Before the Dawn: A Story of the Fall of Richmond

by Joseph A. Altsheler

  CHAPTER XXX

  THE TELEGRAPH STATION

  It had been a night of labour and anxiety for Prescott. In the turmoilof the flight he had been forgotten by the President and all others whohad the power to give him orders, and he scarcely knew what to do. Itwas always his intention, an intention shared by his comrades, to resistto the last, and at times he felt like joining the soldiers in theirretreat up the river, whence by a circuitous journey he would rejoinGeneral Lee; but Richmond held him. He was not willing to go while hismother and Lucia, who might need him at any moment, were there, and thepathos of the scenes around him troubled his heart. Many a woman andchild did he assist in flight, and he resolved that he would stay untilhe saw the Northern troops coming. Then he would slip quietly away andfind Lee.

  He paid occasional visits to his home and always the three women were atthe windows wide awake--it was not a night when one could sleep. Thesame awe was on their faces as they gazed at the burning buildings, thetowers of fire twisted and coiled by the wind. Overhead was a sullensky, a roof of smoke shutting out the stars, and clouds of fine ashesshifting with the wind.

  "Will all the city burn, Robert?" asked his mother far toward morning.

  "I do not know, mother," he replied, "but there is danger of it. I am aloyal Southerner, but I pray that the Yankees will come quickly. Itseems a singular thing to say, but Richmond now needs their aid."

  Lucia said little. Once, as Prescott stood outside, he saw her faceframed in the window like a face in a picture, a face as pure and asearnest as that of Ruth amid the corn. He wondered why he had everthought it possible that she could love or marry James Sefton. Alike inwill and strength of mind, they were so unlike in everything else. Hecame nearer. The other two were at another window, intent on the fire.

  "Lucia," he whispered, "if I stay here it is partly for love of you.Tell me, if you still hold anything against me, that you forgive me. Ihave been weak and foolish, but if so it was because I had lostsomething that I valued most in all the world. Again I say I was weakand foolish, but that was all; I have done nothing wrong. Oh, I was mad,but it was a momentary madness, and I love you and you alone."

  She put down her hand from the window and shyly touched his hair. Heseized the hand and kissed it. She hastily withdrew it, and the redarose in her cheeks, but her eyes were not unkind.

  His world, the world of the old South, was still falling about him.Piece by piece it fell. The hour was far toward morning. The rumble ofwagons in the streets died. All the refugees who could go were gone, butthe thieves and the drunkards were still abroad. In some places men hadbegun to make efforts to check the fire and to save the city from totalruin, and Prescott helped them, working amid the smoke and the ashes.

  The long night of terror come to an end and the broad sun flushed theheavens. Then rose again the cry: "The Yankees!" and now report andrumour were true. Northern troops were approaching, gazing curiously atthis burning city which for four years had defied efforts, costingnearly a million lives, and the Mayor went forth ready to receive themand make the surrender.

  Prescott and the three women followed to see. He was stained andblackened now, and he could watch in safety, slipping out afterward tojoin his own army. The fires still roared, and overhead the clouds ofsmoke still drifted. Afar sounded the low, steady beat of a drum. Thevanguard of the North was entering the Southern capital, and even thosefighting the fires deserted their work for awhile to look on.

  Slowly the conquerors came down the street, gazing at the burning cityand those of its people who remained. They themselves bore all the marksof war, their uniforms torn and muddy, their faces thin and brown, theirranks uneven. They marched mostly in silence, the people looking on andsaying little. Presently they entered the Capitol grounds. A boy amongthe cavalry sprang from his horse and ran into the building, holding asmall tightly wrapped package in his hand.

  Prescott, looking up, saw the Stars and Bars come down from the dome ofthe Capitol; then a moment later something shot up in its place, andunfolding, spread its full length in the wind until all the stripes andstars were shining. The flag of the Union once more waved over Richmond.A cheer, not loud, broke from the Northern troops and its echo againcame from the crowd.

  Prescott felt something stir within him and a single tear ran down hischeek. He was not a sentimental man, but he had fought four years forthe flag that was now gone forever. And yet the sight of the new flagthat was the old one, too, was not wholly painful. He was aware of thefeeling that it was like an old and loved friend come back again.

  Then the march went on, solemn and somber. The victors showed noelation; there were no shouts, no cheers. The lean, brown men in thefaded blue uniforms rarely spoke, and the watchful, anxious eyes of theofficers searched everywhere. The crowd around them sank into silence,but above them and around them the flames of the burning city roared andcrackled as they bit deep into the wood. Now and then there was a rumbleand then a crash as a house, its supports eaten away, fell in; and atrare intervals a tremendous explosion as some magazine blew up, to befollowed by a minute of intense, vivid silence, for which the roaringflames seemed only a background.

