THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA LIBRARY THE WILMER COLLECTION OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS PRESENTED BY RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. ^H^^l^ (XHi fTTlON THE SOLDIER BOY. On the Retreat from Bull Kun Tage 138. THE SOLDIER BOY; OB, TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. #lora tt llije i^x^ui ^^h^lUtn. BY OLIVER OPTIC, ACTHOR OP "RICH ASD HUMBLE," "IN SCHOOL A^TD OCT," "THI BOAT ClUB," " ALL ABOARD," " XOW OR NEVER," " TRY AGAIN," " POOR AND PROUD," "UTILE BY UTILE," "THE RIVERDALE 8T0RT BOOKS," ETC. BOSTON: LEE AND SHEPARD, SUCCESSORS TO PHILLIPS, SAJfPSOX * CO. 1864. Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by WILLIAM T. ADAMS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. ELECTBOTTPED AT THE Boston Stereotype Foundry , No. 4 Spring Lane. TO WILLIAM LEE, ESQ., Tliis Boole IS RESPECTFTLLY DEDICATED, BY HIS FRIEND WILLIAM T. ADAMS. 6026G9 THE ARMY AXD XA^' STORIES. In Foixr "Vol-umes. BY OLIVER OPTIC. L tut: S0I^I>IET1 BOY; Or, Toxn Soixiers in tlie J^vmy, n. THE SAHLOU BOY; Or, Jack Soixiers in tlie ^avy. (In Prepar&tion.) III. THE YOXJ>-0 EIEXJTE>-^I^Z\'T ; Or, The -A-d-ventures of an J^mmy Officer. A SEQUEL TO " THE SOLDIER BOY." (In Preparation.) IV. Tm: 'S'A.^'KIEIZ: 3rTI>I>Y; Or, Th.e -A-dventrires of a ^aval OfScer. A SEQUEL TO " THE SAILOR EOT." (In Prep&ntion.) (4) PREFACE. This volume is not altogether a military romance, though it contains the adventures of one of those noble-hearted and pa- triotic young men who went forth from homes of plenty and happiness to fight the battles of our imperilled country. The incidents of the story may be stirring and exciting; yet they are not only within the bounds of probability, but have been more than paralleled in the experience of hundreds of the gal- lant soldiers of the loyal army. The work is not intended to approach the dignity of a his- tory, though the writer has carefully consulted the ♦• authorities," both loyal and rebel, and has taken down the living words of enthusiastic participants in the stirring scenes described in this volume. He has not attempted to give a full picture of any battle, or other army operation, but simply of those move- ments in which the hero took a part. The book is a nar- rative of personal adventure, delineating the birth and growth of a pure patriotism in the soul of the hero, and describing the perils and privations, the battles and marches which he shared with thousands of brave men in the army of the Po- tomac. The author has endeavored to paint a picture of the true !• (6) I PREFACE. soldier, one who loves his country, and fights for her because he loves her; but, at the same time, one who is true to him- self and his God, while he is faithful to his patriotic impulses. The work has been a pleasure to me in its preparation, and I hope it will not disappoint the reasonable expectation of those partial friends whose smile is my joy, whose frown is my grief. But, more than all, I trust this humble volume will have some small influence in kindling and cherishing that gen- uine patriotism which must ever be the salvation of our land, the foundation of our national prosperity and happiness. 'SVILIJAM T. ADAMS. Dorchester, Feb. 22, 1864. CONTENTS. CBJiPTSB PAGE I, The Battle of Pijichbbook, il II. The Somehs Family, 21 III. Tami>-g ^ Traitok, 32 IV. The Committee come out, and Tom goes rs, . . . . 41 V. The Attic Chamber, 49 VI. The Way is prepared, 58 VII. A MiDXiGHT Adventure, 63 VIII. SiGXUfG THE Papers, 77 IX. The Departure 87 X. Company K, 97 XI. Ix Washtn-gtox, 107 XII. " Ox TO RicinioxD," 113 XIII. The Battle of Bull Rux, 127 XIV. After the Battle, 137 XV. Tom a Prisoxer, 1^7 XVI. A Perplexing Question, 157 XVII. DXXXER AXD D.VXGER, 10*3 XVIII. The Rebel Soldier, i~6 XIX. Through the Gap, 186 XX. DO^^'N THE SHEXAXDOAH, li>6 XXI. The Problem of Rations, 206 (7) 3 CONTENTS. XXII. The Picket Guard, 218 XXIII. The End of the Voyage, 226 XXIV. BuDD'9 Ferry, a36 XXV. In the Hospital, 246 XXVI. T03I IS sentimental, 256 XXVII. The Confederate Deserter, 266 XXVIII. On the Peninsl-la, 275 XXIX. The Battle of Williamsbuug, 284 XXX. More of the Battle, 2&J XXXI. Glory and Victory 302 XXXII. «' Honorable Mention," 312 XXXIII. LlEUTENA2fT SOMERS AND OTHERS, 321 THE SOLDIER BOY; OR, TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY CHAPTER I. THE BATTLE OF PI^XHBROOK. J;^ ORT SUMTER has surrendered, mother : " shouted Thomas Somers, as he rushed into the room where his mother was quietly read- ing her Bible. It was Sunday, and the exciting news had been cir- culated about the usually quiet village of Pinchbrook Harbor. Men's lips were compressed, and their teeth shut tight together. They were indignant, for traitors had fired upon the flag of the United States. Men, women, and children were roused l)y the indignity offered to the national emblem. The cannon balls that struck the Avails of Sumter seemed at the same time to strike the souls of the whole population of the North, and never was there such a great awakening since the ^2 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR Pilgrim Fathers first planted their feet upon the rock of Plymouth. " Fort Sumter has surrendered ! " shouted the indig- nant young patriot again, as his mother looked up from the blessed volume. " You don't say so I " exclaimed Mrs. Somers, as she closed the Bible, and removed her spectacles. " Yes, mother. The infernal rebels hammered away at the fort for two days, and at last we had to give in." " There'll be terrible times afore long," replied the old lady, shaking her head with prophetic earnestness. " The President has called for seventy-five thousand volunteers, and I tell you there'll be music before long ! " continued the youth, so excited that he paced the room with rapid strides. "What's the matter, Thomas?" asked a feeble old gentleman, entering the room at this moment. "Fort Sumter has surrendered, gran'ther," repeated Thomas, at the top of his lungs, for the aged man was quite deaf; " and the President has called for seventy- five thousand men to go down and fight the traitors." " Sho ! " exclaimed the old man, halting, and gazing with earnestness into the face of the boy. " It's a fact, gran'ther." " Well. Pra too old to go." muttered gran'ther Greene ; •• but I wa'n't older'n vou are when I shoul- m NcU TOAf S0MER3 IN THE ARMY. |3 dered my lirelock in 1812. I'm too old and stiff to go now." "- How old were you, gran'ther, when you went to the war ? " asked Thomas, with more moderation than he had exhibited before. *' Only sixteen, Thomas ; but I was as tall as I am now," repUed the patriarch, dropping slowly and cau- tiously into the old-fashioned high-back chair, by the side of the cooking stove. '* Well, I'm sixteen, and I mean to go." " You, Thomas ! You are crazy ! You shan't do any thing of the kind," interposed Mrs. Somers. " There's men enough to go to the war, without such boys as you are." " You ain't quite stout enough to make a soldier, Thomas. You ain't so big as I was, when I went off to York state," added gran'ther Greene. '' I should like to go any how%" said Thomas, as he seated himself in a corner of the room, and began to think thoughts big enough for a full-grown man. " Fort Sumter has surrendered," shouted John Som- ers, rushing into the- house as much excited as his brother had been. " We've heard aU al)Out it, John," replied his mother. " The President has called for seventy-five thousand men, and in my opinion the rebels will get an awful 2 14 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR licking before they are a fortnight older. I should like to go and help do it." The exciting news was discussed among the mem- bers of the Somers family, as it was in thousands of other families, on that eventful Sunday. Thomas and John could think of nothing, speak of nothing, but Fort Sumter, and the terrible castigation which the rebels would receive from the insulted and outraged North. They were loyal even to enthusiasm ; and when they retired to their chamber at night, they ventured to ex- press to each other their desire to join the great army which was to avenge the insult offered to the flag of the Union. They were twin brothers, sixteen years of age ; but they both thought they were old enough and strong enough to be soldiers. Their mother, however, had promptly disapproved of such suggestions, and they had not deemed it prudent to discuss the idea in her presence. On Monday, the excitement instead of subsiding, was fanned to a fever heat ; Pinchbrook Harbor was in a glow of patriotism. Men neglected their usual occupa- tions, and talked of the affairs of the nation. Every per- son who could procure a flag hung it out at his window, or hoisted it in his yard, or on his house. The governor had called out a portion of the state militia, and already the tramp of armed men was heard in the neigh- boring city of Boston. ruM soMhRs ly the army. 15 Thomas Somers was employed in a store in the vil- lage, and during the forenoon he mechanically performed the duties of his position ; but he could think of nothing- but the exciting topic of the day. His blood was boilin*^ with indignation against those who had trailed our hal- lowed flag in the dust. He wanted to do something to redeem the honor of his country — something to wipe out the traitors who had dared to conspire against her peace. On his way home to dinner, he met Fred Pemberton, w^ho lived only a short distance from his own house. '' What do you think now, Fred ? " said Thomas. "What do I think? I think just as I always did — the North is wrong, and the South is right," replied Fred. *' Who fired upon Fort Sumter? That's the question," aaid Thomas, his eyes flashing with indignation. " Why didn't they give up the fort, then?" " Give up the fort ! Shall the United States cave in before the little State of South Carolina. Not by a two chalks ! " " I think the North has been teasinor and vexing the South till the Southerners can't stand it any longer. There'll be war now." *' I hope there will ! By gracious, I hope so ! " " I hope the South will beat ! " " Do you ? Do you, Fred Pemberton ? " demanded Tom, so excited he could not stand still. 15 THE SOLDIER BOY, OS " Yes, I do. The South has the rights of it. If v:e had let their niggers alone, there wouldn't have been any trouble." " You are as blind as a bat, Fred. Don't you see this isn't a quarrel between the North and the South, but between the government and the rebels ? " " I don't see it. 'If the North had let the South alone, there wouldn't have been any fuss. I hope the North will get whipped, and I know she will." '-'' Fred, you are a traitor to your country ! " "No, I'm not!" " Yes, you are ; and if I had my way, I'd ride you on a rail out of town." " No, you wouldn't." " Yes, I would. I always thought you were a decent fellow ; but you are a dirty, low-lived traitor." " Better be careful what you say, Tom Somers ! " re- torted the young secessionist, angrily. " A fellow that won't stand by his country ain't fit to live. You are an out-and-out traitor." " Don't call me that again, Tom Somers," replied Fred, doubling up his fist. " I say you are a traitor." '' Take that, then." Tom did take it, and it was a pretty hard blow on the side of his head. Perhaps it was fortunate for our young patriot that an opportunity was thus TOM SOML'RS IX THE ARMY. 17 afforded him lo evaporate some of his enthusiasm in the cause of his country, for there is no knowing what mipfht have been the consequence if it had remainc 1 longer pent up in liis soul.. Of course, he struck back ; and a contest, on a small scale, between the loyalty of the Xurth and the treason of the South com- menced. IIow long it might have continued, or what might have been the result, cannot now be considered ; for the approach of a chaise interrupted the battle, and the forces of secession were reenforced by a full- grown man. The gentleman stepped out of his chaise with his whip in his hand, and proceeded to lay it about the legs and body of the representative of the Union side. This was more than Tom Somers could stand, and he retreated in good order from the spot, till he had placed himself out of the reach of the whip. ""What do you mean, you young scoundrel?" de- manded the gentleman wdio had interfered. Tom looked at him, and discovered that it was Squire Pemberton, the father of his late opponent. '• He hit me first," said Tom. " He called me a traitor," added Fred. " I won't be called a traitor by him, or any other fellow." " What do you mean by calling my sou a traitor, you villain?" 2* ;13 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR " I meant just what I said. He is a traitor. He said he hoped the South would beat." " Suppose he did. I hope so too," added Squire Pemberton. The squire thought, evidently, that this ought to set- tle the question. If he hoped so, that was enough. " Then you are a traitor, too. That's all I've got tx) say," replied Tom, boldly. " You scoundrel ! How dare you use such a word to me ! " roared the squire, as he moved towards the blunt-spoken little patriot. For strategic reasons, Tom deemed it prudent to fall back ; but as he did so, he picked up a couple of good-sized stones. " I said you were a traitor, and I say so again," said Tom. " Two can play at that game," added Fred, as he picked up a stone and Jhrew it at Tom. The Union force returned the fire with the most determined energy, until one of the missiles struck the horse attached to the chaise. The animal, evidently having no sympathy with either party in this minia- ture contest, and without considering how much damage he might do the rebel cause, started off at a furious pace when the stone struck him. He dashed down the hill at a fearful rate, and bounded away over the plain that led to the Harbor. TO AT SOMERS I A THE ARMY. |9 Squire Pemberton and his son 'had more interest in the fate of the runaway horse than they had in the issue of the contest, and botli started at the tcjp of their speed in pursuit. But they might as well have chased a flash of lightning, or a locomotive going at the rate of fifty miles an hour. Tom Somers came down from the bank which he had ascended to secure a good position. He had done rather more than he intended to do ; but on the whole he did not much regret it. He watched the course of the spirited animal, as he dashed madly on to de- struction. The career of the horse was short ; for in the act of turning a corner, half a mile from the spot where Tom stood, he upset the chaise, and was him- self thrown down, and, being entangled in the harness, was unable to rise before a stout man had him by the head. '• I wish that chaise had been the southern confed- eracy," said Tom to himself, philosophically, when lie saw the catastrophe in the distance. " T\''ell, it served you right, old Secesh ; and I'll bet there ain't many folks in Pinchbrook Harbor that will be willinj? to comfort the mourners." ^\ ith this consoling assurance, Tom continued on his way home. At dinner, he gave the family a faithful account of the transaction. "You didn't do right, Thomas," said his mother. 20 THE SOLDIER BOY, OB " He hit me first." " You called him a traitor." '' He is a traitor, and so is his father." "I declare, the boys are as full of fight as an egg is of meat," added gran'ther Greene. " You haven't seen the last of it yet, Thomas," said the prudent mother. " No matter, Tom ; I'll stand by you," added John. After dinner, the two boys walked down to the Harbor together. TOAf SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 21 CHAPTER II. THE SOMERS FAMILY. A^J^'HE town of Pinchbrook is not a great distance / I from Boston, with which it is connected by rail- Vjy^ road. If any of our young readers are of a geographical turn of mind, and are disposed to ascertain the exact locality of the place, we will save them any unnecessary trouble, for it is not laid dowTi on any map with which we are familiar. AVe live in times of war, and probably our young friends have already learned the meaning of " military necessity." Our story is essen- tially a military story, and there are certain military secrets connected with it which might be traced out if we should inform our inquisitive readers exactly where Pinchbrook is situated. Squire Pemberton, we doubt not, is very anxious to find out certain persons connected with some irregular proceedings in and around his house on the evening of Monday, April 16th. Fidelity to the truth of history compels us to narrate these proceedings in our humble volume ; but we should exceedingly regret thereby to get 22 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR any of our friends into a scrape by informing the squire that they were active participants in the scenes of that eventful night, or to say any thing which would enable him, a lawyer, to trace out the authors of the mischief through these pages. Therefore we cannot say where Pinchbrook is, or even give a hint which would enable our readers to fix definitely its locality. Pinchbrook is a town of about three thousand inhab- itants, engaged, as the school books would say, in agri- culture, manufactures, commerce, and the fisheries, which, rendered into still plainer English, means that some of the people are farmers ; that wooden pails, mackerel kegs, boots and shoes, are made ; that the inhabitants buy groceries, and sell fish, kegs, pails, and similar w^ares ; and that there are about twenty vessels OA^Tied in the place, the principal part of which are fishermen. We have not the agricultural and commercial sta- tistics of the place at hand ; but the larger territorial part of the town was devoted to the farming interest, and was rather sparsely populated, while the principal village, called Pinchbrook Harbor, was more densely peopled, contained two'fetores, four churches, one wharf, a blacksmith shop, and several shoe and bucket manu- factories. We are willing: to acknowledge that Pinchbrook is rather a singular name. The antiquarians have not TOM SOMEBS IX THE ARMY. 23 yet had an opportunity to determine its origin ; but our private opinion is that the word is a corruption of Punch-hvodk. Perhaps, at some remote period in the history of the town, before the Sons of Temper- ance obtained a foothold in the place, a villanous mixture, known to topers under the general appellation of " punch," may have been largely consumed by the Pinchbrookers. Though not a very aged person our- self, we have heard allusions to festive occasions where, metaphorically, the punch was said to "flow in streams." Possibly, from " streams " came " brooks," — hence, " Punchbrook," — which, under the strange mutations of time, has become '• Pinchbrook." But wc are not learned in these matters, and we hope that nothing we have said will bias the minds of antiquarians, and prevent them from devoting that attention to the origin of the word which its importance demands. The Somers family, which wc have already partially introduced, occupied a small cottage not quite a mile from Pinchbrook Harbor. Captain Somers, the head of the family, had been, and was still, for aught his wife and children knew, master of the schooner Gazelle. To purchase this vessel, he had heavily mortgaged his house and lands in Pinchbrook to Squire Pemberton. _^But his voyages had not been uniformly successful, though the captain believed that his earthly possessions, after discharging all his liabilities, would amount to about five thoupand dollars. 24 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR The mortgage note would become due in June, and Captain Somers had been making a strong effort to realize upon his property, so as to enable him to pay off the obligation at maturity. Captain Somers had a brother ■svho was familiarly known in the family as uncle Wy- man. He had spent his life, from the age of eighteen, in the South, and at the time of which we write, he was a merchant in Norfolk. Captain Somers and his brother had been interested together in certain mercantile transactions, and uncle Wyman, being the business man, had the proceeds of these ventures in his own hands. On the lOtli of April, only two days before the bombardment of Fort Sumter, Captain Somers had sailed in the Gazelle, with an assorted cargo, for Nor- folk. Before leaving home he had assured his wife that he should not return Avithout effecting? a settle- ment w^ith "Wyman, who had postponed it so many times, that the honest sailor began to fear his brother did not mean to deal justly with him. Nothing had been heard of the Gazelle since her departure from Boston. Uncle Wyman Avas Ivuown to be a northern man with southern principles, while his brother, though not in the habit of saying much about politics, was fully committed on the side of the government, and was willing \o sustain the President in the use of all the TOM SOAfERS IX THE ARMY. 26 coercion that might be necessary to enforce obedience to the laws. The threatening aspect of affairs at the Soiitli had made Captain Somers more than ever anxious to have his accounts adjusted, as all his earthly possessions, except the schooner, were in the hands of his brother ; and the fact that uncle Wyman was so strong an advocate of Southern rights, had caused him to make the declaration that he would not return with out a settlement. The financial affairs of the Somers family, therefore, were not in a very prosperous condition, and the sol- vency of the house depended entirely upon the adjust- ment with uncle AVyman. The mortgage note which Squire Pemberton held would be due in June, and as the creditor was not an indulgent man, there was a prospect that even the little cottage and the little farm mijiht be wrested from them. The family at home consisted of Mrs. Somers and three children. The two oldest daughters were married to two honest, hard-working fishermen at the Harbor. Thomas and John were twins, sixteen years of age. The former had a place in one of the stores at the village, and the latter occasionally went a fishing trip with his brothers-in-law. Both of the boys had been brought up to work, and there was need enough now that they should contribute what they could to the support of the family. The youngest child, Jane, was 8 26 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR but eleven years of age, and went to school. Mrs. Somers'a brother, a feeble old man, a soldier in the war of 1812, and a pensioner of the government, had been a member of the family for twenty years ; and was familiarly known in town as •• Gran'thcr Green." Having thus made our readers acquainted with Pinch- brook and the Somers family, we are prepared to con- tinue our story. Thomas and John walked down to the Harbor to- gether after dinner. The latter had listened with in- terest and approbation to his brother's account of the '' Battle of Pinchbrook," as he facetiously called it ; and perhaps he thought Thomas might need his as- sistance before he reached the store, for Fred and his father would not probably be willing to let the matter rest where they had left it. We are sorry not to be able to approve all the acts of the hero of this volume ; but John, without asking our opinion, fully indorsed the action of his brother. " Fred is a traitor, and so is his father," said lie, as they passed out at the front gate of the little cottage. " That's so. Jack ; and it made my blood boil to hear them talk," replied Thomas. " And I couldn't help calling things by their right names." " Bully for you, Tom I " added John, as he turned round, and glanced at the house to assure himself they were out of the hearing of their mother. " Be- TOM SOMEBS IX THE ARMY. 27 t"\veen you and me, Tom, there will be music in Pinchbrook to-uight." He lowered his voice, and spoke in tones big with mystery and heavy with importance. *• Wliat do you mean?" asked Thomas, his interest excited by the words and manner of his brother. '' There is fun ahead." " Tell me what it's all about." "You won't say a word — will you?" " Of course I won't." " Not to mother, I mean, most of all." " Certainly not." " Squire Pemberton has been talking too loud for his own good." " I know that ; he was in the store this forenoon, and JefF Davis himself is no bigger traitor than he is." *' Some of the people are going to make him a call to-night." "What for?" "What do you suppose? Can't you see through a millstone, Tom, when there is a hole in it?" " I don't know what you mean." " You can come with us if you like, and then you will know all about it," added John, mysteriously. "But what arc you going to do?" " We arc "roini? to make him hoist the American flag on' his house, or hang it out of his window." 28 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOT, OR " Well, suppose he won't." " Then we'll hano^ him where the flaof ouojht to be. "We'll pull the house do-vNTi over his head." " I'm with you, Jack," replied Thomas, with en- thusiasm. " We won't have a traitor in Pinchbrook. If we can't cure him, we'll ride him on a rail out of the town." " I don't know as you and I ought to get into this scrape," added Thomas, thoughtfully, " Why not ? " " You know the squire has a mortgage on our house, and he may get ugly." " Let him, if he likes. I'm not going to tolerate a traitor because he has a mortgage on my father's house. Besides, that is a fair business transaction ; the squire gets his interest." " Mother is afraid of him, as she is of the evil spirit." " Women are always timid," said John, sagely. "By George! there comes the very man himself!" exclaimed Thomas, as he discovered a horse and chaise slowly approaching. "So it is ; that old chaise looks rather the worse for the wear. It looks as thousrh it had been throuGrh CD O the w^ars." The vehicle did bear very evident marks of hard TOM SOMrjiS /A Till: ARMY. 29 usage. One of the shaits was brokeu, the dasher, wrenched off, and the top stove in. The horse was covered with nuid, and limped badly from the eifects of his fall. The broken shaft and the harness were now plentifully adorned with ropes and old straps. In fact, the catastrophe had utterly ruined all claim which the chaise ever might have had to be consid- ered a " hahnsomc kerridge." '' There'll be fun nearer home, I reckon," said John, as he obtained his first view of the sour visage of the squire. '* Can't help it," added Thomas. " Keep a stiff upper lip, Tom." " I intend to do so." " Don't say a word about to-night, Tom." *' Of course not." When the chaise had approached near enough to enable the squire to recognize the author of his mis- fortunes, he stopped the horse, and got out of the vehicle, with the whip in his hand. " Xow, you young scoundrel, I will teach you to insult me and my sou, and destroy my property. Stay in the chaise, Fred, and hold the horse," he added to his son. But there was not much need of holding the horse now, for he was too lame to run fast or far. Thomas and John came to a halt ; and if the squire had been 3* 30 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR a prudent man, he might have seen by the flash of their eyes, that he was about to engage in an unsafe operation. " I am going to horsewhip you within an inch of your life, you villain, you ! " roared the squire, bran- dishing the whip. "No, you aro not," replied Thomas, coolly. " If you drop tlio weight of that lash on my brother, I'll smash your head," added John. The squire paused, and glanced at the wiry form of the young sailor. Better thoughts, or at least wiser ones, came to his aid. " I can bring you to your senses in another way," said he, dropping his whip, and getting into the chaise again. " You will hear from me before the week is out." '• Let him go ; don't say a word, Tom," added John. " He will prosecute me, I suppose he means by that." " Let him prosecute and be hanged I I'll bet by to-morrow morning he will think better of it. At any rate, he will find out what the people of Pinch- brook tlijnk of him." The boys resumed their walk, and soon reached the store, where they found the group of idlers, that always frequent shops in the country, busily engaged Toy/ A'OJ/AA'S /.V TIIK AliAfY. ^ in discussing the afi'air in wliitli Tliomas had been the principal actor. As the boys entered, the hero of the Pinchbrook Battle was saluted with a volley of applause, and his conduct t'ully approved and com- mended, for a copperhead in that day was an abom- ination to the people. 52 THE SOLDIER BOY, OJi CHAPTER III. TA^HNG A TRAITOR. ITH the exception of Squire Pemberton, Piuclibrook was a thoroughly loyal town ; and the people felt that it was a scandal and a disgrace to have even a simple traitor within its borders. The squire took no pains to conceal his trea- sonable sentiments, though the whole town was in a blaze of patriotic excitement. On the contrary, he had gone out of his way, and taken a great deal of pains, to condemn the government and the people of the North. Squire Pemberton Avas a wealthy man, and he had always been a person of great influence in the place. He had occupied all the principal official positions in town and county. He had come to regard himself, as his toAvnsmen were for the most part willing to regard him, as the social and political oracle of the place. What he thought in town meeting was generally the sense of his fellow-citizens, and when he expressed himself in words, his word was law. When, on Sunday morning, with Fort Sumter in ruins, TOM SOMERS IX THE Ali.UY. 33 vrith the national flag trodden under the feet of trahors, with the government insuhed and threatened, Squire Pemberton ventured to speak in tones of condemnation of the free North, the people of Pinchbrook listened coldly, at lirst, to the sayings of their oracle ; and •when he began to abuse the loyal spirit of the North, some ventured to dissent from him. The oracle was not in the habit of having men dissent, and it made him angry. His treason became more treasonable, his condemnation more bitter. Plain, honest men, to whatever party they might have belonged, were disgusted with the great man of Pinchbrook ; and some of them ventured to express their disapprobation of his course in very decided terms. Some were disposed to be indulgent because the Squire had a sister in Georgia who had married a planter. But there was not found a single person, outside of his own family, who was mean enough to uphold him in his treacherous denunciation of the government. The squire was too self-sufficient and opinionated to be influenced by the advice of friends or the warning ol' those who had suddenly become his enemies. He had 80 often carried the town to his own views, that, perhaps, he expected to manufacture a public sentiment in Pinch- brook that would place the town on the side of the reb- els. All day Sunday, and all day Monday, he rode about the Harbor preaching treason. He tried to con- vince the people that the South had all the right, and the 34 TEE SOLDrER BOY, OR North all the wrong ; but he had never found them so obstinate and incredulous before. Towards night one of the ministers ventured to sug- •T-est to him that he was sowinp^ the wind, and would reap the whirlwind. The good man even hinted that he had roused a storm of indignation in the tovai which he might find it difficult to allay. The squire laughed at the minister, and told him he was not afraid of any thing. He intended to speak his honest sentiments, as every citizen had a right to do ; and he would like to see any man, or any body of men, wlio would dare to meddle with him. " I am afraid you ^vill see them, Squire Pemberton," added the minister. '-' Let them come where they please and when they please." •' "What "will you do? TVTiat is your single arm against scores of strong men ? " " Nothing, perhaps, but I don't fear them. I am true to my convictions ; why need I fear?" " I think your convictions, as you call them, are de- luding you. Do you think Benedict Arnold's convic- tions, if he had any, would have saved his neck from the halter?" " Do you mean to compare me to Benedict Arnold, sir?" " I came to you, as a friend, to warn you of impending TUM SOMKHS IN THE ARMY. 35 danger ; and, as your friend, I am compelled to say that I don't see much difference between your position and that of Benedict Arnold." '' Do you mean to insult me ? " " Not at all, sir. I was only expressing my honest conviction. Instead of placing yourself on the side of your government, on the side of law and order, you are going about Pinchbrook Harbor denouncing the legiti- mate government of your country, and pleading the cause of rebels and traitors." *' Am I not at liberty to say what I please of the gov- ernment?" '* In ordinary times, you are. Just now, the country is in a state of war, and he who is not for the flas: is against it. You may criticise the government as its friend, but not as its foe. When armed men conspire against the peace of the land, he who pleads their cause is a traitor — nay, sir, don't be angry ; these are my convictions." " Political parsons have been the ruin of the country," sneered the squire. " That is my conviction." " Squire Pemberton, I beg you not to be rash. If you must cherish these pernicious views, I entreat you, keep them to yourself. You may think what you please, but the utterance of treason makes a traitor." " I shall proclaim my views from the housetop," re- plied the squire, angrily, as he abruptly turned away from tho mini««ter. 36 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR The squire continued obdurate to tlie last. Neither the persuasions of his friends nor the threats of his ene- mies had any cifect in silencing his tongue ; and as late as sundown on that day of the Great Awakening he was pouring treachery and treason into the ears of a neigh- bor who happened to pass his house. Half an hour later in the day, there was' a great gathering of men and boys at the bridge on the outskirts of the village. They were singing Hail Columbia and the Star-spangled Banner. Thomas and John Somers Avere there. Presently the assemblage began to move up the road which led to Squire Pemberton's house, singing ]f)atriotic songs as they marched. It was a multitude of persons for Pinchbrook ; and no doubt the obnoxious oracle thought so when he saw the sea of heads that sur- rounded his dwelling. If this was a mob, it was cer- tainly a very orderly mob, for the crowd thus far had done nothinsT worse than to sinor the national airs. The arrangements had all been made before the multi- tude started from the place of rendezvous. Three gen-, tlemen, the principal of whom was Captain Barney, had been appointed a committee to wait upon the squire, and politely request him to display the American flag on his premises. In the road, in front of the house, a large -fire had been kindled, which threw a broad, bright glare on the house and the surrounding grounds. It was as light as TOM SOBERS IX THE ARMY'. JJ7 day ill tlio vicinity when the committee Avalked up to the front door of the house and rang the bell. The squire answered the summons himself. '' Squire Pembcrton," said Captain Barney, " your fel- low-citizens, about two hundred in number, have called upon you with a simple and reasonable request." *' AMiat is it?" demanded the squire. " That you hoist the Stars and Stripes on your house." " I won't do it ! " roared the victim, as he slammed the door in the faces of the committee. ''That is insolence," said Captain Barney, quietly. " We will go in." The captain led the way ; but the door had been locked upon them. The shoulders of three stout men pressed against it, and the bolt yielded. "AVhat do you mean, you villains?" thundered the squire, as he confronted the committee in the entry. '' You were so impolite as to close the door in our faces before we had finished our story," replied the im- movable old sea captain. "IIow dare you break in my door?" growled the squire. "We shall do worse than that, squire, if you don't treat us respectfully." " A man's house is his castle," added the squire, a little more moderately. 