steadily had kept at it--ploying into column, deploying again into
line, and varying things by an occasional march, in company front,
around the great hall. But there comes an end to all things, even to
a two hours' tramp over an unyielding floor, and at last the bugler,
standing beneath the crowded spectators' gallery, puckered his lips,
puffed out his cheeks, and blew the welcome bars of "Recall"--the
signal that it was ten o'clock and time to wind up the evening's
drill. One by one the companies filed out through the broad doorway,
and as the last man passed over the threshold--even while the closing
notes of the bugle-call still faintly rang among the arching trusses
of the vaulted roof--the waiting armorer pressed down the lever which,
at a single touch, extinguished the lights in the double row of
chandeliers, and left the drill-hall to silence and darkness.
But if all was dark and still in the hall below, upstairs the state of
affairs was in lively contrast, for in the company quarters there was
light in plenty and the hum of many voices, while presently a yell of
laughter from "K's" rooms, followed by a responsive roar from "A's"
corner, across the corridor, seemed to show that the manoeuvres
of the evening had not brought the men to the point of complete
exhaustion.
About the adjutant's desk, in the staff-room, a knot of officers had
gathered to talk over the night's work, and speculate upon the weather
of the morrow, for it was the night before Memorial Day, and the four
companies detailed for escort duty in the coming parade had been going
through a battalion drill, "To get shaken into shape for exhibition
purposes," as the major put it.
"The boys measured off a good step to-night: thirty elegant inches,
within an eighth," said the adjutant, footing up the last column
of the drill report, and then gracing it with his undecipherable
signature. "Yes, they stretched it out in gorgeous style, and the
last time they came 'round the hall the company wheels were just as
pretty as any you ever saw on a little, red wagon." This was in the
days when Upton yet was law in the land; before the "new regulations"
had come to vex the souls of company commanders.
"That's all well enough," remarked the major who was to command the
battalion next day; "but, after all, we're at the mercy of whatever
band we catch. It was a mistake to let ours go out of town for
to-morrow."
"It _was_ so," assented the adjutant, shoving a handful of documents
into the pigeon-hole labelled "Papers awaiting action," and then,
rising from his desk, "Do you know what band's been assigned?"
"Haven't heard," replied the major, with a yawn. "_I_ wouldn't ask
for any better marching music than the article the drum-corps deals
out. The boys swing along like machines, when they have the old tunes
to set 'em going;" and he began, to whistle "The British Grenadier,"
drumming with his fingers an accompaniment to the inspiring, old
refrain, but stopping when the sergeant-major entered and said, "The
colonel presents his compliments, and wishes the field and staff to
report to him in his room."
"Come along, fellows," said the major, buttoning up his fatigue
jacket. "This means an expedition against The Battery," and with this
safe prediction he led the way along the corridor towards the door
which bore upon its oaken panel the words "Colonel, Third Infantry."
"Come in," sang out the colonel, as the group of officers reached his
door, "come in for a minute. I need your advice. Only _four_ of you?
Why, where's 'Pay'?"
The major replied, "He's escaped, sir, but those of us who are left
are very much at your service--and full of advice."
"No doubt of it," laughed the colonel; "I've not the slightest doubt
of it. That's where the officer of volunteers never is found lacking.
I've yet to meet the one who's not prepared to give advice on any
matter, and at a minute's notice, too. Well, now for that same advice:
do you counsel an immediate and early scattering, or a brief visit
to the dominions of Sam? Weigh your words, for I've determined to be
guided to-night by the wishes of the majority."
"I haven't attained a 'majority'--as yet, sir," said the adjutant,
speaking rapidly and beginning to unbuckle his belt; "but with due
deference to my seniors, I would state that the evening has been
long, warm, and very arid; enough so to reduce some of us--_one_ I
can swear to--to a state bordering upon collapse. I therefore most
respectfully would suggest that The Battery be converted temporarily
into a field-hospital, and that Major Sawin, surgeon, Third Infantry,
be ordered to proceed thither without delay, to make provision for
such patients as later may report to him for treatment."
"Listen to the boy!" said the colonel, as the adjutant paused for
lack of breath. "And nobody has any better advice to offer?" he went
on. "Well, Bones, you heard? Trot along--you're not in uniform--and
start Sam on a bowl of claret-cup. The rest of us will join you in ten
minutes."
