Читать книгу Who Would Have Thought It? - María Ruiz de Burton - Страница 18

CHAPTER XVI.
"VENI, VIDI, VICI."

Оглавление

Table of Contents

The Northern army at last marched upon the South, and was met at Bull Run by the Southern.

With flying colors, and full bands playing stirring melodies, battalion after battalion went down Pennsylvania Avenue, down Seventh Street, to the Long Bridge out of Washington.

The zouaves, with their gay uniforms, marched out saluted by enthusiastic shouts of the boys, and the ladies waved with their handkerchiefs their farewell.

Among the zouaves there marched two young men whom we will again meet in these pages. They labored, under the classic names of Æschylus Wagg and Sophocles Head, up their rugged path in life, and now shone in the red breeches and blue jackets of the zouave uniform.

The First Rhode Island Regiment also marched out gallantly, cheered and saluted by the white handkerchiefs of the ladies. Many of the fair enthusiasts followed the brave warriors beyond the Long Bridge, and carried bouquets and garlands to decorate them. Even the horses which the warriors rode were decorated with flowers. Garlands made by fair hands hung around the horses' necks. The army seemed to be on its way to a festival rather than to deal death and desolation.

Isaac Sprig, too, wore a wreath around his hat, which the trembling hands of the pretty Lucinda had placed there, leaving a tear shining like a diamond on a red rosebud.

History has recorded the result of the Bull Run battle. This narrative has to do only with our friends Julian, Isaac, and the Cackles.

The companies commanded by Julian and Isaac were among the first to go into action. Julian was severely wounded and carried off the field within an hour after the firing had begun. Isaac, also, was wounded and made a prisoner with his first lieutenant Mark Antony-called for short Tony -Cackle. They had the grief of seeing their company and their whole regiment run as fast as heels propelled by panic could carry them, whilst they were picked up by the rebels.

The company of Julius Cackle was more fortunate. No one in it was wounded or made prisoner, though many were terribly scratched in their frantic running through the bushes.

As for Julius himself, the stampede made his fortune. He was one of the foremost leaders of the flight, and soon he distanced the fleetest. As he ran madly in the van, his luck-having determined to be propitious--brought him slap against a horse and buggy also going towards Washington. The horse took matters more philosophically than the scared Cackle, and he grazed along the road wherever he found a tempting tuft of grass.

When the horse heard Cackle's footsteps, he started at a jog-trot, but when the voice of Cackle sent a quivering shout to him, the animal, to the great joy of the frightened warrior, stopped still and waited. With trembling eager hands the panic-stricken captain seized the reins which rested on the dasher, and the whip, and commenced to lash the horse to put him at his full speed.

The captain had not traveled long at this furious rate, when he came to a brook which seemed rather deep. The horse stopped, and Cackle gave a disconsolate imploring look at the surrounding shrubbery. A little farther up, the brook seemed more shallow: he directed the horse to that spot, and began to cross the little stream. A moan and a sob attracted his attention. There on the opposite bank, in front of him, he saw a man lying on his back, who lifted his trembling hands imploringly to him.

Cackle was too frightened to be merciful; he was going on his way, leaving the prostrate man where he was, but the latter gave such a doleful bawl, expressive of so much terror and pain, that the horse of his own accord stopped, as if determined to teach the captain that to "do unto others," etc. should not be forgotten.

"For the love of God, do not leave me," said the prostrate man, and, as the horse was standing still, Cackle thought the shortest way would be to see if he could take the man with him. But, not wishing to lose precious moments by getting out, he said to the man, "Come on, then. Make haste."

"I can't walk. Do help me, my dear Cackle. Don't leave me here."

"Who are you?" said the captain, getting out. "You seem to know me. Ah! what the devil are you doing here?" and Cackle involuntarily carried his hand to his revolver, for his first impulse was to shoot the prostrate man-being no other than the Hon. Le Grand Gunn, who had caused his dismissal together with that of Isaac.

"My horse threw me; he got frightened seeing so many soldiers running past us. He began to run so fast that I couldn't keep in the saddle, and I fell off. Then I ran on foot until I could run no more. I am entirely exhausted. If you don't take me in your buggy, I must die here," said Mr. Gunn, in a very faint voice.

"But what business have you here, anyhow? What brought you to Bull Run on the day we were to have the battle?" asked Cackle.

"We came to see the battle from the distance. We thought it would be such a splendid sight. So three or four of us Representatives, and two or three Senators, got together to have some fun coming over to see the fight."

And you have seen it; and I hope you are satisfied, you and your friends, with the dd fun you politicians have made for us all," said Cackle, too terrified to be diplomatic, and forgetting his own uproarious loyalty besides.

But he got out of his buggy, though with many glances askance towards the south, and helped the exhausted M.C. on his legs.

"I am utterly used up. I can't drag my legs to the buggy, even," said Mr. Gunn.

"Then I must drag you: for I have no notion of being nabbed by the rebs," said the captain, taking the faint M.C. in his arms, which plowing and mowing had made as strong as if of iron, and, placing him on the buggy, started off at full gallop.

The Hon. Gunn was not forgetful of the great service rendered by Cackle. He took care that he should be promoted. He made a most magnificent panegyric of the heroic behavior of the captain, so that he got him appointed colonel and breveted brigadier-general. Soon after, the lucky Cackle was made brigadier-general. His friend Gunn had argued well that a man who could run so judiciously as Cackle did would certainly make a good leader.

As for Mark Antony Cackle, captured with Isaac, he was immediately exchanged and made colonel, vice Cackle, promoted.

And Isaac: what of him?

Who Would Have Thought It?

Подняться наверх