■• • • a a • f a ii !^ aiOLa 
 
 r^r 
 
 
 
THE UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 THE WILMER COLLECTION 
 
 OF CIVIL WAR NOVELS 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 RICHARD H. WILMER, JR. 
 
;2:>CE 
 
 This BOOK may be kept out TWO WEEKS 
 ONLY, and is subject to a fine of FIVE 
 CENTS a day thereafter. It was taken out on 
 the day indicated below: 
 
 Wia(4v.iW 
 
dl)^ 
 
WH Butler AglUfh Phils. 
 
 Copm'oM, I83S tr, Tfio: Hi/nter 
 
ROBERT ^ATARREN, 
 
 The Texan Refugee. 
 
 THRILLING STORY OF FIELD MD CAMP LIFE 
 
 THE LATE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 CHICAGO, ILLS. : 
 
 VT". H. HABRISON, JR., 
 
 Publisher and BooKSEiiLEB, 
 
COPYRIGHT 
 
 By JOHN E. POTTER AND COMPANY 
 
 1879 
 

 PREFACE 
 
 The recent war between the States gave rise to 
 many courageous deeds, and furnished the histo- 
 rian, the poet, and the novelist with the noblest 
 themes that can inspire the pen of any writer. 
 Nor was it the battle-field alone that brought into 
 play the highest qualities of manhood ; some of 
 the most signal instances of patriotic self-devotion 
 and heroic endurance were enacted at home — in 
 every town and hamlet throughout the land. The 
 purpose of the present story, which is founded 
 upon actual facts, is to present to the reader a 
 picture of events occurring during the late Civil 
 War, in which the strong points and striking 
 features of Southern life and character in camp 
 and field, as also the home circle, are faithfully 
 portrayed; and with a view of preventing the 
 stirring scenes of that momentous period of our 
 national existence from passing out of the mem- 
 ory of the present generation, their narration in 
 a highly attractive and entertaining style is now 
 offered to the public. 
 
 (iii) 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Lone Star State 5 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 At the Polls i6 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Waylaid 26 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 The Parlor and the Cabin 33 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Anarchy 47 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 "Near Used Up." 55 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 The Journey Northward 66 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 The Lakes 79 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 Tad's Cabin Burned 85 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 On the Island 94 
 
 (v) 
 
vi TABLE OF CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 Saved, and yet Lost 103 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Kentucky "i 
 
 CHAPTER XIIL 
 Speculations 120 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 The Barbecue 13° 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Trials of Southern Loyalists 139 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 The Old Man's Story 149 
 
 CHAPTER XVIL 
 Preparing for Active Service 158 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIL 
 The Situation after the Battle 168 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Un^velcome Visitor 183 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 Again on the Road 192 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 Fort Donelson 202 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 The Home at Gonzelletta 213 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS. vU 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 The Four Women in Council 224 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 The Journey to Tennessee *33 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 The Journey Continued 245 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 On the Atchafalaya *5^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 Warren, Gaines, and the two Dawns 270 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 Father and Son • 3^3 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Shiloh 31* 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 The Ideal Battle 3^2 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 Disasters ,....» 349 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 Trials of the Campaign 3^1 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 The Lost Sister • • 37© 
 
 The Scouts Re-enforced 39* 
 
Till TABLE OF CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 PAGB 
 
 The Field after the Battle 407 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 *« The City of a Hundred Hills." 433 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 The Confederacy Bisected 448 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 In Hospital 473 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 A Mighty Man of War 501 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 Little Ned 519 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 Old Friends 531 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 The Last but One 545 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 GONZEUJCTTA •••• 554 
 
CHAPTEE I, 
 
 THE LONE STAR STATE. 
 
 The mass of our countrymen know as little about 
 Texas as they do about Tartary. Indeed, their 
 ideas of both places are somewhat alike. As Texas 
 is yet destined, by its soil and productions, to be the 
 Italy of America, it will not be considered foreign to 
 give a short sketch of this favored land as a proper in- 
 troduction to the story of one of her sons. 
 
 Few countries present such a variety of climate, 
 surface, and soil as Texas. It abounds in rugged 
 mountains and sea-like prairies, in dense forests and 
 open plains, in fertile fields and arid deserts. On 
 its northern front the clear streams are frozen in the 
 winter season, and the maple, walnut, and beech grow 
 on their banks, while mountain trout in myriads ani- 
 mate the waters. The same streams, flowing south to 
 the gulf for hundreds of miles, become sluggish, 
 muddy rivers, reflecting the live oak, the pecan and 
 wild orange, linked by the amorous mustang vines 
 into a tangled mass of tropical glory on their banks, 
 while the gar-fish and alligator glide through the 
 sleepy waters. The vegetable and mineral produc- 
 tions of Texas vary with the face of the country. 
 1* 
 
6 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The hills of the central north are rich in gold-bearing 
 quartz. Vast veins of almost pure iron are found in 
 this region, and quarries of white marble rival the 
 famous productions of Italy, while coal in abundance 
 crops out from the ground. 
 
 Going south to within one hundred miles of the 
 gulf, the ores are lost, nor is the smallest pebble 
 met, to break the level expanse of deep, rich loam 
 which stretches away, far as the eye can reach, into 
 boundless prairies. Here and there on the sea-like 
 surface clusters of timber, like islands, rise, and in 
 the peculiar mirage that in the summer time is ever 
 changing the distant forms, the groves seem mir- 
 rored in the grassy ocean. Thousands of large- 
 homed cattle revel in the rich, green pastures. 
 Flocks of wild geese fill the air with their shrill cries, 
 and herds of red deer sport through the meadows 
 of Indian pinks, Texas stars, and flowering cactus, 
 which in the spring time convert the prairie into a 
 vast, variegated cai-pet of ever-changing hues as it 
 rises and falls in billowy undulations before the soft 
 south wind. 
 
 In this cosmos the apple and peach, with the hardy 
 cereals of the north, yield bountiful harvests, while, 
 do^^^l by the gulf, the orange, the pomegranate and 
 fig inclose fields of com, cotton and sugar. This di- 
 versity of climate, soil, and productions is only ex- 
 ceeded by the difference in the classes that inhabit 
 Texas. At one time it was the rendezvous for the 
 outcasts of every land ; the debtor and the desperado, 
 the robber and murderer, from west of the Eio Grande 
 and east of the Mississippi, found in its dense forests 
 and uninhabited plains a perfect asylum. Those at 
 
THE LONE STAR STATE. 7 
 
 all inclined to industry had an inducement to settle 
 down, from the ease with which they could live, where 
 the prairies teemed with cattle and the soil was so 
 productive of harvests. 
 
 After Texas had become one of the family of 
 States, a different class of people emigrated thence. 
 Mechanics from the northern States and planters 
 from the South, sturdy, blue-eyed Germans from the 
 Ehine, and sallow-faced, volatile Gauls from Aca- 
 dia, formed committees to put down crime, or banded 
 together to brand their herds in the spring and fall. 
 Still the morals of the Texans, as a people, never 
 stood very high. The wild, free life of the ranger, 
 and the sparsely -settled territory through which he 
 roamed, made him the judge of the offense as well as 
 the executioner of the penalty. He would grasp as 
 that of a brother the hand red with the blood of a 
 companion stabbed in some drunken fray, while he 
 would hang without remorse the wretch who stole 
 a horse as a being too degraded to live, though the 
 prairies teemed with mustangs valued at the trouble 
 of catching. 
 
 There were exceptions to this rule to be found in 
 many settlements throughout the State — places where 
 right was adkered to for the sake of right ; where 
 white-spired churches could be seen peeping from 
 green groves, and w^here, on Sabbath days, songs of 
 praise could be heard ascending to Him who had 
 created this beautiful land. 
 
 Such a settlement was Gt)nzelletta, on the San Ber- 
 nard Kiver, a few hours' ride from the point where it 
 empties into the Gulf of Mexico. At one time Gou- 
 zelletta was a flourishing village, with a mixed Span- 
 
8 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ish and American population, but, after the battle of 
 San Jacinto, the Mexicans burned the place in their 
 retreat, and, although it was never rebuilt, the set- 
 tlement on the edge of the prairie still retains the 
 name of the town. To those accustomed to a roll- 
 ing coimtry this place would at first appear monoto- 
 nous, but the clear skies, the bracing air, the sweep- 
 ing plains, and the dark, rich verdure soon compen- 
 sate for hill, cliff, and cataract in the more sterile 
 north. Gonzelletta, with its half score rich planta- 
 tions, its handsome dwellings, embowered in groves 
 ^f magnolia, and surrounded by masses of tropical 
 flowers, and the village-like clusters of negro cabins 
 under the edge of the woods, fonned a picture of 
 beauty and peace that never wearied the eye. 
 
