It was not all danger and dread with the boys in the army. Weeks passedswiftly, and fun reigned in camp. The gypsy life held charms for themsuch as no indoor employment could offer. The men were hardy and strong,and with light hearts talked of the battles yet in store for them.And when jests were exchanged, often after having come from a scene ofcarnage, it would be hard to believe that these same men were readyto respond at any moment if summoned by the long roll of the drum intoaction.
In {071}the early part of the war many little conveniences were providedfor the rank and file, among them being tents for shelter, which did notkeep out the cold, however, and many a man died from disease who wouldhave lived to fight, had he been properly housed. The second winter,however, many huts were put up, rough enough, but better calculated towithstand the cold than canvas.
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Each company had a "cook tent" and a cook, generally selected fromthe men, the officers boasting a "cullered individual" who was always,according to his own account, a "perfeshunal." The culinary departmentwas ever a point of interest to the men, whose appetites were never sodainty that they failed to enjoy their daily rations. No soldier, nomatter from what part of the North he came, {072}ever turned up his noseat the beans, which were cooked in holes dug in the earth, and filledwith hot embers, in which the iron pot containing them was buried andkept there all night.
To Bill Elliott fell the task of ministering to the hungry ones of hiscompany, and many were the compliments he received.
"You can broil a chicken as good as any French cook," a man wouldcoaxingly declare.
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"Not a boughten one," Bill replied; "somehow those kind of chickens thesutler has on hand don't have the genooine flavor."
The hint was always taken, and alas, for the poor farmer who had a nicehen-roost, or a young porker in the sty. They had no regard for propertyrights, and though they were not supposed to forage, except underorders, yet the temptation was too strong to be resisted.
At {073}such times the cackling of the fowls, whose quiet was disturbed,the melodious grunting of the pigs, who often led them a hard chase, andthe laughter and shouting of the pursuing soldiers, made a scene of wildmerriment never forgotten.
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But Ralph could not see the funny side of these depredations. To him itwas a clear wrong to take what did not belong to them. He never wouldjoin them in these expeditions, a course which exposed him to muchridicule for his "pious notions," but which had no effect upon him.
Often their zeal in this direction brought its own punishment. On one ofthese forays a long-legged, awkward fellow, who could outrun the fastestchicken, chased an anxious hen into a thicket, where the grass was longand rank. As he peered round for his game he spied a dozen or so eggsshining in the sun. "Ah," he said, "my lady hen is stealing a nest.Well, they look white and fresh, and I'll just confiscate them." Hispockets were full of sweet potatoes, he had a brace ot chickens slungover his shoulders, he had lost his handkerchief, if he ever owned one,and the problem was how to hold possession of the coveted prize.
"I know how I'll fix it. I'll put them in my cap. I can carry them allright."
The eggs were tenderly deposited therein, and he started for camp.He heard the boys who were still engaged in the chase {074}laughingboisterously, and saw Rob Douglass, one of the new recruits, with a ropetied to one of the hind legs of a monstrous pig, who was jerking himright and left, in quite an unmilitary fashion. Now he was nearly on theanimal's back, and next he was measuring his length on the ground, buthe never once released the rope, while the shouts and cheers of the boyswho were watching the contest made Rob more determined than ever to landhis prize at the cook's tent.
Zach Smith joined in the merriment and began to chaff Rob, whose facewas grimy with perspiration, while his dust-covered clothes looked asthough a good brushing and a few stitches would improve them materially.
Seeing Zach he called to him to help haul in the "critter." The latterstarted toward him, but Mrs. Piggie was of the same mind, for she turnedquickly and ran between his legs. Zach lost his balance and fell, andas he instinctively shot out his hands to save his eggs his head struckthem squarely, while the liquid streaming down his face and neck sentforth such an odor that the men, who had inhaled many strange ones sinceleaving home, voted unanimously that that particular one "beat anythingon record."
Zach made his way back to his tent, followed by the jibes of hiscomrades, as he bade Rob, in very strong language, to settle the pig asbest he could while he attended to disinfecting himself.
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CHAPTER VI. ANOTHER BATTLE.
