The Guns of Bull Run: A Story of the Civil War's Eve by Joseph A. Altsheler (ebook reader for pc txt) 📗

drifted on with the crowd toward the Capitol, which rose nobler and more imposing than ever, a great marble building, gleaming white in the sunshine. Harry's heart throbbed. He could not yet dissociate himself from the idea that he, as one of the nation, was a part owner of the Capitol. But, forgetting all danger, he persisted in his errand. A great event was about to occur, and he intended to see it.

There were soldiers everywhere. The streets blazed with uniforms, but the people were allowed to gather about the Capitol and many also entered. A friendly sentinel passed Harry, who stood for a few moments in the rotunda. He was careful to keep near other spectators, in order that he might not attract attention to himself.

All things that he saw cut sharply into his sensitive and eager mind. It was in truth an extraordinary situation for one who had come as he had come, and he waited, calm of face, but with every pulse beating. The comments of the other spectators told him who the famous men were as they entered. Here were Cameron and Wade of the lowering brows. There passed Taney, the venerable Chief Justice, and then dry and quiet Hamlin, the Vice-President, on his way to preside over the Senate, went by. A tall and magnificent figure in a general's uniform next attracted Harry's attention. He was an old man, but he held himself very erect and his head was crowned with splendid snowy hair.

"Old Fuss and Feathers," said a man near Harry, and the boy knew that this was General Scott, the Virginian, who had led the famous and victorious march into the City of Mexico, and who was now in name, but in name only, commander of the Northern army. His father had served under him in those memorable battles and Harry looked at him with a certain veneration, as the old man passed on and disappeared in another room. Then came more, some famous and others destined to be so.

The atmosphere of the great building was surcharged. Harry and his comrades had heard that the North was discouraged, that the people would not fight, that they would "let the erring sisters go in peace." It did not seem so to him here. The talk was all of war and of invading the South, and he seemed to feel a tenacious spirit behind it.

He managed to secure entrance to the lobbies of both Senate and House, and he listened for a while to the debates. He discovered the same spirit there. He felt that he had a right to report not only on the forts of Washington and the movements of brigades, but also on the temper in the North. Resolution and tenacity, he now saw, were worth as much as cannon balls.

Harry did not leave the Capitol until the middle of the afternoon, when he drifted back to the restaurant at which he had obtained his breakfast, where he spent the other half of the dollar for luncheon. Then he resolved to escape from Washington that night. He had picked up by casual talk and observation together a fair knowledge of Washington's defenses. Above all he had learned that the North was pouring troops in an unbroken stream into the capital, and that the great advance on the line of Bull Run would take place very soon. He could scarcely expect to achieve more; he had already surpassed his hopes, and it was surely time to go.

He left the restaurant. The streets were still crowded, and he saw standing at the nearest corner a figure that seemed familiar. He took a long look, and then he was shaken with alarm. It was Shepard. He had seen him under such tense conditions that he could never forget the man. The turn of his shoulders, the movement of his head—all were familiar. And Harry had a great respect for the keenness and intelligence of Shepard. He could not forget how Shepard had talked to him that night in Montgomery. There was something uncanny about the man, and he had a sudden conviction that Shepard had seen him long since and was watching him. He thrust his hands into his capacious pockets. The pistols were still there, and he resolved that he would use them if need be.

He went at first toward the Potomac, and he did not look back for a long time, rambling about the streets in a manner apparently aimless. Now and then a quiver ran down his back, and he knew it was due to the mental fear that Shepard was pursuing. When he did look back at last he did not see him, and he felt immediate elation. It would not be long now until dark, and then he would make his escape across the river.

Time was slow, but it could not keep darkness back forever, and, as soon as it had come fully, he turned toward the north. Southern troops would not be looked for there, and egress would be easier in that direction. He passed on without interruption and soon was in the suburbs, which were then so shabby. Then he looked back, and cold fear plucked at the roots of his hair. A man was following him, and he could tell even in the dim light that it was Shepard.

A shudder shook him now. A rope was the fate for a spy. But he recovered himself and walked on faster than ever. The cabins thinned away, and he saw before him bushes. His keen hearing brought to him the soft sound of the pursuing footsteps. Now he took his resolution. There were few games at which two could not play.

He passed between two bushes, came around and returned to the open. But he returned with one of the pistols cocked and levelled, his finger on the trigger. Shepard, pursuing swiftly, walked almost against the muzzle, and Harry laughed softly.

"Well, Mr. Shepard," he said, "you've followed me well, but as I've no mind to be hung for a spy or anything else, I must ask you to go back."

"You have the advantage at present, it is true," said Shepard, "but what makes you think I was going to shoot at you or have you seized?"

"Isn't it what one would naturally expect?"