4 38 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR *' That's very good law, but there isn't a house in Pinchbrook that is big enough or strong enough to shield a traitor from the indignation of his fellow-citizens. "We do not purpose to harm you or your property if you be- have like a reasonable man." " You shall suifer for this outrage," gasped the squire, whose rage was increased by the cool and civil manner of Captain Barney. " AMien you closed the door in my face, I had inti- mated that your fellow-citizens wish you to display the national flag." " I refuse to do it, sir." "Consider, squire, what you say. The people have made up their minds not to tolerate a traitor within the corporate limits of the town of Pinchbrook." " I am no traitor." " That is precisely what we wish you to demonstrate to your fellow-citizens assembled outside to witness an exhibition of your patriotism." " I will not do it on compulsion." " Then, sir, we shall be obliged to resort to disagreea- ble measures." " What do you mean by that, sir?" asked the squire, who was evidently alarmed by the threat. " Do you mean to proceed to violence ? " " We do. Squire Pemberton," answered Captain Bar- ney, decidedly. TO.yf so.^fjiis jy rut: ahmy. ^9 '• O my country ! " sighed the victim, *•' has it come to this ? The laws will no longer protect her citizens." '' That's very fine, sir. Do you expect the laws to protect you while you are aiding and abetting those who arc trying to destroy them? Is there any law to protect a traitor in his treason? But we waste time, Squire Pcmberton. Will you display the American flag?" "■ Suppose I refuse ? " " We will pull your house down over your head. We will give you a coat of tar and feathers, and remove you beyond the limits of the town. If you ever come back, we will hang you to the nearest tree." '' Good Heaven ! Is it possible that my fellow-citi- zens are assassins — incendiaries ! " '' Your answer, squire." " For mercy's sake, husband, do what they ask," inter- posed his mfe, Avho had been an anxious listener in the adjoining room. " I must do it," groaned the squire, speaking the truth almost for the first time in forty-eight hours. *' Alas ! where is our boasted liberty of speech I " '' Fudge ! squire," replied Captain Barney, contempt- uously. " If your friend Jeft' Davis should come to Massachusetts to-morrow, to preach a crusade against the North, and to raise an army to destroy the free insti- tutions of the country, I suppose you think it would be an outrage upon free speech to put him down. We don't think so. Fp with the flag, squire." 40 "i'BE SOLDI EJi BOY, J? a " Fred, you may hang the flag out at the front' win- dow up stairs," said the squire to his son. " All right, squire. Now a few words more, and we bid you good night. You may iJnnk what you please, but if you utter another word of treason in Pinchbrook during the term of your natural life, the party outside will carry out the rest of the programme." By this time Fred Pemberton had fastened the flag to one of his mother's clothes poles, and suspended it out of the window over the porch. It was hailed with three tremendous cheers by the multitude who were in waiting to discipline the squire, and exorcise the evil spirit of treason and secession. The work of the evening was finished, not wholly to the satisfaction, perhaps, of a portion of the younger members of the assemblage, who would gladly have joined in the work of pillage and destruction, but much to the gratification of the older and steadier portion of the crowd, who were averse to violent proceedings. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 4I CHAPTER IV. THE COMMITTEE COME OUT, AND TOM GOES IN. HILE the committee which the loyal citi- zens of Pinchbrook had appointed to eon- duct their case with Squire Pemberton were in the -house, engaged in bringing the traitor to terms, the younger members of the assemblage were very impatient to know how matters were progressing. Thomas Somers was particularly anxious to have the aihiir brought to a crisis. In vain he and a few other of the young loyalists attempted to obtain a view of the interior of the house, where the exciting interview was in progress. Captain Barney, on shore as well as at sea, was a tliorough disciplinarian. Of course, he was aware that his proceedings were technically illegal ; that in forcing liimself into the house of the squire he Avas breaking tlie law of the land ; but it seemed to him to be one of those cases where prompt action was necessary, and the law was too tardy to be of any sen^ice. He was, however, determined that the business should be done with as 4* 42 THE SOLDI EH h U Y , OH little violence as possible, and he had instructed the citi- zens at the bridge to do no needless injury to the prop- erty or the feelings of the squire or his family. When he entered the house, he had stationed three men at the door to prevent any of the people from fol- lowing him. He had also directed them not to enter the yard or gi'ounds of the house until he gave the signal. These directions proved a great hardship to the boys in the crowd, and they were completely disgusted when they saw the flag thrown loose from the front window. The mansion of Squire Pemberton was an old-fash- ioned dwelling, about a hundred feet from the road. In front of it was a green la^vn, adorned with several large buttonwood trees; There was no fence to enclose what was called tlie front yard. The crowd was assembled on this laA\Ti, and agreeably to the directions of the leader, or chairman of the committee, none of them passed into the yard in the rear and at the end of the house, which was separated from the lawn by a picket fence. Boys are instinctively curious to know what is going on, and the "living room" of the squire, in which the exciting conversation "was taking place, was in the rear of the house. The ^vindows on the front were dark and uncommunicative. Tlie boys were restless and impa- tient ; if there was to be any fun, they wanted to see it. Thomas was as impatient as his fellows, and being more T O M a OMEUS 1 y TU L A H M Y . 43 euterprisiug thau the others, he determined, while obey- ing the instructions of Captain Barney in the spirit, to disobey them in the letter. He had been a sulferer to the extent of two great wales on the calves of his legs by the treason of the squire, and no doubt he thought he ought to be regarded as an exception to those who were called on to observe the instructions of the chairman of the committee. Leaving the group of inquiring minds near the front door of the house, he walked down the driveway till he came to a rail fence, through which he crawled, and en- tered the field adjoining the garden of the squire. His fellow-citizens, men and boys, were too intently watching the house to heed him, and no one noticed his enterpris- ing movement. From the field, he entered the garden, and made his way to the rear of the house. But even here, he was doomed to disappointment, for Mrs. Pemberton had drawn her curtains. Our hero Avas not, however, to be utterly defeated, and as the curtains had not been fitted by an accomplished upholsterer, there were openings on either side, through which he might command a full view of the interior of the r©oni. Thomas proceeded slowly and cautiously to obtain a position which would enable him to gi-atify his curiosity, and witness the humiliation of the haughty squire. Be- neath the window, which he had chosen to look throush. 44 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR there was a cellar door, from which a pile of seaweed, placed upon it to keep the frost out of the cellar, had just been removed. The adventurous inquirer crept up the slippery boards, and gained the coveted position. He could not only see the committee and the squire, but he could hear all they said. He was perfectly delighted with the manner in which the captain put the question to the squire ; and when the latter ordered Fred to hang out the flag, he was a little disposed to imitate the masculine occupants of the hen-house, a short distance from his perch ; but Tom, as we liave before intimated, had a , very tolerable idea of the principles of strategy, and had the self-possession to hold his tongue, and permit the triumphant scene within to pass without a crow or a ' cheer. The battle had been fought and the victory won ; and . though Tom felt that he Avas one of the victors, he deemed it prudent, for strategical reasons, to commence a retreat. The cellar doors, as we have before hinted, were very slippery, having been thorouglily soaked with moisture while covered with the seaweed. When the hero of this unauthorized reconnoissancc wheeled about to commence his retreat, his feet incontinently slipped up upon the inclined surface of the doors, and he came do-\ATi heavily upon the rotten boards. This, in itself, would have been but an inconsiderable disaster, and he might still have withdraT\Ti from the inconvenient local- TO.V SOMERS ly THE All MY. 45 ity, if circumstances had not conspired against him, as circumstances sometimes ■will, when they ought to be conciliatory and accommodating. The force with which Tom fell upon the decayed boards was too much for them, and the unlucky adventurer became another victim to the treachery of rotten wood, which has hurled so many thousands from time into eternity. But Tom was not hurled so far as that on the present occasion, though for all practical purposes, for the suc- ceeding half hour, he might as well have been a hundred fathoms under water, or beneath the wreck of a twenty- ton locomotive at the bottom of the river. That cellar door was a bad place to fall through, which may be ac- counted for on the supposition that it was not made to fall through. In his downward progress, Tom had un- luckily struck his head against the side of the house ; and when he landed at the bottom of the stairs, he was ut- terly oblivious to all distinctions between treason and loyalty. Tom was not killed, T need not inform tlie ingenious reader, or this would otherwise have been the last chapter of the story ; but the poor fellow did not know whether he was dead or alive. In fact, he had not sense enough left to consider the question at all ; for there he lay, in the gloom of the trai- tor's dark cellar, silent and motionless — a solemn warn- ing to all our young readers of the folly and wickedness of indulging an illegal and sinful curiosity. It may seem 46 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR cruel and inhuman in us to forsake poor Tom in this sad plight ; but we must, nevertheless, go up stairs, in order that the sufferer may be duly and properly relieved in due and proper season. When the committee of three, appointed by the indig- nant loyalists of Pinchbrook, had completed their mis- sion in the house of the squire, like sensible men they proposed to leave ; and they so expressed themselves, through their spokesman, to the unwilling host. They put their hats on, and moved into the front entry, whither they were followed by the discomfited traitor. They had scarcely left the room before a tremendous crash greeted the ears of that portion of the family which remained in the apartment. This was the precise moment at which poor Tom Somers found himself on the bottom of the cellar ; or, to be entirely accurate, when he lost himself on the bottom of the cellar. Mrs. Pemberton heard the crash, and she very natu- rally concluded that the hour of retribution had actually come ; that the terrible mob had commenced the work of destruction. To her "fear-amazed" mind it seemed as though the whole side of the house had fallen in, and, for a moment, she confidently expected the chimneys would presently go by the board, and the roof come thundering doT\Ti upon the devoted heads of her outraged family. Perhaps, at that terrible moment, she wished her hus- band had been like other women's husbands, a true and TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 47 loyal man, cheering the old flag, and hurling harmless anathemas at the graceless rebels. But the chimney did not go by the board, nor the roof come thundering doAvn upon her head. There Avas not even a sound of destruction to be heard, and the sides of the house seemed to be lirni and decided in their inten- tion to maintain their perpendicular position. A few minutes later, when the committee announced to the mul- titude the success of their undertaking, and Fred had dis- played the flag from the -window, peal upon peal of stun- ning huzzas saluted her ears, and the awful peril of the preceding moments appeared to be averted. The squire, having closed and barricaded the broken door as well as he could, returned to the room, with curses deep and bit- ter upon his lips. He was not in the habit of swearing, but the magnitude of the occasion seemed to justify the innovation, and he swore hugely, roundly, awfully. He paced the room, ground his teeth, and stamped upon the floor. " Father, did you hear that terrible racket just now ? " asked Mrs. Pemberton. " I thought the side of the house had fallen in." "What racket?" demanded the squire, pausing in his excited walk. " I am sure they have broken something." *' It sounded as though it was down cellar," added Su- san, the daughter. 43 THE SOLDIER BOT, OR " Wliat Tv^as it ? " asked the father. " I don't know. It sounded like breaking boards. Do go down cellar, and find out what it was." " The scoundrels ! " roared the squire, as he rushed up and doTNTi the room again with the fury of a madman, " I'll teach them to break into my house ! " " Be calm, father," interposed Mrs. Pemberton, who, like most New England mothers, caUed her husband by the title which belonged exclusively to the children. "Calm? How can I be calm? Don't you hear the ruffians shout and yell ? " " They are only cheering the flag." The squire muttered a malediction upon the flag, which would probably have procured for him a coat of tar and feathers, if the mob had heard it. Mrs. Pem- berton was silent, for she had never seen her husband so moved before. She permitted him to pace the room in his frenzy till his anger had, in some measure, subsided. " I wish you would go do^vn cellar and find out what that noise was," said Mrs. Pemberton, as soon as she dared to speak again. "Perhaps some of them are down there now. Who knows but they will set the house afire." Squire Pemberton was startled by this suggestion, and, seizing the lamp, he rushed down cellar to prevent so dire a calamity. TOM SOMERS JN THE ARMY. 49 CHAPTER V. THE ATTIC CHA3IBER. QUIRE PE:MBERT0N rushed down cellar. He was very much excited, and forgot that he had been troubled with the rheumatism during the preceding winter. AYhen he opened the cellar door, he was considerably relieved to find that no brilliant light saluted his expectant gaze. It was as cold and dark in the cellar as it had been when he sorted over the last of his Warren Russets, a few davs before. v It was certain, therefore, that the house was not on fire ; and, invigorated by this thought, he descended the stairs. A strong current of fresh, cold air extin- guished the light he carried. As this was contrary to his usual experience when he went down cellar in the evening af\er an apple or a mug of cider, it assured him that there was a screw loose somewhere. Re- turning to the room above, he procured a lantern, and proceeded to the cellar again to renew his in- vestigations. 5 5Q THE SOLDIER BOY, OB The squire felt the cold blast of the April air, and immediately made his way to the cellar door, holding the lantern up as high as his head, to ascertain the nature of the mischief which the fanatical abolitionists had perpetrated. He saw that the cellar door was broken through. The rotten boards lay upon the steps, and with anoUier malediction upon the mob, he placed the lantern upon a barrel, and proceeded to re- pair the damage. As he stepped forward, he stum- bled against the body of the enterprising hero of this volume, who lay as calm and still as a sleeping child. The squire started -back, not a little alarmed at tlie sight of the motionless body. He felt as though a terrible retribution had fallen upon somebody, who had been killed in the act of attempting to destroy his property. Seizing his lantern, he retreated to the cellar stairs by which he had descended, and stood there* for a moment, his tongue paralyzed, and his knees smiting each other, in the agony of terror. We do not know what he was afraid of, but we suppose that instinctive dread which some people mani- fest in the presence of death, had completely overcome him. Certainly there was nothing to be afraid of, for a dead man is not half so likely to do a person an injury as a living one. But in a few minutes Squire Pemberton in some measure recovered his self- possession. TO.\r SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 51 '* There is a dead mau down here ! " he called up the staircase, in quaking tones. '• Mercy on us ! " exclaimed Mrs. Pemberton. *'Who is he?" " I don't know," replied the squire. " Look and see who it is, father," added Mrs. Pemberton. " Perhaps he isn't .dead." *' Stone dead," persisted the squire. " He fell into the cellar and broke his neck." *' Go and see who it is — will you?" " Well, you come down and hold the light," said the squire, who was not quite willing to say that he was scared out of his wits. Mrs. Pemberton descended the stairs, followed by Susan and Fred, who had just returned from the front window, where he had exhibited the flag, which the crowd outside were still cheering. ''Who can it be?" continued the old lady, as she slowly and cautiously walked forward to the scene of the catastrophe. " I don't know," replied the squire, in whom the presence of his family had spurred up a semblance of courage ; for if a man ever is brave, it is in the pres- ence of his wife and children. "If it is one of the ruffians who came here to destroy my house, I am glad he has lost his life in the attempt. It is a righteous retribution upon him for his wickedness." 52 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR Mrs. Pemberton took the lantern, and the squire, still excited and terrified, bent over the prostrate form of the young marauder. The victim lay upon his face, and the squire had to turn him over to obtain a view of his countenance. " I declare it is one of the Somers boys ! " exclaimed Mrs. Pemberton, as her husband brought the face of Thomas to her view. " The young villain ! " ejaculated the squire. '* It is lucky he was killed, or the house would have beeii in flames before this time. He is a desperate young scoundrel." *' But he isn't dead, father ! " said Mrs. Pemberton, as she knelt upon the cold ground, and felt tlio pidse of the insensible boy. " He is only stunned." " I am sorry for it. If it had killed him, it would have served him right," added the squire, who had sud- denly become as bold as a lion — as bold as two lions. '* Come, father, let's carry him up stairs, and put him to bed." " Do you think I am going to do any thing for this young scoundrel ! " exclaimed the squire, indignantly. " Why, he stoned Fred and me to-day, and stoned the horse, and made him run away and break the chaise all to pieces." " But we mustn't leave him here iu this situation. He may die." TOM SOMERS IX THE ARATY. 53 •" Let him die." "But what will folks say?" The more humane wife evidently understood the weak point of the squire, for nothing but slavery and the Southern Confederacy could have induced him to set at defiance the public sentiment of Pinchbrook. " Well, carry him up stairs then ; but he never will get out of my house till he has Ueen severely pun- ished for his crimes." The squire and Fred took hold of the senseless form of poor Tom, and carried it np stairs, where it was placed upon the sofa in the sitting room. Mrs. Pem- berton had the reputation of being " an excellent hand in sickness," and she immediately applied herself to the duty of restoring the sufferer to consciousness. " Don't you think you had better go after the doc- tor, father?" asked the good woman. "Some of his bones may be broken, or he may be injured inwardly." " I sliall not go for any doctor," snarled the squire. ••• Do you think I will trust myself out doors Avhile that howlinir mob is hanfrin that you would have given him leave to go, even if he had teased you for a month ? " asked John. *' Certainly I should," replied his mother, stopping short in the middle of the floor. " I'm readv and willing to have my boys fight for their country, but I don't 6* g^J THE SOLDIER BOY, OR want them to sneak off as though they had been rob- bing a hen-roost, and -vN^thout even saying good by to me." " If Tom were liere, do you mean to say you would let him go ? " demanded John, earnestly. '•' Certainly I do ; I mean so. But I don't think there is any need of boys like him going, when there are men enough to do the fighting." '■ You told Tom he shouldn't go." " Well, I didn't think he really meant it. If he had — What's that, John?" asked she, suddenly, as a noise at the window attracted her attention. '' Only the cat, mother." " If Thomas or you had asked me in earnest, and there was need of your going, I wouldn't have kept cither of you at home. I would go to the poorhouse first. My father and my brother both fought for their country, and my sons shall when their country Avants them." " Then you are Avilling Tom should go ? " " I am, but not to have him sneak off like a sheep- stealcr." " Three cheers for you, mother ! " shouted Thomas, as he threw iip the window at which he had been stand- ing for some ten minutes listening to this interesting conversation. TOM SOMJ-JJiS J\ THE ARMY. (jy '' Wlieio liave you been, Thomas?" exclaimed the delip:htcil mother. '• Open the door, Jack, and let me in, and I will tell you all about it," replied the absentee. '* Come in ; tlie door isn't locked," said John. He came in ; and what he had to tell will interest the reader as well as his mother and his brother. 63 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER VII A SHDNIGHT ADVENTUHE. /'^^ O'M vSOMERS was an enterprising young man, ■ I as our readers have already discovered ; and ^J^ wlien the door of the finished room in the attic of Squire Pemberton's house Avas fastened upon him, he was not at all disposed to submit to the fate which appeared to be in store for him. The idea of becoming a victim to the squire's malice was not to be entertained, and he threw himself upon the bed to devise some means bv which he mii^-ht make his escape. The prospect was not encouraging, for there was only one window in the chamber, and the distance to the ground was sugirestive of broken limbs, if not of a broken neck. Tom had read the Life of Baron Trenck, and of Stephen Burroughs, but the experience of neither of these wortliies seemed to be available on the present occasion. As the family had not yet retired, it would not be safe to commence operations for some hours. The TOM SOMEJiS jy THE AJiMY. 09 Stale, commonplace method of tyiug the sheets and blankets together, and thns forming a rope by which he could descend to the ground, occurred to him ; but he had not mueh confidence in the project, lie lay quietly on the bed till he heard the clocks on the churches at the Harbor strike twelve. It was time then, if ever, for the family to be asleep, and he decided to attempt an escape by another means which had been suggested to him. If it failed, he could then resort to the old-fashioned way of going down on the rope made of sheets and blankets. The apartment in which Tom was confined was not what people in the country call an " upright chamber." The sides of the room were about four feet in height ; and a section of the apartment would have formed one half of uu irregular octagon. In each side of the chamber there was a small door, opening into the space near the eaves of the house, which was used to store old trunks, old boxes, the disused spinning-wheel, and other lumber of this description. Tom had been in the attic before, and he remembered these doors, through one of which he now proposed to make his escape. When the clock struck twelve, he cautiously rose from tlie bed, and pulled off his boots, which a proper respect for his host or the bed had not prompted him to do before. The house was old, and the floors had a ten- dency to creak beneath his tread. With the utmost care, he crawled on his hands and knees to one of 70 THE SOLDI Ell BOY, O It the doors of the lumber hole, •which he succeeded in opening -without much noise. Making his -way in among tlic old boxes, trunks, and spinning-wheels, he "was fully embarked in his diffi- cult venture. Tlie dust which he stirred up in his progress produced an almost irresistible desire to sneeze, which Lord Dundreary might have been happy to indulge, but which might have been fatal to the exe- cution of Tom Somers's purpose. He rubbed his nose, and held his handkerchief over the intractable member, and succeeded in overcoming its dangerous tendency. His movements were necessarily very slow, for he was in constant dread lest some antiquated relic of the past should tumble over, and thus disturb the slumbers of the family who occupied the chambers below. But in spite of the perils and difficulties that en- vironed his path, there was something exciting and exliilarating in the undertaking. It was a real adven- ture, and, as such, Tom enjoyed it. As he worked his way through the labyrinth of antiquities, he could not but picture to himself the surprise and chagrin of Squire Pemberton, when he should come up to the attic chamber to ^\Teak his vengeance upon him. He could see the magnate of Pinchbrook start, compress his lips and clinch his fists, when he found the bird had flown. " Better not crow till I get out of the woods," said he to himself, while his imagination was still busy upon the agreeable picture. T O Jf !> U ME It S I A IH E A H M Y. J]^ Alter a series of trials and dilliculties which our space does not permit us to describe in full, Tom' emerged from the repository of antiquities, and stood in the open space in front of tlie linished chamber. AVith one boot in each hand, he feU liis way to the stairs, and descemlod to the entry over the front door. All ob- stacles now seemed to be overcome, for he had nothing to do but go down stairs and Avalk out. It often happens, amid the uncertainties of this unsta- bk^ world, that we encounter the greatest trials and dilli- ciUties precisely Avhere we expect to find none. As Tom walked along the entry, with one hand on the rail that protected the staircase to guide him, he struck his foot against the pole upon whicli Fred Pemberton had sus- pended the flag out of the window. It was very care- less of the squire, when he took the flag in, to leave the stick in that unsafe position, for one of his own family might have stumbled against it, and broken a leg or an arm, or possibly a neck ; and if it might have been a '• cause of offence " to one of the Pembertons, it cer- tainly laid a grievous burden upon the shoulders of poor Tom Somers. When the pole fell, it made a tremendous racket, ns all poles will Avhen they fall just at the moment when they ought to stand up, and be decent and orderly. This catastrophe had the effect to quicken the steps of the young man. He reached the stairs, and had comjoienced 72 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR a rapid descent, when the door of the squire*s room, "vvliich was ou the lower floor, opened, and Tom found himself flanked in that direction. " Who's there ? What's that ? " demanded the squire, in hurried, nervous tones. Tom was so impolite as to make no reply to these pressing interrogatories, but quickly retreated in the dii'ection from which he had come. '' Wife, light the lamp, quick," said the squire, in the hall belou'. Just then a door opened on the other side of the entry where Tom stood, and he caught a faint glimpse of a figure robed in Avhite. " Though it was the solemn hour of midnight, and Tom, I am. sorry to say, had read the Three Spaniards, and Mysteries of Udolpho, he rejected the suggestion that the " sheeted form " might be a ghost. "" "\^^lo's there ? " called the squire again. A romantic little scream from the figure in white assured Tom that Miss Susan Avas the enemy immedi- jitely on his front. Then he caught the glimmer of the light beloM', which Mrs. Pemberton had procured, and the race seemed to be up. Concealment was no longer « practicable, and he seized upon the happy suggestion that the window opening upon the portico over the front door w^as available as a means of egress. Springing to the window, he raised it with a prompt 703/ iiOM±:JiS JX THE ARMY. 73 and vigorous haud, and before tlie squire could ascend the stairs, he was upon the root' of the portico. Throwini,^ his boots down, he grasped tlit gutter, and " hung off." He was now on ttrra Jirnia^ and all his trials appeared to have reached a happy termination ; but here again he was doomed to^ disappointment. "• Bow, wow, wow-er, woo, row ! " barked and growled the squire's big bull dog, when he came to realize that some unusual ocem*rences were transpiring. The animal was a savage brute, and w^s kept chained in the barn during the day, and turned loose when the squire made his last visit to the cattle about nine in the evening. Tom was thoroughly alarmed when this new enemy confronted him ; but fortimately he had the self- possession to stand liis ground, and not attempt to run away, otherwise the dog would probably have torn him in pieces. '' Come here, Tige ! Poor fellow ! Come here ! He's a good fellow I Don't you know me, Tige ? " said Tom, whose only hope seemed to be in conciliation and com- promise. If Tige knew him, he appeared to be very unwilling to acknowledge the acquaintance under the present sus- picious circumstances, and at this unseemly hour. The brute barked, snarled, howled, and growled, and mani- fested as strong an indisposition to compromise as a South Carolina fire-eater. He placed himself in front of 7 74 Jm^ SOLDIER BOY, OH the hero of the night's adventure, as resohite and as in- tractable as though he had knoA\Ti all the facts in the ease, and intended to cany out to the letter the wishes of his master. Tom slowly retreated towards the garden fence, the dog still following him up. He had tried coaxing and conciliation, and they had failed. As he cautiously backed from the house, his feet struck against a heavy cart stake, which seemed to suggest his next resort. He was well aware that any quick movement on his part would cause the dog to spring upon him. Placing his toe under the stake, he raised it with liis foot, till he could reach it with his hand, keeping his gaze fixed upon the eyes of the dog, whicli glared like fiery orbs in the gloom of the hour. Tige saw the stick, and he appeared to have a whole- some respect for it — a sentiment inspired by sundry beatings, intended to cure a love of mutton on the hoof, or beef on the shelf. The brute retreated a few paces ; but at this moment Squu^e Pemberton appeared at the front door, with a lantern in his hand. He understood the " situation " at a glance. " Take him, Tige ! Stu' boy ! " shouted the squire. The dog snarled an encouraging reply to this sugges- tion, and moved up towards the fugitive. Tom's courage was equal to the occasion, and he leveEed a blow at the head of the bull dog, which, if it had hit him fairly, must Tom's Battle at Midnight. Page 75. TOM i>o.