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OYS," said {075}Lieutenant Graves, "we have our orders to turn out andshow what we are made of. You know General McClellan has command of theArmy of Virginia, and he thinks we've been rusting here long enough;so we're to help General Stone in drawing out the enemy. They've so farkept in hiding, and we've got to force them out into a square and openfight."
"The General thinks we're spoiling for a battle, doesn't he?"
"I suppose so. Anyway, we are to cross the Potomac at Conrad's Ferryand wake 'em up. General McCall has his hands full watching the rivercrossings, and we must help him do it." This was good news to most ofthe men, who had grown tired of inaction. The long summer had worn away,and Ralph had often slipped away from camp and run into the negro cabinsnear by, where he was sure of a nice piece of hoe cake, baked on thehearth. The garrulous darkeys liked to see Ralph coming, and many aquestion they put to him which he could scarcely answer, so little didhe know of the true state of affairs.
There are few idle moments in camp, for the duties of the soldier aretoo numerous to afford him that leisure which permits of homesickness.He has letters to write home, old ones to read; then, too, his sparetime is occupied in looking for something to eat which his knapsackdoesn't hold--not because his rations are scanty, or he is hungry, buthe grows tired of the regular diet. He is always doing duty, police orfatigue, and the perpetual drilling, all keep him busy.
{076}
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Mending clothes became quite an art among the soldiers, and the mannerin which some of them darned their stockings would reflect creditupon {077}many a housewife who has the reputation of being an ex pertseamstress.
Wash day in camp was as important an occasion as it is at home, andpreparations were made with as much regard to convenience as thesurroundings would permit.
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Ralph was very fond of running into old "Aunt Judah's" cabin, for her"pones" were especially toothsome. The old negress was not handsome--herblack skin was shriveled and seamed with age; she was nearly blind, butshe was an admirable cook.
"Massa," she said to Ralph one day, when she had filled his knapsackwith smoking hot pone and luscious sweet potatoes, whose pulp was asgolden as the sunflower's petals,--"I'se been pondering in my own min'and I kaint see what you all is fighting 'bout. Clar to goodness Ikaint."
{078}
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"We {079}are fighting to make the Southerners come back into the Union."
"De Union? What you mean by dat?"
"The Union--the States. There are thirty-five States, and how manyslabes does he own?"
"None at all. We don't have slaves up North."
"Don't hab slabes? Who totes your water and picks de cotton and hoes defields?"
"We don't grow any cotton, and all our work is done by people whom wehire and pay money to."
The old slave's eyes opened wide with curiosity.
"And when dey gets sassy, does de oberseer whip 'em?" Ralph laughedheartily as he thought of the suit for assault and battery whipping aservant up North would bring about. Here was an old colored woman asignorant of her relationship to the great tide of humanity as a child.Born in the West in a little village where no negroes were to be found,he had seldom met one.
The old woman seemed to be talking to herself.
"It pears to me dey must be dissbedient and sass
y sumtimes. All niggersare. Wonder how dey makes dem mind. When dey runs across a right smartuppish cullered pusson how do dey settle wid him? Did you say, massa,dey neber whip dem?"
"No, auntie, they never do."
Aunt Judah shook her head doubtingly. "Massa."
"The one man governs the whole of them. Your old masters didn't like theman who was chosen, and so they said they wouldn't stay in the Union tobe governed by him."
"Is dat man a big man? Does he b'long to a good family?"
I was plain to her the difference between servants North and South? Tohim slavery was a mere name. He knew nothing of its blighting understandhow dreary and hopeless the life of a "chattel" broke {080}out suddenly,"dey flogs dem down here; dey has to, sumtimes. I neber was struck ablow. I was a house servant, but my man worked on de plantation.'Diamond Joe,' dey called him; he was lashed ebery now and den, and Itink it made him ugly. He was a likely boy. Wy, massa used to 'clar ifhe wan't so stubbon, jess like one of our plantation mules, he wouldn'ttake de price of two boys for him, for he could hoe and pick mo' cottondan any 'mount of boys. His skin was as shiny as de satin in Missus'dress, and dark, and he was tall like de poplar trees, and strong andbig. Joe lubbed me in dose days."