"I think _I'll_ do the compounding," said the surgeon, mentally
recalling a formula of his earlier days, "and if the results aren't
satisfactory--why, I'll resign and give Wilder his step;" and
he turned towards the door, pausing to remark, "Don't overheat
yourselves by hurrying, for I'm going to take my time in getting
there."
The ten minutes had stretched well along towards twenty, when an
uneven trampling of feet upon The Battery's stairs warned the waiting
surgeon that his patients were at hand. He had employed his time to
good purpose, however, and in the arrangement of his "field-hospital"
there lacked nothing which long experience could suggest.
Before the wide dormer-window--in which every sash had been thrown
open to catch whatever of breeze might stray that way--stood a round
table, bearing a huge glass pitcher, filled to the brim with crimson
claret-cup, and beaded with the dew of its icy contents. Five heavy
chairs were ranged near at hand, and to each a glass was allotted,
while beside every glass lay a newly filled pipe, ready for the
lighting. Save one shaded lamp, all the lights were out, to give
full play to the bright moonlight which came slanting in through the
casement, tracing curious patterns of light and shadow upon the floor
and walls. All looked cool and restful, and the surgeon gave just one
more satisfied glance at his preparations before turning to receive
his wearied brothers-in-arms.
"This way to the operating-table," he called out, as the door was
flung open. "The instruments are ready, and the surgeon is waiting. I
shall make no diagnosis in individual cases--since it is apparent that
your ailment has reached the proportions of an epidemic--but shall
treat you collectively."
"Bones, you deserve to be thanked 'in orders,'" said the colonel
impressively, after a comprehensive survey of the surroundings. "Sit
down, all--and Charley, you man the pitcher."
"I chose a pitcher in preference to a bowl," explained the beaming
doctor, waving his hand in the direction of that seductive-looking
vessel, "because the effect upon the eye is so much more pleasing. I
tell you, the careful practitioner has to watch out for even the most
trifling details."
A clatter of chairs followed this remark, succeeded by the musical
tinkle of ice, as the adjutant filled the glasses. Then came a moment
of refreshing silence; and finally five grateful men set down their
empty tumblers with a universal, long-drawn sigh of comfort and
supreme content.
"Wilder will not get his step _this_ time," said the colonel, holding
his glass in readiness for refilling, "for your reputation, Bones, is
saved."
"Your appreciation touches me," replied the surgeon, leaning forward
to possess himself of a pipe, an example followed by the others. One
after another the matches cracked and flamed, until five corn-cobs
glowed soothingly in the dim, half-light of the quiet room, sending a
pale cloud of fragrant smoke adrift across the moonbeams, to twist and
circle in the fitful current of air from the open casement.
"With the brigade band, which you'll have to-morrow," observed the
colonel, between puffs, to the major, "you ought to go 'swinging on
the old, old gait.'"
"So it's to be the brigade band?" said the major. "Good enough! Just
before we left the armory we were discussing our chances on music."
"Well, music is rather important," returned the colonel, "for a good
band can put life into the lamest column. I once even knew a band to
put life into a dead man, too. Fact!"
"Extraordinary!" murmured the major. "I've heard plenty of bands bad
enough to strike a man dead, but I never happened to discover one that
seemed quite up to the resurrection pitch. Perhaps, Colonel, you'll
tell us about it?"
"I'm blessed if I don't," was the colonel's reply to this suggestion,
"if for nothing else than punishment for the doubt implied in your
tone."
"Thank you, sir," said the major politely, bestowing his lazy length
upon the cushions of the window-seat, where he settled himself in all
comfort. "It's a good long time since we've had a yarn from you, and
I'm pleased to learn that we're in a fair way to get you started."
This judicious remark was not without its effect, for the chief pulled
the major's empty chair handily near, gently deposited his feet upon
it, and observed, "Well, if I've told you this incident at all, I'm
sure it hasn't been within a year, so it will be as good as new." Then
he turned his head and called, "Sam, come and put out that lamp,"
adding, "Moonlight's good enough for story-telling--and somehow
lamplight makes a discord on a night like this."
"Got ev'rythin' handy, Cun'l?" inquired Sam, as the flame flickered
and went out.
"Yes, everything except _you_," responded the commanding officer.