 At the date of our narrative — February, 1861 — the 
 two principal plantations in the place were owned by 
 Kobert Warren, senior, and Mrs. Boardman, a widow 
 lady who had settled in Gonzelletta with her husband 
 in '52. Mr. Boardman was an invalid, and left Ten- 
 nessee for Texas by the advice of his physicians, but 
 death sought out his mark as quickly as if it had not 
 been moved, and Mr. Boardman died within two 
 years. He left his large estate to his widow and an 
 only child. Amy, who, at the time named as the 
 commencement of our story, was in her eighteenth 
 year. 
 
 As this is not a novel, the writer cannot in truth 
 draw a picture of improbable angel beauty, for Amy 
 was simply a modest-looking, browTi-haired girl, with 
 nothing in her appearance to attract a second glance 
 from a casual observer. She was educated at home 
 by a New England lady who had accompanied the 
 
THE LONE STAR STATE. 9 
 
 family from Tennessee. This lady subsequently mar- 
 ried a lawyer from Brazoria, named Gasting. Though 
 refined, Amy was not accomplished, as the world calls 
 it. She could draw and play a little, and when her 
 heart was full of the beauty around her, she could 
 pour out her feelings in songs for which words were 
 never written and music never set. 
 
 It was the evening before the secession of Texas 
 from the Union, and in the glory of a tropical sky 
 the red sun was sinking behind the woods, canopied 
 by masses of golden and opal clouds that flooded 
 the landscape with varied colors, like the light 
 streaming down from the stained windows of some 
 mighty cathedral. The soft, lulling breeze from the 
 gulf went sighing through the magnolias, scattering 
 the rich incense around, and the plantation bells 
 broke the stillness as they called the -.negroes from 
 their labor in the fields. Amy, with her mother, a 
 fine, matronly-looking lady of forty-five years, was 
 sitting on the wide gallery so peculiar to southern 
 houses. Both mother and daughter looked pale and 
 depressed, and at times the eyes of the girl were 
 turned eagerly toward the long, straight road across 
 the prairie. 
 
 "Mother," said Amy, breaking the long silence, 
 *' I feel sick at heart, and a dread that I cannot give 
 cause for makes me shiver." 
 
 *' I feel as do you, my child," said Mrs. Boardman, 
 moving her chair close to that of her daughter and 
 taking one of the small white hands in hers ; *' I feel 
 as you do, but I can assign no reason for it. To-mor- 
 row the vote of Texas will be cast for secession, and 
 only God knows what will follow. Now, more than 
 
10 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ever, do I miss your father, for I know liow ho would 
 vote were he living." 
 
 **Why, mother, I cannot see the necessity for 
 breaking up the country. I am sure the Yankees 
 have not injured us ; indeed, I quite like the northeni 
 people whom we met in our travels. Why, then, 
 should they desire to break up the country, of which 
 since my childhood I have been so proud, and every- 
 body else should be?" 
 
 "I do not know, Airy/^ wac the reply. "The 
 people are surely crazed, for eveiy man, woman, and 
 child whom I know are crying for secession, and 
 your old teacher from New England, Mrs. Gasting, is 
 louder in her denunciations of the Yankees than any 
 person I am acquainted with." 
 
 The usually calm face of the girl glowed as she 
 said, " Mother, all will not vote for secession ; I 
 would not if I were a man. There is one who is 
 braver and stronger and cooler than are the men in 
 Brazoria, and to-morrow Robert will teach them to 
 do right." 
 
 * ' Men will not be guided by ideas of right, my child. 
 The bowie-knife and revolver will guide the ballot, 
 and Robert would be reckless, in the face of the 
 Knights of the Golden Circle, to oppose them. Bet- 
 ter he should stay away, for I do not think to-mor- 
 row will see the end. His single vote would avail 
 nothing, and his death would cause a world of harm." 
 
 *' Death ! Would they kill him, mother, for being 
 a man ? Oh, I will not let him go ; I cannot lose 
 him. But if I were a man I would vote, in spite of 
 Wharton and every man on the Brazos !" 
 
 ' ' I feel as yjou do, my daughter," said Mrs. Board* 
 
THE LONE STAR STATE. 11 
 
 man, sitting straight in her chair and clasping her 
 hands before her. " But if there be any truth in the 
 papers and letters I receive from the North, the bay- 
 onets of the Union will be used against the ballots of 
 secession. Let Robert reserve himself for that." 
 
 She had scarcely concluded her sentence when two 
 mounted men came galloping up the avenue of live 
 oaks leading to the house. They rode small, w^iry 
 mustangs, accoutered in the regular Mexican style, 
 and sat their horses with that easy grace which can 
 only be acquired by a life in the saddle. Riding 
 close to the hou?e, both men dismounted, and they 
 were certainly fine specimens of their respective 
 races. The one was a pure Caucasian, about twenty- 
 five years of age, standing nearly six feet in height, 
 and with that ease of carriage which denotes great 
 strength and powers of endurance. His hair was 
 straight and black, his bronzed face strong and ex- 
 pressive rather than handsome, while his warm, gi-ey 
 eyes seemed full of that strange light which a shade 
 would turn to dancing smiles or burning anger. The 
 other was a negro, who, on dismounting, took the 
 bridle from his master, and as he stood with a hand 
 on the reins of both horses he could pass for a statue 
 of Hercules cut in ebony. He was over thirty, and 
 taller than his master ; but being heavier, the dif- 
 ference would seem at first the other way. His skin 
 v,^as jet black, and his features full, yet well-pro- 
 portioned. As he took off his hat to salute the la- 
 dies, his thick, woolly hair could be seen curling 
 around a head that would prove a study to the phren- 
 ologist, for, while the forehead was broad and promi- 
 nent, the rest of the head looked like a black globe. 
 
IJ WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 >^ the young white man bounded up the steps he 
 was met by Mrs. Boardman and her daughter with 
 a Tranuth that showed more than ordinary interest. 
 Throwing oiT his broad-brimmed sombrero, he ar- 
 mpg'ed seats for the ladies, and, taking one for him- 
 self, an expression of pain came into his face, as, 
 after the customary greeting, he said : 
 
 **I have been all along the bottom — at Bell's, 
 Townsend's, Underwood's, and at a score of other 
 places — and I find but few men who are not going to 
 vote for secession to-morrow. The majority, I think, 
 are opposed to it, but the fear of Wharton and his 
 clique deters them." 
 
 "Is it true, Bob ert," asked Aaay, *' that they are 
 going to kill those who do not vote for secession to- 
 morrow?" 
 
 "I do not know; there will certainly be trouble. 
 I saw a card on the court-house in Brazoria, stating 
 that those who vote for Yankee rule must do it in the 
 face of southern steel. I suppose by ' Yankee rule' 
 Is meant in favor of the Union." 
 
 * ' Then all will vote for secession," said Amy. " Oh ! 
 if I were a man !" 
 
 *'If you were. Amy," was his reply, *'what could 
 your single arm do ? You could resist by a vote, and, 
 God giving me strength, I intend to do that.'* 
 
 *'Be careful, Robert," said Mrs. Boardman, gaz- 
 ing at the young man with a look of pride. ' ' Re- 
 member, more will be required of you, or I am 
 mistaken, than mere voting." 
 
 ' ' I know it, Mrs. Boardman ; and if Texas leaves 
 the Union, I am determined to leave for the first 
 rendezvous of Union men, and, if necessary, fight, 
 
THE LONE STAR STATE. 13 
 
 for I am convinced war will follow this mad course 
 of the slave States." 
 
 *'Did you see Henderson Townsend to-day?" asked 
 Amy. Being answered in the negative, she contin- 
 ued : "He was here and poured out a torrent of angry 
 words against the Yankees. I reminded him that 
 both he and his father were bom and lived in Con- 
 necticut till a few years since. He said that did not 
 make him an abolitionist, and then started off mut- 
 tering vengeance against those who vote for Union 
 to-morrow." 
 
 Robert Warren's face was clouded for an instant as 
 he said, ' ' Poor fool, he is true to his instincts." Then, 
 changing his tone, he continued : "It is very strange, 
 but there is not one person of northern birth in this 
 scc^'on who is a slave-owner that is not going to vote 
 tor secession to-morrow." 
 
 ** But there is one southern man," said Amy, with 
 flashing eyes, ' ' and he is a South Carolinian by birth, 
 who hates their actions, and who will oppose them ! 
 Oh, Robert, I do, I do feel proud of you !" 
 