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Ralph looked at her wonderingly. Here was a new thought. Did thoseuncouth black folks care for each other as white people did? Were theycapable of attachments? She was almost hideous--had she ever been young?
A tear rolled down Aunt Judah's withered cheek, and she seemed tobe looking far away. She was silent so long that Ralph began to beimpatient to get back to camp with his knapsack full of good things.
"Well, auntie, where is Joe now? He must be pretty old by this time."
A solemn look stole over her features, and looking up to where the bluesky showed through the chinks in the little cabin roof, she said--
"In {081}Heben, I b'leeve. Oh, honey, it makes my heart heaby eben now,and offen and offen de tears dey makes my old eyes burn. Many a day I'seasked my hebenly Fader whar on dis big yarth my Joe was, but it musthab been wicked fur me to ask de Great King anyting 'bout a po' culleredboy, fur I neber had any answer. But Joe was a powerful hansum boy, debest one on de plantation."
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"How did he die?"
"Die? I didn't 'spress my 'pinion dat he _was_ dead. I has looked longfor Joe, and I 'mos knows he must be gone up above, for he lubbed me andhe lubbed de little missie--de little daisy, Missie Flossie. She was deonly one who could bring him out of his tantarums, fer po' Joe did habspells, when he was ugly. Massa Steve--he owned us bof--I 'members datday well; it was a sunshiny day, de yarth was all carpeted wid de short,green grass, and de flowers filled de whole land wid deir sweetness. Itwas so bright my heart was singing a song, and Missus Flora wanted tobe druv to town to buy some nice tings for de little missie's birfdayparty. Massa {082}say 'Joe, Dicks got a sick hoss to 'tend you hitch upde big black team, and take your mistress to town.' Joe, he whisperedto me--I had tuk de little lady out on de lawn--dat he cudn't dribe demspeerited critters, fur he had burnt his hands roasting corn in de ashesde night afore. 'Don't stan dar, you brack rascal,' massa said, fur heseed him talking to me. 'Massa, I'se dead anxious to go, but I hab abery bad hand--caint Dick go dis time wid de missus?'
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"Then massa, he got as white as a sheet wif temper, and his voice waslike thunder--'No! go as I told you. Do you want anoder flogging?'
"I felt way down all fru me, sumfing was gwine to happen, for Joe helooked so wicked, and he kep' muttering and muttering, and I was scared,fur I knowed sumfing was about to break, when Joe 'muned wid his-self.But oh, massa, I shall neber forget de awful night dat fell, and no Joe,nor no missus, nor no carridge and hosses cumd home. Massa was wild.He tore up and down de lawn, running here and shouting dar, and sendingfust one nigger, den anudder, to the neighbors' plantations to see ifmissie had dun gone visiting at any ob dem. Den he called fur Dick andhis white hoss, and was jess jumping on his back when de hans' set upa holler ing and {083}de carridge cum taring onto de lawn, and fust dey'lowed Missus Flora was dead, fur she was cuddled up in a heap, as whiteas snow. Wen dey got her to cum to she tole Massa Steve how Joe had dungone to town wid her and den wen she wanted to cum home he had rode 'emoff, way off inter de woods, and way inter de midst of de fick trees,and gibing de hosses a terrible lashing he started dem, heads towardhome; den dey runned all de way ober sticks and limbs of trees tilldey foun' de open road, wen dey went so fas' Missus lost her breff andcudn't see any mo'.
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"You should have seen massa den! He swore so loud it made my ears ache,and all de time he was looking right at me. He said Joe had run away andhe'd hab de young black debil's hide off when he kotched him, and if hewas shore any ob de slabes knew he was going it ud be wuss for dem; he'dsell 'em to de very next trader dat cumd along, and dey'd be toted downSouf, whar dey'd be showed how to work. He swore he had nuffing but apack of lazy niggers roun' him, who didn't desarve to hab a good master.And, honey, fore de Lawd, Massa Steve was a kind master, only he wudswar and cuss at us once in awhile."
"What became of Joe? Did they catch him?" asked Ralph, who was so deeplyinterested in her story that he had forgotten all {084}about the boys incamp who were waiting for that hot corn bread.
