"Then you want to make us pay nearly what the whole farm cost you for using the meadow a single night?"

"Wall, I reckon as how the rails will all be gone, and the sod all cut up, and----"

"Well, I reckon," interrupted the Quarter-Master, "that you ought to prove your loyalty before you talk about claiming damages from Uncle Sam."

"Oh! I'm on nary side, on nary side;" and he looked half suspiciously about the crowd, now somewhat increased. "I'm too old; besides, my left knee is crippled up bad," limping as he said so, to sustain his a.s.sertion.

"Where are your children?"

"My two boys and son-in-law are off with the South, but I'm not 'countable for them."

"Well, sir, you'll have to prove your loyalty before you get a receipt from me for any amount."

"Prove my loyalty?" he muttered, at the same time looking blank. "What sort of swearin' have you for that?"

"Don't swear him at all, at all," broke in the little Irish Corporal.

"Swearing is no subst.i.tute for swinging. Faith! he's up to that business. It's mate and drink to him. Make him whistle Yankee Doodle or sing Hail Columbia. Be jabers, it is not in his looks to do it without choking."

Terence's suggestion met with a general laugh of approval. The old fellow, finding himself in a crowd slow to appreciate his claim for damages when his loyalty was at a discount, made off towards his house, a dingy, two-story frame near by, reminded by the Colonel as he left that he would be expected to keep closely within doors while the troops were in that vicinity.

This sovereign of the soil was a fair specimen of the landed gentry of Virginia. "On nary side," as he expressed it, when the Federal troops were in his neighborhood, and yet malignant and dastardly enough to maltreat any sick or wounded Union soldier that chance might throw into his hands. The less reserved tongues of his daughters told plainly enough where the family stood on the great question of the day. But while they recounted to some of the junior officers who were always on the alert in making female acquaintances, their long lists of famous relatives, they had all the eagerness of the Yankee, so much despised in the Richmond prints, in disposing of half-starved chickens and heavy hoe-cakes at extortionate prices. With their d.i.c.kering propensities there was an amount of dirt on their persons and about the premises, and roughness in their manners, that did great discredit to the memory of Pocahontas.

"You have the old horse tied up close," casually remarked a spruce young Sergeant who, in obedience to orders from Division Head-quarters, had just stationed a guard in the yard of the premises, alluding to an old, worn-out specimen of horseflesh tied up so closely to the house that his head and neck were almost a straight line.

"Yon's no hoss, sir. It's a mare," quickly retorted one of those black-eyed beauties.

The polite Sergeant, who had dressed himself with more than usual care, in the expectation of meeting the ladies, colored somewhat, but the young lady, in a matter-of-course strain, went on to say,

"She's the only one left us, too. Preston and Moncure took the rest with them, and they say they've nearly used 'em up chasing you Yanks."

Her unlady-like demeanor and exulting allusion to the Rebel cavalry tested to the utmost the Sergeant's qualities as a gentleman. A d.i.c.ker for a pair of chickens, accomplished by his subst.i.tuting a little ground coffee for a great sum in greenbacks, soon brought about a better understanding, however, on the part of the damsel.

A few hours later saw the Adjutant and our poetical Lieutenant snugly seated on split-bottomed chairs in a dirty kitchen. Random conversation, in which the women let slip no opportunity of reminding their visitors of the soldierly qualities of the Rebels, interrupted by the occasional bleating of sheep and bawling of calves in the cellar, made the evening's entertainment novel and interesting. So much so that at a late hour the Lieutenant, who had invested closely the younger of the two, said, half sighing, as he gave her a fond look,

"With thee conversing, I forget all time, All----"

"Wall, I reckon I don't," broke in the matter-of-fact young lady. "Sal, just kick yon door around." As Sal did her bidding, and the full moon on the face of an old fashioned corner clock was disclosed, she continued, "It's just ten minutes after eleven, and you Yanks had better be off."

Although the Adjutant was

"Like steel amid the din of arms; Like wax when with the fair,"

this lack of appreciation of poetic sentiment so abruptly shown, brought him out in a roar, and completely disconcerted the Lieutenant. They both retired speedily, and long after, the circ.u.mstance was one of the standing jokes of the camp.

One of the most prominent and eagerly wished-for occurrences in camp, is the arrival of the mail. The well filled bag, looking much like one of the bags of doc.u.ments forwarded by Congressmen for private purposes at Uncle Sam's expense, was emptied out on the sod that evening in front of the Colonel's marquee, and bundles containing boots, tobacco, bread, clothing of all kinds, eatables, and what-not,--for at that time Uncle Sam's army mails did a heavy express business,--were eyed curiously, by the crowd impatient for distribution. Most singular of all in shape and feeling was a package, heavily postmarked, and addressed to the Colonel.

