CHAPTER IV
THE FIRST CAPITAL
Harry and Arthur stood two days later upon the sea wall of Charleston.Sumter rose up black and menacing in the clear wintry air. The muzzlesof the cannon seemed to point into the very heart of the city, and overit, as ever, flew the defiant flag, the red and blue burning in vividcolors in the thin January sunshine. The heart of Charleston, that mostintense of all Southern cities, had given forth a great throb. The Starof the West was coming from the North with provisions for the garrisonof beleaguered Sumter. They would see her hull on the horizon inanother hour.
Both Harry and Arthur were trembling with excitement. They were not onduty themselves, but they knew that all the South Carolina earthworksand batteries were manned. What would happen? It still seemed almostincredible to Harry that the people of the Union--at least of the Unionthat was--should fire upon one another, and his pulse beat hard andstrong, while he waited with his comrade.
As they stood there gazing out to sea, looking for the black speckthat should mark the first smoke of the Star of the West, Harry becameconscious that another man was standing almost at his elbow. He glancedup and saw Shepard, who nodded to him.
"I did not know that I was standing by you until I had been here sometime," said Shepard, as if he sought to indicate that he had not beenseeking Harry and his comrade.
"I thought you had left Charleston," said Harry, who had not seen himfor a week.
"Not at such a time," said Shepard, quietly. "So much of overwhelminginterest is happening here that nobody who is alive can go away."
He put a pair of powerful glasses to his eyes and scanned the sea's rim.He looked a long time, and then his face showed excitement.
"It comes! It comes!" he exclaimed, more to himself than to Harry andArthur.
"Is it the steamer? Is it the Star of the West?" exclaimed Harryforgetting all doubts of Shepard in the thrill of the moment.
"Yes, the Star of the West! It can be no other!" replied Shepard."It can be no other! Take the glasses and see for yourself!"
When Harry looked he saw, where sea and sky joined, a black dot thatgradually lengthened out into a small plume. It was not possible torecognize any ship at that distance, but he felt instinctively that itwas the Star of the West. He passed the glasses to Arthur, who alsotook a look, and then drew a deep breath. Harry handed the glasses backto Shepard, saying:
"I see the ship, and I've no doubt that it's the Star of the West.Do you know anything about this vessel, Mr. Shepard?"
"I've heard that she's only a small steamer, totally unfitted foroffense or defense."
"If the batteries fire upon her she's bound to go back."
"You put it right."
"Then, in effect, this is a test, and it rests with us whether or not tofire the first shot."
"I think you're right again."
Others also saw the growing black plume of smoke rising from thesteamer's funnel, and a deep thrilling murmur ran through the crowdgathered on the sea walls. To many the vessel, steaming toward theharbor, was foreign, carrying a foreign flag, but to many others itwas not and could never be so.
Shepard passed the glasses to the boy again, and he looked a second timeat the ship, which was now taking shape and rising fast upon the water.Then he examined the walls of Sumter and saw men in blue moving there.They, too, were watching the coming steamer with the deepest anxiety.
Arthur took his second look also, and Shepard watched through theglasses a little longer. Then he put them in the case which he hungover his shoulder. Glasses were no longer needed. They could now seewith the naked eye what was about to happen--if anything happened at all.
"It will soon be decided," said Shepard, and Harry noticed that hisvoice trembled. "If the Star of the West comes without interference upto the walls of Sumter there will be no war. The minds of men on bothsides will cool. But if she is stopped, then--"
He broke off. Something seemed to choke in his throat. Harry andArthur remained silent.
The ship rose higher and higher. Behind her hung the long black trailof her smoke. Soon, she would be in the range of the batteries.A deep shuddering sigh ran through the crowd, and then came moments ofintense, painful silence. The little blue figures lining the walls ofSumter were motionless. The sea moved slowly and sleepily, its watersdrenched in wintry sunshine.
On came the Star of the West, straight toward the harbor mouth.
"They will not fire! They dare not!" cried Shepard in a tense, strainedwhisper.