"Pull up a chair, Sam, and kindle your disreputable old briarwood; for
I'm going to yarn about a shindy in which your battery trumped the
winning trick, and I shall need your corroborative testimony."
Sam brought a chair, seated himself with proper deliberation, and
added his contribution to the ever-thickening cloud of smoke; those
whose glasses stood in need of refilling took the precautions
necessary to avert a drought; and the colonel, fixing his eyes upon
the cloudless sky without, began:
"Back in '64--a matter of a fortnight or so before that little
affair at Three Mile Creek, where you, Sam, got scraped across the
wrist, and won that medal of yours--the 'Old Regiment' found itself
at a most forsaken sort of place which was going to ruin under the
name of Ashford Four Corners. Why we had been dumped down in that
particular spot we neither knew nor greatly cared, for we had reached
a point in soldierly indifference which enabled us to take our billet
unquestioningly, though not always uncomplainingly. Even old Burleigh,
our colonel, hadn't a very definite conception of our exact errand,
for he told us that we had been ordered to sit down, keep our eyes
open, and stay there until we were sent for,--an order which, at the
time, seemed easy of execution, though rather purposeless.
"With all due pomp and circumstance we marched into and through
Ashford Four Corners, and took up a position about half a mile beyond
the straggling collection of tumble-down buildings composing that
metropolis; and there we prepared to 'sit down,' as _per_ orders, and
'keep our eyes open' to see that nothing came along over a sandy road
running off, in a southeasterly direction, into the dense woods in our
front."
"Wal, 'twarnt sich a bad idee, havin' ye thar," observed Sam, between
puffs, "an' I guess ye seen th' reason for't, finally."
"Oh, yes, the reason made itself unpleasantly obvious later," assented
the colonel; "but along at the first we were rather pleased at being
sent off and--as we thought--side-tracked, for we hadn't the slightest
expectation of seeing or hearing anything from the enemy. No, we
certainly weren't grumbling much over the detail, for we'd had a hot
and trying time of it for ten days hand-running, and the prospect of
even a few hours of rest and quiet seemed attractive.
"But though we weren't looking for trouble, we'd 'been in the
business' too long to take anything for granted, and so we had a turn
at pick-and-shovel drill, and threw up a very workmanlike line of
breastworks, neatly topped-off with logs; and after the earth had been
heaped up and patted down we surveyed the result of our labors, called
it good, and waited patiently to see if anybody would blunder along
that way to help us in a house-warming.
"In billiards 'position is everything,'" the colonel observed,
after a short pause to obtain necessary restoratives, "and the same
rule applies in war. Our position, as we lay at ease in our hastily
constructed works, was fairly good. If I had the blackboard here I
could show you, in ten strokes of the chalk, just how the land lay;
but the blackboard isn't here, and, moreover, I should be too lazy to
lift the chalk if it _were_ here; and therefore I'll state that our
line was established across the tapering end of a fan-shaped clearing,
and in such a manner that both flanks were protected by dense woods,
while on our left an impenetrable swamp afforded us additional
security. The open ground in our front stretched away for a distance
of about five hundred yards, ending at the edge of the unbroken
forest. Do I make clear the situation?"
"Perfectly, sir," said the adjutant, rattling the ice in the pitcher,
by way of serving notice that he stood ready to fill any or all
depleted glasses.
"'Twas a good 'nough lay-out for inf'ntry," commented Sam, "but thar
warn't quite th' right slope t' git th' best work out o' guns."
"I daresay not," said the colonel, in reply to this bit of criticism,
"but your guns were able to accomplish all that we asked, eh? By the
way, did you _ever_ get a position that suited your exacting taste?"
"Wal, yis," remarked Sam, after an instant of meditation, "seems like
we _did_ once--at Malvern Hill. We hed jest th' right drop, thar,
an' our plungin' fire cut out work thet warn't far from bein' plain
butchery."
"After we'd got settled," resumed the colonel, "we began to look about
for amusement; but the 'Four Corners' didn't seem to afford much in
that line, and so most of us put in our time at making up lost sleep,
and we certainly might have found less profitable employment. Of
course we sent out foraging parties, but the few unhappy hens that
fell into their hands didn't go far towards making chicken salad for
four hundred hungry men, and so we fell back upon our usual healthful
diet of hard-tack and 'salt horse.' Lord! what wouldn't I have given
for a bottle of cold beer, or a pitcher of this blessed mixture," and
the chief, moved by the recollection of past privations, emptied his
half-filled glass at a single swallow.