\rf-:iiS IS the army. 40 have smashed in his skull. As it was, the blow was a heavy one, and Tige retreated ; but the shouts of the squire rallied liiui, and he rushed forward to the on- sUiught again. Tom, as we have before liad occasion to suggest, was a master of strategy, and instead of another stroke at the head of his savage foe, with only one chance in ten of hitting the mark, he commenced swinging it vigorously to the right and left, as a mower does his scythe. His object was to hit the legs of the dog — a plan which was not entirely original with him, for he had seen it adopted with signal success by a fisherman at the Harbor. The consequence of this change of tactics was soon apparent, for Tige got a rap on the fore leg, which caused him to yelp with pain, and retire from the field. "While the dog moved off in good order in one direction, Tom effected an equally admirable retreat in the other direc- tion. On reaching the road, he pulled on his boots, which he had picked up after the discomfiture of his canine antagonist. Squire Pemberton still stood at the door trying to bring Tige to a sense of his duty in the trying emergency ; but the brute had more regard for his ovm shins than he had for the mandate of his master, and the victor was permitted to bear away his laurels without further opposition. AVhen he reached his father's house, supposing the 76 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR front door was locked, he went to the kitchen win- dow, where he had heard the patriotic remarks of his mother. Tom told his story in substance as we have related it. " Do you mean what you have said, mother ? " in- quired he, when he had finished his narrative. Mrs. Somers bit her lip in silence for a moment. " Certainly I do, Thomas," said she, desperately. It was half past one when the boys retired, but it was another hour before Tom's excited brain would permit him to sleep. His head was full of a big thought. TO^f SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 77 CHAPTER VIII. SIGNING Till-: TArEUS. / ^(^'IIQMAS went to sleep at last, and, worn out il by ^h® fatigue and excitement of the day, lie VlJ/ slept long and soundly. His mother did not call liini till eight o'clock, and it was nine before he reached the store of his employer, Avhere the recital of the adventure of the preceding night proved to be a sufficient excuse for his non-appearance at the usual hour. In the course of the week Captain Benson had pro- cured the necessary authority to raise a company for three years or for the war. When he exhibited his pa- pers, he found twenty persons ready to put down their names. A recruiting office was opened at the store, and every day added to tlie fist of brave and self-denying men who were rcadv to \io forward and fight the battles of liberty and union. The excitement in Pinchbrook was fanned by the news which each day brought of the zeal and madness of the traitors. Thomas had made up his mind, even before his mother 73 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR had been surprised into giving her consent, that he should go to the war. At the first opportunity, therefore, he wrote his name upon the paper, very much to the aston- ishment of Captain Benson and his employer. "How old are you, Tom?" asked the captain. " I'm in my seventeenth year," replied the soldier boy. " You are not old enough." " I'm three months older than Sam Thompson ; and you didn't even ask him how old he was." "He is larger and heavier than you are?" " I can't help that. I'm older than he is, and I think I can do as much in the way of fighting as he can." " I don't doubt that," added the captain, laughing. " Your affair with Squire Pemberton shows that you have pluck enough for any thing. I should be very glad to have you go ; but Avhat does your father say ? " " He hasn't said any thing. He isn't at home. He went away before Sumter was fired upon by the rebels." " True — I remember. "What does your mother say?" " O, she is willing." "Are you sure, Tom?" " Of course. I am. Suppose you write something by which she can give her consent, and she will sign it." TOM SOMEJiS JX THE ARMY. 79 Captain Benson drew up the document, and -when Tom went home to dinner, he presented it to his mother for her signature. *" 1 hope you won't back out, mother," said he, as -he put on her spectacles, and proceeded to ascertain the contents of the document. "Back out of what, Thomas?" " I've signed the muster roll, and I belong to Cap- tain Benson's company now." "• You ! " exclaimed Mrs. Somers, lowering the pa- })t'r, and gazing earnestly into the face of the young man, to discover whether he was in earnest. '' Yes, mother ; you said you were willing, and I have signed the papers ; but Captain Benson Avants your consent in writing, so that there shall be no mis- take about it." The mother read the paper in silence and sadness, for the thought of having her noble boy exposed to the perils of the camp and the marcli, the skirmish and the battle, was terrible, and nothing but the most exalted patriotism could induce a mother to give a son to his country. " I don't want to sign this paper, Thomas," said she, when she had finished reading it. " Have you forgot what you said the other night, mother?" *• No, I haven't forgot it, and I feel now just as 1 80 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR did then. If there is any real need of your going, I am willing you should go." "Need? Of course there is need of soldiers. The President wasn't joking when he called for seventy-live thousand men." '' But there are enough to go without you." " That's just what every body might say, and then there wouldn't be any body to go." " But you are young, and not very strong." " I'm old enough, and strong enough. When I can get a day to myself, I don't think it's any great hardship to carry father's heavy fowling-^ece from sunrise to sunset ; and I guess I can stand it to carry a musket as long as any of them." " You are only a boy." " I shall be a man soon enough." " When you have gone, John will want to go too." " No, mother, I don't want to go into the army," said John, with a sly wink at his brother. " I shall nQver be a soldier if I can help it." " What am I going to -do, if you all go off and leave me?" added Mrs. So'mers, trying hard to keep down a tear which was struggling for birth in her fountain of sorrows. " I don't think you will want for any thing-, mother. I'm sure I wouldn't leave you, if I thought you would. I don't get but tAvo dollars and a half a TOM SOMEliS IS THE AJiAfY 81 week iu the store, and I shall have eleven dollars a month in the army, and it won't cost me any thino- for board or clothes. 1 will send every dollar I <'et home to yon." *' Von are a good boy, Thomas," replied Mrs. Somers, unable auy longer to restrain the tear. *• I know you and John both will do every thing von can lor me. 11' your father was only at home, I slionid leel ditierent about it." '• lie would believe in my lighting lor my country, if he were here." '' 1 know he would," said Mrs. Somers, as she took the pen which Thomas handed her, and seated her- self at the table. " If you are determined to go, I suppose you will go, whether I am willing or not." " No, mother, I will not," added Thomas, de- cidedly. '• I shouldn't have signed the muster roll if you hadn't said you ^vtre willing. And if you Ssay now that you won't consent, I will take my name oft' the paper." "But you want to go — don't yon?" " I do ; there's no mistake about that : but I won't go if you are not willinf>-." Mrs. Somers wrote her name upon the paper. It was a slow and difficult operation to her, and during the time she was thus occupied, the rest of the family watched her in silent anxiety. Perhaps, if she liad 82 '^n^ SOLDIER HOY, on not committed herself on the eventful night when she fully believed that Thomas had run away and joined the army, she might have offered more and stronger objections than she now urged. But there was a vein of patriotism in her nature, which she had inherited irom her father, who had fought at Bunker Hill, Brandywine, and Germantown, and which had been exemplified in the life of her brother ; and this, more than any other consideration, induced her to sign the paper. Thousands of loving and devoted mothers have given their sons to their country in the same holy enthusi- asm that inspired her. She was not_a solitary instance of this noble sacrifice, and if both her sons had been men, instead of boys, she would not have interposed a single objection to their departure upon a mission so glorious as that to which Thomas had now devoted himself. " There's my name, Thomas," said his mother, as she took off her spectacles. '" I've done it, and you liave my free consent. You've always been a good boy, and I liope you will always be a good soldier." " I shall always try to do my duty, mother ; ar.d if ever I turn my back to a rebel, I hope you'll dis- own me." " Good, Tom ! " exclaimed John, who had been deeply interested in the event of the hour. Tt)\r sn\rKns' /.v rif: Air\ry. ^3 '' "Well, Thoinas, I'd rather face two rebels than that bull clog you fit with t'other uight," added gran'ther Greene. " You are as bold as a lion, Thomas." ''Do you think I fan stand it, gran'ther?" added Tom, with a smile. "Stand it? Well, Thomas, it's a hard life to be a soldier, and I know something about it. When we marched from " " Dinner's ready," interposed Mrs. Somers, for gi'an'ther Greene had marched that march so many times that every member of the family knew it by heart. " There's one good thing about it, Tom," said John : " you have got a first-rate captain." " I'm thankful you are going with Captain Benson, for if there ever was a Christian in Pinchbrook, he is the man," added Mrs. Somers. " And all the company will be your own friends and neighbors," said gran'ther Greene ; " and that's something, I can tell you, I know something about this business. When we marched from " "Have some more beans, brother?" asked Mrs. Somers. "You will be among your friends, Thomas, as gran'ther says." "That's a great thing, I can tell you," added the veteran. " Soldiers should stick together like brothers, and feel that they are fighting for each other, as well 34 THE SOLDIER BOY, Oil as for the country. Then, wlien you're sick, you want friends. Wiien we marched from Sackett's Harbor, ^ there was a young feller " "Have some more tea, brother?" '" Part of a cup, Nancy," replied the old man, who never took offence even when the choicest stories of his military experience were nipped in the bud. After dinner, Thomas hastened back to the store. That day seemed to him like an epoch in his existence, as indeed it was. He felt that he belonged to his country now, and that the honor of that old flag, which had been insulted by traitors, was committed to his keeping. He was taking up the work where his grand- father had left it. He was jroina; fortli to fiirht for his country, and the thought insj^ired him with a noble and generous enthusiasm, before which all the aspira- tions of his youth vanished. As he jDassed the house of Squire Pemberton, he bestowed a pitying reflection upon the old traitor ; but his mind was so full of the great event which was dawning upon him, that he did not even think of the exciting incidents which had occurred there. He had neither seen nor heard any thing of the squh'e since he had escaped from the attic chamber. Just beyond the squire's house he met Captain Barney, who was riding up to the town hall. " AVhat's this I hear of vou, Tom?" demanded the TOM SOMEIiS I\ THE AliMY. 35 captain, a?* he reined in his horse. " They say you have joined tlie company." *' Yes, sir. 1 liave." " Bravo ! my boy. Good on your head ! You ought to go out as a brigadier general. What does your mother say ? " " I have her vv-ritten consent in my pocket." " All right. God bless you, my boy ! " said the old salt, as he started his horse. '' Thank you, sir. There's only one thing that troubles me." ^ ''Eh? AVhat's that, my boy?" demanded Captain Barney, as he reined up the horse again. '' I suppose you have heard of my scrape at Squire Pemberton's the other night." " Yes ; and shiver my timbers if I didn't "vvant to keelhaul the old traitor when I heard of it." " I don't care any thing about the scrape, sir ; only I'm afraid the squire will bother my mother when I'm gone," said Thomas, with some diffidence. " If he does, he'll settle the matter with Jack Bar- ney," replied tlie captain, decidedly. " My father may never come back, you know, and if he does he will be a beggar. lie owes the squire a note, wliicli will be due in June." '' I'll pay it myself! " roared Captain Barney. "Go and fight for your country, Tom, like a man. I'll 8 3g- THE SOLDIER BOY, Oil call and see your mother once a week, or every day in the week, if you say so. She shall not want for any thing as long as I have a shot in the locker." " Thank you. Captain Barney ; thank you, sir." " I'll take care of your mother, my lad, and I'll take care of the squire. He shall not foreclose that mortgage, Tom. Don't bother your head about any of those things. You're a good boy, Tom, and I'll keep every thing all right at home." " Thank you, sir," repeated the soldier boy, as Cap- tain Barney started his horse again. The, captain was a retired shipmaster, of ample means, and Tom knew that he was not only able, but willing, to do aU he had promised. His heart was lifjhter ; a load had been removed from his mind. TOM SO ME lis IX THE A i: M 1' . S^ CHAPTER IX. THE DEPARTUl^E. C^^ T the time of which we write, recruiting officers h\ were not very particular in regard to the age (^^\' of those whom they received into the volunteer army. If the young man seemed to have the requisite physical qualifications, it was of little consequence what his aire was; and Tom Somers was tall enough and stout enough to make a very good soldier. Captain Benson examined the certificate brought to him by the young recruit, not, however, because it was deemed a necessary legal form, but because he was acquainted with his father and mother, and would not willingly have done any thing to displease them. Th- matter, therefore, was disposed of to the satisfaction of ail the parties concerned, and Tom actually commenced his career as a soldier boy. lie immediately resigned his situation in the store, for the company now num- bered forty men, not half a dozen of whom had any knowledge whatever of military drill. As the volunteers of the Pinclibrook company could 38 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR ill afford to lose the time devoted to drill before they should be mustered into the service of the United States, the town voted to pay each man fifteen dollars a month for three months. This generous and patriotic action of the town rejoiced the heart of Tom Somers, for his mother actually needed the pittance he had earned at the store. Mrs. Somers had heard nothing from her hus- band ; but the destruction of the Gosport Navy Yard, and the seizure of several northern vessels in the har- bor of Norfolk, left her little to hope for in that direc- tion. Suddenly an impregnable wall seemed to rise up between the North and the South, and she not only feared that Captain Somers had lost all his worldly pos- sessions, but that he would hardly be able to escape him- self from the fiery furnace of secession and treason. To her, therefore, the future looked dark and forbid- dino-. She foresaw tliat she and her family would be subjected to the pressure of want, or at least be depend- ent upon the kindness of friends for support. She had freely stated her fears to her children, and fully exhibited the insufficiency of the family resources. Tlie vote of the tOAvn was a perfect godsend to Tom, and a fat legacy from a rich relative would not have kindled a stronger feeling of gratitude in his soul. For the next five weeks, Tom was employed forenoon, afternoon, and evening, in the drill, and he soon made himself proficient. The company was recruited nearly TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. ^9 up to it3 maximum number, and was then attacl^ed to tiie — th regiment, which had just been formed and ordered to Fort Warren. On the 27th day of May, the company, escorted by the patriotic citizens of Piuchbrook, marched to Bos- ton, and Tom took a sorrowful farewell of his moth- er, his brother and sisters, and a score of anxious friends. *' Now don't let the rebels hit you in the backbone, Thomas," said gran'ther Greene, as he shook the hand of the soldier boy. " No, gran'ther ; if I can't fight, I won't run away," replied Tom. " You've got good blood in your veins, my boy : don't disgrace it. I don't know as you'll ever see me again, but God bless you, Thomas ; " and the old man turned away to hide the tears which began to course down his wrinkled cheek. " Be a good boy, Thomas," added his mother. '* I will, mother." '-'- And remember what I've been telling you. I'm not half so much afraid of your being killed by a bullet, as I am of your being ruined by bad men." " You needn't fear any thing of that kind, mother." '* I shall pray that you may be saved from your friends as well as from your enemies. We shall see you again before you go off, I hope." 8* DO THE SOLDIER BOY, OR " Yes, mother ; we shall not be sent south yet." " Don't forget to read youi- Testament, Thomas," said Mrs. Somers. " I -won't, mother," replied the soldier boy, as he again shook hands with all the members of the family, kissed his mother and his sisters, and hitching up his knapsack, took his place in the ranks. His heart seemed to be clear up in his throat. During the tender scene he had just passed through, he had man- fully resisted his inclination to Aveep, but he could no longer restrain the tears. Suddenly they came like a flood bursting the gates that confined it, and he choked and sobbed like a little girl. He leaned upon his mus- ket, covering his face with his arm. " It's a hard case," said private Hapgood, who stood next to him in the ranks. "I didn't think it would take me down like this," sobbed Tom. " Don't blubber, Tom. Let's go off game," added Ben Lethbridge, who stood on the other side of him. " I can't help it, Ben." " Yes, you can — dry up ! Soldiers don't cry, Tom." " Yes, they do, my boy," said Hapgood, who was a little old man, nearly ten years beyond the period of exemption from military duty. " I don't blame Tom for crying, and, in my opinion, he'll fight all the better for it." TOM SOMLBS IX THE ARMY. •Jl " Perhaps he will, old uu ; but 1 don't think much of a soldier that blubbers like a baby. I hope he won't run away when he sees the rebels coming," sneered Ben. '' If he does, he'll have a chance to see how thick tlic heels of your boots are," answered the old man. ''What do you mean by that, old un?" demanded Ben. ** Attention — company ! Shoulder — arms ! Forward — march ! " said the captain ; and the discussion was prevented from proceeding any fm-ther. The band, which was at the head of the citizens' col- umn, struck up an inspiring march, and Toin dried his tear^ The escort moved oiF, followed by the company. They passed the little cottage of Captain Somers, and Tom saw the whole family except John, who was in the escort, standing at the front gate. The old soldier swung his hat, Tom's sisters and his mother waved their hand- kerchiefs ; but when they saw the soldier boy, they had to use them for another purpose. Tom felt another upward pressure in the region of the throat ; but this time he choked down his rising emotions, and saved himself from the ridicule of his more callous companion on the left. In violation of military discipline, he turned his head to take one last, fond look at the home he w^as leaving behind. It miglit be the last time he should ever gaze oil tliat 1()\ (d spot, now a thousand times more dear tlian 92 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR ever before. Never had he realized the meaning of home ; never before had he felt how closely his heart's tendrils were intwined about that hallowed place. Again, in spite of his firmness and fortitude, and in spite of the sneers of Ben Lethbridge, he felt tlie hot tears sliding down his cheek. TThen he reached the brow of the hill which would soon hide the little cottage from his view, perhaps for- ever, he gazed behind him again, to take his last look at the familiar spot. His mother and his sister still stood at the front gate watching the receding column in which the son and the brother was marching away to peril and perhaps death. " God bless my mother ! God bless them all ! " were the involuntary ejaculations of the soldier boy, as he turned away from the hallowed scene. But the memory of that blessed place, sanctified by the presence of those loving and devoted ones, was shrined in the temple of his heart, ever to go with him in camp and march, in the perils of battle and siege,- to keep him true to his God, true to himself, and true to those whom he had left behind him. That last look at home and those that make it home, like the last fond gaze we bestow on the loved and the lost, was treasured up in the garner of the heart's choicest memories, to be recalled in the sol- emn stillness of the midnight vigil, amid the horrors of the battle-field when the angry strife of arms had TOM so.\ij:ns jy the ahmy. yg ceased, and in the gloom of the soldier's sick bed when no mother's hand was near to lave the fevered brow. The moment when he obtained his last view of the liome of his childhood seemed like the most eventfid jieriod of his existence. His heart grew big in his bo>oni, and yet not big enough to contain all he felt. He wept again, and his tears seemed to come from deeper down than his (iy*i&. He did not hear the inspir- ing strains of the band, or the cheers that greeted the company as they went forth to do and die for their coun- try's imperilled cause. ••Blubbering again, Tom?" sneered Ben Lethbridge. '• I thought you was more of a man than that, Tom Somers." *' I can't help it, Ben," replied Tom, vainly struggling to subdue his emotions. ••• Better go back, then. "We don't want a great baby in the ranks." '' It's nateral, Ben," said old Hapgood. " He'll get over it when he sees the rebels." " Don't believe he will. I didn't think you were such a great calf, Tom." '' Sliet up, now, Ben," interposed Hapgood. " I'll bet my life he'll stand fire as well as you will. I've been about in the world some, and I reckon I've as good an idee of tliis business as you have. Tom's got a heart under his ribs." 94 THE SOLDIER HOY, OR • " I'll bet he rims away at tiie tir.-y to Boston, marched to Camp Cameron. Here the '' little colonel" displayed his energy and military skill to much greater advantage than when within the narrow confines of the fort. The men were not only care- fully and persistently drilled, but they were educated, as far as the circumstances would permit, for the arduous duties of a campaign. Tom Somers had already begun to feel a soldier's pride in his new situation ; and though he found that being a soldier boy was not always the easiest and the pleasantest thing in the world, he bore his trials with philosophical patience and fortitude, and made the most of whatever joys the circumstances placed within his reach. Others grumbled, but he did not. He declared that he had enlisted for the war, and meant to take things as they came. It was not exactly agreeable to stand on guard for two hours, on a cold, rainy night ; but grum- 108 '^^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR biiug would not make it any the more agreeable, and only made the grumbler discontented and unhappy. It did not look like "• the pomp and circumstance of Avar," and no doubt most of the boys in the Pinchbrook com- pany would have been better satisfied in their own houses in " the village by the sea." But most of these men had left their happy homes under the inspiration of the highest and truest motives. They were going forth to fight the battles of their imperilled country, and this reflection filled them with a heroism which the petty trials and discomforts of the camp could not impair. While the regiment was at Camp Cameron, the state colors and a standard, procured by the liberality of its friends, were presented ; and the patriotic speeches deliv- ered on this occasion made a deep impression upon the mind and heart of the soldier boy. To him they were real — perhaps more real than to those who uttered the burning words. He was in a situation to feel the full force of the great sacrifice which the soldier makes for his country. He devoted himself, heart and soul, to the cause ; and what was but an idle sentiment in the mind of the flowery speech-makers, was truth and soberness to him who was to meet the foe at the cannon's mouth and at the bayonet's point. "'"We are off on the 29th," said old Hapgood, one evening, as he entered the barrack where Tom was writ- ins a letter to his mother. TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 109 " Good I I am glad to hear it. I was just telliug my mother that I hoped we should not have to stay much longer in tliis place," replied Tom. *' I think we are having an easy time of it here," added the veteran. '' When you find out what hunger and fatigue mean, you will learu to be contented with such a place as this." ••I'm contented enough; but I want to get into the field, and have something done." •• Time enough, my boy. I used to feel just so, Tom, when I went to Mexico ; but after a while I got so I didn't care what we did or where we went." Tom added a postscript to his letter, informing his mother of the time fixed for the departure of the regi- ment. The intelligence in this instance proved to be correct, for on the appointed day the little colonel marched his command into the city, where it ^vas duly embarked on the cars for New York. It vras a day of excitement, for the streets of the city were thronged Avith people, whose cheers and applause were the benison with which the regiment went forth to db and to die for the nation. Tom was delighted with this Marm recep- tion, but more by meeting his mother and his brother and sisters at the station. It was a joyous and yet a sad meeting. Mrs. Somers wept ; and what mother vvould not weep to see her son gp forth to encounter the perils of the battle-field, and the greater perils of the camp ? 10 IIQ THE SOLDIER DOT, OR It was a sad parting ; and many a mother's heart was torn with anguish on that day, when she pressed her noble boy to her bosom, for the last .time, as she gave him to his country. Cold, stern men, who had never wept before, wept then — the flesh that was in their stony hearts yielded its unwilling tribute to nature and affection. '* All aboard I " shouted the officers, when the train was ready to depart. " God bless you, my boy ! " sobbed Mrs. Somers, as she kissed her son. " Be good and true, and don't for- get to read your Testament." " Good by, mother," was all that Tom could say, as he grasped his musket, which John had been holding for him, and rushed into the ear. The train moved off amid the cheers of the thou- sands who had gathered to witness their departure. At this moment, more than ever before, the soldier boy realized what he had done when he entered the service. He listened to the shouts of the multitude, but he was sad and silent. Tie sank into his seat, and gave himself up to the anguish of the hour. Ou and on dashed the train, and his thoughts still dwelt upon the home and the mother he had left behind him. Our readers can better imagine than we can describe the feelings of the soldier boy during that long night. The regiment arrived in New York at half past ten in Toyr soMERS IX THE Aii.ur. m the forenoon of the following day, and was escorted up Broadway by the Sons of Massachusetts. At the Park, it was warmly welcomed by the President of the Sons, and as the little colonel was a better soldier than a >peech-maker, the response was made by the surgeon. By this time, Tom was able to enter into the spirit of the occasion, and the flattering ovation bestowed upon the regiment was a source of personal pride and satisfac- tion. The little colonel's command was declared to be the best drilled and most soldierly body of men* which had yet departed for the battle-fields of the republic. , Tlie great city was full of wonders to the soldier boy, and during the few hours he remained there, he was in a constant whirl of excitement. If the mission before him had been less grand and sublime, he could have wished to spend a few days in exploring the wonders of the great metropolis ; but the stupendous events that loomed up in the future, prophetic even to the inexpe- rienced eye of youth, engrossed all his thoughts. He partook of the bountiful collation in the Park, and was content to march on to scenes more thrillin": and excitini? than the tumult of the busv citv. The regiment took a steamer, at half past four, for Elizabethport, and tlicnce proceeded by railroad to Wash- ington, by the way of Ilarrisburg. Some portions of the journey were performed under the most trying circum- stances. The men were crowded, like sheep, into unsuit- 112 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR able cars, so that not only were they subjected to many needless discomforts, but their very lives were endan- gered. On the way, two men were crowded out of a car, and, for a time, were supposed to have been killed. On the 2d of July, they arrived at "Washington, and Tom had an opportunity to see the " city of magnificent distances," of which he had heard so much. The resi- ment marched from the station, through Pennsylvania Avenue, to their camp gi'ound in the rear of the White House. They were received with enthusiasm by the people, but the miserable uniforms with which they had been supplied, now faded and dilapidated, with the finish- ing touch of destruction given to them by the perilous journey they had made, gave the politicians their first lesson on the worthlessness of " shoddy." The regiment entered the grounds of the White House, and as it passed up the avenue, President Lincoln ap- peared in front of his mansion. The boys greeted him with a volley of stunning cheers, Avliich the President acknowledged by a series of bows, which were not half so ungraceful as one might have expected after reading the descriptions of him contained in the newspapers. To Tom Somers the President was a great institution, and he could scarcely believe that he was looking upon the chief magistrate of this great nation. He was filled with boyish wonder and astonishment ; but, after all, he was forced to admit that the President, though a tall TOM SO ME as IX THE AliMY. l\^ specimen of hiimanit}', looked very much like the rest of maukiml — to borrow a phrase from one of his illus- trious predecessors. Tom was too tired to wonder long at the grandeur of the Capitol, and the simple magnificence of the President. The tents were pitched, and the weary men were allowed a season of rest. In a couple of days, however, our^ soldier boy was " as good as new." *' Come, Tom, it is about time for you to see some- thing of tlie city," said Ben Lethbridgo, one afternoon, after the regiment had become fairly settled in its new quarters. '• I should like to take a tramp. There are lots of con- gn^essmen here, and I should like to know what they look like," replied Tom. " I haven't been outside the lines since we came here." '* I l^ave ; and I'm going again ! Fred and I mean to have a good time to-day. Will you go?" " Have you got a pass?" *' A pass ! AVhat a stupid ! What do you want of a pass? You can't get one. They won't give any." ** Tlien we can't go, of coui-sc." *' Bah ! AVhat a gi-cat calf you arc ! Don't you want to cry again?" " Ben, you needn't say cnj to me again as long as you live," add^d Tom. " If you do, I'll give you something to cry for.'