Читать книгу The Young Lieutenant; or, The Adventures of an Army Officer - Oliver 1822-1897 Optic - Страница 14

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“Lieutenant Somers, I don’t think I can stand it much longer,” said Phineas Deane, a private, who had joined the regiment a few days before the battle, as he saluted his officer.

“Can’t stand what?”

“The fact on’t is, lieutenant, I’m sick. I haven’t felt well for two or three days. I come out here to fight for my country, and I want to do some good. I might help take them prisoners back, if you say so.”

“Sick, are you? What’s the matter?”

“I’ve got a bad pain in the bowels,” replied Phineas, as he placed himself on the right side of a tree, and glanced uneasily in the direction of the rebel skirmish line. “I’m subject to sich turns, but allus git over ’em if I have a chance to lay down for a few hours.”

“Oh, well, you can lie down here!” added Somers, who understood the case pretty well.

“What! down here in the mud and water? Wal, that would be rather steep for a sick man,” said Phineas, with a ghastly smile, as he glanced again towards the enemy.

“I will get some medicine for you. Here, uncle, let me have one of your powders,” continued the lieutenant, addressing old Hapgood.

“Sartin; they’ve done me heaps of good, and I’m sure they’re just the thing for that man.”

Somers took one of the powders, and opened the paper.

“Now, my man, open your mouth, and let me give you this medicine,” he added.

“What kind of medicine is it?”

“It’ll make you kinder sick to the stomach; but it’ll cure you in less’n half an hour.”

“Well, lieutenant, I don’t know as I want to take any medicine,” answered poor Phineas, who was not prepared for this active treatment; though he would have taken it quick enough if he could be sent to the rear. “I guess I don’t keer about takin’ on it.”

“You needn’t, if you don’t want to get well.”

“I only want to go back to camp, and lay down for a spell.”

“We can’t spare you just yet, Phineas; but, if you don’t stir yourself, you will lie down here somewhere, and never get up again,” added Somers, as a shower of bullets passed over their heads. “Forward, boys!”

The captain detailed a couple of men to conduct the prisoners to the rear, and the company pressed forward. The rebel sharpshooters were dislodged from the trees; a few prisoners were captured; but the heavy fighting and the heavy losses fell upon other portions of the line. The rebels had been forced back, and the movement seemed to be a success. Half the regiment moved out of the woods, while the rest remained under the trees; when a halt was ordered. Somers found himself near an old house, behind which a number of rebel sharpshooters had concealed themselves for the purpose of picking off the Union soldiers.

The firing in the immediate vicinity had diminished, though the din of battle resounded on both sides. The boys were rather nervous, as men are when standing idle under fire; but it was the nervousness of restrained enthusiasm, not of fear, unless it was in the case of invalid Phineas, and a very few others whose physical health had not been completely established.

“Well, Somers, my dear boy, how do you get on?” asked Captain de Banyan, as he sauntered leisurely up to the lieutenant, whose command stood next to his own.

“First-rate; only I should like to have something a little more active than standing here.”

“It takes considerable experience to enable a man to stand still under fire. When I was at the battle of Alma, I learned that lesson to a charm. We stood up for forty-two hours under a fierce fire of grape and canister, to say nothing of musketry.”

“Forty-two hours!” exclaimed Somers. “I should think you would all have been killed off before that time.”

“In our regiment, only one man was killed; and he got asleep, and walked in his dreams over towards the enemy’s line.”

“Captain, you can tell a bigger story than any other man in the army,” said Somers, laughing.

“That’s because I have seen more of the world. When you have been about as much as I have, you will know more about it.”

“No doubt of it.”

“I should be very happy to be more actively employed just now; but I am very well contented where I am.”

The position they occupied enabled the two officers to see some sharp fighting along the line. Through an opening at the right, they saw a rebel regiment, wearing white jackets, or else stripped to their shirts, march at double-quick, in splendid order, with arms at “right shoulder shift,” to the scene of action. It was probably some volunteer body from Richmond, whom the ladies of the rebel capital had just dismissed, with sweet benedictions, to sweep the “foul Yankees” from the face of the earth. They were certainly a splendid body of men; and the ladies might well be proud of them. They went into the field in good style, with the blessings of the fair still lingering fondly in their ears. But one volley from the veterans of the Army of the Potomac was enough for them, and they gave way, running off the field in wild disorder, threading their way in terror through the bushes, every man for himself. It is not likely that they were welcomed back from the gory field by the frothy feminine rebels of Richmond.

“That’s just the way the Russians ran at Palestro!” exclaimed Captain de Banyan, as he watched the exciting scene.

“The Russians at Palestro!” added Somers, “I think you have got things a little mixed, captain.”

Before this difficult question could be settled, Captain de Banyan was ordered to take a sufficient force, and drive out the rebels who were skulking behind the old house.

“Somers, you shall go with me,” said he, when he had received his orders from the colonel. “We’ll do a big thing, if there is any chance.”