 When strong emotions move the heart, or great 
 dangers surround us, cold etiquette is laid aside, 
 and we stand face to face, with no feelings disguised. 
 No one could look on the animated face of the young 
 girl, as her eyes were turned on Robert Warren, with- 
 out feeling that a deep, pure love for the young pa- 
 triot stirred her heart. But there is a love higher 
 than that which connects the sexes ; a love which 
 forgets all personal considerations when principles are 
 Involved; a love which causes the maiden to part 
 with the adored without a pang of regret; a love 
 which impels the mother to kiss her first-born adi-^u 
 
14 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and send him into the ranks of death ; a love which 
 exchanges wealth and ease and luxury for poverty, 
 hardships, and toil ; a love which elevates man to the 
 dignity of the angels, for it mocks at danger and 
 smiles at death. It is the soul-absorbing love of our 
 fatherland and our country^s flag, and such in all its 
 intensity was the feeling that stirred the heart of Amy 
 Boardman. 
 
 After a few more words, Robert Warren rose to go, 
 promising to return on the following evening and re- 
 port affairs at Brazoria. Then, with tender entreat- 
 ies from Amy, and kind messages to his family from 
 Mrs. Boardman, he and his servant sprang on their 
 horses and were soon galloping over the small arm 
 of prairie which separated Mrs. Boardman's from his 
 father's plantation. 
 
 Archy, for such was the black man's name, broke 
 silence as he slackened the pace of his horse. 
 
 "MaussBobut, is yeh g^vine to de vil'ge to-mor- 
 row, shuah?*' 
 
 "Why do you ask, Archy?" 
 
 ** Coz, if yeh is, sah, I'd like to go, mighty." 
 
 * * But why to-morrow any more than any other day ?" 
 
 **Wall, Mauss Bobut, I dunno. 'Pears tings ain't 
 agoin' right, nohow. Hen Townsend, he's agoin' to be 
 dar, an' he don't like yeh much, I reckon, coz of Miss 
 Amy, an' he tole Watts, his boy, he'd make yeh 
 squirm yet. An' den, Mauss Bobut, dare's Wharton, 
 him and Hen goes togedder, an' dey's agoin' to shoot 
 all wat don't go wid dem," 
 
 Having said this, Archy looked earnestly into his 
 master's face, as if to see the effect of his statements 
 
 *'But, supposing all this to be true, and they were 
 
THE LONE STAR STATE. 15 
 
 going to shoot me, Archy, what good could you do?" 
 The eyes of the black man widened till the whites 
 
 were visible around them, and, straightening himself 
 
 up in the stirrups, he said : 
 
 "Mauss Robut, yeh knows I ain't skeery ; yeh 
 
 knows I kin shoot, an' den, Mauss Robut, if dey kills 
 
 yeh, I don't want to lib nohow. Dey kin shoot me 
 
 fust. Do let me go, mauss," and the last words were 
 
 uttered in the most appealing tones. 
 
 "I will see about it in the morning, Archy," said 
 
 his master as he threw him the bridle rein and strode 
 
 hastily into the house, which by this time they had 
 
 reached. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 AT THE POLLS. 
 
 Brazoria is very pleasantly situated on the Bra- 
 zos River, and had in 1861 about one thousand inhab- 
 itants. Around it is the largest sugar and cotton 
 portion of the State, and consequently it had the 
 largest slave population. 
 
 Early on the morning of February 23, 1861, scores 
 of stalwart horsemen, armed to the teeth, could be 
 seen moving in on the different roads, and dismount- 
 ing to fasten their horses to the racks around the 
 white frame com-t-house, in the center of the town. 
 Each rider carried a heavy whip or "quirt," in addi- 
 tion to his ponderous, jingling spurs. About the 
 principal tavern the men crowded, where liquor was 
 provided in abundance by some of the wealthy men 
 of the town. It was noticeable to see the groups 
 of anxious-looking faces, the majority in the prime 
 of life, and it was rare to see one whose form did not 
 denote great strength and activity. The dress was 
 more uniform than is ever seen outside of regularly- 
 dressed organizations. Long boots with the pants 
 inside, belts with pistols and knife protruding beyond 
 the short-cut jackets, shirts open at the neck, witJ* 
 
AT THE POLLS. 17 
 
 loose sailor ties, and stift'Mexican sombreros, or broad- 
 brimmed, slouched felt hats, tmned up with a defiant 
 air in front, was the usual costume. With few excep- 
 tions, their faces were heavily bearded, and the hair 
 worn in long masses down to the shoulders. There 
 was but little intelligence in the group of animal faces. 
 They were indicative of strong machines, that would 
 move with effect if the power were applied, and fur- 
 nished. They could follow, not lead, and to such 
 men the words of those they followed were oracular. 
 
 As each emerged from the room, rough jokes and 
 loud laughter greeted him, or the oft-repeated query, 
 **Say, what' 11 yeh take fer yer boss? I'm goin' to 
 raise a cavalry company to fight the d — d abolition- 
 ists?" 
 
 Often the new-comer would be greeted with the 
 question, " Say, how are you going to vote to-day?" 
 and invariably the reply came back and was greeted 
 with wild cheers, "For secession," or "Against the 
 infernal Yankees I " 
 
 One of these last arrivals was a young man who 
 
 might pass for any age between twenty-five and fifty. 
 
 He was long, and cadaverous-looking, with thin, 
 
 reddish beard and watery blue eyes. Fastening his 
 
 horse, he entered the bar-room, and, sitting on the 
 
 counter so as to face the crowd, he appeared to slide 
 
 into himself like a telescope, the bent, thick body 
 
 presenting a queer contrast to the long, thin legs. 
 
 Turning to the hard-worked bar-tender, he asked for a 
 
 glass of whisky, which, being provided, he held 
 
 out at arm's length, and in a cracked and somewhat 
 
 nasal tone said : 
 
 2* 
 
18 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 **Fels, Pve a toast to propose, and cuss him what 
 don't drink it !" 
 
 "Let's have it, Hen !" "Hurrah!" "Go in, ole 
 boy ! " were the greetings that met his announcement. 
 
 "Here's success to secession, an' a bullet for every 
 feller that casts a ballot agin' it." 
 
 A loud cheer went up from the crowd, and a 
 swarthy giant, who drank the toast in a tumbler of 
 raw whisky, wiped his lips with his coat-sleeve, and^ 
 striking the man addressed as " Hen " on the shoulder 
 with his open hand, he shouted out, "I'd like ter see 
 the chap what objects to them 'ere sentiments." 
 
 "Well, then," said Henderson Townsend, who by 
 this time had stepped to the door, " if yeh look down 
 the street ye' 11 see one. There comes Bob Warren, 
 and I'll bet a thousand dollars to a quirt that he 
 votes agin' us. Why, he's gone plumb over to the 
 abolitionists." 
 
 A hoarse din of threats followed this announcement, 
 but it gradually sank into a murmur as the object of 
 To^vnsend's remark drew near, and into silence as 
 he dismounted before the tavern and fastened his 
 horse to the commodious rack. 
 
 " Come in an' drink, Warren," said Townsend, 
 "come in' an di'ink; Wharton's stood a big treat 
 to-day." 
 
 " I thank you, sir," said Warren, "but I do not wish 
 to drink." 
 
 " What, not drink success to our cause?" 
 
 " I do not know you or your cause, sir," said Warren 
 as he passed into the building. Going up stairs, he 
 knocked at a door with a peculiar rap, and was 
 admitted into a room where five men were sitting 
 
AT THE POLLS. 19 
 
 around a small table. Their faces had a troubled 
 look, but there was an intelligence and determination 
 stamped on each, in striking contrast with the crowd 
 of fierce faces outside. 
 
 " Mr. Williams, I am glad to see you and the rest 
 of our friends here," said Robert Warren, as he took 
 a chair. " If I mistake not, there is dangerous duty 
 before us to-day." 
 
 " True, Mr. Warren," said the gentleman addressed 
 as Williams, "but we must undertake it like men. 
 Wharton's party, I understand, intend surrounding 
 the polls, and they swear to shoot every man voting 
 against secession. We cannot resist them by force, 
 but by a calm and detemiined demand for the right 
 of voting as we choose, I think we can succeed. 
 This threat ^vill deter many from voting with us who 
 I am certain are opposed to disunion. Let us hope 
 that seeing our course they may take courage and 
 rally around us." 
 
 Agi'eeiiig to return to the room again before voting, 
 the little party descended and mingled with the crowd* 
 
 About nme o'clock a tall, middle-aged man, with 
 light hair, and full, reddish beard, rode up to the 
 ta;k^ern, accompanied by a servant. He was greeted 
 with loud cheers, which he acknowledged by remov- 
 ing his hat and bowing. There could be seen the 
 broad, white forehead, and deep blue eyes, which, in 
 connection with his straight nose and thin, firm lips> 
 bespoke the man of power. On dismounting he was 
 surrounded by the crowd, each anxious to grasp his 
 hand, and he blended with them without being one 
 of them. His name will live as that of an able, 
 brave, misguided man, John Wharton, leader of the 
 
20 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Texas Rangers in the war against liis country. 
 