* 10* 114 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR Tom did not like the style of remark which the other had adopted. He was angry, and, as he spoke, his fist involuntarily clinched, and his eye looked fierce and de- termined. " Come, come, Tom ; don't bristle up so. If you are a man, just show that you are, and come along with us." " I say, Ben, I want to know who's a baby or a calf, you or I, before we go. I won't stand any more of your lip." "Will you go with us?" demanded Ben, who was rather disposed to dodge the issue. " "What do you mean by calling me a calf and a baby? And this isn't the first time you've done it." " Don't you know that every man in the regiment has been all over the city, and without any pass ? "NVhen I ask vou to go, you begin to talk about a pass." '' I choose to obey orders," replied Tom. " O, you daresn't go with us." " Come along ! " said Tom, who had not yet learned to bear the taunts of his companion. " Get your pail." Tom got his pail, and was immediately joined by Fred and Ben, each of whom was also supplied Avith a pail. There Avas no Avater to be had Avithin the camp ground, and the men Avere obliged to bring it in pails from the hydrants in the street. A pail, therefore, AA'as quite as good as a Avritten document to enable them ^ pass the £ruard. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. J 15 The party thus provided had no difficulty in passing the sentinels. At a convenient place outside the line, they concealed the pails, and, for three hours, roamed at will over the city. " Now, Tom, you wanted to see the congressmen ? " said Ben, after they had ''done" the city pretty thor- oughly. ** Yes, but I have seen them at the Capitol." '* But don't you want to get nearer to them, and hear them talk?" - AVell, I should like to." '• Come with us, then." Ben led the way down the avenue, and entered a building not far from the railroad station. After passing through a long, narrow entry, they ascended a flight of stairs, at tlie head of which the conductor gave two raps. The door was opened by a negro, and they were invited to enter. At a table in the middle of the room was seated a foppish-looking man, who held in his hand a silver box. As he turned it, Tom saw that it contained a pack of cards. *' Where are your congressmen?" asked the soldier boy, whose eyes had been opened by the appearance of the cards. " They will be here pretty soon," replied Ben. The foppish man looked at his watch, and declared they would come in the course of five or ten minutes. IIQ THE SOLDIER BOY, OR He then took the cards out of the box, and, after shuf- fling them, returned them to their place. Fred placed a " quarter" on the table ; the gambler put another by its side, and drew out a card from the silver case. Tom did not understand the game ; but his companion put the quarters in his "pocket. " See that, Tom ! " said he. '' Got any money ? " " If I have I shall keep it." " Put down a quarter, and make another." " No, sir ! I'm no gambler I " replied Tom, with emphasis. " Quite respectable, I assure you," added the blackleg at the table. " I'm going," said Tom, decidedly. " Baby ! " sneered Ben. " Afraid to play I " " I won't play ! I'm going." The negro opened the door, and*he passed out. Con- trary to his expectation, he was followed by Fred and Ben. '• Baby is afraid of cards ! " sneered Ben, as they passed through the long entry. " Afraid of cards, but not afraid of you," replied Tom, as he planted a heavy blow between the eyes of his com- panion. Ben Lethbridge returned the blow, and it cost him another, and there was a prospect of quite a lively skirmish in the entry ; but Fred Pemberton interposed TOM SOMEHS I.\ Tin: A It M Y . jj^ his good offices, and effected a compromise, which, like most of the political compromises, was only the post- ponement of the conflict. ''I told you not to call me 'baby,' again," said Tom, as they passed out of the building. •• 1 will convince you before I am done that I'm not a baby." Ben found it convenient to offer no reply to this plain statement of facts, and the three soldiers made their way back to the camp, and, having obtained their pails and fdled them with w^ater at the hydrants, they passed the guard without a question. llg THE SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER XII. ON TO RICHMOND. ^i T SO happened that Ben Lethbridge, probably ^1 satisfied that it was not the fist of a baby which had partially blackened both of his eyes, and produced a heavy pain under his left ear, did not demand the satisfaction which was needed to heal his wounded honor. The matter was duly dis- cussed in the tent of Tom's mess ; but our soldier boy, while he professed to be entirely satisfied, was willino- to meet Ben at such time and place as he desired, and finish up the afifair. . The other party was magnanimous, and declared that he too was satisfied ; and old Hapgood thought they had better proceed no further with the afifair, for both of them might be arrested for disorderly conduct. " I am satisfied, Ben ; but if you ever call me a baby or a calf again, it will all have to be settled over again," said Tom, as he laid aside his musket, which he had been cleaninor during the conversation. TOM SOMhUS y-V J U £ A li M 1 . |]^9 *' I dou't want to quarrel with you, Tom," replied Ben, " but I wish you would be a little more like the rest of the fellows." " What do you mean bv that ? I am like the rest of the fellows." *' You wouldn't play cards." " Yes, I will play cards, but I won't gamble ; and there isn't many fellows in the company that will." " That's so," added Ilap^ood. " i know all about that business. When I went to Mexico, I lost my money as fast as I got it, playing cards. Don't gamble, boys." •^ 1 won't, for one," said Tom, with emphasis. ''Are you going to set up for a soldier-saint, too?" sneered Ben, turning to the old man. " I'm no saint, but I've lamed better than to gamble." " I think you'd better stop drinking too," added Ben. "Come, Ben, you arc meaner than dirt," said Tom, indignantly. Old Ilapgood was a confirmed toper. The people in Pinchbrook said he was a good man, but, they used to add, with a shrug of the shoulders, •' pity he drinks." It was a sad pity, but he seemed to have no power over his appetite. The allusion of Ben to his be- setting sin was cruel and mortifying, for the old man had certainly tried to reform, and since the regiment 120 ^-H^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR left Boston, he had not tasted the intoxicating cup. He had declared before the jness that he had stopped drinking ; so his resolution was known to all his companions, though none of them had much confi- dence in his ability to carry it out. '• I didn't speak to you, Tom wSomers," said Ben, sharply. '^ You said a mean thing in my presence." " By and by we shall be having a prayer meeting in our tent every night." '^ If you are invited I hope you will come," added Tom, " for if prayers will do any body any good, they won't liurt you." " If you will take care of yourself, and let me alone, it's all I ask of you." " I'm asrreed." This was about the last of the skirmishinsc be- tween Tom and Ben. The latter was a little dis- posed to be a bully ; and from the time the company left Pinchbrook, be had been in the habit of calling Tom a baby, and other opprobrious terms, till the subject of his sneers could endure them no longer. Tom had come to the conclusion that he could ob- tain respectful treatment only by the course he had adopted. Perhaps, if he had possessed the requisite patience, he might have attained the same result by a less repulsive and more noble policy. TOM SOMEHS IS THE ARMY. 121 The regiment remained in Washington about a fort- nJLjlit. The capital was nq longer considered to be' in danger. A large body of troops had been massed in and around the city, and the rebels' boast that they would soon capture AVashiugton was no longer heeded. Fear and anxiety had given place to hope and expectation. " On to Richmond ! " was the cry sounded by the newspapers, and repeated by the people. The army ol* newly-fledged soldiers was burning with eagerness to be led against the rebels. "On to Richmond!" shouted citizens and soldiers, statesmen and politicians. Some cursed and some deprecated the cautious slow- ness of the old general who had never been defeated. '' On to Richmond ! " cried the boys in Tom's regi- ment, and none more earnestly than he. " Don't hurry old Scott. He knows what he is about. I know something about this business, for I've seen old Scott where the bullets flew thicker 'n snow flakes at Christmas," was the oft-repeated reply of Hap- good, the veteran of Company K. The movement which had been so long desired and expected was made at last, and the regiment struck its tents, and proceeded over Long Bridge into Virginia. The first camp was at Shuter's Hill, near Alexandria. '' Xow we are in for it," said Tom Somers, when the mess gathered in their tent after the camp was formed. " I hope we shall not remain here long." 11 J22 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR " Don't be in a hurry, my brave boy," said old Hap- good. " We may stop here a month." " I hope not." " Don't hope any thing about it, Tom. Take things as they come." But the impatience of the soldier boy -svas soon re- lieved ; for at daylight on the morning of the IGth of July, the regiment was routed out, the tents vrerc struck, and at nine o'clock ihcy took up iho line cf march to the southward. It was "on to Richmond," in earnest, now, and merrily marched the men, who little knew what trials and sufferings, what scenes of blood and death, lay in their path. The little colonel's command had been put in Frank- lin's brigade, which formed a part of Heintzelman's division ; but little did Tom or his fellow-soldiers know of any thing but their owti regiment. The " sacred soil " of Virginia seemed to be covered with Federal soldiers, and whichever Avay he turned, col- umns of troops might be seen, all obedient to the one grand impulse of the loyal nation — ''On to Ricli- mond." The great wagons, gun carriages, and caissons roll- ing slowly along, the rattling drums, with here and there the inspiring strains of a band, the general officers, with their staffs, were full of interest and excitement to the soldier boy ; and though the business before him TO.\r SOMKRS IS TliK ARMY. 123 was stern and terrible, yet it seemed like some great pageant, moving grandly along to celebrate, rather than will, a glorious triumph. The novelty of the movement, however, soon wore awav, and it required only a few hours to convince the inexperienced soldiers in our regiment that it was no idle pageajat in which they were engaged. The short intervals of rest which were occasionally allowed were moments to be appreciated'. All day long they toiled upon their weary way, praying for the night to come, with its coveted hours of repose. The night did come, but it brought no rest to the weary and foot- sore soldiers. Tom was terribly fatigued. His knapsack, which had been light upon his buoyant frame in the mom- in"", now seemed to weigh two hundred pounds, while his musket had grown proportionally heavy. Ilcur after hour, in the darkness of that gloomy night, he trudged on, keeping his place in the ranks with a resolution which neither the long hours nor the weary miles could break down. " I can't stand this much longer," whined Ben Lcth- bridge. " I shall drop pretty soon, and die by the roadside." '^ No, you won't," added Hapgood. *' Stick to it a little wiiile longer ; never say die." "I can't stand it." 124 '^^^^ SOLDIER jjoy, on " Yes, you can. Only think you can, and you can," added the veteran. " What do tliey think we Jire made otf ? We can't march all day and all night. I wish I was at home." " I wish I hadn't come," said Fred Pemberton. " Cheer up ! cheer up, boys. Stick to it a little longer," said the veteran. It was three o'clock the next morning before they were permitted to halt, when the boys rolled themselves up in their blankets, and dropped upon the ground. It was positKe enjoyment to Tom, and he felt happy ; for rest was happiness when the body was all worn out. A thought of the cottage and of his mother crossed his mind, and he dropped asleep to dream of the joys of home. Short and sweet was that blessed time of rest ; for at four o'clock, after only one brief hour of repose, the regiment was turned out again, and resumed its weary march to the southward. But that short interval of rest was a fountain of strength to Tom, and without a murmur he took his place by the side of his grum- bling companions. Ben and Fred were disgusted with the army, and wanted to go back ; but that was im- possible. Again, for weary hours, they toiled upon the march. They passed Fairfax, and encamped near the railroad TOM SOMEBS IX THE ARMY. 125 Station, where a full night's rest was allowed them. By the advice of Hapgood, Tom went to a brook, and washed his aching feet in cold water. The veteran campaigner gave him other useful hints, which were of great service to him. That night he had as good reason to bless the memory of the man who invented sleep as ever Sancho Panza had, and every honr was fully improved. At six o'clock, the next morning, the regiment marched again. Tom's legs were stiff, but he felt so much better than on the preceding day, that he began to think that he could stand any thing. In- the early part of the afternoon his ears were saluted by a new sound — one which enabled him more fully than before to realize the nature of the mission upon which he had been sent. It was the roar of cannon. On that day was fought the battle of Blackburn's Ford ; and when the regiment reached its halting-place at Centreville, the ?tory of the light Avas told by enthusiastic lips. Massa- [*husetts men had stood firm and resolute before the ■irtillery and musketry of the rebels, and every man sN'ho heard the story was proud that he hailed from he Old Bay State, and panted for the time when he night show himself worthy of his origin, and true to he traditions of the past. The regiment lay in camp the two following days, md the men had an opportunity to recover in some 11 * 126 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR measure from the fatigues of their first severe march. Visions of glory and victory were beginning to dawn upon them. They had listened to the cannon of the enemy, and they knew that the rebels were not many miles distant in front of them. A few days, perhaps a few hours, would elapse before the terrible conflict would commeace. Some of those manly forms must soon sleep in the soldier's grave ; some of those beating hearts must soon cease to beat forever ; but still the brave and the true longed for the hour that would enable them to " strike home " for the nation's sal- vation. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 127 CHAPTER XIII. THE BATTLK OF BULL RL'N. , . UMBLEout! Tumble out!" shouted the ser- if I g^'^iiit, -who Avas in the mess with the soldiers VJ^ Ave have introduced. " Reveille ! Don't you hear it ? " " But it isn't morning," growled Ben Lethbridge. " I haven't been asleep more than an hour or two," snarled Fred Pemberton. " Shut up your Keads, and turn out ! " said the sergeant. It was the morning of the eventful twenty-first of July, and it was only two o'clock when the regiment was roused from its slumbers ; but there was no great hardship in this fact, for most of the men had been sleeping the greater portion of the time during the preceding two days. Tom Somers was ready to take his place in the line in a few moments. " Come, fellows, hurry up," said he to his tardy companions. " The time has come, and, I tell you, there'll be music before many hours." 128 ^^-^ SOLDIER BOY', OR "Where are* Ave going, Tom? Have you any idea?" asked Fred. " Going down to Manassas Junction, I suppose. That's where the rebels arc." " Do you suppose we shall get into a fight-^* " asked Ben. " I don't know ; I hope so." " So do I," returned Ben, faintly ; " but I don't like to be broke of my rest in this way." Tom, full of excited anticipations in regard to the events of the day, laughed heartily at this reply, and left the tent. The regiment was formed in line, but there were two vacancies in the section to Avhich he belonged. Fred and Ben had answered to their names at roll call. On some pretence they had asked permis- sion to leave the line for a few moments, and that was the last that had been seen of them. " Where do suppose they are ? " said Tom to Hapgood. *' I don't know. I hain't got much confidence in Ben's pluck, and I shouldn't wonder if he had run away." " But that is desertion." " That's just what yoii may call it ; and I've seen men shot for it." The regiment remained in line several hours before the order came to move. At daylight, while the men TOM SO ME as IN THE ARMY. ]^v>9 were still standing in the road, four soldiers, attended by a staff olHcer, conducted the two missing men of Company K into the presence of the regiment. '^ These men say they belong to your regiment," said the officer, saluting the little colonel. Captain Benson immediately claimed them, and Fred and Ben were ordered into the ranks. "Cowards — are you?" said the captain. "You shall take your places in the ranks, and at the rio-ht time we will settle this case." "I enlisted without my father's consent, and you can't hold me if I don't choose to stay," replied Fred Pemberton. "Next time you must ask your father before you come. It is too late to repent now." " I'm going home." "No, you're not. Sergeant, if either of those men attempt to leave the ranks again, shoot them ! " said the captain. Fred and Ben took their places in the ranks amid the laughter and jeers of the company. "Who's the baby now?" said Bob Dornton. " You have disgraced the company," added old Hap- good. "I didn't think you would run away before the battle commenced." " I shall keep both eyes on you, my boys, and if you skulk again, I'll obey orders — by the Lord Harry, 130 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR I -will I " said the sergeant, as he glanced at the lock of his musket. " Company K isn't going to be laughed at for your cowardice." At six o'clock the order came for the brigade to march. It now consisted of only three regiments, for the time of one, composed of three months' men, had ex- pired while at Centreville ; and though requested and importuned to remain a few days longer, they basely withdrew, even while they were on the very verge of the battle-field. This regiment left, and carried with it the scorn and contempt of the loyal and true men, who "were as ready to fight the battles of their coun- try on one day as on another. The men knew they were going to battle now, for the enemy was only a few miles distant. The soldier boy's heart was full of hope. He knew npt Avhut a battle was ; he could form no adequate conception of the ter- rible scene which was soon to open upon his view. He prayed and trusted that he might be able to do his duty Avith courage and fidelity. To say that he had no doubts and fears would be to say that he was not human. As the brigade toiled slowly along, he tried to pic- ture the scene which Avas before him, and thus make himself familiar Avith its terrors before he was actually called to confront them. He endeavored to imagine the sounds of screaming shells and whistling bullets, that the reality, Avhen it came, might not appall him. He TOM SOMERS IN THE A li M Y . 131 thought of his companions dropping dead around him, of his friends mangled by bayonets and cannon shot ; he painted tlie most terrible picture of a battle which his imagination could conjure up, hoping in this man- ner to be prepared for the worst. The day was hot, and the sun poured down his scorching rays^upon the devoted soldiers as they pur- sued their weary march. They were fatigued by con- tinued exertion, and some of the weary ones, when the sun approached the meridian, began to hope the great battle would not take place on that day. Tom Somers, nearly worn out by the tedious march, and half fiimished after the scanty breakfast of hard bread he had eaten before daylight, began to feel that he was in no con- dition to face the storm of bullets which he had been imagining. No orders came to halt at noon, though the crowded roads several times secured them a welcome rest : but on marched the weary soldiers, till the roar of cannon broke upon their ears ; and as they moved farther on, the rattling volleys of musketry were heard, denotino- that the battle had already commenced. These notes of strife were fuU of inspiration to the loyal and pa- triotic in the columns. A new life was breathed into them. They were enthusiastic in the good cause, and their souls immediately became so big that what had been body before seemed to become spirit now. They J^32 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR forgot their empty stomachs and their weary limbs. The music of battle, wild and terrible as it was to these untutored soldiers, charmed away the weariness of the body, and, to the quickstep of thundering cannon and crashing musketry, they pressed on with elastic tread to the horrors before them. Tom felt that he had suddenly and miraculously been made over anew. He could not explain the reason, but his legs had ceased to ache, his feet to be sore, and his musket and his knapsack were deprived of their superfluous weight. "God be with me in this battle!" he exclaimed to himself a dozen times. " God give me strength and courage ! " Animated by his trust in Him who will always sus- tain those who confide in him, the soldier boy pressed on, determined not to disgrace the name he bore. The terrible sounds became more and more distinct as the regiment advanced, and in about two hours after the battle had opened, the brigade arrived at the field of operations. One regiment was immediately detached and sent off in one direction, while the other two were ordered to support a battery on a hill, from which it was belching forth a furious storm of shells upon the rebels. The little colonel's sword gleamed in the air, as he gave the order to march on the double-quick to the position assigned to him. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 133 " Now, Tom, steady, aud thiuk of nothing but God and your country," said old Hapgood, as the regiment commenced its rapid march. " I know somethino- about this business, and I can tell you we shall have hot work before we get through with it." ''Where are the rebels? I don't see any," asked Tom, who found that his ideas of the manner in which a battle is fought were very much at fault. *' You will see them very soon. They are in their breastworks. There ! Look down there ! " exclaimed the veteran as the regiment reached a spot which commanded a full view of the battle. Tom looked upon the fearful scene. The roar of the artillery and the cra^li of the small arms were absolutely stunning. He saw men fall, and lie mo- tionless on the ground, where they were trampled upon by the horses, and crushed beneath the wheels of cannon and caisson. But the cry was, that the army of the Union had won the field, and it inspired him with new zeal and new courage. Scarcely had the remnant of the brigade reached the right of the battery, before they were ordered to charge down the valley, by Colonel Franklin, the acting brigadier. They were executing the command Avith a dash and vigor that would have been creditable to veterans, when they were ordered to cross the ravine, and support the Fire Zouaves. The movement was 12 134 THE SOLDIER BOY, OH made, and Tom soon found himself in the thickest of the fight. Shot and shell were flying in every direc- tion, and the bullets hissed like hailstones around him. In spite of all his preparations for this awful scene, his \eart rose up into his throat. His eyes were blinded by the volumes of rolling smoke, and his mind confused by the rapid succession of incidents that were transpiring around him. The pictures he had painted were sunhght and golden compared with the dread reality. Dead and dying men strewed the ground in every direction. Wounded horses were careering on a mad course of destruction, trampling the wounded and the dead beneath their feet. The hoarse shouts of the officers were heard above the roar of battle. The scene mocked all the attempts which the soldier boy had made to imagine its horrors. In front of the regiment were the famous Fire Zouaves, no longer guided and controlled by the mas- ter genius of Ellsworth. They fought like tigers, fu- riously, madly ; but all discipline had ceased among them, and they rushed wildly to the right and the left, totally heedless of their officers. They fought like demons, and as Tom saw them shoot do^^^l, hew down, or bayonet the hapless rebels who came within their reach, it seemed to him as though they had lost their humanity, and been transformed into fiends. Tom sumehs jy the army. 135 As soon us the regiment reached its position, the order was given to fire. Tom found this a happy re- lief; and when he had discharged his musket a few times, all thoughts of the horrors of the scene forsook him. He no longer saw the dead and the dying ; he no longer heard the appalling roar of battle. He had become a part of the scene, instead of an idle spectator. He was sending the bolt of deatli into the midst of tlie enemies of his country. " Bravo ! Good boy, Tom," said old Hapgood, wlio seemed to be as much at ease as when he had coun- selled patience and resignation in the quiet of the tent. " Don't fire too high, Tom." " I've got tlie idea," replied the soldier boy. *' I begin to feel quite at home." '• 0, you'll do ; and I knew you would from the first." The shouts of victory which had sounded over the field were full of inspiration to the men ; but at the moment when tlie laurels seemed to be resting securely upon our banners, the rebel line moved forward with irresistible fury. Tom, at one instant, as he cast his eye along the line, found himself flanked on either side by his comrades ; at the next there was a wild, indescribable tramp and roar, and he found himself alone. The regiment was scattered in every direction, and he did not see a single man whom he knew. 136 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR There was a moving mass of Federal soldiers all around him. The Zouaves had been forced back, and the cry of victory had given place to the ominous sounds which betokened a defeat, if not a rout. The rebels had been reenforced, and had hurled theii fresh legions upon our exhausted troops, who could no longer roll back the masses that crowded upon them. The day was lost. Tom, bewildered by this sudden and disastrous re- sult, moved back with the crowds around him. Men had ceased to be brave and firm ; they were fleeing in mortal terror before the victorious battalions that sursred aorainst them. •*' It's all up with us, my lad," said a panting Zouave. " Run for your life. Come along with me.** Tom followed the Zouave towards the woods, the storm of bullets still raining destruction around them. TOM S0MBB3 IN THE ARMY. 187 CHAPTER XIV. AFTER THE BATTLE. /^Pj^OM SOMERS floated ^^atll the tide of humanity /'■ that was setting away from the scene of disaster Vj/ and defeat. The panic that prevailed was even more fearful than the battle, for wounded and dying men were mercilessly trodden down by the feet of the horses, and run over by the wheels of the cannon and the bag- gage wagons. Though the battle was ended, the rebels still poured storms of shot and shell into the retreating, panic-stricken host. Tom did not know where to go, for there were panic and death on all sides of him. The soldiers were flying in every direction, some of them into the very arms of their remorseless enemies. But the woods seemed to promise the most secure retreat from the fury of the Black Horse Cavalry, which was now sweeping over the battle-field. The Zouave ran in this direction, and our soldier boy followed him. Now that the excite- ment of the conflict was over, the enthusiasm which had buoyed him up began to subside. The day was Jost ; 12* 138 THE SOLDIER BUY, OH all hopes of glory had fled ; and a total defeat and rout were not calculated to add much strength to his over- tasked limbs. He was nearly used up, and it was hard work to run — very hard work ; and nothing but the instinct of self- preservation enabled him to keep the tall and wiry form of the Zouave in sight. They reached the ravine, where the water was about three feet deep. The shot, and shell, and bullets still fell in showers around them, and occasionally one of the luckless fugitives was struck down. They crossed the stream, and continued on their flight. An officer on horseback dashed by them, and bade them run with all their might, or they would be taken. " For Heaven's sake, get me some water ! " said a rebel, who was wounded in the leg, to a "Zouave, who passed near him. " You are a rebel, but I will do that for you," replied the Zouave ; and he gave him a canteen filled with water. The rebel drank a long, deep draught, and then levelled his musket at the head of his Samaritan enemy and fired. This transaction had occupied but a moment, and Tom saw the whole. His blood froze "\A'ith horror at the unparalleled atrocity of the act. The Zouave, whom Tom had followed, uttered a terrible oath, and snatching the musket from the hands of the soldier boy, he rushed upoUi-the soulless miscreant, and transfixed him upon the TO.V SO.VL'HS IX THE AKMY. 139 ►ayouet. Uttering fierce curses all the time, he plunged he bayonet again and again into the vitals of the rebel, ill lite was extinct. • lioy, I used to be human once," said the Zouave, vhen ho had executed this summary justice upon the •ebel ; '• but I'm not human now. I'm all devil." " What a wretch that rebel was ! " exclaimed Tom, vho seemed to breathe freer now that retribution had )vertaken the viper. " A wretch ! Haven't you got any bigger word than ;hat, boy? He was a fiend! But we musn't stop aere." " I thought the rebels were human." *' Human? That isn't the first time to-day I've seen such a thing as that done. Come along, my boy ; come along." Tom followed the Zouave again ; but he was too much exhausted to run any farther. Even the terrors of the Black Horse Cavalry could not inspire him with strength and courage to continue his flight at any swifter pace than a walk. *' I can go no farther," said he, at last. " Yes, you can ; puU up ! pull up ! You will be taken if you stop here." *» I can't help it. I can go no farther. I am used up." " Pull up, pull up, my boy ! " " I can't." 14,0 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR " But I don't -want to leave you here. They'll murder you — cut your throat, like a dog." " I will hide myself in the bushes till I get a little more strength." '• Try it a little longer. You are too good a fellow to be butchered like a calf," added the generous Zouave. But it was no use to plead with him, for exhausted nature refused to support him, and he dropped upon the ground like a log. " Poor fellow ! I would carry you in my arms if I could." " Save yourself if you can," replied Tom, faintly. The kind-hearted fireman was sorry to leave him, but he kne^V that one who wore his uniform could expect no mercy from the rebels. They had been too terrible upon the battle-field to receive any consideration from those whom they had so severely punished. He was, therefore, unwillinGC to trust himself to the tender mercies of the cavalry, who were sweeping the fields to pick up pris- oners ; and after asking Tom's name and regiment, he reluctantly left him. Tom had eaten nothing since daylight in the morning, which, added to the long march, and the intense excite- ment of his first battle-field, had apparently reduced him to the last extremity. Then, for the first time, he real- ized what it was to be a soldier. Then he thought of his happy home — of his devoted mother. What must TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 141 ihe not suffer when the telegraph should flash over the vires the intelligence of the terrible disaster which had >vertaken the Union army ! It would be many days, if lot weeks or months, before she could know whether le was dead or alive. What anguish must she not mdure ! He had but a moment for thoughts like these before le heard the sweep of the rebel cavalry, as they dashed lown the road through the woods. He must not remain vhere he was, or the record of his earthly career would lOon be closed. On his hands and knees he crawled iway from the road, and rolled himself up behind a rot- en log, just in season to escape the olsservation of the lavalrymen as they rode by the spot. Here and there in the woods were the extended forms )f Federals and rebels, who had dragged their wounded Dodies away from the scene of mortal strife to breathe heir last in this holy sanctuary of nature, or to escape irom the death-dealing shot, and the mangling wheels :hat rumbled over the dead and the dying. Close by the soldier boj-^s retreat lay one who was moaning piteously for water. Tom had filled his canteen at a brook on the fvay, and he crawled up to the sufferer to lave his dying :hirst. On reaching the wounded man, he found that he was a rebel, and the fate of the Zouave who had done a similar kindness only a short timg before presented itself to his mind. 142 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR *' Water ! Water ! For the love of God, give me a drop of water," moaned the dying soldier. Tom thought of the Zouave again, and had almost steeled his heart against the piteous cry. He turned away. "• Water ! Water ! If you are a Christian give me some water," groaned the sufferer. Our soldier boy could no longer resist the appeal. He felt that he could not be loved on earth or forgiven in heaven if he denied the petition of the dying rebel ; but before he granted it, he assured himself that the sufferer had no dangerous weapon in his possession. The man was deadly pale ; one of his arms hung useless by his side ; and he was covered with blood. He was a terri- ble-looking object, and Tom felt sick and faint as he gazed upon him. Placing his canteen at the lips of the poor wretch, he bade him drink. His frame quivered as he clutched the canteen with his remaining hand. The death damp was on his forehead ; but his eye lighted up Avith new lustre as he drank the grateful beverage. " God bless you ! God bless you ! " exclaimed he as he removed the canteen from his lips. " You are a Yan- kee," he added, as he fixed his glazing eyes upon Tom's uniform. " Are you wounded ? " " No ; I am worn out. I have eaten nothing since daylight, and not much then. I am used up." TO.