As the last word left his lips there was a heavy crash. A tongue offire leaped from one of the batteries, followed by a gush of smoke,and a round shot whistled over the Star of the West. A tremendous shoutcame from the crowd, then it was silent, while that tongue of flameleaped a second time from the mouth of a cannon. Harry saw the waterspring up, a spire of white foam, near the steamer, and a moment latera third shot clipped the water close by. He did not know whether thegunners were firing directly at the vessel or merely meant to warn herthat she came nearer at her peril, but in any event, the effect wasthe same. South Carolina with her cannon was warning a foreign ship,the ship of an enemy, to keep away.
The Star of the West slowed down and stopped. Then another shout,more tremendous than ever, a shout of triumph, came from the crowd,but Harry felt a chill strike to his heart. Young St. Clair, too,was silent and Harry saw a shadow on his face. He looked for Shepard,but he was gone and the boy had not heard him go.
"It is all over," said St. Clair, with the certainty of prophecy."The cannon have spoken and it is war. Why, where is Shepard?"
"I don't know. He seems to have slipped away after the first two orthree shots."
"I suppose he considered the two or three enough. Look, Harry! Theship is turning! The cannon have driven her off!"
He was right. The Star of the West, a small steamer, unable to faceheavy guns, had curved about and was making for the open sea. There wasanother tremendous shout from the crowd, and then silence. Smoke fromthe cannon drifted lazily over the town, and, caught by a contrarybreeze, was blown out over the sea in the track of the retreatingsteamer, where it met the black trail left by that vessel's own funnel.The crowd, not cheering much now, but talking in rather subdued tones,dispersed.
Harry felt the chill down his spine again. These were great matters.He had looked upon no light event in the harbor of Charleston that day.He and Arthur lingered on the wall, watching that trailing black dot onthe horizon, until it died away and was gone forever. The blue figureson the walls of Sumter had disappeared within, and the fortress stood up,grim and silent. Beyond lay the blue sea, shimmering and peaceful inthe wintry sunshine.
"I suppose there is nothing to do but go back to Madame Delaunay's,"said Harry.
"Nothing now," replied St. Clair, "but I fancy that later on we'll haveall we can do."
"If not more."
"Yes, if not more."
Both boys were very grave and thoughtful as they walked to MadameDelaunay's most excellent inn. They realized that as yet South Carolinastood alone, but in the evening their spirits took a leap. News camethat Mississippi also had gone out. Then other planting states followedfast. Florida was but a day behind Mississippi, Alabama went out thenext day after Florida, Georgia eight days later, and Louisiana aweek after Georgia. Exultation rose high in Charleston. All the Gulfand South Atlantic States were now sure, but the great border statesstill hung fire. There was a clamor for Virginia, Kentucky, Marylandand Missouri, and, though the promises from them came thick and fast,they did not go out. But the fiery energy of Charleston and the lowerSouth was moving forward over all obstacles. Already arrangements hadbeen made for a great convention at Montgomery in Alabama, and a newgovernment would be formed differing but little from that of the oldUnion.
Now Harry began to hear much of a man, of whom he had heard his fatherspeak, but who had slipped entirely from his mind. It was JeffersonDavis, a native of Kentucky like
Abraham Lincoln. He had been a braveand gallant soldier at Buena Vista. It was said that he had saved theday against the overwhelming odds of Santa Anna. He had been Secretaryof War in the old Union, now dissolved forever, according to theCharleston talk. Other names, too, began to grow familiar in Harry'sears. Much was said about the bluff Bob Toombs of Georgia, who fearedno man and who would call the roll of his slaves at the foot of BunkerHill monument. And there was little weazened Stephens, also of Georgia,a great intellect in a shrunken frame, and Benjamin of the oldest race,who had inherited the wisdom of ages. There would be no lack of numbersand courage and penetration when the great gathering met at Montgomery.