  The drunken mob of the under-world shrank away at the sight of thetroops, and presently relapsed, too, into a sullen silence of fear orawe. The immense cloud of smoke which had been gathering for so manyhours over Richmond thickened and darkened and was cut through here andthere by the towers of flame which were leaping higher and higher. Thena strong breeze sprang up, blowing off the river, and the fire reachedthe warehouses filled with cotton, which burned almost like gunpowder,and the conflagration gathered more volume and vigour. The wind whirledit about in vast surges and eddies. Ashes and sparks flew in showers.The light of the sun was obscured by the wide roof of smoke, but beneaththere was the lurid light of the fire. The men saw the faces of eachother in a crimson glow, and in such a light the mind, too, magnifiedand distorted the objects that the eye beheld. The victorious soldiersthemselves looked with awe upon the burning city. They had felt, in noevent, any desire to plunder or destroy; and now it was alike theirinstinct and wish to save. Regiment after regiment stacked arms onShockoe Hill, divided into companies under the command of officers, anddisappeared down the smoking street--not now fighters of battles, butfighters of fire. The Yankees had, indeed, come in time, for to them thesaving of the city from entire ruin was due. All day they worked withthe people who were left, among the torrents of flame and smoke,suppressing the fire in places, and in others, where they could not,taking out the household goods and heaping them in the squares. Theyworked, too, to an uncommon chorus. Cartridges and shells were explodingin the burning magazines, the cartridges with a steady crackle and theshells with a hiss and a scream and then a stream of light. All the timethe smoke grew thicker and stung the eyes of those who toiled in itseddies.

  Man gradually conquered, and night came upon a city containing acres andacres of smoking ruins, but with the fires out and a part left fit forhuman habitation. Then Prescott turned to go. The Harley house was sweptaway, and the Grayson cottage had suffered the same fate; but theinmates of both were gathered at his mother's home and he knew theywere safe. The stern, military discipline of the conquerors would sooncover every corner of the city, and there would be no more drinking, nomore rioting, no more fires.

  His mother embraced him and wept for the first time.

  "I would have you stay now," she said, "but if you will go I say nothingagainst it."

  Lucia Catherwood gave him her hand and a look which said, "I, too, awaityour return."

  Prescott's horse was gone, he knew not where; so he went into thecountry on foot in search of Lee's army, looking back now and then atthe lost city under the black pall of smoke. While there, he hadretained a hope that Lee would come and retake it, but he had none now.When the Stars and Bars went down on the dome of the Capitol it seemedto him that the sun of the Confederacy set with it. But still he had avague idea of rejoining Lee and fighting to the last; just
why he didnot understand; but the blind instinct was in him.

  He did not know where Lee had gone and he learned that the task offinding him was far easier in theory than in practice. The Northernarmies seemed to be on all sides of Richmond as well as in it, toencircle it with a ring of steel; and Prescott passed night after nightin the woods, hiding from the horsemen in blue who rode everywhere. Hefound now and then food at some lone farmhouse, and heard many reports,particularly of Sheridan, who, they said, never slept, but passed hisdays and nights clipping down the Southern army. Lee, they would say,was just ahead; but when Prescott reached "just ahead" the General wasnot there. Lee always seemed to be fleeing away before him.

  Spring rushed on with soft, warm winds and an April day broke up inrain. The night was black, and Prescott, lost in the woods, seekingsomewhere a shelter, heard a sound which he knew to be the rumble of atrain. Hope sprang up; where there was a train there was a railroad, anda railroad meant life. He pushed on in the direction whence the soundcame, cowering before the wind and the rain, and at last saw a light. Itmight be Yankees or it might not be Yankees, but Prescott now did notcare which, intent as he was upon food and shelter.

  The light led him at last to an unpainted, one-room shanty in the woodsby the railroad track, a telegraph station. Prescott stared in at thewindow and at the lone operator, a lank youth of twenty, who startedback when he saw the unshorn and ghastly face at the window. But herecovered his coolness in a moment and said:

  "Come in, stranger; I guess you're a hungry Reb."

  Prescott entered, and the lank youth, without a word, took down somecrackers and hard cheese from a shelf.

  "Eat it all," he said; "you're welcome."

  Prescott ate voraciously and dried his clothing before the fire in alittle stove.

  The telegraph instrument on a table in a corner kept up a monotonousticking, to which the operator paid no attention. But it was a soothingsound to Prescott, and with the food and the heat and the restfulatmosphere he began to feel sleepy. The lank youth said nothing, butwatched his guest languidly and apparently without curiosity.

  Presently the clicking of the telegraph instrument increased in rapidityand emphasis and the operator went to the table. The rapid tick arousedPrescott from the sleep into which he was falling.

  "Tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack," went the instrument. A look ofinterest appeared on the face of the lank youth.

  "That instrument seems to be talking to you," said Prescott.

  "Yes, it's saying a few words," replied the operator.

  "Tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack!" went the instrument.

  "It's a friend of mine farther up the line," said the boy. "Would youlike to hear what he's saying?"

  "If you don't mind," replied Prescott.

  It was very warm in the room and he was still drowsy. The boy began ina mechanical voice as of one who reads:

  "General Lee surrendered to General Grant to-day----"

  "What's that?" exclaimed Prescott, springing to his feet. But the boywent on:

  "General Lee surrendered to General Grant to-day at Appomattox CourtHouse. The Army of Northern Virginia has laid down its arms and the waris over."

