Chapter I: Break My Musket (4)

"Well, you were giving it to me last night; now be so good as to give it."

"Better feel Mr. Berwick's pulse first, Father."

"You people are leagued against me," said he; "and I shall proceed to punish you."

"By refusing me?"

"No; by giving it to you. I said, did I not, that rebellion does not necessarily bring war?"

"That is the postulate," I replied.

"Then, first, what is rebellion?"

"Rebellion," said I, "rebellion--rebellion," seeking a definition, "rebellion is armed hostility, within a nation or state, to the legalized government of the nation or state."

"I am willing to accept that," said the Doctor; "now let us see if there have not been cases of rebellion without war. What do you say of Jeroboam and the ten tribes?"

"I say that there was about to be war, and the Almighty put a stop to it."

"That is all I pray for," said the Doctor; "then, what do you say of Monk?"

"What Monk?"

"The general of the commonwealth, who restored Charles the Second."

"Monk simply decided a dilemma," said I. "I don't count that a rebellion; the people were glad to settle matters."

"Well, we won't count Monk; what do you say--"

"No more, Doctor," I interrupted; "I admit that rebellion does not bring war when, the other party won't fight."

"But it is wrong to fight," he said.

"Then every rebellion ought to succeed," said I.

"Certainly it ought, at least for a time. What I am contending is that every revolution should be peaceable. Would not England have been wiser if she had not endeavoured to subdue the colonies? Suppose the principle of peace were cherished: the ideas that would otherwise cause rebellion would be patiently tested; the men of new or opposite ideas would no longer be rebels; they would be statesmen; a rebellion would be accepted, tried, and defeated by a counter rebellion, both peaceable. It is simply leaving things to the will of the majority. Right ideas will win, no matter what the opposition to them. Better change the arena of conflict. A single champion of an idea would once challenge a doubter and prove his hypothesis by the blood of the disputant; you do the same thing on a great scale. The Southern people--very good people as you and I have cause to know--think the constitution gives them the right, or rather cannot take away the right, to withdraw from the Union; you Northern people think they deserve death for so thinking, and you proceed to kill them off; you intend keeping it up until too few of them are left to think fatally; but they _will_ think, and your killing them will not prove your ideas right."

"And so you would settle it by letting them alone? Yes, I know that is what you think should be done. But how about slavery?" I asked, thinking to touch a tender spot.

"The North should have rebelled peaceably against slavery; many a Southern man would have joined this peaceable rebellion; the idea would have won, not at once, neither will this war be won at once; but the idea would have won, and under such conditions, I mean with the South knowing that the peaceable extension of knowledge concerning principle was involved, instead of massacre according to the John Brown idiocy, a great amelioration in the condition of the slave would have begun immediately. The South, would have gradually liberated the slaves."

"Doctor, you are saying only that we are far from perfection."

"No; I am saying more than that; I am saying that we ought to have ideals, and strive to reach them."

* * * * *

On the 12th we learned that Hooker's division had landed at Ship Point, and had formed part of the lines investing Yorktown. On the next day I rejoined my company. Willis gave a yell when he saw me coming. The good fellow was the same old Willis--strong, brave, and generous. We soon went off for a private chat.

"What have you been doing with, yourself all this time?" he asked.

"I've been with. Dr. Khayme--at Newport News, you know. Our camp was never moved once; what have you been doing?"

"Same old thing--camp guard, and drill, and waiting our turn to come. Say, Berwick, do you know the new drill?"

"What new drill?"

"Hardee."

"You don't say!"

"Fact. Whole division."

"Do you like it better?"

"Believe I do."

"We'll have no time to drill here," said I; "we'll have enough to do of another sort."

Yet I was compelled to make the change, which referred to the manual of arms, Hardee's tactics, in which system the piece is carried in the right hand at shoulder arms, having been substituted for Scott's, which provides for the shoulder on the left side. There was no actual drill, however, and my clumsy performance--clumsy compared with that of the other men of the company who had become accustomed to the change--was limited to but little exercise, and was condoned by the sergeants because of my inexperience.

I noticed that Willis did not mention Lydia's name. I did not expect him to mention it, though. I knew he was wanting to hear of her; and I did not feel that I ought to volunteer in giving him information concerning the young lady. He asked me about Dr. Khayme, however, and thus gave me the chance to let him know that the Doctor himself would move his quarters to the rear of our lines, but that his daughter would remain at the hospital at Newport News until the army should advance beyond Yorktown.