The watchful adjutant promptly made good the deficiency in his
superior's tumbler, and then did himself a like kindness; Van Sickles,
who quietly had been smoking in a shadowy corner, rose, stretched
himself, and flung himself down upon the end of the window-seat
opposite the major; and then the colonel--just as the city clocks
began to strike eleven--went on, "Up to nightfall there had been no
developments, and when we bundled ourselves up in our blankets, after
posting pickets, it was with a comfortable feeling that we were in for
a quiet night.
"I'd been officer of the guard the night before, and probably
I don't need to say how soundly I fell asleep. But when, along
towards morning, a shot rang out from somewhere in the darkness
beyond, followed by another, and then by two or three in quick
succession--why, I came rolling out of my blankets in almighty short
order, and it didn't take an alarm-clock to tell me that it was time
to be getting up. Well, the long roll sounded, the regiment fell in,
and presently in came the pickets to report the enemy in our front.
"By this time the night was pretty well along, and the first hazy
light of the new day was beginning to come; but there wasn't quite
enough of it to show us what was going on across the clearing, and so
we threw out skirmishers into the woods on either flank, and waited
for the next number on the programme. For a good half-hour we stood
there, behind the breastworks, without being able to detect a movement
in our front; and I--believing the whole thing due to an attack of
'nerves'--had begun to try what satisfaction I could get from damning
the eyes and ears of the pickets who had spoiled my beauty-sleep, when
Bob Sheldon, my captain, touched my arm, and silently pointed out
towards the clearing.
"Now, all this time the light had been gathering strength, and though
it still was too dim to enable us easily to distinguish objects
at any distance, I yet could make out what seemed to be a line of
skirmishers, slowly moving up towards us. A second glance told me
that my eyes had not deceived me, and I turned towards Sheldon, with,
'My apologies to the pickets. I damned 'em too hastily, for we're to
have company at breakfast, surer than gospel.' 'Yes; them's them,'
said Bob, 'but not all of 'em. I'd give a pipeful of plug to know
what's hidden over there in the woods.' 'Where'd be the fun in that?'
I inquired, stooping over to rub my knee, which had stiffened up a
trifle during the night. 'If we knew what was coming, the chances are
that we'd leg it; and then what would become of the reputations we've
been so long in building up?'
"I straightened up, as I spoke, and again peered over the crest of
the breastwork, discovering that the advancing line had halted about
two hundred yards from us, evidently without any great ambition to
attempt a closer investigation; for at this stage in the war, you must
understand, both the Confederates and we had learned to think twice
before intruding upon a force well entrenched. These fellows, however,
didn't get much time to ponder on the situation, for we gave them a
volley which sent them to the rear again, though they retired slowly,
and fired as they fell back."
"About as my skirmishers did last October," said the major, half to
himself, as he recalled an episode of the regiment's latest engagement.
"Yes; exactly as your men did," said the chief, catching this remark,
"with this exception: your boys _all_ went back, but when this line
gave ground it left three poor devils lying motionless in the damp
grass. Ah, yes; a 'Fall Drill' would be very like a real fight--if it
weren't so different," and he paused to liven up his pipe by a few
quick, strong puffs.
"This little exchange of compliments--the way we had in those days,
you know, of saying 'How d'ye do?'--was only the curtain-raiser to the
real performance," the colonel resumed, after his pipe again had begun
to glow and smoke like a toy volcano, "and we hadn't long to wait for
the beginning of it. In something less than fifteen minutes after
we'd cut loose with that preliminary volley, a regiment came marching
out from the woods, changed direction to the right, and formed line
of battle; another followed it, and formed on its left; and in the
interval between them a battery swung into position and unlimbered.
That made the odds two to one, in infantry--and six to nothing in the
matter of guns."
"Then ye don't count th' breastworks for nothin'?" queried Sam, who
was in a critical mood.
"Well, they ought to be considered," admitted the colonel, with a
laugh, "and I'll call it an even thing on infantry, but the guns
we'll have to figure at sixes and zeros; and as an old gunner, Sam,
you'll admit that the other fellows held the stronger hand.