\r SOMEBS IX THE ABMY. 143 •• Put your hand in my haversack. There is some- thing there," gasped the dying man. Tom bent over him to comply with the invitation ; but, with a thrill of horror, he started back, as he listened to the death-rattle in the throat of the rebel, and saw his eyes fixed and lustreless in death. - It was an awful scene to the inexperienced youth. Though he had seen hundreds fall in the battle of that day, death had not seemed so ghastly and horrible to him as now, when he stood face to face with the grim monster. For a few moments he forgot his own toil-worn limbs, his craving hunger, and his aching head. He gazed upon the silent form before him, which had ceased to suffer, and he felt thankful that he had been able to mitigate even a single pang of the dying rebel. But not long could he gaze, awe-struck, at the ghastly spectacle before him, for he had a life to save. The words of the suflferer — his last words — offering him the contents of his haversack recurred to him ; but Tom's sensibilities recoiled at the thought of eating bread taken from the body of a dead man, and he turned away. •• Why shouldn't I take it?" said he to himself. " It may save my life. With rest and food, I may escape. Pooh ! I'll not be a fool ! " Bending over the dead man, he resolutely cut the hav- ersack from his body, and then returned to the log whose 144 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR friendly shelter had screened him from the eyes of the rebel horsemen. Seating himself upon the ground, he com- moBced exploring the haversack. It contained two '• ash- cakes," a slice of bacon, and a small bottle. Tom's eyes glowed with delight as he gazed upon this rich feast, and, without w^aiting to say grace or consider the circum- stances under which he obtained the materials for his feast, he began to eat. Ash-cake was a new institution to him. It was an Indian cake baked in the ashes, probably at the camp-fires of the rebels at Manassas. It tasted very much like his mother's johnny-cake, only he missed the fresh butter wdth w^hich he had been^wont to cover the article at home. The soldier boy ate the bacon, and ate both of the cakes, though each of the latter was about the size of a saucer. It was a large meal, even for a growing boy ; but every mouthful seemed to put a new sinew into his frame. While he "was eating, he drew the cork from the bottle. It contained whiskey. Tom had heard that there was virtue in whiskey ; that it Avas invigorating to a tired man, and he w^as tempted, under these extremely trying circumstances, to experiment upon the beverage. He would certainly have been excusable if he had done so ; but our hero had a kind of horror of the article, which would not let him even taste it. He was afraid that he should acquire a habit which would go with him through life, and make him what Hapgood and others TOM SOMLRS IX THE ABMY. 145 whom he knew were — u torment to themselves, and a nuisance to their fellow-beings. Putting the cork in the bottle, he threw it upon the ground. With his renewed strength came renewed hope; but lie did not deem it prudent to wander about the woods at present : therefore he threw himself on the ground under the protecting log to obtain the repose he so much needed. He thought of home, and wondered whether he should ever see the cottage of his parents again ; and while he was thinking, overcome by the excitement and fatigue of the day, he dropped asleep. It was strange that he could do so, consciously environed by so many perils ; but he had in a measure become callous to danger, and he slept long and deep. When he awoke, it was dark and silent around him. The roar of battle had ceased, and the calm of death seemed to have settled upon the scene of strife. Tom's bones still ached ; but he was wonderfully refreshed by the nap he had taken. He had no idea of the time, and could not tell whether he had slept one hour or six. He was strong enough to walk now, and the first considera- tion was to escape from the vicinity of the rebel camps ; but he had no conception of where he was, or what direction would lead him to the Federal lines. A kind Providence had w^atched over him thus far ; had spared his life in the fury of battle ; had fed him in the wilderness, like Elijah of old ; and restored his wasted 13 146 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR strength. He could only trust to Providence for guid- ance, and, using his best judgment in choosing the direc- tion, he entered upon the difficult task of finding his way- out of the woods. He had walked an hour or more, when, suddenly, three men sprung up in the path before him. " Halt ! Who comes there?" demanded one of them. " Friend ! " replied Tom ; though he had a great many doubts in regard to the truth of his assertion. " Advance, friend, and give the countersign ! " But the soldier boy had no countersign to give. He had fallen upon a rebel picket post, and was made a prisoner. TOM SO. VERS IX THE ARXY. U7 CHAPTER Xy. TOM A PRISONER. / >^^ OM could not exactly understand how he hap- / 1 pened to be made a prisoner. He had cer- VJ/ tainly moved with extreme caution, and he wondered that he had not received some intimation of the presence of the enemy before it was too late to retreat. But, as we have before hinted, Tom was a philosopher ; and he did not despair even under the present reverse of circumstances, though he was greatly disconcerted. *' TMio are you?" demanded one of the rebel sol- diers, when they had duly possessed his body, which, liowever, was not a very chivalrous adventure, for the prisoner was unarmed, his gun having been thrown away by the friendly Zouave, after he had so terribly avenged his murdered companion. " I'm a soldier," replied Tom, greatly perplexed by the trials of his difficult situation. As yet he did not know whether he had fallen into the hands of friend or foe, for the night was cloudy 148 ^"S'J? SOLDIER BOY, OR apd dark, and he could not see what uniform the pickets "vvore. " ^Miat do you belong to?" demanded the spokes- man of the picket trio. " I belong to the army," answered Tom, with adr mirable simplicity. Our soldier boy, as the reader already knows, had been Avell " brought up." He had been taught to tell the truth at all times ; and he did so on the present occasion, very much to the confusion, no doubt, of the rebel soldiers, who had not been brought up under the droppings of the sanctuary in a Xcav England villa £re. " B'long to the army — do you?" repeated Secesh, who must have thought Tom a very candid person. " Yes, sir, I belong to the army," added the prisoner. " I s'pose you won't mind telling us Avhat army you belong to, 'cause it mought make a difference in our calculations," added the spokesman. Tom did not know but that it might make some difference in his calculations, and for this reason he was exceedingly unwilling to commit himself before he ascertained upon which side his questioners be- longed. "Can you tell me Avhere I am?" asked Tom, re- solved to use a little strategy in obtaining the desired information. TOM SOMEJiS IX THE ABMY. 149 '' May be I can," replied the picket. -Will you do so?" " Sartin, stranger — you are in the woods," added Secesh ; Avhereat his companions indulged in a whole- some chuckle, which assured Tom that they were hu- man, and his hopes rose accordingly. "Thank you^" replied Tom, with infinite good nature. " You say you belong to the army, and I say you are in the woods," said the soldier, repeating the double postulate, so that the essence of the joke should by no possibility fail to penetrate the cerebellum of his auditor. Tom was perfectly willing to acknowledge that he was in the woods, both actually and metaphorically, and he was very much disturbed to know how he should get out of the woods — a problem which has puzzled wiser heads than his, even in less perplexing emer- gencies. He was fearful that, if he declared himself to be a Union soldier, he should share the fate of others whom he had seen coolly bayoneted on that eventful day. '* Now, stranger, s'pose you tell me Avhat army you b'long to ; then I can tell you where you are," con- tinued the soldier. "What do you belong to?" asked Tom, though he did not put the question very confidently. " I belong to the army ; " and the two other pick- 13* ^50 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR ets honored the reply with another chuckle. " You can't fool old Alabammy." There was no further need of fooling *' Old Ala- bammy," for the worthy old gentleman, symbolically represented by the rebel soldier, had kindly done it himself; and Tom then realized that he was in the hands of the enemy. It is true, the balance of the picket trio laughed heartily at the unfortunate slip of the tongue made by their companion ; but Tom was in no condition to relish the joke, or he might perhaps have insinuated himself into the good gi-aces of the jolly Secesh by repeating Pat's mysterious problem — " Tell me how many cheeses there are in the bag, and I'll give ye the whole five ; " for, though this is an old joke in the civilized parts of the world, it is not at all probable that it had been perpetrated in the benighted reo^ions of Secessia. The announcement of the fact that he was in the hands of the foe, as we have before intimated, left Tom in no condition to give or take a joke. His heart was suddenly deprived of some portion of its ordinary gravity, and rose up to the vicinity of his throat. He drew sundry deep and long breaths, in- dicative of his alarm ; for thougli Tom was a brave boy, — as these pages have ah*eady demonstrated, — he had a terrible idea of the tender mercies of the rebels. His first impulse was to break away from his captors. TOM aOMHIiS jy TH£ AHAfY. ^51 and ruu the risk of beiug overiukeu by a trio of musket balls ; for death from the quick action of a bullet seemed preferable to the fate which his fears conjured up if he should be taken by the bloodthirsty rebels. But the chances were too decidedly against him, and he reluctantly brought his mind to the con- dition of philosophical submission. "Well, stranger, which army do you b'long to?" said the spokesman of the picket trio, when he had fully recovered his self-possession. •' I belong to the United States army," replied Tom, desperately. '' That means the Yankee army, I s'pose." " Yes, sir ; you call it by that name." '* Then you are my prisoner." '• I surrender because I can't help myself." *' Hev you nary toothpick or bone-cracker in your pockets?" " Any what? " replied Tom, whose dictionary seemed to be at fault. " Nary pistol, knife, or any thing of that sort ? " " Nothing but my jackknife." " Any plunder? " '' TYe piled up our knapsacks and haversacks before we went into the fight. Here is my canteen half full of water ; I gave the other half to one of your soldiers, when he was dying of his wounds." J52 THE 6CLD1ER BOY, OH "Did ye?" " Now will you be kind enough to tell me where I am?" ^' You are inside the lines of our army, about three miles below Centreville," replied one of the pickets. "What time is it?" * " Nigh upon nine o'clock, I should say. One of you fellers must take this prisoner to head-quarters," he continued, speaking to his companions. Tom was very agreeably surprised to find that his captors did not propose to hang, shoot, or bayonet him ; and the Southern Confederacy rose a few degrees in his estimation. Certainly the men who had taken him were not fiends, and he began to hope that his situation as a prisoner would not be so terrible as his fancy had pictured it. One of the men was deputed to conduct him to the officer of the guard ; and he walked along by the side of the soldier through the woods, in the direction from which he had just come. "Can you tell me how the battle went at last?" asked Tom, as they pursued theu' way through the forest. " We whipped you all to pieces. Your army hasn't done running yet. We shall take Washington to-mor- row, and Jeff Davis will be in the White House be- fore the week is out." TOM SOAfJ-JJiS y.V y/ZA' ARMY. I53 '* Have you taken many prisoners?" asked Tom, who could not dispute the position of the rebel soldier. "• About fifty thousand, I b'lieve," replied Secesh, with refreshing confidence. Tom indulged in a low whistle, but his companion could not tell whether it was an expression of regret or incredulity. If they had stood on an equality, Tom would probably have suggested that the figures should be interpreted ''over the left" — an idios}mcrasy in language which he had imported from Pinchbrook, but which may not be wholly unintelligible to our young readers. From his conductor he obtained some particulars of the battle and its result, which were afterwards more fully set forth in General Beauregard's ofificial report, and which would have read better on the pages of Sinbad the Sailor than in the folios of a military despatch. But the Secesh soldier's " facts and figures " were comforting to Tom, who still had a stron^-er in- tercst in the condition of the good cause, after the heavy blow it had received, than he had in his own individual welfare. Like too heavy a dose of poison, the magnitude of the stories refuted and defeated them. The soldier boy listened in respectful silence, but he was utterly incredulous. It was even pos- sible that the Union army had won a victory, af- 154 ^^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR ter all, though he was not very sanguine on this point. He was ultimately conducted to the head-quarters of the regiment to which his captors belonged, and then turned into a lot with about twenty others, who were strongly guarded. Tom joined his companions in misery, most of M'hom, Avorn out by the fatigues of the day, were sleeping soundly upon the ground. Only two or three of them were awake ; but these were strangers to him, and he was unable to obtain any information from them concerning any of his friends in the regiment. It began to rain shortly after Tom joined his fel- low-prisoners ; but there was no shelter for them. They had neither blankets nor great-coats, yet this did not seem to disturb them. Our soldier boy threw himself upon the ground, but the nap he had taken under the side of the log set his eyes wide open for a time. He could only think of home, his mother and sisters, and John, by this time snugly coiled away in the bed where he had been w^ont to dream of the glories of war. He had *cast his fears to the winds when he found that his captors did not intend to butcher him, and he could not help thinking that his situa- tion might have been worse. Those with whom he had spoken told him they had eaten nothing since morning ; and in this respect he was TOyr SOAfERS IX THE A R .\f Y I55 far better off than his companions were. The only thin-T^ that troubled him was the thoudit of the an- crnish ■which liis mother must suffer, when she heard of the battle. "When tlie regiment should be gathered together again, he would be reported as '' missing," and this would be a terrible word to her, for it meant killed, Avounded, or a prisoner. If he oould only assure her that he still lived and was uninjured, he would have been happy — happy in spite of the drenching rain — happy in spite of the prospective dungeon, and the hardships to which he might be subjected. He felt that he had faithfully performed his duty. When he began to be drowsy, he settled himself in the most comfortable place he could find . on the ground, and thanked God that he had been spared his life through the perils of that awful day, and more fervently that he had been enabled to do his duty like a good soldier ; and then, with the Giver of all Good, the Fountain of all Mercy, in his heart, he fell asleep. He slept several hours, and waked up to find him- self as thoroughly soaked as though he had just come out of the river. There was no help for it, and it was no use to grumble. After walking to and fro for Italf an hour, he lay down again, and, between sleep- ing and waking, finished the night ; uncomfortably, it is true, and yet without any positive suffering. There were hundreds, if aot thousands, who were enduring 156 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR the agony of fearful -svounds through that long night ; •vvho "were lying alone and uncared for where they had fallen in the deadly strife ; "vvho were dying every hour, away from their homes and friends, and Avith no kind hand to minister to their necessities, with no sweet voice of a loved one to smooth their passage do^vn to the dark, cold grave. Tom thought of these, for he had seen them in his path, and he felt that he had no cause to complain — that he ought to be cheerful and happy. At the daAvn of the day he and his fellow-prisoners were marched to Sudley Church, where they were to be confined until they could be sent to Richmond. Here Tom found a cap- tain belonging to his regiment ; but neither could give any information to the other in regard to their friends. " I shall not stay here long," said the captain, in a whisper, when they had become better acquainted. " I intend to leave to-night." "Can't I go with youV" asked Tom. " You can go, but we had better not go together." Tom thought for a while, and determined upon an attempt to escape. During the day, he carefully exam- amined the premises, and decided upon his mode of operations. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 157 CHAPTER XVI. A PERPLEXING QUESTION. /^^^OM SOMERS, who had had some experience, in /I a small way, in the kind of business now before ^<^jy him, was filled with hope when he had adopted his plan. He was a resolute and energetic young man, and to resolve upon any thing was almost equivalent to doing it. There were a great many difiieulties in the way of success, it is true ; but, nothing daunted by these, he determined to persevere. The church in which the prisoners were confined M^as carefully guarded on the exterior, and the sentinels carried loaded muskets in their hands — so that the afiair before him was more hazardous and trying than that of escaping from the attic chamber of Squire Pemberton's house in Pinch- brook. If he succeeded in making his way out of the church and eluding the guard which surrounded it, even then his trials would only have commenced ; for there were many miles of hostile country between him and Wash- inffton, wliithcr lie supposed the Federal army had been 14 158 r^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR driven. The captain who intended to escape at the same time gave him some information which would be of ser- vice to him in finding his way to the Potomac. He charged him particularly to follow the railroad, which would conduct him to Alexandria, in the vicinity of which he would probably find the regiment. At dark the prisoners disposed of themselves as well as they could for the night. Tom saw the captain go through all the forms of preparing for a comfortable lodging, and he did the same himself. For hours he lay ruminating upon his purpose. When it was midnight, he thought it was time for him to commence the enter- prise. He worked himself along on the floor till he reached the principal entrance. The door was open, as it had been all day, to enable the guards to obtain an occasional view of the prisoners. The sentinels were evidently in no condition to dis- charge their duties with fidelity, for they had been marching and fighting for two or three days, and were nearly exhausted. Leaning against the door, Tom dis- covered a musket, which the careless guard had left there. On the floor in the entry lay two rebel soldiers. They had stretched themselves across the threshold of the door, so that no one could pass in or out of the church without stepping over them. Tom carefully rose from his recumbent posture, and took possession of the musket. Then, with the utmost TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 159 prudence, he stepped over the bodies of the sleeping sol- diers ; but with all his circumspection, he could not pre- vent one of his shoes from squeaking a little, and it required only a particle of noise to rouse the guard. " Who goes there? " demanded one of them, springing to his feet. '' Is this the way you do your duty?" replied Tom, as sternly as though he had been a brigadier general. '•Who are you?" said the soldier, apparently im- pressed by the words and the tones of him who reproved his neglect. '• Who am I, you sleepy scum ! I'll let you know who I am in about ten minutes," added Tom, as he passed out at the front door of the church. "Give me back my gun — won't you?" pleaded the confused sentinel. " I'll give it back to you at the court-martial which will sit on your case to-morrow." "'Who goes there?" challeno-ed one of the sentinels on the outside. '• "SMio goes there ! " added Tom, in a sneering tone. '' Have you waked up ? Where -were you five minutes ago, when I passed this post ? There won't be a prisoner left here by morning. The long roll wjouldn't wake up such a stupid set of fellows." '' Stop, sir I " said the astonished sentinel. *' You can't pass this line." 160 ^-^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR " Can't I, you stupid fool? I have passed it while you were asleep." '' I haven't been asleep." "Where have you been, then?" demanded Tom with terrible energy. " Been here, sir." " I'll court-martial the whole of you ! " " Stop, sir, or I'll fire at you ! " added the soldier, as Tom moved on. " Fire at me ! Fire, if you dare, and I'll rid the army of one unfaithful man on the spot ! " said the sol- dier boy, as he raised the musket to his shoulder. " Don't fire, you fool ! " interposed one of the men whom Tom had roused from his slumbers in the entry. " Don't you see he is an officer?" " I'll teach you how to perform your duty ! " added Tom, as he walked aAvay. . The soldier, governed by the advice of his companion, offered no further objection to the departure of Tom ; and he moved off as coolly as though he had just been regularly relieved from guard duty. He had walked but a short distance before he discovered the camp of a regiment or brigade, which, of course, it was necessary for him to avoid. Leaving the road, he jumped over the fence into a field — his first object being to place a re- spectful distance between himself and the enemy. The scene through which he had just passed, though he TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. jg^ had preserved the appearance of coolness and self-posses- sion, had been exceedingly trying to his nerves ; and ■when tlie moment of pressing danger had passed, he fomul his heart up in his throat, and his strength almost wasted by the excitement. He felt as one feels when he has just escaped a peril which menaced him with instant death. It was singular that the soldier had not fired, but the fact that he did not convinced Tom that there is an amazing power in impudence. For half an hour, he pursued his way with haste and diligence, but without knowing where he was going — whether he was movin^on house, he looked over, and saw the otHcer and one private disappear in the woods which lay between the house and the railroad. Looking over the other way, he saw the coveted recruit approaching the house from beyond the garden. 176 ^^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER XVIII. THE REBEL SOLDIER. /^5^0M SOMERS was not very well satisfied with / 1 his situation, for the soldier who had been ^J^ left in possession of the house was armed with a musket, and the prospect of escaping before night was not very flattering. The patriarch of the family, who had such a horror of recruiting officers, was approaching, and in a few moments there would be an exciting scene in the vicinity. Independent of his promise naade to the woman to help her husband, if she would not betray him, Tom deemed it his duty to prevent the so-called Confederate States of America from obtainino^ even a sin^^le additional recruit for the armies of rebellion and treason. Without having any personal feeling in the matter, therefore, he was disposed to do all he could to assist his host in " avoiding the draft." What would have been treason in New England was loyalty in Virginia. The unfortunate subject of the Virginia militia law was unconsciously approaching the trap which had been TOAf SOAfERS IX THE AH.VY. \-- set for him. He had, no doubt, come to the condusion, by this time, that the hungry soldier boy was not a recruiting othcer, or even the corporal of a guard sent to apprehend him, and he was returning with confi- dence to partake of his noonday meal. Tom, fn#m his perch at the top of the chimney, watched him as he ambled along over the rough path with his eyes fixed upon the ground. There was something rather exciting in the situation of affairs, and he soon found himself deeply interested in the issue. The unhappy citizen owing service to the Confederate States climbed over the zigzag fence that enclosed his garden, and continued to approach the rude dwelling which the law had defined to be his castle. Tom did not dare to speak in tones loud enough to be heard by the innocent victim of the officer's conspiracy, for they would have betrayed his presence to the enemy. Sit- ting upon the top stones of the chimney, he gesticulated violently, hoping to attract his attention ; but the man did not look up, and consequently could uot see the signals. He had approached within ten rods of the back door of the house, when Tom, fearing his footsteps might attract the attention of the soldier, ventured to «]rive a low whistle. As this wai not heeded, he repeated the signal when the man was within two or three rods of the house ; but even this was not noticed, and 178 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR throwing his head forward, so that the sound of his voice should not descend the chimney, he spoke. " HaUoo ! " said he. The man suddenly stopped, and looked up. Tom made signals with his hands for him to leave ; but this mute language appeared not to be intelligible to him. " Consarn yer picter, what are yer doin' up thar?'