And now, for almost a full month, we fronted the rebel lines of Yorktown. Our regiment was in the trenches much of the time, and frequently in the rifle-pits. The weather was bad; rain fell almost every other day, and at night we suffered from cold, especially on the picket-lines, where no fires were allowed. I suppose I stood the hardships as well as most of the men, but I could not have endured much more. Willis's programme of the campaign had been completely upset; he had said that we should take Yorktown in a week and pursue the routed rebels into Richmond, and now we were doing but little--so far as we could see--to bring matters to a conclusion. The artillery of the rebels played on our lines; and our guns replied; the pickets, too, were frequently busy popping away at each other, and occasionally hitting their marks. Ever since the siege of Yorktown, where I saw that great quantities of lead and iron were wasted, and but few men hurt,--though Dr. Khayme maintained that the waste became a crime when men were killed,--I have had a feeling of disgust whenever I have read the words "unerring rifles." More lies have been told about wars and battles, and about the courage of men, and patriotism, and so forth, than could be set down in a column of figures as long as the equator. From April 13 to May 4 the casualties of the Army of the Potomac before Yorktown did not reach half of one per cent. The men learned speedily to dodge shells, and I remember hearing one man say that he dodged a bullet. He saw a black spot seemingly stationary, and knew at once that the thing was coming in a straight line for his eye. The story was swallowed, but I think nobody believed it, except the hero thereof, who was a good soldier, however, and ordinarily truthful. How can you expect a man, who is supremely interested in a small incident, to think it small? For my part, it was a rarity to see even a big shell, unless it was a tired one. I dodged per order, mostly. Of course, when I saw the smoke of a cannon, and knew that the cannon was looking toward me, I got under cover without waiting for the long roll; but it was amusing sometimes to hear fellows cry out, "I see a shell coming this way," at the smoke of a gun, and have everybody seeking shelter, when no sound of a shell would follow, the missile having gone into the woods half a mile to our right or left.

I grew more attached to Willis. If the Army of the Potomac had in its ranks any better soldier than this big red-headed sergeant, I never saw him. He was ready for any duty, no matter what: to lead a picket squad into its pits under fire; to serve all night on the skirmish detail in place of a sick friend; to dig and shoot and laugh, and swear, in everything he was simply superb. That I do not quote his cuss-words must not be taken as an indication, that they were commonplace. Everything he did he did with his might, almost violently. He was a good shot, too, within the range of the smooth-bore. The rebel pickets--most of them--seemed to be better armed than we were; it was said that they had received some cargoes of long Enfields--nine hundred yards' range, according to the marked sights, and no telling how far beyond--by blockade-runners. They could keep us down behind the pits while they would walk about as they chose, unless a shell from one of our batteries was flung at them, in which case they showed that they, too, had been studying the dodging lesson. Willis was greatly disgruntled over the fact that the rebels were the better armed, and frequently his temper got the upper hand of him. A bullet went through his hat one day when he was trying vainly to pick off a man in a rifle-pit; Willis's bullet would cut the dirt a hundred yards too short; the Enfield Minié ball would go a-kiting over our heads and making men far to our rear look out. Sometimes Willis was very gloomy, and I attributed this condition to his passion for Lydia, though, on such a subject he never opened his mouth to me.

One dark rainy night, about the 21st, I believe, Willis and I were both on the picket detail. It came my time for vedette duty, and Willis was the sergeant to do the escort act. There had been skirmishing on this part of the line the preceding day, but at sunset, or the hour for sunset if the weather had been fair, the firing had ceased as we marched up and relieved the old pickets. We were in the woods, the most of us, but just here, on the right of our own detail, there were a few rifle-pits in the open, the opposing skirmish, lines being perhaps four hundred yards apart, and our vedette posts--we maintained them only at night--being about sixty yards in advance of our pits, and always composed of three men for each post. We found our three men numb with, cold, two lying near the edge o£ the woods, in a big hole made by a shell, while the other stood guard. They had seen nothing and heard nothing except the ordinary sounds of the night. The clouds reflected the peculiar glow of many fires in front. It was not long till day. The two men, my companions on post, whispered together, and then proposed that I should take the first watch. Willis had returned to the line with the relieved vedettes. I had no objection to taking the first watch, yet I hesitated, simply because the two men had whispered. I fancied there was some reason for the request, and I asked bluntly why they had decided it was my turn without giving me a voice in the matter. You know it is the custom to decide such affairs by lot, unless some man volunteers for the worst place. They replied that they were old friends, and that as I was a stranger to them, the detail being made up from various companies, they preferred lying together.

This explanation did not seem very satisfactory, for the reason that in two hours we should all be relieved; yet I consented, and they lay down in the hole, which was little more than a mud-puddle, for fear of some sudden volley from the rebels.

The position of the man on watch at this point was just at the left oblique from the other men, say about ten paces, and very near to a tree which stood apart from the rest of the forest, a scraggy pine of second growth, not very tall, but thick and heavy, with its limbs starting from the trunk as low as eight feet from the ground. I stood near this tree, within reach of it by a leap. Our nearest vedette posts, right and left, were a hundred yards from me--the one on the left being in the woods, that on the right in the open. The country called the Peninsula is low and flat and very swampy in many parts, and the great quantity of rain that had now fallen for days and days had rendered the whole land a loblolly, to use a common figure. I saw that just in front of me, about thirty yards, there was a shallow ravine, and I began to think that it was possible for an enterprising squad of rebels to sneak through this ravine and get very near us before we knew it, and perhaps capture us; such things had been done, if the truth was told, not only by the rebels, but by many other people at war.