 After conversing with a group of the more intelli- 
 gent men for some time, it was decided before 
 opening the polls to hold a meeting in the court- 
 house, over which the Stars and Stripes were then 
 floating. This intention was announced, and the 
 building was soon packed to its utmost capacity, and 
 scores of faces peered in through the windows and 
 doors. Wharton, amid great applause, was conducted 
 to the judge's chair, before which as a lawyer he had 
 often pleaded. After the formality of electing proper 
 officers to conduct the meeting, " Colonel " Wharton 
 was introduced, and advanced to the desk with 
 apparent embarrassment. 
 
 "Fellow Texans,'* he began, *'we have assembled 
 in Erazoria to-day to decide, so far as we are con- 
 cerned, one of the most important questions ever sub- 
 mitted to any people — that of being an independent 
 South, or a servile collection, of States, 'neath the 
 crushing heel of a despot. When we threw off the 
 yoke of Mexico we were glad and proud, after a short 
 period of national independence, to link our fate with 
 what was then the great United States — great no lon- 
 ger in the esteem of free men. Once this land was 
 governed by true patriots, who had the interest of 
 the whole country at heart ; now the power is \\Test- 
 ed from their keeping, and in their places stand not 
 our rulers, but tyrants — men who would rob us of our 
 property, free oiu- slaves, and place them on an equal- 
 ity with us, with you, my countrymen ! Yes, and urge 
 this evil on till the negroes who now work in our fields 
 become aspirants for the hands of our sisters and 
 our daughters! Are you willing that this thing 
 
AT THE POLLS. 21 
 
 should be? Will you lie passive while the chains 
 are being forged to enslave you ? And will you still 
 cling close like cowards to what is not the govern- 
 ment of your choice?" 
 
 *'No! no!" "Never! never?" rang through the 
 building, and faces began to flush, while the eyes of 
 the excited mob glared like those of wild beasts. 
 
 *'I rejoice to hear you say *No!' " he continued, 
 "but where can we find a remedy for this evil which 
 threatens us? It is not to be purchased from our 
 abolition rulers. We cannot become exiles and seek 
 freedom in other lands. We hold the power in our 
 own hands, and woe be to us if we use it not. By 
 this I do not mean that we are to go out to battle, 
 for if Texas acts as she should to-day, there will be 
 no foe to battle with. Already five of our sister States 
 have gone out, and from their happy eminence beckon 
 us to follow. 
 
 * ' Are you ready, are you willing to go ?" * ' We 
 are, we are!" came in thundering response. "Then 
 if you are, let your votes corroborate your words, and 
 should the cowardly negro-stealers of the North retard 
 our efforts in going out, or our peace in remaining out 
 of such a Union, so help me God, I will be one 
 of a hundred thousand Texan rangers to spring to 
 the rescue of the 'Lone Star' State ! With fire and 
 sword we will sweep down on the homes of the fanat- 
 ical Puritans and wring from their black hearts retri- 
 bution for our many wrongs and indignities. But I 
 fear no war. Mark my words, we will depart in peace. 
 Every slave State will follow us, and we vrill build us 
 up a model nation, where the white and the black man 
 will be protected, and each occupy the position God 
 
22 WARREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 intend sd him for. A nation that can and will carry 
 out the principles for which our forefathers bled, a 
 nation that all can love, and whose emblem I now 
 show you — " 
 
 Saying this, he unfurled a rich flag with three par- 
 allel bars, red, white and red, and on the blue square 
 of the upper left, the *'lone star" of Texas. Cheer 
 after cheer greeted this emblem of a shadowy nation- 
 ality. 
 
 "If," said "Wharton, raisins^ his voice to its hidi- 
 est pitch, " this flag is your choice, haul dow^n from, 
 above your head, where now it floats, the flaimting 
 banner of infamy, and give the banner of liberty 
 and a united South to the winds of Texas !" 
 
 The climax was reached. Through the open win- 
 dows and doors the maddened mob pounced out, and 
 two of the most active were quickly on the roof pulling 
 down, the flag. As soon as it reached their gi-asp it 
 was torn from the halliards and tlirowm to the crowd 
 beneath. While the "stars and bars" were being 
 hoisted, the Stars and Stripes were torn to shreds with 
 drunken rage and trampled in the dust. 
 
 A group of anxious-looking men, at a distance* 
 watched this scene. Not a word was spoken, nor did 
 any of the number stir, till "Colonel" Wharcon 
 shouted out, "To the polls!" and the crowd surged- 
 tow^ard the tavern. After all had gone, Robert War 
 ren advanced, and, gathering the tattered remnants of 
 the flag, hurriedly placed them in his breast, and 
 then with his friends returned to the room in the 
 tavern, w^iicli they had left to attend the meeting. 
 After closing the door, Mr. Williams, with a pale face 
 and in smothered accents, began ; 
 
AT THE POLLS. 23 
 
 "Friends, we should have expected this. The mob 
 is perfectly frantic. We are here and cannot escape 
 voting, though it is useless. Let us wait till Whar- 
 ton's party is scattered, then go forward and do our 
 duty." 
 
 He ceased, and silence, broken only by the heavy 
 breathing of the men, reigned in the apartment. 
 
 After some minutes, Kobert Warren pulled out the 
 tattered colors, and, gazing on them with a burning 
 look, said : 
 
 " Had I been told yesterday that I would standby 
 and see this flag hauled down and trampled in the 
 dust, I would have pronounced the assertion false. 
 Yet to-day I saw it, and did not resist. Here is one 
 star untom— let it be to us the emblem of hope. Rise, 
 every man here, few though we be, and Iny his hands 
 on these shreds ! " All did as he desired. "Now 
 swear with me," he continued, "that come what may, 
 though property be sacrificed and homes smTendered, 
 we will be faithful till death to this flag, nor rest till 
 it returns again to the Brazos." 
 
 The hands were raised and each reponded, **I 
 swear." 4 
 
 In heaven that oath was registered with the sons 
 of the martjTs and approved by Him who presides 
 over the destmies of nations. 
 
 About five o'clock in the afternoon the voting, 
 which had all gone one way, was nearly finished, and 
 Robert Warren, followed by his party, advanced to 
 the polls. He was met by Tow^isend, who handed 
 him a ballot, and he replied by tearing it up, saying, 
 *'I have one of my own." 
 
 "Let me see it," asked Townsend in a rude voice. 
 
24 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert "Warren did so, when Townsend glanced at it, 
 then tearing it in pieces, with a savage oath shouted 
 out: "Warren an' his party is goin' to vote agin 
 us ! Who' 11 Stan' by an' see it done ?" 
 
 The Intoxicated by-standers, with angry menaces, 
 drew near, and more than one knife was unsheathed. 
 WaiTen coolly looked over the crowd, and in a clear, 
 strong voice said : 
 
 "The man who says I am going to vote against my 
 country, or in favor of abolition, lies. But before I can 
 vote for secession I want first to see where we have been 
 wronged. I have negi'oes, as many as any of you ; I 
 am a southern man by birth and interests ; but I owe 
 allegiance to the whole country and not a part, and 
 for that whole country I am going to vote. If you 
 prevent me, why, then, have the formality of voting?" 
 
 Warren moved toward the polls, but To\Misend 
 stepped before him, and with an oath said : 
 
 "Not so fast sir, yeh votes here when yeh votes 
 right— not till then !" 
 
 "Stand aside, Townsend !" commanded Warren, 
 his grey eyes turning black with anger ; "I wish no 
 quarrel, but am determined." Turaing to the crowd 
 he hurriedly addressed them : " I appeal to every man 
 here — for you all know me — is there a stain on my 
 good name ? Did you ever know me to do aught an 
 honest man would blush for? Can you say as much for 
 this wretch, who pushes himself forward as the repre- 
 sentative of better men ? You know I am honest in 
 my actions. Now, Townsend, stand aside !" 
 
 Warren stepped forward, but a violent push sent 
 him staggering back among the crowd. 
 
 He recovered m an instant, and with a spring like 
 
AT THE POLLS. 25 
 
 a tiger-cat, and a blow that sounded like the discharge 
 of a pistol, Townsend was thrown senseless to the 
 ground, and Warren, with his friends, stepped forward 
 to deposit their ballots, which, as tln-oughout the 
 State and throughout the South, were not counted, 
 for they were against secession. After voting, the 
 Union men retraced their steps through the crowd in 
 the direction of their horses, but found to their sur- 
 prise the animals were gone, and could not be found. 
 After a fruitless search, Warren inquired from the 
 bystanders if they had seen the horses moved, but he 
 received in reply only black looks and muttered 
 threats that "He and his damned pack would soon 
 learn all about it," 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 WAYLAID. 
 