* said the proprietor of the castle, in tones which seemed to Tom as loud as the roar of the cannon at Bull Run. " Hush ! Hush ! " replied Tom, gesticulating with all his might, and using all his ingenuity to invent signs that Avould convey to the militiaman the idea that he Avas in imminent danger. "You be scotched!" snarled the man. "What are yer doin' ? What ails yer ? " " They are after you ! " added Tom, in a hoarse whisper. The fellow most provokingly refused to hear him, and Tom thought his skull was amazingly thick, and his perceptions amazingly blunt. " Xow you come down from thar," said he, as he picked up a couple of stones. " You act like a monkey, and I s'pose yer be one. Now make tracks down that chimley." But instead of doing this, Tom retreated into his TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. j 79 shell, as a snail does when the moment of peril arrives. The soldier in the house was not deaf; and if he had been, he could hardly have helped hearing the stentorian tones of his victim. Instead of going out the back door, like a sensible man, he passed out at the front door, and in a moment more Tom heard his voice just beneath him. " Halt ! " shouted the soldier, as he brought his musket to his shoulder. " Your name is Joe Burnap." " That's my name, but I don't want nothin' o' you," replied the embarrassed militiaman, as he dropped the stones with which lie had intended to assault Tom's citadel. '' I want something of you," replied the soldier. " You must go with me. Advance, and give your- self up." "What fur?" asked poor Joe. " We want you for the army. You are an enrolled militiaman. You must go with me." '^I'U be dog derned if I do," answered Joe Bur- nap, desperately. " If you attempt to run away, I'll shoot you. You shall go with me, dead or alive, and hang me if I care much which." Joe evidently did care. He did not want to go with the soldier; his southern blood had not been fired by the WTongs of his country ; and he was equally averse IgO THE SOLDIER BOY, OR to being shot in cold blood by this minion of the Con- federacy. His position Avas exceedingly embarrassing, for he could neither rim, fight, nor compromise. While matters were in this interesting and critical condition, Tom ventured to raise his head over the top of the chimney to obtain a better view of the belligerents. Joe stood where he had last seen him, and the sol- ♦ dier was standing within thi-ee feet of the foot of the chimney. " What ye going to do, Joe Burnap?" demanded the latter, after waiting a reasonable time for the other to make up his mind. ''What am I gwine to do ? " repeated Joe, vacantly, as he glanced to the right and the left, apparently in the hope of obtaining some suggestion that would enable him to decide the momentous question. "' You needn't look round, Joe ; you've got to come or be shot. Just take your choice between the two, and don't waste my time." " I s'pose I can't help myself," replied Joe. " I'll tell ye what I'll do. I want to fix up things about hum a little, and I'll jine ye down to the Gap to-morrow." " No you don't, Joe Burnap I " said the soldier, shaking his head. " Then I'll jine ye to-night," suggested the strategist. " My orders are not to return without you, and I shall obey them." • TOM 6 0M£IiS ly THt: AHMY. Jgl Mrs. Buruap, wlio'had Ibllowed the soldier out of the house, stood behind him wringing her hands in an agony of grief. She protested with all a woman's eloquence against the proceedings of the soldier ; but her tears and her homely rhetoric were equally una- vailing. While the parties were confronting each other, the soldier dropped his piece, and listened to the arguments of Joe and his wife. When he turned for a moment to listen to the appeals of the woman, her husband improved the opportunity to commence a retreat. He moved off steadily for a few paces, when the enemy discovered the retrograde march, and again brouojht the ^irun to his shoulder. '" None of that, Joe," said the soldier, sternly. " Now march back again, or I'll shoot you ; " and Tom heard the click of the hammer as he cocked the piece. '' I've fooled long enough with you, and we'll end this business here. Come here, at once, or I'll put a bullet through your head." " Don't shoot ! Don't shoot ! For mercy's sake don't shoot," cried Mrs. Burnap. " I'll give him one minute to obey the order ; if he don't do it then, I'll fire. That's all I've got to say." Tom saw by the soldier's manner that he intended to execute his threat. He saw him brace up his nerves, and otherwise prepare himself for the bloody deed. But- Tom did not think that Joe had the stubbornness or 16 • 132 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR the courage, whichever it might be called, to rim the risk of dodging the bullet. He foresaw, too, that, if Joe gave himself up, his hiding place would be ex- posed, and the soldier ^vould have two prisoners to conduct back to his officer, instead of one. It was therefore high time for him to do something for his own protection, if not for that of his host. The necessity of defending himself, or of doing something to cover his retreat in an emergency, had been anticipated by Tom, and he had made such jDrep- arations as the circumstances would admit. His first, suggestion was to dart his bayonet down at the rebel soldier, as he had seen the fishermen of Pinchbrook harpoon a horse mackerel ; but the chances of hitting the mark were too uncertain to permit him to risk the loss of his only weapon, and he rejected the plan. He adopted the method, however, in a modified form, deciding to use the material of which the chimney was constructed, instead of the bayonet. The stones being laid in clay instead of mortar, were easily de- tached from the structure, and he had one in his hands ready for operations. " Come here, Joe Burnap, or you are a dead man," repeated the soldier, who evidently had ?ome scruples about depriving the infant Confederacy of an able- bodied recruit. Tom Somers, being unembarrassed by any such TOM SOMh'HS JX THE ARMY. ^^3 scruples, lilted liiinselt' up t'roni his hidiug place, and hui'led the stone upon the soldier, fully expecting to hit him on the head, and dash out his brains. The best laid calculations often miscarry, and Tom's did in part, for the missile, instead of striking the soldier upon the head, hit him on the right arm. The musket was dis- charged, either by the blow or by the act of its owner, and fell out of his hands upon the ground. Now, a stone as big as a man's head, does not fall from the height of fifteen feet upon any vulnerable part of the human frame without inflicting some injury ; and in strict conformity with this doctrine of probabilities, the stone which Tom hurled down upon the rebel, and which struck him upon the right arm, entirely disabled that useful member. The hero of this achievement was sat- isfied with the result, though it had not realized his anticipations. Concluding that the time had arrived for an effective charge, he leaped out of the chimney upon the roof of the house, descended to l^e eaves, and then jumped down upon the ground. The soldier, in panic and pain, had not yet recov- ered from the surprise occasioned by this sudden and unexpected onslaught. Tom rushed up to him, and secured the musket before he had time to regain his self-possession. "Wko are you?" demanded the soldier, holding up the injured arm with his lefl hand. 184 ^^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR " Your most obedient servant," replied Tom, face- tiously, as he placed himself in the attitude of " charge bayonets." " Have you any dangerous weapons about your person ? " " Yes, I have," replied the soldier, resolutely, as he retreated a few steps, and attempted to thrust his left hand into the breast pocket of his coat. " Hands down ! " exclaimed Tom, pricking his arm with the bayonet attached to the musket. •• Here, Joe Burnap ! " " What d' yer want ? " replied the proprietor of the house, who was as completely "demoralized" by the scene as the rebel soldier himself. " Pat your hand into this man's pocket, and take out his pistol. If he resists, I'll punch him with this," added Tom, demonstrating the movement by a few vigorous thrusts with the bayonet. With some hesitation Joe took a revolver from the pocket of the soldier, and handed it to Tom. "' Examine all his pockets. Take out every thing he has in them," added Tom, cocking the revolver, and pointing it at the head of the prisoner. Joe took from the pockets of the rebel a quantity of pistol cartridges, a knife, some letters, and a wallet. "Who's this fur?" asked Joe, as he proceeded to open the wallet, and take therefrom a roll of Confed- erate " shin-plasters." TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 1^5 '• Give it back to him." " But this is money." *' Money ! " sneered Tom. " A northern beggar \rouldn't thank you for all he could carry of it. Give it back to him, and every thing else except the cartridges." Joe reluctantly restored the wallet, the letters, and the knife, to the pockets from which he had taken them. Tom then directed him to secm-e the cartridge box of the soldier. *' You are my prisoner," said Tom ; " but I believe in treating prisoners well. You may go into the house, and if your arm is much hurt, Mrs. Burnap may do what she can to help you." The prisoner sullenly attended the woman into the house, and Tom followed as far as the front door. " Now, what am I g^vine to do ? " said Joe. " You've got me into a right smart scrape." '' I thought I had got you out of one," replied Tom. '•Do you intend to remain here?" '' Sartin not, now. I must clear." " So must I ; and we have no time to spare. Get what you can to eat, and come along." In ten minutes more, Tom and Joe Bumap were travelling towards the mountains. 16* l^t) '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OH CHAPTER XIX. THROUGH THE GAP. OE BURXAP was perfectly familiar with the country, and Tom readily accepted him as a guide ; and, as they had a common object in view, neither had good cause for mistrusting the other. They walked, "without stopping to rest, till the sun set behind the mountains towards which they were trav- elling. " I reckon we needn't hurry now," said Joe, as he seated himself on a rock. " I don't think there is any danger of their catching us," replied Tom, as he seated himself beside his fellow- traveller. " Can you tell me^ where we are? " " I reckon I can. There ain't a foot of land in these yere parts that I hain't had my foot on. I've toted plun- der of all sorts through these woods more 'n ten thousand times." " Well, where are we?" asked Tom, whose doubts in regard to the locality had not yet been solved. In the pressure of more exciting matters, he had not TOM SOMEHS IX THE ARMY. IgJ attempted to explain why lie did uot come to Fairfax sta- tion while foll6wing the railroad. '• If we keep on 4 little while longer, I reckon we shall come to Thoroughfare Gap," answered Joe. "But where do you live? What town is your house in ? " asked Tom, who had never heard of Thoroughfare Gap before. " Haymarket is the nearest town to my house." " What railroad is that over there?" asked Tom, wdio was no nearer the solution of the question than he had been in the besinnin";. *' That's the Manassas Gap Railroad, I reckon," replied Joe, who seemed to be astonished at the ignorance of his companion. "Just so," added Tom, who now, for the first time, comprehended where he was. When he left Sudley church, he w^alked at random till he came to the railroad ; but he had struck the Manassas Gap Railroad instead of the main line, and it had led him away from the great body of the rebels, though it also conducted him away from Washington, where he desired to go. He was perplexed at the discovery, and at once began to debate the question whether it was advisable for him to proceed any farther in this direction. "I suppose you are a Union man — ain't you?" said Tom, after he had considered his situation for some time. 138 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR Instead of answering this question, Joe Burnap raised his eyes from the ground, and fixed his gaze intently upon Tom. He stared at him for a moment in doubt and silence, and then resumed his former attitude. " You don't want to fight for the south," added Tom ; "so I suppose you don't believe in the Southern Con- federacy." " I don't want to fight for nuther of 'em," replied Joe, after a moment of further consideration. " If they'll only let me alone, I don't keer which beats." His position was certainly an independent one, and he appeared to be entirely impartial. The newspapers on either side would not have disturbed him. Patriotism — love of country — had not found a resting place in his soul. Tom had not, from the beginning, entertained a very high respect for the man ; but now he despised him, and thought that a rebel was a gentleman compared with such a character. How a man could live in the United States, and not feel an interest in the stirring events which were transpiring around him, was beyond his com- prehension. In one word, he so thoroughly despised Joe Burnap, that he resolved, at the first convenient opportunity, to get rid of him, for he did not feel safe in the company of such a person. "Now which side do you fight fur?" asked Joe, after a long period of silence. " For the Union side," replied Tom, promptly. TOAf SOMEES IN THE ARMY. I39 " What are yer doin' here, then?" " I was in the battle below, and was taken prisoner. I got away, and I want to get to Washington." " I reckon this ain't the way to git thar," added Joe. " I doubt whether I can get there any other way." Just then, Tom would have given all the money he had in the world, and all that the government owed him, for a good map of Virginia — or even for a knowledge of geography which would have enabled him to find his way by the safest route to Washington. But he had been a diligent scholar in school, and had faithfully improved the limited opportunities which had been afforded him. His mind could recall the map of Virginia which he had studied in school, but the picture was too faint to be of much practical benefit to him. He had treasured up some information, derived from the newspapers, in regard to the Manassas Gap Railroad. He knew that it passed through the Blue Ridge, at the western base of which flowed the Shenandoah River : this emptied into the Potomac, which would certainly conduct him to Washinsrton. In folio win "r these two rivers, he should have to describe nearly a circle, which was not an encouraging fact to a boy on foot, with no resources, and in an enemy's country. If he returned by the way he came, the country was filled with rebel soldiers, and he could hardly expect to pass through their lines without being captured. Diffi- 190 '^HE SOLDIER BOY, OR cult and dangerous as the route by the Shenandoah ap- peared, he decided to adopt it. Joe Burnap proposed that they should have supper, and opened the bag which he had filled with such eata- bles as he could hastily procure on leaving home. They ate a hearty meal, and then resumed their walk for another hour. " I reckon we'd better stop here," said Joe. " The Gap's only half a mile from here, and it's too arly in the night to go through thar yet. Thar's too many soldiers goin that way." " What time will you go through? " asked Tom. " Not afore midnight." " Then I'll turn in and take a nap. I didn't sleep any last night." " I'm agreed," replied Joe, who seemed to be indiffer- ent to every thing while he could keep out of the rebel army. Tom coiled up his body in the softest place he could find, and went to sleep. Exhausted by fatigue and the want of rest, he did not wake for many hours. He came to his senses Avith a start, and jumped upon his feet. For a moment, he could not think where he was ; but then came the recollection that he was in the country of his enemies — a wanderer and a fugitive. He looked about him in search of his travelling com- panion ; -but the fact that he could not see him in the TOM SOMERS IX THE AJtMY. 191 night was no arorument that he "was not near him. He supposed Joe had chosen a place to sleep in the vicinity, and thinking he might not wake in season to pass through the Gap before daylight, he commenced a search for him. He beat about the place for half an hour, call- ing his companion by name ; but he could not see him, and no sound responded to the call but the echoes of his own voice. The independent Virginia farmer had anticipated Tom's intention to part company with him, and, by this time, perhaps, had passed through the Gap. The soldier boy was not 'quite ready to dispense with the services of his guide, inasmuch as he did not even know where the Gap was, or in what direction he must travel to reach it. AVhile he was debating his prospects, an enterprising rooster, in the distance, sounded his morning call. This assured him that he must be near some travelled road, and, taking the direction from the fowl, he resumed his journey. A short walk brought him out of the woods, and, in tlie gray light of the da-^vn, he discovered a house. As lie did not care to make IS THE AliMY. 205 hauled up his boat, intending to wait for the return oi* darkness. The place he had chosen appeared to be far from any habitation, and he ate his breakfast in a very hopeful frame of mind. Though he was not very tired or very sleepy, yet for the want of something better to do, he felt compelled to go to sleep, hoping, as on the previous day, to dispose of the weary hours in this agreeable manner. His pastime, however, was soon interrupted by loud shouts and the tramp of men, not far from the spot where he lay. A hurried examination of the sur- roundings assured him that he had chosen a resting place near one of the fords of the river, over which a rebel regiment was then passing. 18 206 THE SOLDIER BOY, OM CHAPTER XXI. THE PROBLEM OF RATIONS. /^5i^HE ford over which the rebel regiment was pass- / 1 iiig was only a few rods distant from the place ^C_L^ where Tom had concealed himself and his boat. TThen he discovered the soldiers, he was thrilled •svith terror ; and, fully believing that his hour had come, he dropped upon the ground, to wait, in trembling anxiety, the passage of the troops. It was a regiment of Vir- ginia mountaineers, clothed in the most fantastic style, with hunting-shirts and coon-skin caps. They yelled and howled like so many wildcats. From his hiding place on the bank of the stream, he obtained a good view of the men, as they waded across the river. He was fearful that some of them misrht stray fronl the ranks, and stumble upon his place of refuge ; but a kind Providence put it into their heads to mind their own business, and Tom gathered hope as the yells of the mountaineers grew indistinct in the distance. " This is no place for me." said Tom to himself, when the sounds had died awav in the direction of the Blue TOM SOM£JtS I.\ TUK AJiMY. 207 Ridge. " A wholu army of them may camp near that ford, and drije me out of my hiding place." Jumping into the bateau again, he waited till he was satisfied no carriage or body of troops Avas in the vicinity ; and tlien plying the paddle with the utmost vigor, he pa:>>ed the ford. But then he found that the public highway ran along the banks of the river, which exposed him to increased risk of being seen. A couple of vehicles passed along the road while he was in this exposed situation ; but as the occupants of them seemed to take no notice of him, he congratulated himself upon his escape, for presently the boat was beneath the shad- ows of the great trees. Finding a suitable place, he again hauled up, and concealed himself and the bateau. As all danger seemed to have passed, Tom com- posed his nerves, ate his dinner, and went to sleep as u^ual ; but his rest was not so tranquil as he had en- joyed in the solitudes of the mountains. Visions of rebel soldiers haunted his dreams, and more than once he started up, and gazed wildly around liim ; but these were only visions, and there was something more real to dis- turb his slumbers. "Hi! Who are you?" exclaimed a wildcat soldier, who had penetrated the thicket without disturbing the sleeper. Tom started up, and sprang to his feet. One of the tall mountaineers, whom he had seen crossing the ford. 208 ^-^-^ ^OLDILH JiuY, OF, Stood before liim ; and the reality was even more appall- ing than the vision. "Who mought you be?" demanded the tall soldier, with a good-natured grin upon his greasy face. " Faith I I believe I've been asleep ! " said Tom, rub- bing his eyes, and looking as innocent as a young lamb. " You may bet your life on thet, my boy," replied the rebel, laughing. ^' Hi I Jarvey ! " added he, apparently ad- dressing a companion at no great distance from the spot. Heavy footsteps announced the approach of Jarvey, who soon joined them. He was not less than six feet three inches in height, and, Avith Uxo such customers as these, Tom had no liope except in successful strategy. He had no doubt they had obtained information of him from the persons in the vehicles, and had come to secure him. He fully expected to be marched oiF to the rebel regiment, which could not be far oil. *•' AVho is he, Sid?" asked Jurvey. Avlien he reached the spot. " Dunno. Say, who are ye, stranger?" 'tWho am I? Tom Somers, of course. Do you belong to fftat regiment that stopped over yonder la.-t night?" asked Tom, Avith a proper degree of enthusiasm. " Don't you know me ? " " WeU, w-e don't." "Didn't you see me over there? That's a bully regi- ment of vours. I'd like to join it." TUM SOMEBS I\ THE ARMY. QQQ "Would you, though, sonny?" said Sid, laughing till his mouth opened wide enough for a railroad train to pass in. " Wouldn't I, though ! " replied Tom. " If thereVs any big fighting done, I'll bet your boys do it." "Bet your life on thet," added Jarvey. "But why don't you jine a regiment? " " Don't want to join any regiment that comes along. I want to go into a fighting regiment, like yours." " Well, sonny, you ain't big enough to jine ours," said Sid, as he compassionately eyed the young man's diminu- tive proportions. '■• The old man wouldn't let me go in when I wanted to, and I'm bound not to go in any of your fancy regi- ments. I want to fight wlicn I go." " You'll do, sonny. Now, what ye doing here ? " " I came out a-fishing, but I got tired, and went to sleep." " Where's your fish-line ? " " In the boat." " What ye got in that handkerchief? " " My dinner," replied Tom. "Won't you take ti bite ? " " What ye got ? " " A piece of cold chicken and some bread." " We don't mind it now, sonny. Hev you seen any men with this gear on in these yere parts?" asked Jarvey, as he pointed to his uniform. 18* 210 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR " Yes, Sir," replied Tom, vigorously. " TVhar d' ye see 'em, sonny?" " They crossed the ford, just above, only a little while ago." " How many?" *' Two," replied Tom, with promptness. *' Where's the other?" asked Jarvey, turning to his companion. "He's in these yere woods, somewhar. TTe'll fotch 'em before night. You say the two men crossed the ford — did ye, sonny ? " "Yes, half an hour ago. What is the matter with them?" " They're mean trash, and want to run off. Xow, sonny, 'spose you put us over the river in your boat." " Yes, sir ! " replied Tom, readily. The two wildcats got into the bateau, nearly swamp- ing it by their great weight, and Tom soon landed them on the other side of the river. " Thank 'e, sonny," said Jarvey, as they jumped on shore. " If you were only four foot higher, we'd like to take you into our regiment. You'll make a right smart chance of a soldier one of these yere days. Good by, sonny." " Good by," answered Tom. as he drew a long breath, indicative of his satisfaction at being so well rid of his passengers. TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 211 lie had fully persuaded himself that he should be car- ried off a prisoner to this Avildcat regiment, and he could hardly believe his senses when he found himself again safely floating down the rapid tide of the Shenandoah. His impudence and his self-possession had saved him ; but it was a mystery to him that his uniform, or tlie absence of his fish-line, or the answers he gave, had not betrayed him. The mountaineers had probably not yet seen a United States uniform, or they would, at least, have questioned him about his dress. Tom ran down the river a short distance farther before he ventured to stop again, for he could not hope to meet with many rebel soldiers who vrcre so innocent and inex- perienced as these wildcats of the mountains had been. TThen the darkness favored his movements, he asrain embarked upon his voyage. Twice during the night his boat got aground, and once he Avas pitched into the river by striking upon a rock ; but he escaped these and other perils of the navigation with nothing worse than a thorough ducking, which was by no means a new expe- rience to the soldier boy. In the morning, well satisfied with his night's work, he laid up for the day in the safest place he could find. On the second day of his voyage down the river, the old problem of rations again presented itself for consid- eration, for the ham and chicken he had procured at Leed's Manor were all gone. There were plenty of 212 '^BE SOLDIER BOY, OR houses on the banks of the river, but Tom had hoped to complete his cruise "without the necessity of again expos- ing himself to the peril of being captured while foraging for the commissary department. But the question was as imperative as it had been several times before, and twelve hours fasting gave him only a faint hint of what his necessities might compel him to endure in twenty-four or forty-eight hours. He did not consider it wise to post- pone the settlement of the problem till he was actually sufferina: for the want of food. On the third night of his voyage, therefore, he hauled up the bateau at a convenient place, and started off upon a foraging expedition, intending to visit some farmer's kitchen, and help himself, as he had done on a former occasion. Of course, Tom had no idea Avhere he was ; but he hoped and believed that he should soon» reach Harper's Ferry. After making his way through the Avoods for half a mile, he came to a public road, \vhieh he followed till it brought him to a house. It Avas evidently the abode of a thrifty farmer, for near it were half a dozen negi'o houses. As the dwelling had no long windows in front, Tom was obliged to approach the place by a flank and rear movement ; but the back door was locked. He tried the windows, and they were fastened. TVTiile he was reconnoitring the premises, he heard heavy footsteps within. Returning to the door, he knocked vigorously for admission. TOM SO. VERS IX THE ARMY. 213 •* Wlio's tliar?" said a man, as he threw the door wide open. '• A stranger, who wants something to eat," replied Tom, boldly. '• Who are ye?" '• My name is Tom Somers," added the soldier boy, as he stepped into the house. " Can you tell me whether the Seventh Georgia Regiment is down this way ? " '' I reckon 'tis ; least wise I don't know. There's three rigiments about five mile below yere." '" I was told my regiment was down this way, and I'm trying to find it. I'm half starved. Will you give me something to eat ? " *' Sartin, stranger ; I'll do thet." The man, who was evidently the proprietor of the house, brought up the remnant of a boiled ham, a loaf of white bread, some butter, and a pitcher of milk. Tom ate till he was satisfied. The farmer, in deference to his amazing appetite probably, suspended his questions till the guest began to show some signs of satiety, when he pressed him again as vigorously as though he had been born and brought up among the hills of New Eng- land. '• TVTiere d' ye come from?" said he. *• From Manassas. I lost my regiment in the fight ; and the next day I heard they had been toted over this way, and I put after them right smart," answered Tom, 214 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR adopting as much of the Georgia vernacular as his knowledge would permit. "Walk all the way?" *' No ; I came in the keers most of the way." '" But you don't wear our colors," added the farmer, glancing at Tom's clothes. " My clothes Avere all worn out, and I helped myself to the best suit I could find on the field." " AVhat regiment did ye say ye b'longed to?" queried the man, eying the uniform again. " To the Seventh Georgia. Perhaps you can tell me where I shall find it." " I can't ; but I reckon there's somebody here that can. I'll call him." Tom was not at all particular about obtaining this information. There was evidently some military man in the house, who would expose him if he remained any longer. "Who is it, father?" asked a person who had proba- bly heard a part of tlie conversation we have narrated ; for the voice proceeded from a bed-room adjoining the apartment in which Tom had eaten his supper. " A soldier b'longing to the Seventh Georgia," an- swered the farmer. " That's my son ; he's a captain in the cavalry, and he'll know all about it. He can tell you where yer regiment is," added lie, turning to Tom, who was edofinof towards the door. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 215 " I'm very much obliged to you for my supper," said the fugitive, nervously. " I reckon 1^11 be moving along." '• Wait half a second, and my son will tell you just where to find your regiment," " The Seventh Georgia?" said the captain of cavalry, enterin'T^ the room at this moment with nothinoj but his pants on. '•' There's no such regiment up here, and hasn't been. I reckon you're a deserter." " No, sir ! I scorn the charge," replied Tom, with becoming indignation. " I never desert my colors." *' I suppose not," added the officer, glancing at his uniform ; " but your colors desert you." Tom failed to appreciate the wit of the reply, and backed off towards the door, with one hand upon the stock of his revolver. " Hold on to him, father ; don't let him go," said the officer, as he rushed back into his chamber, evidently for his pistols or his sabre. " Hands off, or yoy are a dead man ! " cried Tom, as he pointed his revolver at the head of the farmer. In another instant, the captain of cavalry re-appeared with a pistol in each hand. A stunning report resounded through the house, and Tom heard a bullet whistle by his head. 216 THE SOLDIER BOT, OR CHAPTER XXII. THE PICKET GUARD. ^1 T was sufficiently obvious to Tom that, on the ^1 present occasion, the suspicions of his host were awakened. It is possible that, if he had depended upon his impudence, he might have suc- ceeded in deceiving the Confederate officer ; but his evident intention to retire from the contest before an investigation could be had, proved him, in the estimation of the captain, to be either a spy or a deserter, and shooting him was preferable to losing him. The officer fired quick, and with little attention to the important matter of a steady aim ; and Tom had to thank his stars for the hastv shot. for. though it went within a few inches of his head, "'a miss was as good as a mile," and the brains of our hero re- mained intact and complete. But he was not willing to be the subject of any further experiments of this description, and without waiting further to express his gratitude to the host for the bountiful supper he had TOM SOMhRS IN THE ARMY. 217 ^^'■' eaten, he threw open the door, and dashed off at the top of his speed. The revolver he carried was a very good implement with which to bully a negro, or an unarmed farmer ; but Tom had more confidence in his legs than in his skill as a marksman, and before the captain could transfer the second pistol from his left to his right hand, he had passed out of the house, and was concealed from his pursuers by the gloom of the night. He felt that he had had a narrow escape, and he was not disposed to trifle with destiny by loitering in the vicinity of the house. He had not proceeded far before he heard a hue and cry behind him ; and if the captain of cavalry had not stopped to put on his boots, it is more than possible that our humble volume might have contained a chap- ter or two upon prison life in Richmond. Undoubtedly it was quite proper for the officer to put on his boots before he went out ; a decent regard for his individual sanitary condition, and a reasonable horror of ague and rheumatism, would liave induced him to do it, even at the risk of losing a Federal prisoner, or a rebel deserter, as the case might be. At any rate, if Tom liad known the cause of the delay, he would freely have forgiven him for wasting his time in healthful precautions. Tlie fugitive retraced his steps to the river by the 19 213 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OB same route he had taken in approaching the hospitable roof of the farmer. As nearly as he could judge by the sounds that reached him from the distance, the officer and his father were gathering up a force to hunt down the fugitive. Tom jumped into the bateau, and pushed off. Keeping under the shadow of the bank of the river, he plied his paddle vigorously, and by the time liis pursuers arrived at the river, he was a couple of miles from the spot. He could hear a shout occa- sionally in the deep silence of the night, but with the distance between him and the enemy, he felt entirely secure. The danger had passed, and he floated leisurely on his voyage, buoyant as his light bark, and hopeful as the dream of youth. Hour after" hour, in the gloom of the solemn night, he Avas borne by the swift tide towards the lines of the loyal army. The day was dawning, and he was on the lookout for a suitable place to conceal himself, until the friendly shades of night should again favor his move- ments. After the experience of the former night near the ford, he was very cautious in the selection of a hiding place. It is not always safe to be fastidious ; for while Tom was rejecting one location, and waiting for another to appear, the river bore him into a tract of > very open country, which was less favorable than that through which he had just been passing. The prospect began to make him nervous ; and while TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 219 he was bitterly regretting that he had not moored the boat before, he was startled to hear a sharp, command- ins: voice on the bank at his left. '' Who comes there? Halt ! " Tom looked up, and discovered a gi-ayback, stand- ing on the shore, very deliberately pointing his musket at him. " Who comes there ? " demanded the picket ; for at this point were stationed the outposts of the rebel force in the Shenandoah valley. '• Friend I " replied Tom. '- Halt, then 1 " '* I would, if I could," ansAA-ered Tom, as hastily as possible. '' Halt, or I'll fire ! " '• I tell you I cau't halt," replied Tom, using his paddle vigorously, as though he Avas trying to urgft the bateau to the shore. '*• Don't fire ! For mercy's sake, don't fire." Tom appeared to be intensely frightened at the situ- ation in AA'hich he AA'as placed, and redoubled his ef- forts apparently to gain the bank of the stream ; but the more he seemed to paddle one AA-ay, the more the boat went the other Avay. HoAvever much Tom ap- peared to be terrified by the peril that menaced him, it must be confessed that he Avas not wholly Unmoved. 220 ^^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OB " Stop your boat, quick I " said the soldier, who had partially dropped his musket from its menacing position. "• I can't stop it," responded Tom, apparently in an agony of terror. '"I. would go ashore if I could." '^ What's the matter?" " The water runs so swift, I can't stop her ; been trying this two hours." " You will be inside the Yankee lines in half an hour if you don't fetch to," shouted the picket. " Gracious ! " exclaimed Tom, redoubling his ef- forts. But it was useless to struggle with the furious cur- rent, and Tom threw himself into the bottom of the boat, as if in utter desperation. If Niagara Falls, with their thunderinoj roar and fearfulabvss, had been before liim, his agony could not have been more intense, as judged from the shore. By this time, the sentinel on the bank had been joined by his two companions, and the three men form- ing the picket post stood gazing at him, as he abandoned himself to the awful fate of being captured by the blood- thirsty Yankees, to whose lines the relentless current of the Shenandoah was bearing him. TThen Tom was first challenged by the grayback, the boat had been some twent}^ rods above him ; and it had now passed the spot vrhere he stood, but the TOM SOMKKS IS THE A li M Y . 221 rebels were still near enough to converse with him. Tom heard one of them ask another who he was. Of course neither of them knew who he was, or where he came from. " Try again ! " shouted one of the pickets. " The Yankees will have you in a few minutes." Tom did make another ineffectual effort to check the progress of the bateau, and again abandoned the attempt in despair. The rebels followed him on the bank, en- couraging him with words of cheer, and with dire prophecies of his fate if he fell into the hands of the cruel Yankees. '• Can't you help me ? " pleaded Tom, in accents of despair. " Throw me a rope ! Do something for me." • Now, this was a suggestion that had not before oc- curred to the picket guard, and Tom would have been infinitely wiser if he had not put the idea of assisting him into their dull brains : for it is not at all probable that they would have thought of such a thing them- selves, for the south, especially the poor white trash, are not largely endowed with inventive genius. " Save me ! Save me ! " cried Tom, a> he saw the rebels engaged in a hasty consultation, the result of which was, that two of tliem started off upon the run in a direction at riorht andes with the stream. " Try again ! Stick to it ! " shouted the picket left on the shore. 