Beyond the ravine were the Confederates, their skirmish line about three hundred yards beyond it, and their nightly vedette posts nobody knew where, for they used similar economy to ours in withdrawing their vedettes in the day. The Doctor's talks, many of which I can but barely mention, had opened my eyes a little to the possibility of accurate inferences, that is to say, his philosophy of cause and effect, or purpose, as he liked better to call it, had been urged upon me so frequently and so profoundly that I had become more observant; he had made me think of the relations of things. Philosophy, he had said, should be carried into everyday life and into the smallest matters; that was what made a good fisherman, a good farmer, a good merchant, and a good soldier, provided, he had added, there could be such a thing. This ravine, then, had attracted me from the first. I saw that it presented opportunity. A few rebels might creep along it, get into the woods, make prisoners of the vedettes on several posts, and then there would be a gap through which our skirmish line might be surprised.

I went quietly forward in the edge of the woods until I stood near the ravine, and examined it as well as I could for the darkness. It did not extend into the forest, for the roots of the trees there protected the soil from washing away. The undergrowth at my left was not very dense; I judged that in daylight one could see into the forest a hundred yards or more. At my right, the gully began and seemed to widen and deepen as it went, but nothing definite could I make out; all was lost in the night.

My examination of the spot had been made very quickly, for I was really transgressing rule in leaving my post, even for a more forward place but thirty yards away, and I was back at my tree in less than a minute.

The two men were yet lying in the hole; they had not observed my short absence, I was glad to see. I did not know these men, and I would not like them to know that I had left my post. Yet I felt that I had done right in leaving it; I had deserted it, technically speaking, but only to take a proper precaution, in regard to the post itself. Then, what is a man's post? Merely the ground with which the soles of his feet are in touch? If he may move an inch, how far may he move? Yet I was glad that the men had not seen me move and come back, and I was glad, too, that they had made the proposal that I should take the first watch, for I had discovered danger that must be remedied at once. It was almost time now for one of these men to take my place.

My fear increased. The motionless men at my right, unconscious of any new element of danger, added to my nervousness. I must do something.

I walked to the men and spoke in a low tone.

"Who stands watch next?"

"Me. But it's not time yet."

"Not quite," I said; "but it will be soon. I want you to go back to the line and tell Sergeant Willis that I'd like to see him a minute."

"Go yourself," he said; "I'm not under your orders."

"If you will do what I ask, I'll take your watch for you," said I.

The tempting offer was accepted at once; the man rose and said, "What is it you say I'm to tell him?"

The other man also had risen.

"Only that I want to see him."

"Anything wrong?"

"No; tell him I want to see him for a moment out here; that is all."

The man went; his companion remained standing--he had become alarmed, perhaps.

When Willis came I was under the tree.

"What's up, Jones?"

"I want to know what that dark line means there in front."

"It's a gully," says he.

"I wish you would go out there and look about you; I think our post ought to be where we can see into it."

"All right," said he; "I'll go and look at it."

I remained on post. It would not do, I thought, to give any intimation to the men that I had been to the ravine; they were standing near me.

In two minutes Willis returned.

"Jones," says he; "move your post up here. You men stay where you are."

We went out together, Willis and I, to the edge of the ravine.

"You're right, Jones," he says, in a whisper; "the post ought to be here."

"Yes; it would be easy for those fellows over yonder to surprise us. This ravine ought to be watched in the day even."

The sergeant showed no intention of leaving me; he seemed to be thinking. Suddenly he gave his thigh, a resounding slap.

"There!" says he, "now I've done it--but maybe they won't know what that noise means. Say, Jones, I've got an idea."

"Let's have it."

"We can get lots of fun out here."

"I don't understand. What are you driving at?"

"Well," says he, "you just leave it all to me. Don't you say a word to them fellows. I'll fix it up and let you in, too. Just be mum now, old man."

"Tell me what you mean."

But he had already started back.

It ought to be showing signs of day behind me, I was thinking; yet the weather was bad, and, although it had stopped raining, I knew that in all likelihood we should have a thick fog which would prolong the duty of the vedettes and make another relief necessary.

When Willis appeared again, three other men were following--good men of Company D. I could hear him say to my two fellows; "Go on back to the line; your time's not up, but you are relieved."

When he reached me, he put Thompson in my place, and led the way back a short distance and into the edge of the woods.

"Now, men," says he; "we're going to make a fort of that ravine. We want to fill these sand-bags, and we want some straw or something to screen them. Jones, you must go twenty yards or so beyond the gully till I whistle for you, or call you. The rest of us will do the work while you watch."

