corps. None of us doubted it, General."
The questions of the general continued. I thought that they were for the
purpose of testing me; their forms were various, without change of
substance.
The first orderly returned, followed closely by the second. They
reported to an aide, who then spoke in a low voice to General Meade.
Soon I saw Dr. Khayme approaching.
The Doctor looked as ever. I said hurriedly to General Meade, "General,
I beg that you let me see Dr. Khayme alone; let me go to meet him, if
but a few yards."
The general looked at his aide, then shook his head.