19* 222 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR '' I can't do any more ; I'm all tired out," replied Tom, throwing himself for the fourth time in the bot- tom of the boat, the very picture of despair. The picture was very much exaggerated and over- drawTi ; but as long as the bullet from the rebel's musket did not come his way, Tom was satisfied with his acting, and hopeful for the future. The man on the shore, full of sjTupathy for the distressed and exhausted voyager, walked and ran so as to keep up with the refractory barge, which seemed to be spitefully hurling its agonized passenger into the Federal lines, where death and dun- geons lurked at every corner. T\"hile this exciting drama was in progress, the stream bore Tom to a sharp bend in the river, where the cur- rent set in close to the shore. His attentive guardian on the bank ran ahead, and stationed himself at this point, ready to afford any assistance to the disconsolate navigator wliicli the circumstances might permit. " Xow's your chance ! " shouted he. " Gosh all whittaker ! put in now, and do your pootiest ! " Tom adopted this friendly advice, and '' put in " with all his might ; but the more he " put in," the more he put out — from the shore, whither the in- auspicious eddies were sweeping him. If Tom had not been born in Pinchbrook, and had a home by the sea, where boating is an appreciated accomplishment, he would probably have been borne into the arms of TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 223 tte expectant rebel, or received in his vitals the ounce of coid lead which that gentleman's musket contained. As it was, he had the skill to do what he seemed not to be doing. Mr. Johnny Reb evidently did not suspect that Tom was " playing 'possum," as the Tennessee sharpshooters would have expressed it. The voyager's efforts appeared to be made in good faith ; and cer- tainly he applied himself with a degree of zeal and energy which ought to have overcome the inertia of a small gunboat. ' The bateau approached the point not more than a rod from the waiting arms of the sympathizing gray- back. As it passed, he waded a short distance hito the water, and stretched forth his musket to the un- happy voyager. Tom tlirew down his paddle, and sprang with desperate energy to obtain a hold upon the gun. lie even succeeded in grasping the end of the bayonet. For a moment he pulled so hard that it was doubtful whether the bateau would be hauled ashore, or Secesli drawn into the deep water. '•Hold on tight, my boy! Pull for your life!" shouted the soldier, highly excited by the probable success of his philanthropic efforts. " Save me ! Save me ! " groaned Tom, as he tugged, or seemed to do so, at the bayonet. Then, while the united exertions of the saver and the saved, in anticipation, were on the very point of 224 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR being successful, the polished steel of the bayonet unaccountably slipped through the fingers of Tom, and the bateau was borne off towards the opposite shore. " Save me ! Save me," cried Tom again, in tones more piteous than ever. " Wliat d'ye let go fur?" said the grayback, in- dignantly, as his musket, which he had held by the tip end of the stock, dropped into the water, when Tom let go of the bayonet. The soldier indulged in a volley of peculiarly southern oaths, with which we cannot disfigure our page, even in deference to the necessity of painting a correct picture of the scene we have described. Tom had a vein of humor in his composition, which has already displayed itself in some of the rough ex- periences of his career ; and when he saw the rebel soldier deprived of all power to make war upon him, either offensive or defensive, he could not resist the temptation to celebrate the signal strategical victory he had obtained over the picket guard. This trium- phal demonstration was not very dignified, nor, under the circumstances, very prudent or sensible. It con- sisted in placing the thumb of his right hand upon the end of his nose, while he wiggled the four re- maining digital appendages of the same member in TOM SOMEJiS IX THE ARMY. 220 the most aji^i^ravating manner, whistling Yankee Doodle as an accompaniment to the movement. If Secesh did not understand the case before, he did now ; and fishing up his musket, he emptied the water out of the barrel, and attempted to fire it. Luckily for Tom, the gun would not go off, and he swept on his Avay jubilant and joyous. 226 ^-^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER XXIII. THE END OF THE VOYAGE. Z^^" OM SOMERS'S voyage do^\'ii the Shenandoah g I was, in many respects, a type of human life. ^1^^ He experienced the various reverses, the trials and hardships, which attend all sojourners here below. He triumphed over all obstacles, and when he had completely outwitted the grayback who had labored so diligently to save him from his impending fate, he was at the zenith of prosperity. He had vanquished the last impediment, and tlie lines of the Union army — the. haven of peace to him — were only a short distance from the scene of his victory. Prosperity makes men arrogant and reckless, and I am sorry to say tliat it liad tlie same effect upon Tom Somers. If he had been content modestly to enjoy the victory he had achieved, it would have been wiser and safer for him ; but when Fortune Avas kind to him, he mocked her. and she turned against him. Wb.en he had passed out of the reach of the rebel soldier, wlioric musket had been rendered useless for TO.yr .-iOMEJiS jx the ah my. 227 the time being, Tom believed that he Avas safe, and tliat he had lairly escaped from the last peril that menaced him on the voyage. But he was mistaken ; for as the current swept the bateau around the bend of the river, he discovered, to his astonishment and chagrin, the two secesh soldiers, who had left the picket post some time before, standing at convenient distances from each other and from the shore, in the water, ready to rescue him from the fate before him. The place they had chosen was evidently a ford of the river, where they intended to check the boat in its mad career down the stream. They were painfully persistent in their kind intentions to save him from the horrible Yankees, and Tom wished they had been less humane and less enthusiastic in his cause. As soon as Tom perceived this trap, he regretted his imprudence in betraying himself to the soldier from wliom he had just escaped. His sorrow was not diminished, when, a few minutes later, h^ heard the shouts of the third soldier, Asiio, by hard nmning across the fields, had reached the ford before him. '' Shoot him ! Shoot him ! He's a Yankee ! " bel- lowed the grayback on the shore. Tom was appalled at these words, and wondered how the soldier could have found out that he was a Yankee ; but when he recalled the fact that he had enteiiained 228 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR him with Yankee Doodle at their last meeting, the mystery became less formidable. " Shoot him I He's a Yankee ! " shouted Secesh on the bank of the stream. " We've left our guns on shore," replied Secesh in the water. '^ I'm very much obliged to you for that," said Tom to himself, as he grasped his paddle, and set the boat over towards the right bank of the river. No doubt the rebels in the water, when they saw with what facility the boatman moved the bateau in the swift tide, as compared with his futile efforts farther up the stream, were fully satisfied of the truth of their com- panion's assertion. Tom decided to run the gantlet between the right bank and the soldier nearest to that shore. He paddled the bateau with all his vigor, until he had obtained the desired position. The graybacks in the water, realizing that they were engaged on an errand of peace and humanity, had left their muskets on shore. They were, therefore, compara- tively harmless ; but the one on shore had reached the ford, and picking up one of the muskets of his com- panions, without threat or warning, fired. It was lucky for Tom that he was not a Tennessee sharp- shooter, nor a Texas ranger, for the shot passed harm- lessly over him. The soldier dropped the gun, and picked up the other, which he instantly discharged, and TOM SOMEJiS I.y THE AliMV. 229 with better aim than before, for tlio bull struck the bateau, though not within four foct of where Tom stood. '' Don't waste jour powder, if you can't shoot better than that," shouted one of the soldiers in the water. "You'll hit us next." " Stop him, then ! Stop him ! " replied the gray- back on the shore. " Kill him if you can." Tom was paddling with all his might to pass the ford before the soldier nearest to him should reach a position in which he could intercept the boat. The rebel was an enterprising fellow, and the soldier boy's chances were growing amazingly small. Secesh had actually reached a place where he could make a dash at the boat. There he stood with a long bowie-knife between his teeth, and with both hands outstretched, ready to seize upon the unfortunate bark. He looked grim and ferocious, and Tom saw that he was thoroughly in earnest. It was a trying situation for a boy of Tom's years, and he would fain have dodged the issue. That bowie- knife had a wicked look, though it was mild and tame compared with the savage eye of the rebel who held it. As it was a case of life and death, the fugitive braced himself up to meet the shock. Taking his position in the stern of the boat, he held the paddle in his left hand, while his right firmly grasped his revolver. It 20 230 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR "\va3 either " kill or be killed," and Tom was not so sentimental as to choose the latter rather than the for- mer, especially as his intended victim was a secessionist and a rebel. " Keep off, or you are a dead man," shouted Tom, as he flourished his pistol so that his assailant could obtain a fair view of its calibre, and in the hope that the fellow would be willing to adopt a politician's expedient, and compromise the matter by retiring out of range. " Tew kin play at that game. This yere toothpick will w^ipe'you out," coolly replied the fellow, as he made a spring at the boat. " Stand off! " screamed Tom, as he raised the pistol, and fired. It was a short range, and Tom would have been in- excusable if he had missed his aim. The rebel struck his chest with his right hand, and the bowie knife dropped from his teeth ; but with his left hand he had grasped the gunwale of the boat, and as he sunk down in the shallow water, he pulled the bateau over on one side till the water poured in, and threatened to swamp her. Fortunately the wounded man relaxed his hold, the boat righted, and Tom commenced pad- dling again with all his strength and skill. The other soldier in the water, as soon as he dis- covered where Tom intended to pass, hastened over to assist his associate. The shouts of their companion Down the Shenandoab. Page 230. TOM somkhs j\ t/ik Aii.\n. 231 on shore had Tully fired tlielr .southern hearts, and both of them were ten times as zealous to kill or capture a Yankee, as they had been to save a Virginian. When the wounded man clutched the boat, the other Avas not more than ten feet from him, but farther down tlie stream. His associate fell, and he sprang forward lo engage in the affray. " Stand off, or you are a dead man ! " yelled Tom, with emphasis, as he plied his paddle with renewed energy, for he saw that the man could not reach him. The bateau passed them both, and Tom began to breathe easier. The second rebel, finding he could not capture or kill the detested Yankee, went to the assistance of his companion. The soldier boy sus- pended his exertions, for the danger seemed to be over, and gazed with interest upon the scene which was trans- piring in the water just above him. lie was anxious to know whetlier he luid killed the rebel or not. There •was something awful in the circumstances, for the sol- dier boy's sensibilities wen- too acute to permit him to take a human life, though it was that of an enemy, without producing a deep impression upon his mind. Perhaps, in the great battle in which he had been a participant, he had killed several rebels ; if he had done so, he had not seen them fall. This was the first man lie had consciously killed or wounded, and 232 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR the fact was solemn, if not appalling, to the young soldier. ^ As the rebel raised his companion from the water he seemed to be dead, and Tom was forced to the conclusion that he had killed him. He had done the deed in self-defence, and in the strict line of duty. He could not be blamed even by his enemies for the act. He felt no exultation, and hoped from the bottom of his heart that the man was prepared to meet his Maker, into whose presence he had been so suddenly summoned. Tom had heard the boys in Pinchbrook tcilk lightly about killing rebels, and he had talked so himself; but the reality was not so pleasant as. it had seemed at a distance. He was sorry for the poor fellow, and wished he had not been obliged to kill him. It was terrible to him, even in battle, to take a human life, to slay a being created in the image of God, and for whom Christ lived and died. While he was indulging in these sad reflections, he heard a bullet whistle near his head. The secesh sol- dier on the shore had loaded up his companions' muskets, and was doing his best to bring do^^^l the lucky fugitive. His last shot wa^ not a bad one, and Tom could not help thinking, if the grayback should hit him, that he would not Avaste any fine feelings over liim. He did not like the sound of those whizzing bullets, and TO.V SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 233 «3 lie had never boasted of his courage, he did not scorn to adopt precautionary measures. The water was three inches deep in the bottom of the bateau ; but Tom deemed it prudent to lie down there until the current should bear him out of the reach of the rebel bullets. He maintained this recumbent posture for half an hour or more, listening to the balls that frequently whistled over his head. Once he ventured to raise his head, and discovered, not one man, but a dozen, on the shore, which accounted for the rapid firing he heard. AVlien he looked up again, his bateau had passed round a bend, and he was no longer exposed to the fire of the enemy. From his heart Tom thanked God for his escape. lie was religiously grateful for the aid which Provi- dence had rendered him, and when he thought how near lie had stood to the brink of destruction, he realized how narrow the span between the Here and the Hereafter. And the moral of his reflections Avas, that if he stood so near to the open gate of death, he ought always to live wisely and well, and ever be prepared to pass the portals which separate time from eternity. Tom's thoughts were sad and heavy. He could not banish from his mind the face of the rebel, as he raised his hand to his breast, where he had received his mortal wound. That countenance, full of hate and revenge, haunted him for weeks afterwards, in the 20* 234 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, Oil solitude of his tent, and on his midnight vigils as a sentinel. As he sat in the boat, thinking of the events of the morning, and listening to the mournful rippling of the waters, which, to his subdued soul, sounded like the requiem of his victim, he was challenged from the shore again. " Who comes there ! " Tom jumped up, and saw a sentinel on the bank pointing his gun at him. He surveyed the form with anxious interest ; but this time he had nothing to fear, for the soldier wore the blue uniform of the United States army. " Friend," replied he, as he grasped his paddle. " Come ashore, or I'll put a bullet through you," added the sentinel. '• Don't do it 1 " said Tom, with energy. " Can't you see the colors I Avear." " Come ashore, then." " I will." The soldier boy worked his paddle with vigor and skill, and it was astonishing to observe with what better success than when invited to land by the gi'ay- back up the river. The guard assisted him in land- ing and securing his boat. "Who are you?" demanded he, as he gazed at Tom's wet and soiled garments. TO^f SOMKIiS jy Tin: AJIMY. 235 '' I was taken prisoner at Bull Run, and came back on my own hook." " Perhaps you were, but you can't pass these lines," said the soldier. Tom was sent to the Federal camp, and passed from one officer to another, till he was finally introduced to General Banks, at Harper's Ferry. He was questioned in rejrard to his own adventures, the country he had passed througli, and the troops of the enemy he had seen. When, to use his own expression, he had been " pumped dry," he was permitted to rest a few days, and then forwarded to his regiment. 236 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER XXIV. BUDD S FERRY. /^^^HOUGH Tom Somers had been absent from mI the regiment only a fortnight, it seemed to \^,Jy him as though a year had elapsed since the day of the battle when he had stood shoulder to shoulder with his townsmen and friends. He had been ordered to report to the provost marshal at Washington, where he learned that his regiment was at Bladensburg, about six miles from the city. Being provided with the necessary pass and " transportation," he soon reached the camp. *' Tom Somers ! Tom Somers ! " shouted several of his comrades, as soon as they recognized him. " Three cheers for Tom Somers ! " shouted Bob Dornton. The soldier boy was a favorite in the company, and his return was sufficient to justify such a pro- ceeding. The cheers, therefore, were given with tremendous enthusiasm. " Tom, I'm glad to see you ! " said old Hapgood, TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 237 -vvith extended hand, while his eyes filled with tears. '' I was afeard we should never see you again." The fugitive shook hands with every member of the company who was present. His reception was in the highest degree gratifying to him, and he was deter- mined always to merit the good will of his companions in arms. '' Now, fellows, tell us what the news is," said Tom, as he seated himself on a camp stool before the tent of his mess. '' There are letters for you, Tom, in the hands of the ofderly," added one of his friends. " I suppose you have got a bigger story to tell than any of us, but you shall have a chance to read your letters first." These precious missives from the loved ones at home were given to him, and the soldier boy opened them with fear and trembling, lest he should find in them some bad news ; but his mother and all the family were well. One of them was written since the battle, and it was evidently penned with deep solici- tude for his fiite, of which nothing had been heard. Hapgood, who sat by him while he read his letters, assured him that his mother must know, by this time, that he was not killed, for all the men had written to their friends since the battle. The captain who had escaped from Sudley church had reported liim alive 238 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR and well, but he had no information in regard to his escape. " We are all well, and every thing goes on about the same as usual in Pinehbrook," wrote one of his older sisters. " John is so bent upon going to sea in the navy, that it is as much as mother can do to keep him at home. He says the country wants him, and he wants to go ; and what's more, he must go. We haven't heard a word from father since he left home ; but Captain Bar- ney read in the paper that his vessel had been sunk in the harbor of Norfolk to block up the channel. TTe can only hope that he is safe, and pray that God will have him in his holy keeping. " Squire Pemberton was dreadful mad because his son went into the army. He don't say a word about politics now." In a letter from John, he learned that Captain Barney had advanced the money to pay the interest on the note, and that Squire Pemberton had not said a word about foreclosino; the morto-afre. His brother added that he was determined to go into the navy, even if he had to run away. He could get good wages, and he thought it was a pity that he should not do his share towards supporting the family. Tom finished his letters, and was rejoiced to find that his friends at home were all well and happy ; and in a few davs more, a letter from him would gladden 7'OiW SO ME US IX THE ARMY. 939 their hearts with the intelligence of his safe return to the regiment. ••All well — ain't they?" asked Hapgood, as Tom folded up the letters and put them in his pocket ; and tlie veteran could not fail to see, from the happy ex- pression of his countenance, that their contents were satisfactory. " All well," replied Tom. " Where is Fred Pember- ton ? I haven't seen him yet." " In the hospital : he's sick, or thinks he is," answered Hapgood. " Ben Lethbridge is in the guard house. He attempted to run away while we were coming over from Shuter's Hill." "Who were killed, and avIio were wounded? I haven't 'heard a word about the affair, you know," asked Tom. " Sergeant Bradford was wounded and taken pris- oner. Sergeant Brown was hit by a shell, but not hurt nmch. The second lieutenant Avas wounded in the foot, and " A loud laugh from the men interrupted the state- ment. "What are you laughing at?" demanded Tom. " He resigned," added Bob Dornton, chuckling. "You said he was wounded?" " I didn't say so ; the lieutenant said so himself, and hobbled about with a big cane for a week ; but as soon 940 ^-'^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR as his resignation was accepted, he threw away his stick, and walked as well as ever he could." The boys all laughed heartily, and seemed to enjoy the joke prodigiously. Tom thought it was a re- markable cure, though the remedy was one which no decent man would be willing to adopt. "How's Captain Benson?" " He's better ; he felt awful bad because he wasn't in that battle. The colonel has gone home, sick. He has more pluck than body. He was sun-struck, and dropped off his horse, like a dead man, on the field. It's a gi'eat pity he hasn't twice or three times as much body ; if he had, he'd make a first-rate officer." It was now Tom's turn to relate his adventures ; and he modestly told his story. His auditors were deeply in- terested in his narrative, and when he had finished, it was unanimously voted that Tom was a " trump ; " which I suppose means nothing more than that he was a smart fellow — a position which no one who has read his adventures will be disposed to controvert. A long period of comparative inactivity for the regi- ment followed the battle of Bull Run. General McClellan had been called from the scene of his brilliant operations in "Western Virginia, to command the army of the Po- tomac, and he was engaged in the arduous task of organizing the vast body of loyal troops that rushed for- ward to sustain the government in this dark hour of peril. TOM SOMERS IX THE ARAfY. 241 While at Bladensburg the — th regiment with three others were formed into a brigade, the command of which was given to Hooker — a name then unknown beyond the circle of his own friends. About the first of November the brigade was sent to Budd's Ferry, thirty miles below Washington, on the Potomac, to watch the rebels in that vicinity. The enemy had, by this time, closed the river against the passage of vessels to the capital, by erecting bat- teries at various places, the principal of which were at Evansport, Shipping Point, and Cockpit Point. Budd's Ferry was a position in the vicinity of these works, and the brigade was employed in picketing the river, to prevent the enemy on the other side from approaching, and also to arrest the operations of the viler traitors on this side, who were attempting to send supplies to the rebels. It was not a very exciting life to which the boys of our regiment were introduced on their arrival at Budd's Ferry, though the rebel batteries at Shipping Point made a great deal of noise and smoke at times. As the season advanced the weather bejran to irrow colder, and the soldiers were called to a new experi- ence in military life ; but as they were gradually inured to the diminishing temperature, the hardship was less severe than those who gather around their northern fireside may be disposed to imagine. Tom 21 242 THE SOLDIER BOY, OR continued to be a philosopher, which was better than an extra blanket ; and he got along very well. It was a dark, cold, and windy night, in December, when Tom found himself doing picket duty near the mouth of Chickamoxon Creek. Nobody supposed that any rebel sympathizer would be mad enough to attempt the passage of the river on such a night as that, for the Potomac looked alive with the angry waves that beat upon its broad bosom. Hapgood and Fred Pem- berton were with him, and the party did the best they could to keep themselves comfortable, and at the same time discharge the duty assigned to them. " Here, lads," said old Hapgood, who, closely muffled in his great-coat, was walking up and down the bank of the creek to keep the blood warm in his veins. *'"WTiat is it. Hapgood?" demanded Fred, who was coiled up on the lee side of a tree, to protect him from the cold blast that swept down the creek. " Hush I " said Hapgood. " Don't make a noise ; there's a boat coming. Do^^^l ! down ! Don't let them see you." Tom and Fred crawled upon the ground to the verge of the creek, and placed themselves by the side of the veteran. " I don't see any boat," said Tom. "I can see her plain enough, with my old eyes. Look up the creek." TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 243 *' Ay, ay ! I see her." ''So do I," added Fred. ''What shall we do?" " Stop her, of course," replied Tom. " That's easy enough said, but not so easily done. "We had better send word up to the battery, and let them open upon her," suggested Fred. " Open upon the man in the moon ! " replied Tom, contemptuously. " Don't you see she is under sail, and driving down like sixty ? AVe must board her ! " Tom spoke in an emphatic whisper, and pointed to a small boat, which lay upon the shore. The craft approaching was a small schooner apparently about five tons burden. The secessionists of Baltimore or elsewhere had chosen this dark and tempestuous night to send over a mail and such supplies as could not be obtained, for love or money, on the other side of the Potomac. Of course, they expected to run the risk of a few shots from the Union pickets on the river ; but on such a night, and in such a sea, there was very little danger of their hitting the mark. Up the creek tlie water was comparatively smooth ; but the little schooner was driving furiously down the stream, with the wind on her quarter, and the 'chances of making a safe and profitable run to the rebel line, those on board, no doubt, believed were all in their favor. *' We have no time to lose," said Hapgood, with 244 ^-^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR energy, as he pushed off the boat, which lay upon the beach. '' Tumble in lively, and be sure your guns are in good order." '' Mine is all right," added Tom, as he examined the cap on his musket, and then jumped into the boat. " So is mine," said Fred ; " but I don't much like this business. Do you know how many men there are in the schooner?" " Don't know, and don't care," replied Tom. '• Of course they are armed. They have revolvers, I'll bet my month's pay." " If you don't want to go, stay on shore," answered Hapgood, petulantly. " But don't make a noise about it." " Of course I'll go, but I think we are getting into a bad scrape." Tom and Hapgood held a hurried consultation, which ended in the former's taking a position in the bow of the boat, while the other two took their places at the oars. The muskets were laid across the thwarts, and the rowers pulled out to the middle of the creek, just in season to intercept the schooner. Of course they were seen by the men on board of her, who attempted to avoid them. " Hallo ! " said Tom, in a kind of confidential tone. " On board the schooner there ! Are you going over ? " TOM SUMKRS IX THE ARMY. 245 ** Yes. What do you want ? " answered one of the men on board the vessel. " We want to get over, and are afraid to go in this boat. Won't you take us over?" "Who are you?" " Friends. We've got a mail bag." "Where did you get it?" " In Washington." By this time, the schooner had luffed up into the wind, and Tom directed his companions to pull again. In a moment the boat was alongside the schooner, and the soldier boy was about to jump upon her half-deck, when the rebel crew, very naturally, ordered him to wait till they had satisfied themselves in regard to his secession proclivities. There were five men in the schooner, all of whom were seated near the stern. Tom did not heed the protest of the traitors, but sprang on board the schooner, followed by his companions. " Now, tell us who you are before you come any farther," said one of the men. " Massachusetts soldiers ! Surrender, or you are a dead man," replied Tom, pointing his gun. 21* 246 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OB CHAPTER XXV. IN THE HOSPITAL. / ?vf^ HE night was very dark, so that the rebels ■ I in the boat could not distinguish the uniform ^J^ of those who had applied for a passage on the schooner. Perhaps Tom Somers's experience in the Blue Ridge and on the Shenandoah had improved his stragetic ability, so that his words and his manner seemed plausible. But as strategy and cunning always owe their success to the comparative stupidity of the victims, Tom and his companions gained the half-deck of the schooner more by the palpable blundering of her crew than throudi the brilliancv of their own scheme. Tom did not stop, in the midst of the exciting enter- prise, to determine the particular reason of his success, as we, his humble biographer, have done. He was on the enemy's ground, and confronting the enemy's forces, and logic was as much out of place as rebellion in a free republican country. He was closely followed by Hap- good, and at a later period by Fred Pemberton. The TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 247 nerves of the latter were not remarkably steady, and as he stepped on board the schooner, he neglected to take the painter with him ; and the consequence was, that the boat went adrift. It is good generalship to keep the line of retreat open ; and Fred's neglect had deprived them of all means of retiring from the scene of action. The only alternative was to light their way through, and find safety in success. To Tom's reply, that the party Avere Massachusetts soldiers, the rebel who had acted as spokesman for the crew, uttered a volley of oaths, expressive of his indignation and disgust at the sudden check which had been given to their prosperous voyage. " Surrender ! " repeated Tom, in energetic tones. Two of the rebels at the stern discharged their pis- tols in answer to the summons — a piece of impudence which our Massachusetts soldiers could not tolerate ; and they returned the fire. The secessionists evidently carried revolvers ; and a turn of the barrel enabled them to fire a second volley, which the soldiers were unable to do, for they had no time to load their guns. "01" groaned Fred, as he sunk down upon the half- deck. "I'm hit." " We can't stand this, Hapgood," said Tom, fiercely, as he leaped into the midst of the party in the standing room. " Let's give them the bayonet." 