The sergeant's little scheme for having his fun was now clear enough. One of the party had brought a spade, and I noticed that others seemed to have come up in no light marching order. Willis meant to occupy the ravine and remain for the day, if possible, in this advanced post, so near the rebels that his bullets would not fall short. It was all clear enough.

The party had begun work before I went forward. Passing Thompson, I skirted the edge of the woods, and went some thirty or forty yards to my right oblique in the open, and then lay flat, with my eyes to the front. Soon I heard muffled sounds behind me; the men were filling the sand-bags. My position cramped me, my neck became stiff. No sound reached me from the front; I supposed that the nearest rebel vedette was not nearer than two hundred yards, unless at a point more advanced from his lines there was some natural protection for him. But what prevented my being surprised from the woods on my left? I lay flat and stiffened my neck; light was beginning to show.

At length I heard Willis call me, and I didn't make him call twice. The ravine, as the light became greater, showed itself almost impregnable against an equal force of skirmishers. Just where an angle in the western edge presented a flank of wall toward the north, Willis and his gang had cut away the earth into a shelf some three feet beneath the top. Ten sand-bags filled with earth surmounted the summit, with open spaces between, in order that a musket might be fired through, these handy port-holes, and the sand-bags were covered with sedge from the open field. I congratulated our commander on his engineering feat.

The sun had risen, perhaps, but the fog had not lifted; we could yet see neither enemy nor friend. Willis put me on the right, and reserved the centre for his own piece; the centre happened to be about two feet nearer the enemy. From left to right the line was manned by Freeman, Holt, Willis, Thompson, Berwick.

"Men, attention!" says Willis.

"Take the caps off of your pieces!"

The order was obeyed, the men looking puzzled. Willis condescended to explain that we must fire a volley into a crowd as Act First; that any man who should yield to the temptation to fire without orders, was to be sent back to the line at once.

Slowly the fog began to break; the day would be fair. Suddenly a bullet whistled overhead; then the report came from the rebel side.

"Be quiet, men!" says Willis.

Everybody had rushed to his place.

"Eat your breakfast," says Willis.

We had no coffee; otherwise we fared as usual.

"The rebels have no coffee, neither," says Willis.

The breakfast was being rapidly swallowed.

"Hello, there!" shouts Willis, and springs for the spade.

Another bullet had whistled above us, this one from our own line in the rear.

The spade was wielded vigorously by willing hands, passing from one to another, until a low rampart, but thick, would protect our heads from the fire of our skirmish line. Meantime the fusillade from both sides continued.

Willis was at the parapet.

"Look out!" he cries.

A shell passed just above us, and at once a shower of bullets from the rebels.

"Here, men, quick!" says Willis.

We sprang to the embrasures. The rebels were plainly visible three hundred yards away, their heads distinct above their pits. Our skirmish line behind us seemed gone; the shell had been fired not at us but at our skirmishers, and the volley we had heard had been but the supplement of the artillery fire--all for the purpose of getting full command of our line, on which not a man now dared to show his head, for a dozen Minié balls would go for it at the moment. Unquestionably the rebels had not detected our little squad.

"Prime, men!" says Willis.

The guns were capped.

"Now, hold your fire till the word!"

Very few shots were now coming. The rebels were having it all their own way, nobody replying to them. Their bodies to their waists could be seen; some of them began to walk about a little, for they were not in any sort of danger, that is, from our line. They were firing with a system: pit No. 1 would send a ball, then in ten seconds, pit No. 2, and so on down their line, merely to keep the advantage they had gained. At irregular intervals two or three shots would be sent at some dummy--a hat or coat held up by the bayonets of men behind the pits in our rear.

"_Ready!_" says Willis.

Three men were in a group between two of the pits. Another joined them.

"_Aim! Fire!_"

Five triggers were pulled.

"Two down, by the--!" roared Willis, with, a more remarkable oath, than any I ever saw in print.

The wind was from the southeast, and the smoke had rolled my way; I had been unable to see the result. In fact, I could hardly see anything. Put yourself in a hole, and raise your head until your eyes are an inch, or two above the surface of ground almost level--what can you see? But for a slight depression between us and the rebels, the position would have been worthless; yet every evil, according to Dr. Khayme, has its use, or good side--our fortress was hidden from the enemy, who would mistake it, if they saw it at all, for one of the pits in our rear, perspective mingling our small elevation with the greater ones beyond.

We had leaped back into the ravine, which, here was fully eight feet deep and roomy, and were ramming cartridges. All at once a rattle of firearms was heard at the rear. Our skirmish-line had taken advantage of the diversion brought, and had turned the tables; not a shot was coming from the front.

Freeman looked through an embrasure. "Not a dam one in sight," he said.

Time was passing; the fire of our skirmishers continued; we were doing nothing, and were nervously expectant.

Holt wished for a pack of cards.