 After a vain attempt to find their horses, the little 
 body of Union men determined to walk home — first, 
 however, agreeing to meet at the plantation of Mr. 
 "Warren on the following morning. 
 
 Eobert had about five miles to walk, but the greater 
 part of the road lay tlirough the densely wooded bot- 
 tom-land between Brazoria and Gronzelletta. South- 
 ern men before the war were unaccustomed to trav- 
 eling on foot, particularly the Texans, who often rode 
 over distances where it would be less of a physical 
 exertion to walk than to saddle a horse. As Robert 
 "Warren hurried westward along this forest road, he 
 wondered at the strange circumstance of all their 
 horses being taken, and felt there was more in it than 
 the spiteful tripk of a few drunken rowdies. He re- 
 gretted that he had not invited his friends home with 
 him, where they could procure a remount, as they 
 had all further to walk than himself, though not in 
 the same direction. Looking carefully about as he 
 hastened on, and peering cautiously into the jungle, 
 he had passed over one-half the distance between 
 Brazoria and his home, when, turning a sharp bend 
 
WAYLAID. 27 
 
 in the road, he heard the crack of a rifle and at the 
 same instant felt a burning sensation along the top of 
 his head, and a feeling of blind giddiness overcame 
 him. He staggered and fell to the ground, and be- 
 fore he could recover, three men rushed from the 
 woods and sprang upon him. A blow was aimed at 
 his head, but through the blood that streamed over 
 his face he saw it descending, and, summoning all 
 his strength, he leaped to his feet to see before him 
 Henderson Townsend, with a look of fiendish hate on 
 his brutal face. 
 
 "Kill the infernal abolitionist!" shouted Town- 
 send, striking with a long knife at the wounded man . 
 All three rushed again upon Warren, and, before he 
 could draw his pistol, he was a second time brought 
 to the ground, and one of the assassins, with a raised 
 knife, sprang upon him. He could see the cold gleam 
 above him, as the murderer's arm was extended to 
 give fatal force to the blow, and Warren closed his 
 eyes. It was but an instant, when a yell, that thrilled 
 the prostrate man into life, arrested the descending 
 arm, and the next moment the blood of the would- 
 be murderer was dashed, by a powerful blow from 
 behind, over the intended victim. Another blow, 
 quick as lightning, and a second man fell. Town- 
 send turned on the new-comer, but his arm became 
 palsied and his knees shook as he saw before him the 
 towering form of Archy. The wide nostrils were 
 dilated, the white teeth gleamed through the open 
 lips, and a look of heroic manhood transformed the 
 negi'o into the master of the cowering white man. 
 
 Before Robert Warren could rise, the strong black 
 hand was clutched around the throat of Townsend, 
 
28 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and, blackening in the face, tlie white man wilted and 
 fell ; but the grasp was not relaxed. A few seconds 
 and life would have been extinct, had not Robert 
 WaiTcn rose and released the hold of his servant. 
 
 "Stop, Archy ! God bless you, my brave boy I you 
 have saved me ; you have done enough !" 
 
 *'Bress de Lor', Mauss Eobut, yeh's 'live !" said 
 Archy, clasping in his strong arms the form of his 
 master. Then he fairly sobbed, " Teh's bleedin', oh, 
 poor Mauss Robut ! But let me 'lone, dey'll kill me 
 for dis, an' I'll have something to hang for." Saying 
 this, he moved toward Townsend, but his master 
 stopped him by interposing between him and the 
 trembling wretch. 
 
 "Well, you cringing hound," said Warren, address- 
 ing Townsend, *' you did not succeed in your murder- 
 ous undertaking, thanks to this brave boy ! I now 
 know who stole our horses, and what they were stolen 
 for." 
 
 "Wall," whined Townsend, *'we hid 'em. Whar- 
 ton told us to. But you'll pay for this ; you'll swing 
 for a killin' of these fellers," and he pointed to the 
 bleeding forms before him. 
 
 "You know you lie, when you say Wharton di- 
 rected this — with all his faults, he is brave and 
 honorable. But, as you threaten me, I think it 
 prudent to complete this job." So saying, Robert 
 Warren cocked his pistol and placed it against Town- 
 send's bead. The craven fell on his knees, and, in a 
 whining supplication, called, *'0h, don't! don't, Mr. 
 Warren ! It was all a drunken spree, and we didn't 
 mean to do any harm.'* 
 
 *'Iwas only trying your mettle, Townsend," said 
 
WAYLAID. 29 
 
 Warren, as he replaced his pistol. *' Now I will leave 
 you to care for your friends ; and if we ever meet 
 again with weapons drawn, your lies and supplications 
 will not save you." 
 
 Leaving Townsend, with one of his companions 
 dead and the other severely wounded, Robert Warren 
 and his servant hurried along the forest road, now 
 rapidly growing indistinct. The sun had set, and 
 dense masses of black clouds came sweeping up from 
 the Gulf, deepening the shadows on the road. When 
 they emerged from the woods, on the edge of the 
 prairie stretching to Gonzelletta, they found thousands 
 of cattle and deer running to the bottom for shelter 
 from the storm, which instinct told them would soon 
 burst over the plain. 
 
 Robert released his hold of the black man's arm, 
 and stood with uncovered head, while the cooling 
 wind came, grateful to burning forehead and throbbing 
 temples. Archy saw the dejected look of his master, 
 and asked, anxiously : 
 
 **Is yeh sick, Mauss Robut? Coz, iv yeh is, I'll go 
 ahead to de ranche an' fotch yeh a boss ; or, Mauss 
 Robut, I'll tote yeh home like a chile." As Archy 
 spoke the last words, he held out his strong arms, as 
 if to lift his young master. 
 
 " No, Archy, I feel strong enough, but I am troubled. 
 This affair with Townsend will get wind before two 
 hours, and the whole settlement will be armed against 
 us, and should they catch either of us, I am afraid, 
 Archy, we would not bring a big price next day, ex- 
 cept for the dissecting table." Robert Warren tried 
 to smile at his own v/ords. 
 
 " I Imowsdat, Mauss Robut," said Archy; "Iknows 
 3 + 
 
80 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 dey*d hang us, sliiiah, but I'se ready. I'd a wanted 
 to die long 'go iv I'd any odder mausser, praise de 
 Lor*; but ole mauss an' you ain't like white folks; 
 yeh's like angels. Dis mornin' I couldn't stay at de 
 house, fur I know'd dey'd be trouble in de town. So 
 I stoled off, an' all day I looked fur yeh, as I hid by 
 de road in de chaparral, [thicket. ] An' when I seed 
 you comin' I wuz mighty glad, an' kep' dark in de 
 woods. Oh, Mauss Robut, I tanks de good Lor' I'se 
 been de way to save yeh." 
 
 "Yes, I must acknowledge you understood matters 
 yesterday better than I did, Archy, though it looks 
 as if you had only postponed my death a few hours." 
 
 During the conversation the men resumed their 
 journey, and as they neared Mr. Warren's plantation 
 an idea of some weight seemed to strike Archy, for 
 he took his master's arm, that rested on his, in both 
 his hands, and said : "I kin fix it, Mauss Robut, I 
 kin fix it ; an' iv I dies, won't yeh take good care of 
 Susy and de pickaninnies ?" 
 
 The deep breast of the black man heaved as he 
 looked on the dejected form of his master, and in a 
 tone soft and gentle as a woman's, he continued : 
 
 ^' Don't trouble, Mauss Robut. Eberyting'll come 
 right bimeby. Nobody '11 b'lieve Hen Townsend, an' 
 den I'll say 'twasn't you ; I'll say I did it, an' I won't 
 lie, nudder." 
 
 ''Stop Archy! Don't talk in that way. The men 
 who injure you for w^hat you have done must do it 
 after I am helpless. I have made up my mind, 
 Archy. "We must not remain here, not even to-night. 
 We must start north for Kentucky, and wlteu there, 
 Archy, I'll make you a freeman. You can hp. your 
 own master." 
 
WAYLAID. 31 
 
 **Mau5s Robut, I ain't done nothin' dat you want 
 me to lebe yeh ? I don't want no mausser but you !'* 
 
 "Well, Archy, I don't mean that by being free you 
 must leave me ; you can be with me as you are now. 
 I think, Archy, if I get away safely, that I will be a 
 soldier, and fight till we bring the old flag back to 
 the Brazos." 
 
 Poor Archy, he had none of his master's patriotic 
 ardor. Why should he ? All flags were alike to him. 
 
 Yet when his master had ceased speaking, tears 
 were streaming down the honest black face. They 
 were not forced by sorrow or pain, but rose from the 
 great warm heart, the expression of a love that few 
 but the angels feel. 
 