"Now, we didn't care much for the infantry part of the show, but the
artillery feature promised to be interesting. The sight of those six
guns, I make no bones of admitting, worried me considerably; and even
old Burleigh himself showed signs of unusual animation when he turned
to Frazier, our quartermaster, with, 'Frazier, did you ever see a man
ride like hell?' 'Yes, sir, I've seen several men riding that way,'
replied the quartermaster. 'Well, then,' blurted out old Burleigh,
'get on your horse, and ride back to the brigade--in _just_ that way!
Give the general my compliments, and tell him I want some guns, and
in the biggest kind of hurry, too, if I'm to hold this position. Say
that I've got a brigade, at the least, to handle, and nobody knows how
much more. I guess I can stand 'em off for an hour, unless they're in
force enough to walk right over me, and I'll give you exactly those
sixty minutes for getting the guns here. That's all--go! and Frazier
started at a gallop, just as the first shell came screeching across
the clearing.
"'Twas all-fired short range for artill'ry work," commented Sam, at
this point, "an' I've always allowed thet th' only thing thet saved ye
were raw gunners. _Must_ ha' be'n that, for guns half handled would
ha' had ye dead an' buried 'fore we got up."
"Yes, the guns seemed frightfully near," assented the chief, slightly
shifting his position, to bring his glass within easier reach, "and I
think your guess about the gunners must be a good one, for a smartly
handled battery ought to have wiped us off the face of the earth in
less than half the time that we faced this one. In fact, now that
I come to think of it, I remember noticing that most of the shells
went over us, and wondering how soon the pieces would be depressed
sufficiently to knock our line of works into a cocked hat.
"Well, as I've said, Frazier left for the rear in something of a
hurry, and none of us devoted much time to watching his departure, for
in front there was more than plenty to take up our attention. Five
hundred yards was as long range for the muskets of those days as it
was close quarters for guns; but we couldn't stand idle and take _all_
the pounding, and so we went in for a little firing on our own account.
"For a time things were rather in a mixed-up mess, and I had my hands
full in seeing that my boys kept cool--or decently near it--and
didn't go to chucking their ammunition away too generously; so you
can understand that I had no eye for anything except what went on in
my immediate vicinity. But I can remember, as distinctly as if it
had occurred but yesterday, how I turned, when a shell burst just
over us, and saw poor Bob Sheldon throw up his hands, stagger, and go
plunging down, flat upon his face. I was at his side in an instant,
but there was nothing to be done, for he lay there _dead_, with the
blood gushing in torrents from a frightful wound which apparently had
crushed in his skull. Poor old Bob! I turned him over upon his back,
gave just one hurried look at him, and then went back to the company,
for--our second lieutenant being then in hospital--I was the only
officer left."
The colonel paused long enough to take a sip from his glass, holding
it for an instant up before him to catch the effect of the bright
moonlight upon the ruddy claret. Then he went on: "Just how long we'd
been at it I'm not certain--for it's hard to compute time when every
minute is crowded with noise, and smoke, and death; but finally there
came a let-up in the firing, and with it an indescribable sort of
feeling that something new was about to happen. I was walking up and
down behind my company--now and again saying a word to steady the
boys--when, from our rear, I heard the music of a military band; and
presently, as it drew nearer, I caught the air it was playing. It was
our own band--we were one of the few volunteer regiments provided
with such a luxury--and old Colonel Burleigh had ordered it to march
up to the front, playing for all it was worth, in the hope that the
Confederates might be led to believe that we were being reënforced.
"Now, we were a careless and godless set, the most of us, but we were
a Massachusetts regiment, New Englanders born and bred, and we all
knew the 'psalm tunes' of our boyhood days; so when the band came
marching up, thundering out the 'Portuguese Hymn'--that grand old
psalm beginning,
'How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,'--
the effect was instantaneous. The old colonel afterwards told us that
he had intended to pass along word for the boys to set up a cheer when
the band began to play, but the command never was given; for when our
fellows recognized the old, familiar air, they rose as one man, and
shouted and yelled, and yelled again, until the woods reëchoed with
the cheering.
"The cheering was at its height when an inspiration came to our
color-sergeant--a great, bearded fellow, with a voice like a
trumpet--and, holding high in air the torn and faded colors, he sprang
upon the breastworks, and roared out the second verse of the hymn--
'Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed!
I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid;
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.'