A council of war was held. Thompson was fearful of our left; a gang of rebels might creep through the woods and take us; we were but sixty yards from the woods. Willis had confidence that our line could protect us from such a dash; "they would kill every man of 'em before they could git to us." To this Thompson replied that if the rebels should again get the upper hand, and make our men afraid to show their heads, the rebels could come on us from the woods without great danger. Willis admitted that Thompson had reason, but did not think the rebels had yet found us out; at any rate, they would be afraid to come so near our strong skirmish-line; so for his part, he wasn't thinkin' of the left; the right was the place of danger--what was down this gully nobody knew; the rebels might sand a force up it, but not yet, for they didn't know we were here.

Again a rebel shell howled above, and again a volley from the front was heard as bullets sang over us, and our men behind us became silent.

We sprang to place, every eye on watch, every musket in its port-hole.

"Don't waste a shot, men," says Willis; "we're not goin' to have another chance like that. Take it in order from right to left. Berwick first. Wait till a man's body shows; don't shoot at a head--"

I had fired--Thompson fired immediately after. He had seen that my shot missed. Again the musketry opened behind us, and both sides pegged away for a while. Thompson claimed that he had hit his man.

Suddenly a loud rap was heard on one of the sand-bags,--one of the bags between Willis and Holt,--a bullet had gone through and into the wall of the ravine behind us. Willis fired.

"Damnation!" says he, "I believe they see us."

Yet it was possible that this was an accident; Holt fired, and then Freeman, and it became my turn again.

That bullet which had become entirely through the sand-bag and buried itself deeply in the ground, gave me trouble. I did not believe that an ordinary musket had such force, and I doubted whether an Enfield had it. The rebels were getting good arms from England. It might be that some man over there had a Whitworth telescope rifle; if so he had detected us perhaps--a telescope would enable him to do it. I said nothing of this speculation, but watched. Rebel bullets continued to fly over. I saw a man as low as his waist and fired; almost at the same moment my sand-bag was struck--the second one on my right, which protected that flank, and which the bullet, coming from the left oblique, struck endwise; the bullet passed through, the length, of the bag and went on into the wall of the gully. I sprang back and caught up the spade.

"What's up, Jones?" asked Willis.

"I'll report directly, Sergeant."

I dug at least two feet before I found the bullet; it was a long, leaden cylinder, with, a rounded point--not bigger than calibre 45 I guessed. This was no Enfield bullet. I handed it to Willis; he understood.

"Can't be helped," says he; "they know we're here, boys."

The danger had become great; perhaps there was but one Whitworth over there, but the marksman would at once tell the skirmishers where we were posted; then we should be a target for their whole line, and at three hundred yards their Enfields could riddle our sand-bags and make us lie low.

Rap, rap, rap! Three sand-bags were hit, and Holt was scratched on the cheek. The bullets struck the wall behind; one penetrated, the others fell into the ravine--they were Enfield bullets.

Holt's face was bleeding. The men looked gloomy; we had had our fun.

Willis called another council. His speech was to the effect that we had done more damage than we had received, and should receive; that all we had to do was to stay in the ravine until the storm should pass; the rebels would think that we were gone and would cease wasting their ammunition; then we could have more fun.

Holt said bravely that he was not willing to give it up yet; so said Thompson, and so said Freeman.

My vote was given to remain and wait for developments. At this moment retreat could not be considered; we could not reach the edge of the woods under sixty yards; somebody would be struck if not killed; it was doubtful that any could escape sound and whole, for the rebels, if they had any sense, were prepared to see us run out, and would throw a hundred shots at us. If our line could ever again get the upper hand of the rebels, then we could get out easily; if not, we must stay here till night. We had done all that could be done--had done well, and we must not risk loss without a purpose; we must protect ourselves; let the rebels waste their powder--the more they wasted, the better. The only real danger was that the rebels might advance; but even if they did, they could not get at us without coming to blows with our line--the ravine protected our line from their charge. It was our business to stay where we were and to keep a sharp lookout.

So it was ordered by Willis that while the storm was raging we should keep one man on watch, and that the others should stay at the bottom of the ravine. Holt boldly claimed first watch.

The four of us were sitting in the sand; Holt's head was below the level of the field; every now and then he raised his eyes to the porthole. Freeman began, taking off his coat.

"Gittin' warm?" asked Willis.

"I'm the man to show you a trick," said Freeman.

He hung the coat on the iron end of the spade, and tied his hat above on a stick; then he went down the ravine about ten yards, faced us, raised his dummy, and marched quickly toward us. This was the first dummy that the rebels had ever seen march, no doubt; at any rate their whole force was at once busy; the fire rolled from left to right far down the line, yet when Freeman examined his garments he found that neither hat nor coat had been struck.

"You see," said Freeman, "we can all run out when we want to."

Noon had come; after eating, I became exceedingly sleepy; I must make some effort to keep awake.

"Sergeant," I said, "if you say so, I'll go down the gully a little, and see what's there."