These were busy and on the whole happy days for Harry and St. Clair.Harry drilled with his comrade in the Palmetto Guards now, and, in duetime, they were going to Montgomery to assist at the inauguration of thenew president, whoever he might be. No vessel had come in place of theStar of the West. The North seemed supine, and Sumter, grim and darkthough she might be, was alone. The flag of the Stars and Stripes stillfloated above it. Everywhere else the Palmetto flag waved defiance.But there was still no passage of arms between Sumter and its hostileneighbors. Small boats passed between the fort and the city, carryingprovisions to the garrison, and also the news. The Charlestonians toldMajor Anderson of the states that went out, one by one, and the braveKentuckian, eating his heart out, looked vainly toward the open sea forthe help that never came.
Exultation still rose in Charleston. The ball was rolling finely.It was even gathering more speed and force than the most sanguine hadexpected. Every day brought the news of some new accession to the cause,some new triumph. The Alabama militia had seized the forts, Morgan andGaines; Georgia had occupied Pulaski and Jackson; North Carolina troopshad taken possession of the arsenal at Fayetteville, and those ofFlorida on the same day had taken the one at Chattahoochee. Everywherethe South was accumulating arms, ammunition and supplies for use--ifthey should be needed. The leaders had good cause for rejoicing.They were disappointed in nothing, save that northern tier of borderstates which still hesitated or refused.
Harry in these days wondered that so little seemed to happen in theNorth. His strong connections and his own good manners had made him afavorite in Charleston. He went everywhere, perhaps most often to theoffice of the Mercury, controlled by the powerful Rhett family, amongthe most fiery of the Southern leaders. Exchanges still came there fromthe northern cities, but he read little in them about preparations forwar. Many attacked Buchanan, the present President, for weakness,and few expected anything better from the uncouth western figure,Lincoln, who would soon succeed him.
Meanwhile the Confederate convention at Montgomery was acting. In thosedays apathy and delay seemed to be characteristic of the North, courageand energy of the South. The new government was being formed with speedand decision. Jefferson Davis, it was said, would be President, andStephens of Georgia would be Vice-President.
The time for departure to Montgomery drew near. Harry and Arthur werein fine gray uniforms as members of the Palmetto Guards. Arthur, light,volatile, was full of pleased excitement. Harry also felt the thrillof curiosity and anticipation, but he had been in Charleston nearly sixweeks now, and while six weeks are short, they had been long enoughin such a tense time to make vital changes in his character. He wasgrowing older fast. He was more of a man, and he weighed and measuredthings more. He recognized that Charleston, while the second city ofthe South in size and the first in leadership, was only Charleston,after all, far inferior in weight and numbers to the great cities ofthe North. Often he looked toward the North over the vast, interveningspace and tried to reckon what forces lay there.
The evening before their departure they sat on the wide piazza thatswept along the entire front of the inn of Madame Delaunay. ColonelLeonidas Talbot and Major Hector St. Hilaire sat with them. They, too,were going to Montgomery. Mid-February had passed, and the day had beenone of unusual warmth for that time of the year, like a day in fullspring. The wind from the south was keen with the odor of fresh foliageand of roses, and of faint far perfumes, unknown but thrilling. A skyof molten silver clothed city, bay, and forts in enchantment. Nothingseemed further away than war, yet they had to walk but a little distanceto see the defiant flag over Sumter, and the hostile Palmetto flagswaving not far away.
Madame Delaunay appeared in the doorway. She was dressed as usual inwhite and her shining black hair was bound with the slender gold fillet.
"We are going away tomorrow, Madame," said Colonel Talbot, "and I knowthat we cannot find in Montgomery any such pleasant entertainment as myyoung friends have enjoyed here."
Harry was confirmed in his belief that the thread of an old romancestill formed a firm tie between them.
"But you will come back," said Madame Delaunay. "You will come backvery soon. Surely, they will not try to keep us from going our ways inpeace."
A sudden thrill of passion and feeling had appeared in her voice.