 By the time they had reached Mr. Warren's house 
 the night was pitchy black. The w^ind had calmed 
 down, and an ominous stillness reigned over forest 
 and plain. It lasted but a few minutes — then the 
 pent-up storm burst over the land with a fury unknown 
 to colder latitudes. Rapid flashes of lightning for 
 a moment illuminated the broad, lifeless prairie, and 
 then, as if all the parks of heaven's artillery were 
 opened, the deep thunder shook the earth. A few 
 seconds of a rushing sound, and in torrents the rain 
 poured to the earth. The harmony of the elements, 
 like the laws of the nation, seemed broken. It looked 
 as if the land were draped in mourning for the coun- 
 try's death. 
 
 It was on such a night the Egyptians sank to peaceful 
 rest, strong, prosperous, and happy — the youth to 
 dream of coming glory, the old man to think of easy 
 age, the maiden to sigh in her very happiness, the 
 babe to slumber in childish innocence. But for one 
 
32 WAREEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 instant in the dark night '* a shadowy flash was seen.' 
 The death angel breathed on the first-born slumbering 
 in life ; then the red lips paled, the breast heaved 
 once, and the eyelids tightened for the sleep of death. 
 So, deluded sunny South, it was with thee. Thy 
 future shone bright and prosperous, while visions of 
 power and glory flushed thy youths, and gave vigor to 
 thy old men. Thy maidens twined chaplets for their 
 warrior lovers, and poets sang the praises of thy 
 da^vning greatness. But the night went by, and the 
 morning brought wailing for thy first-born. Thy 
 strong men fill the grave and thy daughters are clad 
 in sable garb. In the Red Sea thy armies have 
 perished, and from the opposite bank hosannas re- 
 sound from the free — made so by thy acts — ^yet sing- 
 ing no glad song in thy praise. 
 
CniPTER IV. 
 
 TilE PAELOR AND THE CABIN. 
 
 On Opening the door, Robert Warren was met by 
 his only sister, Mary, a young lady of twenty, who 
 screamed on seeing the blood-covered features and 
 torn clothing of her brother. He quieted her, beg- 
 ging her not to mention it to his father and mother, 
 and assuring her that a wash would set him all right. 
 He went directly to his room, and, after bathing, 
 found that he had a painful, but by no means danger- 
 ous, scalp wound on the right side of his head. 
 Having changed his clothing, he took down from a 
 peg in his room a pair of handsome Mexican saddle- 
 bags, and filled them with such articles as he would 
 need on his contemplated journey. Unlocking a 
 drawer in his dressing-stand, he took from it an ivory- 
 cased miniature, which he opened, and, removing the 
 cm-l of brown hair twined above the picture, his face 
 softened as he gazed for a few moments on the por. 
 trait of Amy Boardman. Then he replaced the curl 
 and deposited the case in his breast pocket. Picking 
 up the torn, blood-stained coat which he had taken 
 off, he took from one of the pockets the roll of red, 
 white, and blue rags that had once been the flag of 
 
34 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the stars, and as he carefully placed them in the 
 pocket with the picture his lips grew firmer and an 
 expression of age came over his face. He next took 
 down from the mantel-piece, over which it hung, a 
 short, silver-mounted rifle, and fastened about his 
 waist a belt containing two pistols, cap and cartridge- 
 boxes, besides a scabbard, from which protruded the 
 silver handle of a Mexican hunting-knife. Having 
 prepared everything so as to be ready to start in a 
 moment, Robert Warren descended to the supper 
 room, where his father, mother, and sister were 
 awaiting him. 
 
 Mrs. Warren was very pale, and evidently agitated 
 as she heard her son's steps, for she met him at the 
 door and was clasped in his strong arms. 
 
 *'My boy ! my darling boy !" she exclaimed, "they 
 tried to kill you, I know they tried to kill you, my 
 brave, brave boy !" 
 
 " Sit down, mother," he said, kissing her and gently 
 placing her in a chair, "I will tell you all about it 
 directly." Then he went over to the great chair in 
 which his invalid father was sitting, and he did what 
 few men of his years do now-a-days, he kissed the 
 grey-bearded face of his father, turned up to his with 
 a look of pride and tenderness. Then, placing his 
 arm about his sister, in a cheerful tone he briefly 
 related to his anxious little audience the incidents of 
 the day. 
 
 After supper he showed them the remnants of the 
 flag, remarking to his agitated father, "Never mind, 
 father, I will sew all these tatters on the new flag that 
 you and I will hoist in Brazoria some day." 
 
 ,Mr. ♦y«vren, though scarcely able to move, rose to 
 
THE PARLOR AND THE CABIN-. 36 
 
 his feet, and walking nervously across the room came 
 back and took a seat beside his son. 
 
 "Robert," he began, "you must leave here, and 
 that this very night ; for, even while I speak, Town- 
 send may be setting the blood-hoimds on your track. 
 You must go to Kentucky. I am sure that good old 
 State will be true to the Union. Your Uncle Louis 
 will be a father to you. If there should be a war, 
 Bobert — and it looks like it — ^I need not advise your 
 course. You will do what I would were I young 
 again, that is, join the first military organization you 
 meet on the right side." 
 
 ** I am glad to hear you talk so, father, for while 
 coming home I formed a plan like that you have 
 marked out. And I feel," he continued, placing his 
 hand fondly ou his father's, "that it will not be many 
 months before you see me back again." 
 
 "It may be long months, or even years, my boy, 
 for the South is strong and armed ; but there is a 
 God, and right will not be overcome." 
 
 " Of that I am certain, father, and were I assured 
 of the welfare of the family, my greatest care would 
 be removed." 
 
 "You need not fret about us, my son. I am old 
 and weak, to be sure, but more exercise may make 
 me strong again. I can manage the plantation, and 
 oiu- new overseer appears to be a first-rate man. The 
 hands are faithful ; you know yourself we never 
 had one take to the bottom. And then the prospect for 
 plentiful crops is good ; so that I will get on finely. You 
 must take Archy along with you, and the two English 
 horses, and let the boy have a rifle, for if a necessity 
 arises, he can use it as well as any man on the prairie." 
 
36 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 *'I shall do so, father ; but I fear that when I am 
 gone Wharton's party may be enraged at my flight, 
 and wreak their spite on you." 
 
 "Do not be alarmed about that, Robert. Desper- 
 ate and unprincipled as I know many of them to be, 
 I am sure they would not harm me. They have al 
 ways treated me with respect. You know we all voted 
 for that noble man, Breckinridge, last fall." 
 
 "True, father; but if I mistake not you will find 
 this storm of secession has changed their natures. 
 Why, even the ladies to-day seemed drunk with 
 excitement, and blended with the crowd, displaying 
 the secession badges they wore on their breasts." 
 
 "How did Frank Addison vote?'* asked Mary, with 
 an apparent effort. 
 
 Robert looked sadly at her, and replied, as he drew 
 her closer to his side, "I do not think Frank Addison 
 is worthy of your love, my little sister. Try and 
 think no more of him for the present.'* 
 
 " What, brother Robert, do you mean to tell me 
 that Frank Addison voted for secession? Oh, no, 
 Robert, that cannot be ; two days since he promised 
 me he would not." 
 
 "I am sorry to pain you more, dear Mary, but Ad- 
 dison's was the hand that pulled down the Stars and 
 Stripes from the court-house, and it was he who helped 
 to trample the flag in the dust." 
 
 The young girl leaned back in her chair, apparently 
 overcome. The cold sweat stood in beads on her 
 w^hite forehead, and her lips grew ashy pale. Robert 
 was alarmed, and hastily placed some water to her 
 lips. At the same time Mrs. Warren came to her 
 aid, and ^^ith a mother's kind words tried to cheer 
 
THE PAKLOR AND THE CABIN. 37 
 
 lier. A few Hiinutes of silence, and Mary rose with 
 her hand to her heart, and said, in a supplicating 
 tone : 
 
 " Oh, my mother ! my brother ! do not ask me to 
 believe this terrible thing all at once." 
 
 Then she sat down beside her mother and laid her 
 head on the breast where she ever found comfort. 
 The pure, young heart had experienced its first stun- 
 ning blow, and she closed her eyes, as if closing out 
 the world might make the sorrow seem a dream. 
 
 At this juncture a servant entered the room, and 
 Mr. Warren ordered him to tell Archy to come to the 
 house. 
 
 At the same time Mrs. Warren exclaimed, as she 
 gently untwined her arms from about her daughter, 
 "My poor boy, I have wholly overlooked your wound 
 in our other sorrows. Why did you not mention it?" 
 « The very fact that I did not, mother, shows how 
 trifling it is." 
 