"Yes, massa, I seen him dragged in de next day, after dey had hunted allnight wid de dogs. Dey had torn his clothes in tatters, and his han'sand face was all red wid de blood whar he fought wid dem. De master hewas so mad he made de slaves all come outen deir cabins, to see how deysarbed a runaway. I can see it now"--and she covered her eyes with herwrinkled black hands--"I can see it all. Oh, Joe, I neber forgits datday. And when de cruel 'black snake' cut his back ebery time it hit himhe neber said a word, but he kind o' shibered all over and set his teethhard, but I screamed out 'Po' Joe! Will nobody pity po' Joe?' and felldown on de grass all cold as a stone. My breff was gone, and I foughtde angel ob de Lord had done called me home and jess den Massa Stevesay--'Go to your quarters, Joe.' My Joe, he walk off as proud as a king.Missus she was bery sorry for me, and was allus bery kind to me, but Joeneber sing in de field any mo'. He would fix his eyes on me so terribleI was almos' afraid of him, and he would mutter dat de avenger was onde white man's track. 'I'm gwine to be free. Neber no more will dey lashJoe.' I used to tink de walls would hear him and tell de massa. But deydidn't, and one night wen ebery libing soul 'cept de watch dogs were indeir beds, de hosses 'gan to stamp and kick in deir boxes, and de dogswere howling, and den we heard de white folks screaming, louder andlouder, and fas' as we could, we ran outen our cabins, and dar up on delittle knoll-whar de house stood, we saw de black smoke pouring out obde windows and rolling up to de sky, and den turning redder and redder,and we could 'stinguish Massa Steve and Missus Flora out on de lawn jessas dey jumped from deir beds.
"De oberseer was fighting de flames and he tole us to get all de bucketswe could, and fotch de water from de well in dem, and he jumped on ahoss and galloped to de nearest plantation for help, and dey all turnedout, white people and slabes, and brought water, and soon de fire{085}wasn't red no mo', but de house--you can see de walls now ober dar,whar dey stand to 'min' me ebery day ob de dear massa and missie and delittle lamb, Flossie--was no house any more, all de insides gone, and deblack outside standing up in de summer air."
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She paused to wipe away the hot tears that blinded her.
"What became of your master and his family?"
"Massa and missus were presarbed, but de little white blos-whose birfdayhad been so bright, dey didn't know whar to look for her, and her mudderwas screeching 'My baby--my baby!' and going out o' one faint intoanoder, and her pa trying to rush inter de smoking house and calling forhis Flossie--oh, it was enuff to make de har turn gray!
"She muss hab been frightened so when de smoke got in her pretty blueeyes dat she didn't know how to fin' de way out, fer she was croucheddown behind de front stairs, and dat's de spot whar Dick found her, widher nig
ht-dress all on fire, but de light tole him whar to look.
"When he put de little precious chile in my-arms she put her {086}babyfingers on my black face and she said, 'Judah, tell mamma--I am nothurt--but I caint see!' Honey, de nex' day she shut dem po' little eyeson dis world, and missie, whose heart broke den, followed her lamb to dehebenly pastures whar de good Lawd 'tends to all deir wants."
"What became of your master?"
"Massa Steve? He went ober de sea, and he died in anoder country. Deplantation and all de slabes went to his brudder, who had de big houseyo' sees ober dar on de road put up. No one eber goes near de old place,fer dey say its hanted."
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"But the old home and Joe? You don't think he had anything to do withsetting it on fire?"
"Massa, de good Book tells de po' creatures dat dey musn't form no'pinion to hurt deir neighbors. It goes agin me to say dat he did, butyo' didn't know Joe, and I did."
"Did they suspect him?"
"I neber could look dem in de face to know, but Joe neber was seen afterde house was burned, and dat's many years in de past."
Ralph drew a long breath, and bidding the old negress goodbye, he{087}went back to camp with a sad heart. When he entered the camp hefound the men gathered in knots, discussing the news they had justreceived of a coming engagement.
"What are we going out for?" asked a new man.
"So as to give the rebs a chance to lay us out, or be laid outthemselves. What do you suppose we go to war for?"
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Old Bill's gruff tones nettled the man.
The Blue and the Gray; Or, The Civil War as Seen by a Boy Page 5