"That no one can tell, Julie," said Colonel Talbot very gravely--itwas the first time that Harry had ever heard him call her by her firstname--"but it seems to me that I should tell what I think. A Union suchas ours has been formed amid so much suffering and hardship, courage anddanger, that it is not to be broken in a day. We may come back soonfrom Montgomery, Julie, but I see war, a great and terrible war, a war,by the side of which those we have had, will dwindle to mere skirmishes.I shut my eyes, but it makes no difference. I see it close at hand,just the same."
Madame Delaunay sighed.
"And you, Major St. Hilaire?" she said.
"There may be a great war, Madame Delaunay," he said, "I fear thatColonel Talbot is right, but we shall win it."
Colonel Talbot said nothing more, nor did Madame Delaunay. Presentlyshe went back into the house. After a long silence the colonel said:
"If I were not sure that our friend Shepard had left Charleston longsince, I should say that the figure now passing in the street is his."
A small lawn filled with shrubbery stretched before the house, but fromthe piazza they could see into the street. Harry, too, caught a glimpseof a passing figure, and like the colonel he was sure that it wasShepard.
"It is certainly he!" he exclaimed.
"After him!" cried Colonel Talbot, instantly all action. "As sure as welive that man is a spy, drawing maps of our fortifications, and I shouldhave warned the Government before."
The four sprang from the piazza and ran into the street. Harry,although he had originally felt no desire to seize Shepard, was carriedalong by the impetus. It was the first man-hunt in which he had evershared, and soon he caught the thrill from the others. The colonel,no doubt, was right. Shepard was a spy and should be taken. He ranas fast as any of them.
Shepard, if Shepard it was, heard the swift footsteps behind him,glanced back and then ran.
"After him!" cried Major St. Hilaire, his volatile blood leaping high."His flight shows that he's a spy!"
But the fugitive was a man of strength and resource. He ran swiftlyinto a cross street, and when they followed him there he leaped overthe low fence of a lawn, surrounding a great house, darted into theshrubbery, and the four, although they were joined by others, broughtby the alarm, sought for him in vain.
"After all, I'm not sorry he got away," said Colonel Talbot, as theywalked back to Madame Delaunay's. "There is no war, and hence, in amilitary sense, there can be no spies. I doubt whether we should haveknown what to do with him had we caught him, but I am certain that hehas complete maps of all our defenses."
Harry, with Arthur and many others whom he knew, started the next dayfor Montgomery. Jefferson Davis had already been chosen President,and Alexander H. Stephens Vice-President, and Davis was on his wayfrom his Mississippi home to the same town to be inaugurated. In theexcitement over the great event, so near at hand, Harry forgot all aboutShepard and his doubts. He bade a regretful farewell to Charleston,which had taken him to its heart, an
d turned his face to this new place,much smaller, and, as yet, without fame.
Harry, Arthur, and their older friends began the momentous journeyacross the land of King Cotton, passing through the very heart of thelower South, as they went from Charleston to Montgomery. Davis andStephens would be inaugurated on the 17th of that month, which wasFebruary. But the Palmetto Guards would arrive at Montgomery beforeDavis himself, who had left his home and who would cross Mississippi,Alabama, and a corner of Georgia before he reached the new capital toreceive the chief honor.
Trains were slow and halting, and Harry had ample opportunity to seethe land and the people who crowded to the stations to bring news or tohear it. He crossed a low, rolling country with many rivers, great andsmall. He saw large houses, with white-pillared porticos, sitting backamong the trees, and swarms of negro cabins. Much of the region was yetdead and brown from the touch of winter, but in the valleys the greenwas appearing. Spring was in the air, and the spirits of the PalmettoGuards, nearly all of whom were very young, were rising with it.
The train drew into Montgomery, the little city that stood on the highbanks of the Alabama River. Here they were in the very heart of thenew Confederacy, and Harry and Arthur were eager to see the many famousSouthern men who were gathered there to welcome the new President.Jefferson Davis was expected on the morrow, and would be inaugurated onthe day following. They heard that his coming was already a triumphalprogress. Vast crowds held his train at many points, merely to see himand listen to a few words. Generally he spoke in the careful, measuredmanner that was natural to him, but it was said that in Opelika, inAlabama, he had delivered a warning to the North, telling the Northernstates that they would interfere with the Southern at their peril.