"All right, Jones; but don't go far."

I soon reached a turn in the ravine--a turn to the right, toward our line. I went on; this stretch was short; the ravine turned toward the left, getting deeper as it went; again it turned to the left, running for the Warwick, I supposed--certainly running straight toward the rebels. I came back and reported.

"Well," says Willis, "if they come on us, we'll have to run. We must keep two sentinels on post now."

Thompson was posted at the bend.

It was difficult to believe that the rebels would venture up the gully; they could not know how small was our force; if they should march a company up the ravine, the company would be exposed to capture by a sudden rush of our skirmishers. It was probable, however, that a few men would try to sneak up in order to see how many we were; yet even this supposition was not necessary, for the rebels were having everything their own way, and need risk nothing. So I decided in my own mind to be as patient as possible until dark.

The firing on both sides had ceased, except that an occasional Whitworth bullet would come at us, fired at such long range that we could not hear the report; the heads of the rebels were no longer seen. What were they planning? I was uneasy; I wished that we could find a means for communicating with our friends in the rear; if they would open fire again, we might rush out. Yet after all it was best to be quiet until dark.

I relieved Freeman at the porthole; Holt relieved Thompson at the bend. Since eleven o'clock Fort Willis had not fired a shot; our game had been blocked. The notion now came to me that if the rebels wanted us, the way to get us would be to send men up the ravine just before dark, and at the same time for a squad of them to steal through the woods to our left, where they would be ready for us when we should steal out.

"Sergeant!"

"What?"

"Think we'd better get back."

"What's the matter now?"

"Just at dark is the time for the rebels to catch us."

"Fact, by--!" says Willis.

"If you want to get out," said Freeman, the inventor, "I'm here to tell you how to do it."

"Le's have it," says Willis.

"Make a big smoke!"

Why had I not thought of that expedient? Between, us and Holt, down at the bend, there was brush growing on the sides of the ravine. Our knives and the spade were put to use; soon we had a big heap of green boughs and sprigs. It would take work to touch her off, for there was no dry wood; but we managed by finding the remains of cartridge papers and using a free supply of gunpowder. When all was ready, Holt was recalled, and the match was struck.

"Now, men, to your portholes!" says Willis. "We must give 'em a partin' salute."

The flame was long in catching. Every eye was alternately peeping to the front and looking anxiously at the brush heap. At last she caught, and a thin column of black smoke began to ascend.

"Be sharp, now! Them rebs will want to know what we're up to."

A few curious heads could be seen, but no shot was fired at us, or by us at them.

The smoke increased, but, alas! the wind was wrong and blew it away from the woods.

"Hell and Tom Walker!" says Willis.

But heaven--which he had not appealed to--had decreed that Fort Willis should be evacuated under her own auspices. Our attention had been so fixed upon two important specks that the rest of the universe had become a trivial matter. A sudden clap of thunder almost overhead startled the defenders of the redoubt. Without our knowledge a storm had rolled up from the Atlantic; the rain was beginning to fall in big icy-cold drops, already obscuring our vision.

"_Fire!_" shouted Willis.

The tempest burst in fury, and the gang marched bravely back to the skirmish-line, amidst a hail, not of bullets, but of nature's making.

XII

MORE ACTIVE SERVICE

"Do but start
An echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready braced
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine."
--SHAKESPEARE.

Early on the morning of the 4th of May loud explosions were heard in the direction of Yorktown, and the heavens glowed with the light of great fires. At sunrise our division got orders to be ready to march, but the morning wore away, and it was almost two o'clock before the long roll beat. At length we moved with the column, already unnerved by long-continued expectation, westward upon the Williamsburg road.

Willis was triumphant. "We got 'em now, boys," says he. "I told you so."

Lawler responded that any weather prophet would get rain if he kept on predicting till the rain came.

The mud was deep and heavy. The roads had been horribly cut up by the retreating rebels and by our cavalry advancing ahead of us.

Late in the afternoon we came to a long halt; a division had come into our road from the left and was now advancing, blocking our way. We rested. About dark our head of column was turned back and we countermarched, and halted, and marched again, and halted again, where, I do not know; but I know that I was thoroughly worn out when orders were given that the men should lie on their arms, but that they should otherwise make themselves as comfortable as they could. Rain was falling, the night was black, comfort was impossible. I suppose I got two or three hours' sleep. At daylight the march was again taken up; in an hour or two we halted and formed line with skirmishers in front; it was still raining.

We marched the length of the regiment by the right flank, through the woods, then fronted and moved forward, with skirmishers deployed in advance. The skirmishers soon became engaged. Bullets flew amongst us. We continued to advance until we reached the edge of the woods; the line had not yet fired a shot.