It contained what was a G.o.d-send to the larder of the mess,--a quarter of fine tender meat. But what kind of animal, was the query. The Major, who was a Nimrod in his own locality, after the most thorough inspection, and the discovery of a short straight hair upon it, p.r.o.nounced it venison, or young kid, and confirmed the Colonel in the belief that he had been remembered by one of his Western friends. But deer or dog was a matter of indifference to hungry campaigners. A hearty meal was made of it, and speculation continued until the Brigadier, who had perpetrated the joke upon the Colonel, saw fit, long after, to reveal that it was mutton that had been taken from some marauders during the day's march.

During the first and second days of the march, cannonading had been heard at intervals on the right flank. This day, however, the silence was ominous; and now at its close, with our army in close proximity to Fredericksburg, it indicated peaceable, unopposed possession, or delay of our own forces. But of the delay and its cause, provoking as it was, and costly as it has proved, enough has probably been written. An Investigating Committee has given the public full records. If we do not learn that delinquents have been punished, let us hope that the warning has been sufficient to avoid like difficulties in the future.

Our army quietly turned into camp among the wooded heights of Stafford, opposite the town of Fredericksburg. The Rebels as quietly collected their forces and encamped on the heights upon the opposite side of the river. Day by day we could see them busily at work upon their fortifications. Each morning fresh mounds of earth appeared at different points in the semi-circular range of hills bounding Fredericksburg upon the South and West. This valuable time was made use of by the pontoon train at the rate of four miles per day.

The three Grand Divisions, now that their stately march by the flank was over, had settled comfortably down among the hills of Stafford. Wood and water, essentials for camp comfort, were to be found in abundance. While the little parleying between the Commander of the Right Grand Division and the civil authorities of Fredericksburg continued, matters were somewhat in suspense. But a gradual quiet crept over the army, and in a few short weeks that heavily timbered country was one vast field of stumps, with here and there cl.u.s.ters of pine trees left standing for the comfort of different Head-quarters. As the timber disappeared, the tents and huts of the army before concealed in the forests were disclosed, and the whole country in the vicinity of the railroad was a continuous camp.

The few open fields or barrens afforded fine review and drill grounds, and the toils of the march were scarcely over before in all directions could be heard the steady tramp of solid columns engaged in the evolutions of the field.

Those who think that duties are light in camp, know nothing of the legions of reports, statements in duplicate and triplicate, required by the too often senseless formalities of red tape. These duties vary greatly in different divisions. With a place-man, mechanical in his movements, and withal not disposed to lighten labor, they multiply to a surprising extent, and subs intrusted with their execution often find that the most laborious part of the service is drudgery at the desk.

Night after night would repose at Regimental Head-quarters be interrupted by repet.i.tious and in many cases inconsistent orders, the only purpose of which appeared to be, to remind drowsy Adjutants and swearing Sergeant-Majors that the Commanding General of Division still ruled at Division Head-quarters, and that he was most alive between the hours of nine and twelve at night. Independently of the fact that in most cases in ordinary camp-life there was no reason why these orders should not have issued in business hours, their multiplicity was a nuisance. The pen may be mightier than the sword, but in all conscience when the pen has been through necessity ignored, and the sword is uplifted for rapid and earnest blows, and the heart of a nation hangs in heavy suspense upon its movements, these travelling Bureaux had better be abolished. Superadded to all this, was the labor resulting from the mania for Court-Martialing that raged at Division Head-quarters.

Mechanical in its movements, not unfrequently malignant in its designs, officer after officer, earnest in purpose, but in some instances perhaps deficient in detail, had been sacrificed to an absolutism that could order the charges, detail the Court, play the part of princ.i.p.al witness for the prosecution, and confirm the proceedings.

"Our volunteer force will never amount to much, until we attain the exact discipline of the French service," was the frequent remark of a General of Division. Probably not. But how much would its efficiency be increased, had the policy of the great Napoleon, from whose genius the French arms derive their l.u.s.tre, prevailed, in detailing for desk duty in quiet departments the mechanical minds of paper Generals. His master tact in a.s.signing to commanders legitimate spheres of work, and with it the untiring zeal of a Cromwell that would run like a purifying fire through the army, imparting to it its own impetuosity, and ridding it of jealousy and disaffection, were greatly needed in this Grand Army of the Potomac. n.o.bler men never stood in ranks! Holier banners never flaunted in the sunlight of Heaven! G.o.d grant its directing minds corresponding energy and wisdom.

CHAPTER XV.

_Red Tape and the Soldier's Widow--Pigeon-holing at Head-Quarters and Weeping at the Family Fireside--A Pigeon-hole General Outwitted--Fishing for a Discharge--The Little Irish Corporal on Topographical Engineers--Guard Duty over a Whiskey Barrel._

----, Penna., Nov.--, 1862.