Harry and Arthur, despite their eagerness to see the town and the greatmen, were compelled to wait. The Palmetto Guards went into camp on theoutskirts, and their commander, Colonel Leonidas Talbot, late of theUnited States Army, was very strict in discipline. His second incommand, Major Hector St. Hilaire, was no whit inferior to him insternness. Harry had expected that this old descendant of Huguenots,reared in the soft air of Charleston, would be lax, or at least easyof temper, but whatever of military rigor Colonel Talbot forgot,Major St. Hilaire remembered.
The guards were about three hundred in number, and their camp waspitched on a hill, a half mile from the town. The night, after abeautiful day, turned raw and chill, warning that early spring, evenin those southern latitudes, was more of a promise than a performance.But the young troops built several great fires and those who were noton guard basked before the glow.
Harry had helped to gather the wood, most of which was furnished by thepeople living near, and his task was ended. Now he sat on his blanketwith his back against a log and, with a great feeling of comfort,saw the flames leap up and grow. The cooks were at work, and therewas an abundance of food. They had brought much themselves, and theenthusiastic neighbors doubled and tripled their supplies. The pleasantaroma of bacon and ham frying over the coals and of boiling coffeearose. He was weary from the long journey and the work that he had done,and he was hungry, too, but he was willing to wait.
All the troops were South Carolinians except Harry and perhaps a dozenothers. They were a pleasant lot, quick of temper, perhaps, but heliked them. Their prevailing note was high spirits, and the mostcheerful of all was a tall youth named Tom Langdon, whose father ownedone of the smaller of the sea islands off the South Carolina coast.He was quite sanguine that everything would go exactly as they wished.The Yankees would not fight, but, if by any chance they did fight,they would get a most terrible thrashing. Tom, with a tin cup full ofcoffee in one hand and a tin plate containing ham and bread in the other,sat down by the side of Harry and leaned back against the log also.Harry had never seen a picture of more supreme content than his faceshowed.
"In thirty-six hours we'll have a new President, do you appreciate thatfact, Harry Kenton?" asked young Langdon.
"I do," replied Harry, "and it makes me think pretty hard."
"What's the use of worrying? Why, it's just the biggest picnic thatI ever took part in, and if the Yankees object to our setting up forourselves I fancy we'll have to go up there and teach 'em to mind theirown business. I wouldn't object, Harry, to a march at somebody else'sexpense to New York and Philadelphia and Boston. I suppose those citiesare worth seeing."
Harry laughed. Langdon's good spirits were contagious even to a naturemuch more serious.
"I don't look on it as a picnic altogether," he said. "The Yankees willfight very hard, but we live on the land almost wholly, and the grasskeeps on growing, whether there's war or not. Besides, we're an outdoorpeople, good horsemen, hunters, and marksmen. These things ought tohelp us."
"They will and we'll help ourselves most," said Langdon gaily. "I'mgoing to be either a general or a great politician, Harry. If it's along war, I'll come out a general; if it's a short one, I mean to enterpublic life afterward and be a great orator. Did you ever hear me speak,Harry?"
"No, thank Heaven," replied Harry fervently. "Don't you think thatSouth Carolina has enough orators now? What on earth do all your peoplefind to talk about?"
Langdon laughed with the utmost good nature.
"We fire the human heart," he replied. "'Words, words, empty words,' itis not so. Words in themselves are often deeds, because the deeds startfrom them or are caused by them. The world has been run with words.All great actions result from them. Now, if we should have a big war,it would be said long afterward that it was caused by words, wordsspoken at Charleston and Boston, though, of course, the things they sayat Boston are wrong, while those said at Charleston are right."
Harry laughed in his turn.
"It's quite certain," he said, "that you'll have no lack of wordsyourself. I imagine that the sign over your future office will read,'Thomas Langdon, wholesale dealer in words. Any amount of any qualitysupplied on demand.'"