The rebels had cut down the timber in their front; as soon as we became visible they began throwing shells and grape-shot over the timber at our ranks. We lay down and took the fire and the rain. We lay there for something like two hours; then we moved to the rear,--only our regiment, I think,--fronted again, and marched to the right for perhaps a mile through the woods. Willis said that we were seeking any enemy that might be in the woods; but he aroused no interest; nobody either approved or seemed to doubt Willis's interpretation of the movement; we did not know what the generals were doing with us, and we were tired and sleepy and hungry and wet.

By twelve o'clock we had marched back to our former position near the felled timber. Rain continued to fall, and the hostile batteries to fire upon each other. Wounded men were carried to the rear. I noticed that our company seemed small; perhaps a few had been wounded; certainly many had fallen out of ranks, unable longer to endure.

About the middle of the afternoon we were moved again, this time through the woods to the left. As we marched, we could hear the roar of musketry ahead of us, and straggling men could be seen running in every direction except one. We moved on in line, without skirmishers. The straggling men increased in numbers, and many wounded went past us, the ambulance corps working busily here in the dense wet forest. The yells of the rebels were plainly heard, and all eyes were strained to catch sight of what was already but too well known. Every moment was an hour.

Suddenly from our front came a roar and a crash, and our line staggered to a dead halt, every man firing and loading as fast as he could--firing at a line of smoke ahead of us. Great shouts could be heard in the smoke; occasionally, in some momentary diminution in our own strife, there could be faintly heard the noise of battle to our right, far and near to our right.

Men were falling fast. All at once I heard Willis roar, "Fire to the left, men! fire to the left!" A great turmoil ensued; officers cried, "They are our men!" Willis again, shouted: "Fire on that line, men! They are rebels! They are rebels!" and he succeeded in convincing most of us that he was right. Then the cry rose: "We are flanked!" "Look out!" "Flanked!" "Here they come!" and then the whole crowd of us were running with all our legs. I reached a road that ran across the line of my flight; it was full of everything: troops in good order, stragglers breaking through them, wounded lying down, dead flat on their backs, artillery horses in their traces, ambulances.

So far as we were concerned, the fight was over; fresh troops had relieved us, and the rebels came no farther. It was night, and the battle soon ended on the whole line.

With difficulty I found my regiment and company. We lay in the woods; the rain kept on.

I have understood that the battle of Williamsburg is considered a victory for our side. I must confess that I did not know that we had won it until I was so informed, although I was certainly in the battle. The rebels fought this partial engagement only for the purpose, I think, of securing the retreat of their army and trains; we fought for the purpose of preventing the retreat. I have learned that our right wing had better success than we had on the left; but for all that, the enemy got away unbroken, and his purpose was accomplished. In the days of those early battles, even the falling back of the rebel pickets before a line of our skirmishers was telegraphed to Washington as a victory.

We lay on the wet ground; our sufferings were not small. Willis's remark, that the rebels too were wet, didn't seem to bring much comfort; even his assertion, that they would again retreat and that the morning would find them gone, called forth no enthusiasm. The men were dispirited; they knew very well that they had fought hard and had endured with the stoutness of good soldiers, but they were physically exhausted, and, above all, they felt that somebody had blundered in putting them unnecessarily into an awkward place. I have always been proud that none of our men deserted on the night of the Williamsburg battle.

No fires could be made, Willis and I ate a little and lay down. My gum-blanket was laid on the wet ground, with my blanket on top; this was our bed. Our covering was Willis's blanket and gum-blanket. The night was warm enough, and our covering was needed only as some protection against the rain. I was soon asleep, but awake again as soon. About ten o'clock I felt a hand on my shoulder. Rising, I saw our orderly-sergeant; a man was standing by him. I was ordered to report at General Grover's headquarters. The general had sent an orderly, who could not or would not tell why I was wanted.

General Grover was in the centre of a group of officers, surrounding a dim lantern which, was on the ground at the root of a large tree; horses were tied near by to the branches of trees.

The orderly saluted, pointed to me, and retired a few yards.

The general came toward me; I saluted.

"Your name," said he.

"Private Jones Berwick."

"Your regiment."

"Eleventh."

"Dr. Khayme has spoken of you."

I bowed.

"Are you willing to undertake a hazardous duty?"

"I want to do my duty, General; but I don't hanker after danger," said I.

"A prudent answer," said he; "come here."

He led the way toward the lantern, the group of officers scattering.

"The whole matter is this," said the general, "each brigade must send a man to the front to observe the enemy. Will you go for this brigade?"

"Yes, sir," I said; "I ought to, if you so command."

"There is no compulsion," said he; "a man who objects to going should not be allowed to go."

"My objections, General, are not strong enough, to make me decline."

"Then let us understand each other. Do this for me and you shall lose nothing by it. All proper favours shall be shown you if you do your duty well. Extra duty demands extra privilege."

"Can I see Dr. Khayme?" I asked.

"No, not to-night; he attends the right wing. Now, Berwick, let me show you."