"Yes—perhaps. But I could have given the alarm while you were still in the city. I speak the truth when I say I do not know just what I had in mind. But at all events the tables are turned. You hold me at the pistol's muzzle and I admit it."

He smiled and the boy could not keep from liking him.

"Mr. Shepard," said Harry, "what you told me at Montgomery was true. We of the South did not realize the numbers, power and spirit of the North. I know now the truth of what you told me, but, on the other hand, you of the North do not realize the fire, courage and devotion of the South."

"I understand it, but I'm afraid that not many of our people do so. Suppose we call it quits once more. Let this be Montgomery over again. You do not want to shoot me here any more than I wanted to shoot you down there."

"I admit that also," said Harry.

"Then you are safe from me, if I'm safe from you."

"Agreed," said Harry, as he lowered the weapon.

"Good-bye," said Shepard.

"Good-bye."

But they did not offer to shake hands. Each turned his back on the other, and, when Harry stopped in the bushes, he saw only the dim outlines of Washington. At midnight he found a colored man who, for pay, rowed him across the Potomac. At dawn he found his horse peacefully grazing in the meadow, and at the next dawn he was once more within the southern lines.

CHAPTER XV BATTLE'S EVE

Harry found little change in the Southern army, except that more troops had come up from Richmond. It still rested upon Bull Run. The country here was old, having been cropped for many generations, the soil mostly clay and cut in deep ruts. There were many ravines and water courses, and hillocks were numerous. Colonel Talbot had told Harry a month before that it was not a bad place for a battle ground, and he remembered it now as he came back to it. He had not taken the time to return to the charcoal burner's hut for his uniform, and, when he approached his own lines he still wore the Sunday best of Perkins.

The sentinel who hailed him first doubted his claim that he was a member of the Invincibles, but he insisted so urgently, and called all its officers by name so readily that he was passed on. He dismounted, gave his horse to an orderly, and walked toward a clump of trees where he saw Colonel Talbot writing at a small table in the open. The colonel, engrossed in his work, did not look up, as the boy's footsteps made little sound on the turf. When Harry stood before him he saluted and said:

"I have returned to make my report, Colonel Talbot."

The colonel looked up, uttered a cry of pleasure and seized Harry by both hands.

"Thank God, you've come back, my boy!" he said. "I hesitated to send your father's son on such an errand, but I thought that you would succeed. You have seen the enemy's forces?"

"I've been in Washington, itself," said Harry, some pride showing in his voice.

"Then we'll go at once to General Beauregard. He is in his tent now, conferring with some of his chief officers."

A great marquee stood in the shade of a grove, only two or three hundred yards away. Its sides were open, as the heat was great, and Harry saw the commander-in-chief within, talking earnestly with men in the uniform of generals. Longstreet, Early, Hill and others were there. Harry was somewhat abashed, but he had the moral support of Colonel Talbot, and, after the first few moments of embarrassment, he told his story in a direct and incisive manner. The officers listened with attention.

"It confirms the other reports," said Beauregard.

"It goes further," said Longstreet. "Our young friend here is obviously a lad of intelligence and discernment and what he saw in Washington shows that the North is resolved to crush us. The battle that we are going to fight will not be the last battle by any means."

"Each side is too sanguine," said Hill.

"You have done well, Lieutenant Kenton," said Beauregard, "and now you can rejoin your regiment. You are to receive a promotion of one grade."

Harry was glad to leave the marquee and hurry toward the camp of the Invincibles. The first of his friends whom he saw was Happy Tom Langdon, bathing his face in a little stream that flowed into Young's Branch. He walked up and smote him joyously on the back. Langdon sprang to his feet in anger and exclaimed:

"Hey, you fellow, what do you mean by that?"

He saw before him a tall, gawky youth in ill-fitting clothes, his face a mask of dust. But this same dusty youth grinned and replied:

"I hit you once, and if you don't speak to me more politely I'll hit you twice."

Langdon stared. Then recognition came.

"Harry Kenton, by all that's wonderful!" he exclaimed. "And so you've come back! I was afraid you never would! What have you been doing, Harry?"

"I've been pretty busy. I drove in the right wing of the Yankee army, put to flight a couple of brigades in their center, then I went on to Washington and had a talk with Lincoln. I told him the North would have me to reckon with if he kept on with this war, but he said he believed he'd go ahead anyhow. I even mentioned your name to him, but the menace did no good."

Langdon called to St. Clair and soon Harry was surrounded by friends who gave him the warmest of greetings and who insisted upon the tale of his adventures, a part of which he was free to tell. Then a new uniform was brought to him, and, after a long and refreshing bath in a deep pool of the stream, he put it on. He felt now as if he had been entirely made over, and, as he strolled back to camp, a tall, thin