"Not a bad idea," said Langdon. "You mean that as satire, but I'lldo it. It's no small accomplishment to be a good dictionary. But mythoughts turn back to war. You think I never look beyond today, but Ibelieve the North will come up against us. And you'll have to go intoit with all your might, Harry. You are of fighting stock. Your fatherwas in the thick of it in Mexico. Remember the lines:
"We were not many, we who stood Before the iron sleet that day; Yet many a gallant spirit would Give half his years if he but could Have been with us at Monterey."
"I remember them," said Harry, much stirred. "I have heard my fatherquote them. He was at Monterey and he says that the Mexicans foughtwell. I was at Frankfort, the capital of our state, myself with him,when they unveiled the monument to our Kentucky dead and I heard themread O'Hara's poem which he wrote for that day. I tell you, Langdon,it makes my blood jump every time I hear it."
He recited in a sort of low chant:
"The neighing troop, the flashing blade, The bugle's stirring blast, The charge, the dreadful cannonade, The din and shout are past.
"Nor war's wild note, nor glory's peal Shall fill with fierce delight Those breasts that never more may feel The rapture of the fight."
They were very young and, in some respects, it was a sentimental time,much given to poetry. As the darkness closed in and the lights of thelittle city could be seen no longer, their thoughts took a more solemnturn. Perhaps it would be fairer to call them emotions or feelingsrather than thoughts. In the day all had been talk and lightness,but in the night omens and presages came. Langdon was the first torouse himself. He could not be solemn longer than three minutes.
"It's certain that the President is coming tomorrow, Harry, isn't it?"he asked.
"Beyond a doubt. He is so near now that they fix the exact hour,and the Guards are among those to receive him."
"I wonder what he looks like. They say he
is a very great man."
They were interrupted by St. Clair, who threw himself down on a blanketbeside them.
"That's the third cup of coffee you're taking, Tom," he said to Langdon."Here, give it to me. I've had none."
Langdon obeyed and St. Clair drank thirstily. Then he took from theinside pocket of his coat a newspaper which he unfolded deliberately.
"This came from Montgomery," he said. "I heard you two quoting poetry,and I thought I'd come over and read some to you. What do you think ofthis? It was written by a fellow in Boston named Holmes and publishedwhen he heard that South Carolina had seceded. He calls it: 'BrotherJonathan's Lament for Sister Caroline.'"
"Read it!" exclaimed the others.
"Here goes:
"She has gone--she has left us in passion and pride, Our stormy-browed sister so long at our side! She has torn her own star from our firmament's glow, And turned on her brother the face of a foe.
"O Caroline, Caroline, child of the sun, We can never forget that our hearts have been one, Our foreheads both sprinkled in Liberty's name From the fountain of blood with the fingers of flame."
St. Clair read well in a full, round voice, and when he stopped with thesecond verse Harry said:
"It sounds well. I like particularly that expression, 'the fingers offlame.' After all, there's some grief in parting company, breaking upthe family, so to speak."
"But he's wrong when he says we left in passion and pride," exclaimedLangdon. "In pride, yes, but not in passion. We may be children ofthe sun, too, but I've felt some mighty cold winds sweeping down fromthe Carolina hills, cold enough to make fur-lined overcoats welcome.But we'll forget about cold winds and everything else unpleasant,before such a jolly fire as this."
They finished an abundant supper, and soon relapsed into silence.The flames threw out such a generous heat that they were content to resttheir backs against the log, and gaze sleepily into the coals. Beyondthe fire, in the shadow, they saw the sentinels walking up and down.Harry felt for the first time that he was really within the iron bandsof military discipline. He might choose to leave the camp and go intoMontgomery, but he would choose and nothing more. He could not go.Colonel Leonidas Talbot and Major Hector St. Hilaire were friends,but they were masters also, and he was recognizing sooner than some ofthe youths around him that it was not merely play and spectacle thatawaited them.
The Guns of Bull Run: A Story of the Civil War's Eve Page 5