“I am ready for anything, big or little, captain,” replied Somers heartily. “What shall I do?”

“March your men over by that little knoll, and come round on the other side of the house; I will move up in another direction, and we will bag the whole squad. But mind you, Somers, the enemy are round that way; don’t let them gobble you up or lay you out.”

“I will do the best I can, captain.”

“Angels could do no more.”

The lieutenant advanced, with the men detailed for the purpose, towards the hillock. By taking a circuitous route, he avoided the observation of the rebels behind the house, and reached the other side of the knoll, where, behind the friendly shelter of a clump of bushes, he was enabled to survey the ground. Not more than a quarter of a mile distant he discovered the rebel breastworks. It was about the same distance to the house.

Between the knoll and the house there was a small patch of wheat, which, by some chance, had escaped the havoc of foraging parties. Though the grain was not full-grown, it would afford concealment to his men. In order to reach it, he must expose his men to a volley from the rifle-pits, or from any body of rebels which might be posted in the vicinity. He could not afford to lose a single man, and he was perplexed to determine how he should overcome the distance between the wheat-field and the knoll.

It seemed to him very singular that he had not already been fired upon; and he concluded that it was because his party had been mistaken for rebels, or because some of their troops were between him and the Union lines. Whether the enemy had been deceived or not, he was fully determined to afford them no further information in regard to his politics, if any of them had seen him. He therefore ordered his men to take off their coats, which some of them had done before they started on the expedition. The blue trousers could not be so easily disposed of; but as some of the boys had straw hats, some felt, and some caps, it would have been hard to determine what they were at the distance of a quarter of a mile, especially as some of the Confederates wore the plundered clothing of the Union army.

After instructing his force in regard to their future conduct, he marched them boldly into the open space. To assist the deception, he directed one of his men to halt occasionally, and point his musket in the direction of the Union pickets. Not a shot was fired at them; and when the young lieutenant reached the wheat-field he fancied that he was clever enough for any brigadier in the rebel army.

It was desirable that the rebel sharpshooters at the house should not be alarmed; and, when his men reached the grain, Somers ordered them to get down upon their hands and knees, and creep cautiously towards the point to be assailed. The lieutenant, like a good officer, led the way himself, and had advanced about half the distance to be accomplished, when he heard a rustling noise in the grain before him. It was an ominous sound, and he paused to take an observation. He could not see anything without standing up; and, as he was within twenty rods of the house, it was necessary to avoid exposing himself.

From whatever source the sounds proceeded, it was just as safe to advance as it was to retreat; and he decided to go forward. With the utmost caution, he continued to creep along through the wheat; but he was careful to assure himself that his men’s muskets and his own revolver were in condition for instant use. After he had gone a few rods farther, the sounds were more apparent; and, with no little consternation, he heard voices, rich with an unmistakable Southern accent.

“I tell you, more of our fellers is coming through the grain. You mought hear ’em, ef you weren’t deafer’n a dead nigger.”

“I heerd ’em. You kin bet yer life they’re some of our pickets. Howsomever, I’m gwine to see.”

“Hush, my men! don’t speak a word!” whispered the young lieutenant. “Lie flat on the ground.”

The rebels were nearer than he had supposed; for, as he turned from his men, he discovered a wiry grayback, with the chevrons of a sergeant on his arms, trying to stare him out of countenance. The fellow did not look wholesome; and Somers was in doubt whether to blow his brains out, or let things take their natural course.

“Who mought you be?” demanded the grayback, exhibiting more curiosity than of fear in his dirty face.

“One of the people,” replied Somers, disposed to avoid a direct issue. “Who are you?”

“I’m one of the people too,” grinned the rebel.

“I see you are; and I suppose you belong to the army, don’t you?”

“Bet your life I do.”

“Of course you won’t object to telling me which army you belong to, as there may be some difference of opinion between us.”

“ ’Tain’t no use to ask a officer dressed in blue, and lookin’ as spruce as you be, whar he kim from. I say, Yank, what are you uns doin’ in hyar?”

“Only taking a look.”

“You’re as civil as a Mobile dancin’-master; and I axes yer, very perlite, to surrender.”

“How many men have you got, reb?” demanded the lieutenant, as he put his hand on his revolver.

“See hyar, Yank; play fair. You uns allers cheat playin’ poker. Don’t tech yer shooter yet,” replied the grayback coolly, as he thrust the muzzle of his gun in the lieutenant’s face. “Two kin play at that game, and your wife or mine will be a lone widder quicker’n a coon kin wink at the moon. I’ve got seven men,” he added.

“I have twenty-three,” said Somers.

“Then yer kin whip us if yer be Yanks; for three of you uns can just lick one of we uns.”

“That’s good logic. Will you surrender, or fight?” demanded Somers.

“Let me count your men. I surrender,” he continued, after he had stood up, and counted the Union soldiers. “Here’s my shooter; fair play, even with Yanks.”

Leaving a guard of eight men with his prisoners when they were disarmed, Somers hastened forward to complete his mission.