 Mary rose suddenly at this, and, with her old voice 
 and manner, started to assist her mother in removing 
 the hair and plastering the wound, an operation that 
 required nerve. But tenderer hands never dressed a 
 more uncomplaining patient. In the meantime Archy 
 had come in, and, hat in hand, stood respectfully at 
 the door, while he asked Mr. Warren : ♦' Did yeh sen 
 fur me, Mauss Bob ? " 
 
 "Yes, Archy," said Mr. Warren, turning toward 
 him, " I want to speak to you on a subject of import- 
 ance." 
 
 Mrs. Warren and Mary heard the black man's voice, 
 and they hastened to thank him for his heroic cod- 
 duct. 
 
38 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 He replied : " De good Lor' knows, anybody'd 
 a' done dat fur iMauss Robut ; but I am sartin glad I 
 was dar." 
 
 Mr. Warren continued : " Archy, you know the 
 danger Master Robert and yourself are in. I feel it 
 would bt neither wise nor safe for either of you to 
 remain here another day. You must accompany your 
 young master, and when you get North he will make 
 you free, and when the trouble is over I will send you 
 your wife and children. You deserve all, Archy." 
 
 The last words were intended to compliment Archy, 
 but he did not see it in that light, for, with some 
 feeling, he said : 
 
 '* Why is yeh talkin' 'bout freedom, Mauss Robut? 
 I ain't dun nothin' ; tole Mauss Robut so. I does'nt 
 want to be free. I'll go wid Mauss Robut, and I 
 won't lebe him till I die, praise de Lor' ! But, maus- 
 S3r, while I's gone^ won't you take car' ob Susey an' 
 de pickaninnies?" 
 
 " Indeed I will, Archy. I give you my word that 
 they will be well guarded till you return or meet 
 them again. And now I want you to get ready for 
 a long ride. Saddle the two English horses at once. 
 Put on the best gear, and you must take my rifle and 
 hunting-belt ; you will find them hanging up in my 
 room. You may have to use them, Archy ; and, in 
 that event, I know you will use them well. Here, 
 also, are two hundred dollars in gold ; you may need 
 it if you and your master Robert should get sepa- 
 rated." 
 
 Archy took the purse, and then reached out his 
 broad, black hand to his master, which the latter 
 clasped. 
 
THE PARLOR AND THE CABIN. 39 
 
 **Mauss Bob, I'll take de rifle, an' I'll only use it 
 to help Mauss Eobut. I'll stan' by 'im foreber. I 
 trus' in God to come back agin', mausser, for- He 
 tembers de shorn lamb to de storm." 
 
 So saying, Archy passed out of the room, where as 
 a boy he had often waited on the plate of his young 
 master. 
 
 After Robert's wound had been dressed, he went 
 to the door and looked out at the black night. The 
 rain still poured down in torrents, and he was about 
 to close the door, when he heard the rapid galloping 
 of a horse across the bridge a hundred yards from 
 the house. This was followed by a shout from the 
 rider, and in a few seconds he was at the door. 
 Throwing himself from his horse, wet and covered 
 with mud, he sprang up the steps and into the house, 
 when, without speaking a word, he slammed the door 
 shut. 
 
 "What! you, G-aines?" said Robert, in astonish- 
 ment, as he gazed on the dripping horseman. 
 
 "Yes, me, and only me. I am the only one of 
 our party left. They were all waylaid and murdered. 
 I was fired at, but escaped through the bottom. I 
 found Townsend's horse in the w^oods, and I have 
 ridden here to give the alarm. Indeed, I feared you 
 were killed, and am glad to find you all right." 
 
 "They attempted it," said Robert, "and but for 
 Archy, they would have succeeded. But come to my 
 room and change your clothes, for you must be half 
 drowned, and after you have had a warm supper we 
 can have a full conversation." 
 
 "I will do so, Robert ; but there is little time for 
 talking. If we wish to continue this life, why, the 
 
40 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 sooner we are in the saddle the better — though 
 Heaven only knows where we are to fly to in this 
 d d State." 
 
 " That I have determined to do. But come to my 
 room and dress. Why, you are trembling with cold 
 and excitement.'* 
 
 Reaching the room, and while changing his clothes, 
 Gaines told Robert that a German, named Muth, of 
 their party, was hanged on the Colorado road ; that 
 Mr. "Williams was shot through the heart, and the 
 other two were killed going towards Columbia. This 
 he learned from some men who passed him in the 
 dark. They also said that three negroes had killed 
 some of the "knights," and then taken to the 
 bottom. 
 
 "That," said Robert, "is evidently my affair, of 
 which I told you. Archy killed Sam Jackson, but it 
 was ta save my life." 
 
 "Well," continued Gaines, " that was not all. I 
 heard them swear they'd kill every man in Texas 
 who voted for the Union, and I believe they are in 
 earnest." 
 
 ' ' I suppose they are, but you remember the saying 
 about 'catching before hanging,' and if we would 
 draw any comfort from it, I think we should start so 
 as to bother them in overtaking us. I am going to 
 take Archy, and there is no course left for you but to 
 accompany us. I have an uncle, my father's brother, 
 in Kentucky, and I know he must feel as my father 
 does in this matter. With him we will find a home, 
 and when the Kentucky rifles go out to fight for the 
 Union we will join them. What do you say to that, 
 Gaines?" said Robert, laying his hand on the shoul- 
 
THE PARLOR AND THE CABIN. 41 
 
 der of his friend, who was sitting with do\\Ticast eyes. 
 
 •'I am with you, heart and hand, Robert. Let us 
 start within the hour. "We can pass my house as we 
 go up the river, for I must see my wife and boy. 
 Poor girl, she will have a lonely time when I am gone," 
 and Gaines coughed to clear the choking lump which 
 rose in his throat. 
 
 Robert took the arm of his friend and brought him 
 down to supper, which he had ordered a servant to 
 provide, and in the supper-room he explained to the 
 astonished family the cause of Graines's presence. 
 
 While G-aines and Robert were drinking their cof- 
 fee, Archy came to the door, and, in a voice strangely 
 sad, said: "Mauss Robut, de bosses is ready." 
 
 *' All right, Archy," said his young master in a tone 
 of forced cheerfulness. *' I want you to saddle Ne- 
 grete, and fasten him to the rack with the other 
 horses. Mr. Gaines is going with us." 
 
 Archy went out to comply with his master's orders. 
 Passing down through the long street of cabins, which 
 could only be seen by the lights glimmering here and 
 there through windows and chinks, he opened the 
 door of a cabin, about the middle of the quarters, 
 and went in. A fire was blazing on the hearth and a 
 youHg negro woman and two black men were sitting 
 before it. The woman rose as Archy entered, and 
 said, as she came close to him : 
 
 "Lor* bress yeh, chile, yeh looks so tired an' kinder 
 sorry. Now do tell me all de matter. Yeh's not 
 sick, is yeh ? fur yeh says jes' nothin' since yeh corned 
 from de vil'ge." 
 
 " Time 'nuff tu tell yeh, Susey ; time 'nuff. Coon," 
 
 continued Archy, addressing one of the black men, 
 
 4* 
 
42 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " go to do stable an' put Maiiss Bob's saddle on Ne- 
 grete, an' tote 'im roiin' to de rack." 
 
 "Lor* a massy!" ejaculated Coon. "Mauss Bob 
 ain't agoin' to ride dis bressed night, shuah?" 
 
 "Neber yeh mine, Coon. Jes' go an' fotcli Ne- 
 grete. Ye' 11 know plenty soon." 
 
 Coon rose, and, opening the door, gazed out into 
 the murky night, then, drawing in his head, with won- 
 dering eyes and a long-drawn breath, he said : 
 
 " Archy, does yeh want dat 'ar boss fetched roun', 
 sartin?" 
 
 "Yes, I does. Coon. Go right oif, an* if yeh's 
 skeered, take Dolph 'long." 
 
 Dolph rose from his cosy seat, and while he and 
 Coon gi'oped their way to the stables, wondering in 
 their innocent hearts "what de massy" was wrong, 
 Archy sat do^vn on the low stool beside his wife and 
 gazed into the heap of glowing coals ; then slowly 
 looking up, he saw the eyes of the young woman fixed 
 sadly, wonderingly on him. 
 
 " Susey," he began, laying his hand on her's, as if 
 to ease the sorrow he was about to inflict, "I'se gwine 
 'way to-night — 'long way ofif." 
 
 "Yeh's gwine 'way to-night — 'long way off?" she 
 exclaimed, repeating his words. " Whar's yeh g\vine, 
 Archy, an' wat's yeh gvvine fur?" 
 