  Prescott stood for a moment like one dazed, then staggered and fell backin his chair.

  "I guess you're one of that army, mister," said the boy, hastilybringing a cup of water.

  "I was," replied Prescott as he recovered himself.

  He stayed all night in the hut--there was nothing now to hurry for--andthe next morning the lank youth, with the same taciturn generosity,shared with him his breakfast.

  Prescott turned back toward Richmond, his heart swelling with the desirefor home. The sun came out bright and strong, the rain dried up, and theworld was again young and beautiful; but the country remained lone anddesolate, and not till nearly noon did he come in contact with humanlife. Then he saw a half-dozen horsemen approaching--whether Northern orSouthern he did not care--it did not matter now, and he went on straighttoward them.

  But the foremost rider leaped down with a cry of joy and wrung his hand.

  "Bob, Bob, old boy!" he said. "We did not know what had become of youand we had given you up for dead!"

  It was Talbot, and Prescott returned his grasp with interest.

  "Is it true--true that Lee has surrendered?" he asked, though knowingwell that it was true.

  Talbot's eyes became misty.

  "Yes, it is all so," he replied. "I was there and I saw it. We went downto Appomattox and the Yankees came right after us--I don't know how manystrong, but too strong for us. Grant would never let us alone. He wasthere at our heels all the time, and Sheridan kept galloping around us,lopping off every straggling regiment and making our lives miserable.When we got to Appomattox we found the Yankees were so thick that westayed there. We couldn't move. There weren't more than fifteen thousandof us left, and we were starved and barefoot. The firing around us neverstopped. Grant kept pressing and pressing. Bob, I felt then thatsomething was going to happen."

  Talbot stopped and choked, but in a moment he went on:

  "Our generals had a big talk--I don't know what they said, but I knowwhat they did. A messenger went over to Grant's army, and by and byGeneral Grant and a lot of officers came and met General Lee and hisstaff, and they went into a house and talked a long time. When they cameout it was all over. The Army of Northern Virginia, the victor of somany great battles, was no more. We couldn't believe it for awhile,though we knew that it must come. We hung around Marse Bob, and askedhim if it was true, and he said it was. He said when a war was over itwas over. He said we were beaten and we must now stop fighting. He toldus all to go home and go to work. It was an undivided Union; the war hadsettled that and we must stick to it. General Grant had promised himthat we shouldn't be harmed, and he told us to think no more of war now,but to rebuild our homes and our country. We loved Marse Bob in victory,but we love him just as much now in defeat. We crowded around him and weshook his hand and we would hardly let him go."

  Talbot choked again, and it was a long time until he continued:

  "General Grant did everything that he promised General Lee. He's theright sort all through--so is the Yankee army. I've got nothing againstit. They never insulted us with a single word. We had our own camp andthey sent us over part of their rations. We needed them badly enough;and then General Grant said that every man among us who had a horse wasto take it--and we did. Here I am on mine, and I reckon you might callit a gift from the Yankee General."

  The little group was silent. They had fought four years, and all hadended in defeat. Tears were wiped from more than one brown face.

  "We're going to Richmond, Bob," said Talbot at last, "and I guess youare bound that way, too. You haven't any horse. Here, get up behind me."

  Prescott accepted the offer, and the silent little group rode on towardRichmond. On the way there Talbot said:

  "Vincent Harley is dead. He was killed at Sailor's Creek. He led a lastcharge and was shot through the heart. He must have died instantly, buthe did not even fall from the saddle. When the charge spent its force,the reins had dropped from his hands, but he was sitting erect--stonedead. It's a coincidence, but General Markham was killed on the sameday."

  Prescott said nothing, but Thomas Talbot, who never remained long in thedepths, soon began to show signs of returning cheerfulness. They stoppedfor a noon rest in a clearing, and after they ate their scanty dinnerTalbot leaped upon a stump.

  "Oyez! Oyez!" he cried. "Attention all! I, Thomas Talbot, do offer forsale one job lot of articles. Never before was there such an opportunityto obtain the rare and valuable at such low prices."

  "What are you selling, Tom?" asked Prescott.

  "Listen and learn," replied Talbot, in sonorous and solemn tones."Gentlemen, I offer to the highest bidder and without reserve oneConfederacy, somewhat soiled, battered and damaged, but surrounded byglorious associations. The former owners having no further use for it,this valuable piece of property is pu
t upon the market. Who'll buy?Who'll buy? Come, gentlemen, bid up. You'll never have another suchchance. What do I hear? What do I hear?"

  "Thirty cents!" called some one.

  "Thirty cents! I am bid thirty cents!" cried Talbot.

  "Confederate money," added the bidder.

  A laugh arose.

  "Do you want me to give you this property?" asked Talbot.

  But he could get no higher bid, and he descended from the stump amidlaughter that bordered closely on something else.

  Then they resumed their journey.