248 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR '* Give it to 'em, Tom I " replied the veteran, as he placed himself by the side of his young companion. " Will you surrender?" demanded Tom, as he thrust vigorously with his bayonet. " We surrender," replied one of the men ; but»it was not the one who had spoken before, for he had dropped off his seat upon the bottom of the boat. *' Give up your pistols, then," added Hapgood. "You look out for the boat, Tom, and I will take care of these fellows." Tom sprang to the position which had been occupied by the spokesman of the party, and grasping the fore- sheet and the tiller of the boat, he soon brought her up to the wind. Seating himself in the stern, he assumed the management of the schooner, while Hapgood busied himself in taking the pistols from the hands of the rebels, and exploring their pockets, in search of other dangerous weapons. "How are you, Fred?" shouted Tom, when the pressing business of the moment had been disposed of. "Are you much hurt?" " I'm afraid my time's most up," replied he, faintly. "Where are you hit?" " In the face ; the ball went through my head, I sup- pose," he added, in tones that were hardly audible, in the warring of the December blast. TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 249 *' Keep up a good heart, Fred, and we will soon be ashore. Have you got an easy place ? '* " No, the water dashes over me." "Can't you move him aft, Hapgood?" *' Pretty soon ; when I get these fellows fixed," re- plied the veteran, who had cut the rope nearest to his hands, and was securing the arms of the prisoners be- hind them. " There is no fear of them now. We have got two revolvers apiece, and we can have it all our own way, if they show fight." But Hapgood had bound the rebels by this time, and with tender care he lifted his wounded companion down into the standing room, and made him as comfortable as the circumstances would permit. "Now, where are w-e, Hapgood?" asked Tom, who had been vainly peering ahead to discover some familiar object by which to steer. '• I can't see the first thing." " I don't know where we are," replied Hapgood. " I never was much of a sailor, and I leave the navi- gating all to you." " I can navigate w^ell enough, if I knew where we were," added Tom, who had thus far been utterly un- able to ascertain the " ship's position." During the brief struggle for the possession of the schooner, she had drifted some distance, which had caused the new commander to lose his bearinsrs. The 250 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR shore they had just left had disappeared, as though it ha.d been swallowed up by an earthquake. No lights were allowed on shore, where they could be seen from the river, for they afforded so many targets to the artillery- men in the rebel batteries. The more Tom tried to discover a familiar object to steer by, the more it seemed as though the land and every thing else had been cut adrift, and emigi'ated to foreign parts. Those who have been in a boat in a very dark night, or in a dense fog, will be able to appreciate the bewilderment of the skipper of the captured schooner. *' Look out, Tom, that you don't rim us into some of those rebel batteries," said Hapgood, after he had watched the rapid progress of the boat for a few mo- ments. '• A shot from a thirty-two pounder ■would be a pill we couldn't swallow." " Xo danger of that, Hapgood," answered Tom, confidently. " I don't know about that, my boy," answered the veteran, in a tone heavy with dire anxiety. " I know it. The schooner was running with the wind on her starboard quarter when we boarded her. "We are now close-hauled, and of course we can't make the shore on the other side while we are on this tack." " Well, I don't know much about it, Tom, but if you say it's all right, I'm satisfied ; that's all. I'd trust TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY. 251 you just as far as I would General McClennon, and you know we all b'lieve in him." " What are you going to do with us ? " asked one of the rebels, who began to exhibit some interest in the fate of the schooner. *' I suppose you will find good quarters in Fort McHenry," replied Tom. ''Where do you belong?" " In Baltimore." "What are you doing here, then?" u ^g gQ \^ fQj. ii^g South." " Go in, then ! " added Tom, laughing. " You'll fetch up where all the rest of 'em do," said Hapgood. " How's that fellow that was hit?" asked Tom, point- ing to the rebel who lay in the middle of the standing room. "I guess it's all right with him," replied Hapgood, bending over the silent form. " No ; he isn't dead." " I have it I " shouted Tom, suddenly crowding the helm hard-a-lee. "What, Tom?" " I see where* we are. We are running up the river. I see the land on the weather bow." The schooner was put about, and after running with the wind amidships for ten or fifteen minutes, Tom dis- covered the outline of Mrs. Budd's house, which was directly under the guns of the Union battery. 252 ^-^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR *' Stand by the fore halliards, Hapgood," said Tom, as the boat came about again. " Let go ! " The foresail came do\vu, and Tom sprang upon the pier, as the schooner came up under its lee. In a mo- ment the boat was made fast. By this time the pickets appeared. " ^ATio comes there?" demanded the soldier. *' Friends ! " replied Tom. " Advance, friend, and give the countersign." *' Little Mac," whispered the soldier boy in the ear of the sentinel. "Who are you?" " Co. K." answered Tom. "What's the row? The long roll was beat just now, and the whole regiment is in line. What was that firing?" " We have captured this boat, and five prisoners, one of them wounded, if not dead." '" Bully for you," replied the picket. They were soon joined by a squad of men, and Fred Pemberton and the wounded rebel were conveyed to the hospital, while the four prisoners were conducted to a secure place. Hapgood and Tom then hastened to the parade, where the regiment was drawn up, and reported the events which had just transpired. It was unanimously voted by officers and privates that the picket guard had done " a big thing," and they were TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 253 warmlj and generously commended for their skill and bravery. Hapgood and Tom requested permission to go to the hospital and see their companion. They found that the surgeon had already dressed his wound. '* Will he die? " asked Tom, full of solicitude for his friend. " Die ! no ; it's a mere scratch. The ball ploughed into his cheek a little way," replied the surgeon. '* It isn't a bad wound. He was more scared than hurt." " I am glad it is no worse," said Captain Benson, who, with fatherly solicitude for his men, had come to the hospital as soon as the company was dismissed. *' But what ails you, Tom? You look pale." " Nothing, captain." " Are you sure?" " I don't think I am badly hurt. I believe one of those pistol balls grazed my side ; but I hardly felt it." " Let me see," said the surgeon. The doctor opened Tom's coat, and his gray shirt was found to be saturated witli blood. " That's a worse wound than Pemberton's. Didn't you know it, Tom?" '' Well, of course I know it ; but I didn't think it was any thing," replied Tom, apologetically. '' I knew it wouldn't do to drop down, or we should all be in Dixie in half an hour." 22 254 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR " You are ray man for the present," said the doctor, as he proceeded to a further examination of the wound. Tom was hit in the side by one of the pistol bullets. As I have not the surgeon's report of the case, T cannot give a minute description of it ; but he comforted Hap- good and the captain with the assurance that, though severe, it was not a dangerous wound. " Tom Somers, there's a sergeant's warrant in Com- pany K for one of you three men," said Captain Ben- son, when the patient was comfortably settled upon his camp bed, " The colonel told me to give him the name of the most deserving man in my company." " Give it to Tom," said Hapgood, promptly. " He led off in this matter, and eft hadn't been for him, we should all have been on t'other side of the river, and p'raps on t'other side of Jordan, afore this time. And then, to think that the poor fellow stood by, and handled the boat like a commodore, when the life-blood was runnin' out of him all the time I It belongs to Tom." " Give it to Tom," added Fred, who lay near the patient. " Xo, Captain Benson," interposed Tom, faintly. " Hapgood is an old soldier, and deserves it more than I do. Give it to him, and I shall be better satisfied than if you give it to me." " Tom Somers ! " exclaimed old Hapgood, a flood of tears sliding down his furrowed cheeks, " I won't stand TOM SOMERS IN THE ARMY. 255 nothin' of the sort ! I'd jump into the river and drownd myself before I'd take it, after what you've done." " You are both worthy of it," added Captain Benson. " Please give it to Ilapgood," pleaded Tom. " He first proposed going out after the little schooner." " Give it to Tom, cap'm. It'll help heal his wound," said Hapgood. '' No ; it would do me more good to have you receive it," protested Tom. " Well, here, I can't have this battle fought in the hospital," interposed the surgeon. " They are good friends, captain, and whichever one you give it to, the other will be suited. You had better settle the case at head-quarters." " If you please, Captain Benson, I would like to have Hapgood stay Avith me to-night, if he can be spared." The veteran was promptly detailed for hospital duty, and the captain returned to his quarters to decide the momentous question in regard to the sergeant's warrant. 256 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR CHAPTER XXVI. TOM IS SEXTIiEENTAL. /^^^HE little schooner which the picket guard had 1 I captured was loaded with valuable supplies for ^^jy the rebels, which of course were confiscated without ceremony. The mail basr which was on board contained a great many letters from traitors in Balti- more, some of whom were exposed by the capture of their treasonable correspondence. Tom's wound proved to be more serious than even the surgeon had anticipated ; but the best care which it was possible to give in a military hospital was bestowed upon him. Old Hapgood, in recognition of his services on that eventful night, was permitted to be near the patient as much as the interests of the service would permit ; and the old man was happy when seated by the rude couch of the soldfer boy, ministering to his necessities, or cheering him with bright hopes of the future. A strong friendship had grown up between them, for Tom's kind heart and brave conduct produced a deep impres> sion upon the old man. TOM SOMERS IS THE ARMY. 257 '^ Here, Tom," said Captain Benson, as he approached the sufferer, a few days after he entered the hospital, and laid a paper upon the bed. " Here's a prescription' which the colonel says you must take." " What is it?" asked Tom. with a faint smile. *' A sergeant's warrant." " G-lory, glory, hallelujah, as we go marching on I " exclaimed old Hapgood, jumping up like a youth^of six- teen, and SAvinging his cap above his head. ''Shut up. there!" shouted the hospital steward. " Don't you know any better than to make such a racket in this place?" '' I beg pardon, Jameson. I forgot where I was," apologized the veteran. -The news was so good 'l couldn't help it. Our Tom is a sergeant now ! " "Not yet, Hapgood," replied Tom, feebly. '^ I can't accept it, Captain Benson ; it belongs to Hapgood, sir, and I shall feel a great deal better if you put his name in place of mine." ••Don't do it, eap'n!" interposed the old man vehemently. " Tom shall be a brigadier general if' the war lasts one year more. I should feel like a whipped kitten if that warrant was altered." " The matter has been fully and fairly considered at head-quarters, and there is no such thing as alter- ing the decision now;. so, Tom, you can put the stripes on your arm just as .«oon as you please." oo ^ 258 '^JJ^ SOLDIER BOY, OR Hapgood insisted, tlie surgeon insisted, and the cap- tain insisted ; and Tom was too sick to hold way with them in an argument, and his name was placed npon the roster of the company as a sergeant. He was proud of the distinction which had been conferred upon him, though he thought Hapgood, as an older and abler soldier, was better entitled to the honor than himself. It was six weeks before Tom was able to enter upon the actual enjoyment of the well-merited pro- motion which he had Avon by liis gallantry ; but when he appeared before the company with the chevron of the sergeant upon his arm, he was lustily cheered by his comrades, and it was evident that the appointment was a very, popular one. Xot even the grumblers, of whom there is a full quota in every regiment, deemed it prudent to gi'owl at the decision of the officers. If any one ventured to suggest that he was too young to be placed over older and stronger men, his friends replied, that men in the army were measured by bravery and skill, not by years. If my young readers wish to know why Tom's ap- pointment was so well received by his companions in arms, I can only reply, that he had not only been brave and cheerful in the midst of peril and hardship, but he Avas kind and obliging to his comrades. He had always been willing to help those that needed TO.U SOMEJiS IX THE ARMY. 259 help, to sympathize with those in trouble, and gener- ally to do all he could to render those around him happy. Above all these considerations, Tom was a young man of high principle. He had obeyed his mother's parting injunction, often repeated in the letters which came to him from home, and had faithfully "read his Testament." Without being a hypocrite or a canting saint, Tom carried about with him the true elements of Christian character. Tom had fought a greater battle than that in which he had been engaged at Bull Run a hundred times, in resisting the temptations which beset him from within and without. True to God and true to him- self, he had Avon the victory. Though his lot was cast in the midst of men who swore, gambled, and drank liquor, he had shunned these vices, and loved the sinner while he hated the sin. Such a person could not fail to win the respect of his companions. Tliough he had been jeered at and insulted for being sober, honest, and pious, he had fought down and lived down all these vilifiers, and won their esteem. It must be acknowledged tliat Tom's piety was of the robust type. lie would not allow any man to in- sult him ; and after the chastisement he had given Ben Lethbridge, not even those who were strong enough to whip him were disposed to trespass upon his rights and 260 ^-^-^ SOLDIER BOY, OR dignity. Perhaps Tom's creed needed a little revising ; but he lived under martial la-sv, which does not take cognizance of insults and revilincrs. He was willinj? to be smitten on the one cheek, and on the other also, for the good of his country, or even his friends, but not to be wantonly insulted. The influence of Tom's principles was not conflned to himself, for " a little leaven leaveneth the Avhole lump." This was particularly true of Hapgood, who, more through Tom's preaching and practice than from any strength in his own character, had steadily main- tained his purpose to abstain from intoxicating drinks, though occasional opportunities were presented for the indulgence of his darlinof vice. Tom and he read the Testament and other good books which were sent to the regiment, and both profited by them. When the soldier boy was discharged from the hos- pital, the surgeon gave him a pair of woollen socks, from a case of them which had been sent by the friends of the soldier in Boston and its vicinity. He was very much in need of them, and from the depths of his heart he blessed the ladies who had done this good work. He tmrolled the socks, and proceeded to pull one of them on. It was as good a fit as though his mother had knit it on purpose for him. "God bless the lady that knit these socks!" ex- claimed Tom, as he berran to draw on the other. TOM SOMJlRS in the ARMY. 261 " Amen ! " replied Hapgood, who was watching the operation in full sympathy with his protege. "Eh! what's this?" added Tom, for his foot had met with an obstruction in its passage down the leg. He pulled off the sock, and thrusting his hand into it, took therefrom a letter enclosed in an envelope. "See that, uncle?" said he, exhibiting the prize. "What is it, Tom? Open it quick," replied Hapgood. The soldier boy broke the envelope, and took from it a note enclosing a photograph. Tom looked at the picture with a feeling of pleasure, which would have caused the original of the miniature, the author of the note, and the author of the socks, to blush .up to her eyes if she had beheld the expression of admiration which glowed upon the handsome, manly face of the young sergeant. " By all that's lovely, isn't she a beauty ! " exclaimed Tom, rapturously, as he glanced from the picture to Hapgood, who was looking over his shoulder. " She's hahnsome, and no mistake," replied the vet- eran, with a grim smile. v|. " Well, she is ! " added Tom, wliose eyes were riveted to the photograph. "Well, why don't you read the letter, Tom?" de- manded the old soldier, after the young man had gazed with blushing cheek upon the sweet face of the author of his socks for full five minutes. 262 '^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR " I guess I -will," said Tom ; but lie did not ; for the picture seemed to be glory and beauty enough to satisfy him for the present. " Read the letter, Tom ! " shouted the veteran, after he had waited as long as the nature of the case seemed to require. The soldier boy carefully placed the photograph in the envelope, and unfolded the letter. It was AATitten in a beautiful hand, which looked as soft and delicate as the fair fingers which had penned the lines. He glanced at it as a whole, admired the penmanship, and the fairy- like symmetry that make up the tout-ensemhle of the page, and was about to. dissolve into another rhapsody, when Hapgood, who was not half so sentimental as the sergeant, became impatient to know the contents of the missive. Tom read it aloud to the stoical veteran ; and though we cannot clothe its sweet words in the fairy chirography Avhich transported our hero, and made the letter a dream of bliss to him, we shall venture to pre- sent it to our curious readers, stiifened and hardened into the dull, cold forms of the printer's art. Xo. — , RrTLAXD Street, Eostox, Xov. 5, 1861. My Dear Soldier : — This is the first pair of socks I ever knit ; and I send tliem to you with my blessing upon the brave defenders of my country. I hope they will keep your feet warm, TOM SOMEJRS IX THE ARMY. 263 autl thus keep your heart warm towards God and our blessed land. Grandma sayg I am a silly girl, and I suppose I am ; but if you feel half as much interest in me as I do in the person who will wear the first pair of socks I ever knit, you will wish to know how I look ; therefore I send you my photograph. I very much desire to know whether my work has done any good ; whether my socks are ever worn in a battle ; and most of all, I desire to know how the noble fellow looks that wears them. Therefore I beg you to answer my letter, and also to send me your photograph, if you can conveniently. Now, my dear soldier, be brave and true, and, above all, do not run away from the rebels with my socks on your feet. You may retreat when your officers order you to retire ; but if you are a coward, and find yourself compelled to run away, please pull them off before you do so, for I should die with mortification if I thought I had knit a pair of socks for a Union sol- dier to run away in. Truly yours, for our flag and our country. Lilian Ashford. '•Well, if that gal ain't a trump, then there ain't no snakes in Virginny ! " exclaimed Hapgood. " She's got the true grit, and no mistake." 264 '^^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR " That's so," replied the recipient of the gift, thought- fully, as he bent down, and began to pull off the sock which encased his left foot. '^ What are you doing?" demanded Hapgood, sur- prised at this new movement of his companion. " I can't wear these socks yet, uncle," replied he. "Why not?" "Don't she say she wants them worn in a battle?'* " Tom. you are a little fool ! " added the veteran, petulantly. '* Are you going with cold feet just to please a silly gal, whose head is as full of moonshine as an e^^g is of meat. Put on the socks, and keep your feet Avarm. If you don't. I'll write to her, and tell what a fool you are." Tom did put them on. but he could not help feeling that uncle Hapgood, as he was familiarly called in the camp, did not understand and appreciate his sentiments. The socks seemed to be too precious to be worn in the vulgar mud of Maryland. To him there was something ethereal about them, and it looked a little like profana- tion to put any thing emanating from the fairy fingers of the original of that photograph, and the author of that letter, upon his feet. " Now you act like a sensible fellow, as you are, Tom," said Hapgood, as the sergeant put on his army brogans. ''Well, uncle, one thins is certain: I never will run TOM SOME-RS IN THE ARMY. 265 away from the rebels with these socks on," added Tom, with a rich glow of enthusiasm. h '' If Gen'l McClennon don't stir his stumps pretty soon, you'll wear 'em out afore you git a chance to run away." Tom, almost for the first time since he had been in the army, wanted to be alone. With those socks on, it seemed just as though he was walking the streets of the New Jerusalem, with heaven and stacks of silver-fringed and golden-tinged clouds beneath his feet, buried up to the eyes in floods of liquid moon- shine. If '• gi'andma " really thought that Lilian Ashford was a silly girl, and if Lilian really supposed so her- self, it must be added, in justification of her conduct, that she had given the soldier boy a new incentive to do his duty nobly, and kindled in his soul a holy aspira- tion to serve God and his country with renewed zeal and fidelity. 23 26(3 ^-^^ SOLDIER BOT, OR CHAPTER XXVII. THE CONFEDERATE DESERTER. (^\^1\ HILE Tom Avas in the hospital, he re- ceived a letter from his sister, informing him that his brother John had actually entered the navy, and with his mother's consent. The news from home was so favorable, that the soldier boy was pleased to hear that J^^ck had realized his darling wish, and that he was now in his element. Intelligence from home, accompanied with letters, papers, books, comforts, and luxuries of various kinds, reached him every two or three Aveeks ; and when the ncAvs Avent back that Tom had been made a sergeant for gallant conduct, there Avas a great sensation in Pinchbrook. The letters which reached him after the receipt of this gratifying announcement contained all the gossip of the place in regard to the important event. Of course, Tom Avas delighted by these letters, and Avas more than ever determined to be diligent and faithful in the discharge of his duties, and never to disgrace the name he bore. He was confident his friends TOM SOML'nS IX THE ARMY. 267 would never liavc occasion to bliisli for his conduct iucluding the original of the photograph, the author of the letter and of the socks. Tom recovered from the effects of his wound, as we have before intimated, and took his place in the regimental line as a sergeant. January and February passed away with- out any very stirring events ; but in the month of March came indications of activity. The rebels began to draw in their lines, by abandoning various points, till the nation was startled hj the evacuation of their stront^lv fortified position at Manassas, and the forts in front of Budd's Ferry were suddenly left for the occupation of the Federal troops. Hooker's men crossed the Potomac, and Tom was once more on the sacred soil of Virginia. Skirmishers were sent out in various directions, and though a deserted camp, which had been liastily abandoned, was found, there were no rebels to be seen. The Union boys were not disposed to leave their investigations at this interest- ing point, and they pursued their way still farther into the country. Somehow or other, Tom and his party did not receive tlie order to return, and the enterprising young hero continued his march in search of further ad- ventures. It was altogether too tame for liim and the congenial spirits in his section to retire without seein*^ a live rebel or two ; and 1 am not sure, if their desire had not been gratified, that they would not have pene- 268 "^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR trated to Fredericksburg, and captured that citadel of rebellion in advance of General Augur, who visited the place in April. As it was, they stumbled upon the pickets of a rebel force, and as soon as their uniform was identified they had the honor of being fii-ed upon, though none of them had the honor of being killed in the midst of their virtual disobedience of orders. But their appearance created a panic among the Confederates, who had no means of knowing that they were not the pioneers of a whole division of Union troops, for General McClellan had removed the spell which bound the loyal army to its camps, and corps, divisions, and brigades were pushing forAvard into the dominion of the traitors. The alarm was given, and Tom saw that he was rush- ing into a bad scrape ; and as prudence is as much a requisite of the good soldier as bravery, he ordered his men to fall back. Rebels are very much like ill-natured curs, ever ready to pursue a retreating foe, or run away from an advancing one. The Confederates chased them, and as the legs of the former seemed to be in remarkably good condition, the sergeant came to the conclusion that it would not be safe to run too fast. " Halt ! " shouted he ; and the men promptly obeyed the order. They discharged their muskets, and then made a demonstration towards the enemy, who, obeying their TOM SO,\fLHS JX THE ARMY. 269 instinct, ran away as fast as their legs would carry them. Taking advantage of this movement on their part, Tom again ordered a retreat. *' They are after us again," said Hapgood. " I hope there ain't no cavalry within hearing. If there is, we may take a journey to Richmond." '• They have stopped to load their guns," replied Tom. " We will use our legs now." " See that, Tom ! " said Hapgood, suddenly. "What?" " There's one of them rushing towards us all alone." " He has thro\vn up his gun. The others are yelling to him to come back. What does that mean ? " *' He is a deserter ; he wants to get away from them. There he comes." " Yes, and there comes the rest of them — the whole rebel army — more than a million of them," said Fred Pemberton. " It's time for us to be going." " See ! They are firing at him. Forward ! " added Tom, leading the way. The party rushed forward, for a short distance ; but the dozen rebels had been reenforced, and it was mad- ness to rush into the very teeth of danger. Tom ordered his men to halt and fire at will. The deserter, probably finding that he was between two fires, turned aside from the direct course he was pursuing, and sought shelter in the woods. The sergeant then directed his men to 270 ^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR retire, for whether the retreat of the runaway rebel was covered or not, it was no longer safe to remain. Fortunately the Confederates were more in doubt than the Unionists ; and perhaps expecting to fall upon a larger body of the latter, they abandoned the pursuit, and returned to their posts. Nothing was seen of the deserter for some time, and Tom concluded that he had lost his way in the woods, or had missed the direction taken by the Federal scouts. " He was a plucky fellow, any how," said one of the men, '• to attempt to run away in the very face of his -companions." " Well, he timed it well, for he started just when their guns were all empty," added another. " I'm not sorry he missed us," continued Hapgood. " I don't like a desarter, no how. It goes right agin my grain." " But he Avas running from the wrong to the right side," replied Tom. " I don't keer if he was. Them colors on t'other side were his'n. He chose 'em for himself, and it's mean to run away from 'em. If a man's go'n to be a rebel, let him be one, and stick to it." " You don't know any thing about it, uncle. Thou- sands of men have been forced into the rebel army, and I don't blame them for getting out of it the best way they can. I should do so." TOM SOMERS IX THE ARMY 2/1 " That ,«ay be, Tom ; (hat may be," added the vet- erat,, takins off his cap and rubbing his bald head, a. though a new idea had penetrated it. " I didn't tliink of that." "He's a brave man, wlioever he is, and whatever he is." " He must want to get away from 'em pretty bad, or he wouldn't have run that risk. I shouldn't wonder if they hit liim." " Perhaps he is wounded, and gone into the woods there to die," suggested Tom. " Halloo ! " shouted some one in the rear of them. " There's jour man," said Hapgood. " Halloo ! " cried the same voice. "Halloo, yourself!" shouted Hapgood in reply to the hail. . "^ The party halted, and after waiting a few moments, the rebel deserter came in sight. He was apparently a n.an of fifty ; and no mendicant of St. Giles, who followed I'cggmg as a profession, could have given himself a more ^iit he's gone into the navy. He was bound to be in tlie light any liou'." "John's a chip of the oM blork. lie wanted to snufF the salt water afore he was a week old. John's a good sailor, and he ought to have a good lay wher- ever he goes," added the father. Captain Somers and Tom sat upon the ground for half an hour, until tlie fugitive from the rebel army was in some degi'ee rested after the hard run he had had through the woods. The soldiers gath- ered around them, as much interested as though they had been members of the Somers family. Tom's father had a multitude of questions to ask about Pinch- brook and its people, all of Avhich were answered to his satisfaction. The sergeant thought it -^vas time for the party to move on, and his father declared that he was able to walk any distance which would bring him nearer to the home of his wife and children. The order was given, and the little band resumed its march. "How have vou bi'cn all tliis time, father?" asked Tom, as he walked along by the side of Captain Somers. "I've been pretty faiily most of the time. I'm tough and hardy, or I should have been dead afore this time. AVe've been half starved and half frozen 24 278 'J^^^^ SOLDIER BOY, OR in the camp ; but I managed to live through it, hoping and expecting to get away from those rascally rebels." "Where have you been all the time?" asked Tom. "Have you been in the rebel army long?" " About four months ; but I may as well begin at the beginning, and tell you the whole story," added the cap- tain. " I got to Norfolk ail right, and was there when the news came up that the rebels had taken Sumter. Every body was mad, and I was as mad as the rest of them, though not exactly in the same way. I let on a little with my tongue, and came pretty near being tarred and feathered, and I think I should have been, if your uncle W}Tnan hadn't interfered." "Did he settle with you, ffither?" " After a while he did. He had some fifteen thousand dollars in Xew York, which had just been sent over from England, and as he was secesh, he was terribly afeard the Lincoln government would confiscate it ; so he settled with me, and gave me a power of attorney to draw his money, pay myself, and take care of what was over. I've got the papers safe in my waistbands now." "Good! Glory,hallelujah!" shouted Tom. "JTecan pay off* old Pemberton now, for it goes against my grain to OM'e a dollar to a traitor. But if uncle "Wyman is a rebel, and I suppose he is, I hope the government will confiscate what's over after you have paid yourself." TO.U SO^fEJiS IX THE A B .yf Y . 279 *' AVell, I don't know. AVe will see about that biraeby. He used me fiiir, and I don't wish him any harm ; but I hate his principles. Well, just then, Tom, Avhen I had got my accounts squared, the rascals took my vessel, and sunk it in the channel to keep the Union fleet out. My pipe was out then, and I couldn't do any thing more. I hung round the city of Norfolk till I saw there was no chance to get out in that direction ; and then I left. I was up near Bull Run — the rebels call it Manassas — when the battle was fought ; but our folks got licked so badly, that it was no use to try to get through there. " I tried half a dozen times to craAvl through, and had nearly starved to death in the woods ; but some rebel cavalry pickets spied me out, called me a traitor, and sent me back. My money was all gone by this time, and I went over to Norfolk again. Your uncle Wyman told me I had better keep quiet where I was, for just as sure as his name was Somers, the North would all fall to pieces in less than six months. He expected the rebel army would be in New York afore long, and I should be a great deal better off where I was. He tried to get a pass to send me through the rebel lines, but he couldn't do it. '• Things went on in this way till your uncle Wyman went to Charleston on business, and I haven't seen him from that day to this. The rebels tried to make me go into their navy, but I wouldn't do it, of course ; but 2g0 "^^^ SOLDIER- BOY, OR when I couldn't do any other way, I went into the army, hoping I should be sent to the front, and find a chance to oXKcK= I. RICH A:XI> HXT>rBLE; Or, The IVtission. of Bertha Grrant. II. rX SCHOOL J^JVO OXJT; Or, The ConcLiiest of Richard GJ-rant. III. Or, the Yol-iiaa: Fugiti^-es. (In preparation.) IV. (In preparatiun.) V. HOI»E ^>I> HAVE. (In preparstton.) VT. (In preparation.) LEE & SHEPARD, Publishers. RIVE RD ALE STORY BOOKS. BY OLI^^EK OPTIC. 12 vols., in ucat box. I. THE LITTI-iE lS/i:EI^OHA.lSrT. THEE T^'OXJlSrO "VO"^uA.Ca-ER,S- III. 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