MY DEAR GEORGE:--This is the first spare time that I have been able to get during the last week for a letter to my dear husband. And now that there is quiet in the house, and our dear little boys are sound asleep, and the covers nicely tucked about them in their little trundle, I feel that I can scarcely write. There is such a heaviness upon my heart. When I saw the crowd at the telegraph office this morning while on my way to church, and heard that they were expecting news of a great battle on the Rappahannock, such a feeling of helplessness, sinking of the heart, and dizziness came over me, that I almost fell upon the pavement. The great battle that all expect so eagerly, may mean our dear little children fatherless and myself a widow. Oh, George, I feel so sad and lonely, and then every footstep I hear at the door I am afraid some one is coming with bad news. Your last letter, too, I do not like.

I am afraid that more is the matter with you than you are willing to admit. You promised me, too, that you would apply for a furlough. Lieut. H---- has been twice at home since he went out.

You know he is in Sickles' Division.

Our precious little boys keep asking continually when papa will come home. Little Georgie says he is a "du-du," you know that is what he calls a soldier, and he gets the old sword you had in the three months' service, and struts up and down at a great rate. They can both say the Lord's prayer now, and every night when they get through with it, they ask G.o.d to bless papa and mamma, and all the Union "du-dus." I do wish that you could see them in their little "Gadibaldis," as Harry calls them. When I see Mr. B----and others take their evening walks with their children, just as you used to do with Georgie, it takes all the grace and all the patriotism I can muster to keep from murmuring.

Mr. G---- says that we need not trouble about the rent this quarter, that he will wait until you are paid. The neighbors, too, are very kind to me, and I have been kept so busy with work from the shops, that I have made enough to pay all our little expenses.

But for all, George, I cannot help wishing every minute of the day that "this cruel war was over" and you safe back. At a little sewing party that we had the other day, Em D---- sang that old song "When wild war's deadly blast was blown," that you used to read to me so often, and when I heard of "sweet babes being fatherless,"

and "widows mourning," I burst into tears. I do not know why it is, but I feel as if expecting bad news continually. Our little boys say "don't cry, mamma," in such a way when I put them to bed at night, and tell them that I kiss them for you too, that it makes me feel all the worse. I know it is wrong. I know our Heavenly Father knows what is best for us. I hope by this time you have learned to put your trust in him. That is the best preparation for the battle-field.

Do not fail to come home if you can. G.o.d bless you, George, and protect you, is the prayer of

Your loving wife, MARY.

On a low cot in the corner of a hospital tent, near Potomac Creek, propped up by some extra blankets kindly loaned him by his comrades, toward the close of a December afternoon, lay a slightly-built, rather handsome man of about thirty, holding with trembling hand the above letter, and hurriedly gathering its contents with an eager but unsteady eye. The Surgeon noticing the growing flush upon his already fevered cheek, suggested that he had better have the letter read to him. So intent was the reader, that the suggestion was twice repeated before heeded, and then only drew the remark "Mary and the boys." A sudden fit of coughing that appeared to tear the very life strings came upon him, and at its close he fell back exhausted upon his pillow.

"What luck, Adjutant?" inquired the Surgeon in a low tone, as he went forward, cautiously treading among the sick, to admit that officer into the tent.

The Adjutant with a shake of the head remarked that the application had gone up two weeks previously from Brigade Head-quarters, and that nothing had been heard of it since. "As usual," he added, "pigeon-holed at Division Head-quarters."

"Poor Wilson has been inquiring about it all day, and I very much fear that should it come now, it will be too late. He has failed rapidly to-day."

"So bad as that? I will send up to Division Head-quarters immediately."

The Lieutenant, a week previously, had been brought into the hospital suffering from a heavy cold and fever in connexion with it. For some weeks he had been in delicate health; so much so, in fact, that the Surgeon had urged him to apply for a furlough, and had stated in his certificate to the same, that it was absolutely necessary for the preservation of his life. As the Surgeon stated, a furlough, that might then have been beneficial, promised now to be of little avail. The disease had a.s.sumed the form of congestion of the lungs, and the Lieutenant seemed rapidly sinking.

When the Adjutant left the hospital tent he sought out a Captain, an intimate acquaintance of the Lieutenant's, and charged him with a special inquiry at Head-quarters, as to the success of the application for a furlough. Thither the Captain repaired, through the well trodden mud and slush of the camp ground. The party of young officers within the tent of the Adjutant-General appeared to be in a high state of enjoyment, and that functionary himself retained just presence of mind sufficient to a.s.sure the Captain, after hearing his statement and urgent inquiry--"that there was no time now to look--that there were so d--n many papers he could not keep the run of them. These things must take their regular course, Captain,--regular course, you know. That's the difficulty with the volunteer officers," continued he, turning half to the crowd, "to understand regular military channels,--channels." As he continued stammering and stuttering, the crowd inside suspended the pipe to e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e a.s.sent, while the Captain, understanding red-tape to his sorrow, and too much disgusted to make further effort to understand the Captain, retraced his steps. Finding the Adjutant he told him of his lack of success, and together they repaired to the hospital tent to break the unwelcome news.

At the time of his entry into the Hospital the Lieutenant was impressed with the belief that the illness would be his last, and he daily grew more solicitous as to the success of his application for a furlough.