He bent down by the lantern and was about to sit, when an officer stepped before and spread a gum-blanket on the ground, and placed the lantern near the blanket.

"Thanks, Hibbert," said General Grover.

The general took a map from one of his aides, and spread it on the blanket. It was a mere sketch--a very few lines.

"Here is our position," said he, making a mark with a pencil; "you see our line here, running north and south."

"Which is north?" I asked.

"Here, this way. We are in these woods; the rebels are over here, or were there at last accounts. Our picket-line is along this branch, in part. I want you to go through our pickets, and get across the branch, and go on through the woods until you come to this road, which you see running north and south. You need not go across this road. All I want you to do is to observe this road until day."

"Is the road in the woods, General?"

"Well, I don't know, but I think it is. You will have no trouble whatever, unless the rebels have their pickets on this side of the road," said he.

"But in case the rebels are on this side of the road, what shall I do?"

"It may be that their skirmishers are in the road, and their vedettes near the branch; in that case get as near as possible to the road. If they are on this side of the road, but so near the road that you can observe it with eye or ear, why, observe it with as little risk to yourself as possible. If bodies of troops move on the road, you must come back to the picket-line and report, and then return to your post of observation."

"Would it not be well to have an intermediate man between me and our picket-line?"

"A good idea, sir. We'll get the captain of the pickets to supply one."

"And now, General, suppose that the rebel pickets are much this side of the road."

"Then use your discretion, but observe that road this night. Take your own way to do it, but the road must be observed."

"How far do the woods stretch beyond the road, General?"

"If this sketch can be relied on, not more than three hundred yards," said he; "but it will not do to rely on this piece of paper."

"May I not run foul of some man of ours sent out by one of the other brigades, General?"

"Not likely; each, brigade sends in its own front, and you will hardly find that any man will be so enterprising as to try to do our duty for us; still, you must avoid any chance of a collision such as you speak of."

"How shall I get through our own pickets, General?"

"My courier will see you through," said he. "No; I will see you through. I want to see our line again, and I will go with you."

"Suppose the brigade moves while I am at the front, and I can't find you when I get back."

"Then make your report to the picket that relieves ours, and get back to us as soon as you can. Our pickets will tell those that relieve them about you."

"Suppose I find a movement in progress and can follow it," said I.

"Follow it as long as you wish, only be sure to report through the other man. Is everything clear to you now?"

"Yes, General; I think so."

"Then return to your company and get ready; be back in ten minutes."

I was back in ten minutes. I had decided to go entirely unarmed, and I was hoping that the men of the other brigades would have as much consideration for me, as I did not think it very unlikely that I should run against one of them in the darkness. I put my gum-blanket over me, committed my knapsack and other things to Willis's keeping; and was back with the general.

We found that our pickets were not on the branch which the general had shown me on the map, or on any branch. A brief conversation took place between the general and Captain Brown of the picket-line. The captain chose a man, and told him to follow me and to obey my orders.

Then the general put his hand on my shoulder. "Take care of yourself, my man," said he; "but get to that road; be sure that you report any movement on that road." I began to assure him that I would do all that I could, but I found that he had already started back to the brigade.

I asked Captain Brown to warn all his men not to fire on me when I should return. The low call went right and left along the line,--"Two of our men going to the front!"

"Where are your vedettes?" I asked of Captain Brown.

"The line itself is on extreme duty," said he; "the vedettes are only thirty yards in front; we posted the relief not half an hour ago."

I had already observed by the light of General Grover's lantern, which his orderly had discreetly held in reserve some ten paces or more, that the picket-line was a double one, that is to say, two men to every five paces, and that every man was standing in his place, gun in hand,--behind trees the most of them,--and with their faces to the front. There were no picket fires.

"How many vedettes are there? How thick are they?"

"One every twenty yards," said he; "I will relieve them with new men in half an hour, or a little more; an hour is long enough for such duty. The new men will be advised that you are still in front. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Come."

The three of us--Captain Brown leading, I following him, and the detailed man, Allen, coming after--went forward to a vedette. The captain spoke some words to him in a whisper, and then went back to the picket-line. I now observed that Allen had brought his gun. I say observed, for I did not see the gun; my hand happened to touch it. I asked Allen to go back and leave his piece at the picket-line; while he was gone I spoke in whispers to the vedette. He had heard nothing in his front, except that now and then there seemed to come to him, from far away, an indistinct rumble; he had seen nothing in the black night except trees but little blacker. The rain was a thick drizzle.

I warned the vedette to be very careful in case he heard anything in his front, lest he fire on a friend. He said that the vedettes had orders not to fire, but to retire at once on the picket-line in case of a silent advance of the enemy. This peculiar order, which at a later time I heard given again under somewhat similar circumstances, was no doubt a wise one. A secret advance of the enemy's skirmishers would have been precipitated into a charge by the fire of the vedette, whereas his secret retreat to his line would prepare the pickets to surprise the surprisers.