 *' Susey, Hen Townsend an' two odders tried to kill 
 young mauss to-night, but, bress de Lor', I wus dar to 
 sabe 'em. Iv we stays heah, Susey, dey'U kill us 
 sartin ; so Mauss Robut an' me mus' clar out, right 
 off. We's agwine to Kaintuck, Susey, whar yeh comed 
 frum, when yeh -w^z a pickanin. An' den Mauss 
 Robut is jus' gwine to fight fur de country." 
 
THE PARLOR AND THE CABIN. 43 
 
 *' Wat's Mauss Robut been gone an' done dat he 
 mus' fight, Archy? Tears dar's nuffin' bift fightin', 
 an' I reckon de worl's comin' to an end !" said Susey» 
 suppressing the tears that were evidently rising. 
 Archy tried to console her. 
 
 "Yeh can't imderstan' de laws ob de case, kase 
 y eh' s a woman, Susey . Yeh' 11 know some day — plenty 
 time." Then, changing his tone, he said : "Susey, I 
 wants yeh to tink ob me when I's gone, an' take car' 
 ob de chillen. I'll come back bimeby, an' den, Su- 
 sey, we won't trubble no more.'^ 
 
 Susey laid her left hand on the one which already 
 clasped her right, and while the warm tears stole 
 quietly down her black face, she said, in a sobbing 
 voice : 
 
 " I'd 'pears like I won't see yeh no more, Archy, 
 an' de little cabin '11 be berry lonely when de bans 
 come back at night, an' V 11 look down de lane fur yer 
 shadder — but yeh won' t be thar. So I doesn' t want 
 to lib, Archy, now yeh's gwine away." 
 
 *' Don't worry, Susey; I'll be back bimeby, an' 
 yeh'll larf whin I meets de pickanins at de doah, 
 an' de trubble '11 be gone, an' de good Lor' '11 bress 
 yeh, Susey." 
 
 "I'll try, Archy, I'll try; bud 'tis berry hard, so 
 berry hard," and she bowed her head on her knees. 
 
 Archy left her and stepped quietly to tlie little bed 
 on the floor in the comer, where two plump, little 
 woolly-headed children lay sleeping, with that peace- 
 ful, innocent look to be found as well in the children 
 of the slave as those of the master. He Ivnelt beside 
 them, and his lips moved for a while as if in prayer. 
 Then he stooped and kissed the children, while the 
 
44 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 tears he would not have the mother see fell on the 
 unconscious faces of the little ones. He rose, and, 
 going back to the fire, laid his hand gently on Susey's 
 shoulder, as she sat with bowed head, swaying herself 
 with low, plaintive moans. 
 
 "Don't cry, Susey, chile, ^taint no good nohow. 
 Led' me talk to yeh, Susey, 'fore I goes." 
 
 Susy raised her head and Archy continued : " Mauss 
 Bob gabe me some money, Susey ; it's mor'n I want. 
 Yeh must take half, coz yeh may want it, poor chile ; 
 an' nobody knows wat's a-comin'." 
 
 Susey took the money, saying : " I'll keep it till yeh 
 comes back, Archy, an' I pray de good Lor' it may 
 be soon." 
 
 The tramping of a horse outside told them Coon 
 and Dolph were passing with Negrete. 
 
 Archy hurriedly pulled on a pair of long, heavy 
 cowhide boots, and taking do\N'n a pair of saddle-bags, 
 often used by him in the branding season, he put in 
 a few articles of clothing, and Susey gave him her new 
 bandana wrapped around some bread and meat. 
 
 "Put dis in, chile," she said, "fur yeh mayn't hab 
 time to eat noff in in demornin' — and Archy, honey, 
 I wants yeh to keep de hankercher fur me." 
 
 It was no costly gift of remembrance — no portrait 
 encased in golden lids ; and yet to the heart of the 
 poor black man it was as precious as the most costly 
 jewel ever bestowed by lady fair upon gallant 
 knight. 
 
 After he had everything prepared for the journey, 
 Archy stood up beside his wife and said: "Susey, 
 may de Lor' bress and guard yeh wid his shadowy 
 wings till I come back. Good-bye, my chile, an 
 
THE PARLOR A'ND THE CABIN. 45 
 
 don't fret, nohow, for de bread cast on de waters 
 shall return m many days." 
 
 He kissed her farewell, and before she could reply 
 Archy had passed out of the little cabin, so dear to 
 hini, for in it dwelt his all in the w^orld. 
 
 Poor Susey ! All alone with her sorrow, she crept 
 close to her little ones and poured out the overflow- 
 ing woes of her heart in a low wail of agony. Again 
 and again she kissed the unconscious children, as if 
 their touch, could heal her bleeding heart. Then, 
 starting up, suddenly she threw a covering over her 
 head and rushing out through the blinding storm, 
 struggled toward the white folks' house. Reaching 
 there, she saw Archy, leaning on his rifle before the 
 window of the supper room, and at times drawing his 
 sleeve across his eyes. 
 
 Inside the house another parting was taking place. 
 Mrs. Warren, the tears streaming down her pale face, 
 was clinging to the shoulder of her son. Robert 
 spoke words of cheer which he did not feel, and 
 tried to point her to his return, as if the faint pros- 
 pect of future joy would ease her present sorrow. 
 Again and again Robert kissed her troubled face, 
 and then clasping Mary to his heart, told her to look 
 ahead, for better days would come. Mr. Warren 
 grasped his son's hand and tried to look a calnmess 
 he did not feel ; for a moment he gave way, and 
 Robert's arm prevented his falling to the floor. Archy 
 stole in and bade the family good-bye. Then, prom- 
 ising to send back word by every opportunity, the 
 three men, with their rifles slung over their shoulder.s, 
 passed out, and mounting their horses, rode into the 
 Egyptian darkness. 
 
46 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Tears were shed by the white ladies in the house, 
 and from the eyes of the black woman they flowed, 
 as, crouched 'neath the dripping magnolia, her hungry 
 gaze fed on the retreating forms till lost in the black 
 night. 
 
CHAPTEE V. 
 
 ANARCHY. 
 
 After the three horsemen had ridden beyond the 
 grounds that surrounded Mr. Warren's house, Robert 
 said to his white companion : 
 
 *' You are going to see your wife to-night, before 
 we strike north. I wish, before leaving Gronzelletta, 
 to see one who, if I am spared to return, shall be 
 mine." 
 
 "Without replying, Gaines turned his horse's head 
 in the direction of Mrs. Boardman's plantation. By 
 the time they reached there the rain had ceased, and 
 the varying shades of blackness in the clouds showed 
 the storm had spent its force. 
 
 Leaving his companions standing by their horses 
 outside, Robert knocked at the door, and, after wait- 
 ing for some time, a servant partially opened it, and, 
 shading the light with her hand, peered cautiously 
 at the intruder, whom she soon recognized. 
 
 **Why, Lor*, Mauss Robut, is datyou?" she ex 
 claimed. 
 
 On being assured that it was, she opened the dooi 
 and conducted him into the parlor, informing him a1 
 the same time that " young and ole miss had do^ie 
 gone to bed." 
 
48 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "I am sorry for that, Kitty; but you must tell 
 them I am here. They will understand it and get up 
 at once." 
 
 The girl gave a knowing smile and left the room. 
 
 In a few minutes Mrs. Boardman entered, and ex- 
 pressed herself astonished at Robert's visit at such 
 a time. Amy entered immediately after, and to both 
 he gave a brief account of the day's adventures, and 
 stated that he was then on his way to Kentucky. 
 
 Surprise and grief were painted by turns on the 
 faces of his listeners, and unconsciously the tears 
 rose to the eyes of one. 
 
 ** I feel that it would be hazardous to remain here 
 another hour, Mrs. Boardman ; but, in leaving, it is 
 with the firm belief that I will soon return in safety." 
 
 "I have relatives in Kentucky, Robert, and, if you 
 will excuse me, I will go to my room and prepare for 
 some introductions. You may find them useful." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman went to her room and Robert sat 
 down beside Amy on the sofa. 
 
 " My little girl," he said, gently stroking the brown 
 hair that fell in wavy masses to her waist, *' to-night 
 I must say good-bye, for a longer time than we have 
 ever been parted before ; and when I return it will 
 be. Amy, to make you mine. Keep up a brave heart, 
 and I will write to you whenever I see a chance of 
 your getting my letters." 
 
 She looked into his face and said, "God is too 
 good to part us forever. But be careful, Robert, and 
 remember, 'mid every danger and trial, that I am 
 praymg for you." 
 
 She rose, and going to a stand took from it a pair 
 of scissors. 
 
FIRST PATRIOT BLOOD. 49 
 
 ** Robert, I want that lock of hair you have been 
 promising me so long." 
 
 He bowed his head, and she started back with an 
 exclamation of pain. *' Oh, Robert ! why did you not 
 tell me this ? They came nearer killing you than 
 you would have me know." 
 
 He assured her it was only a scratch, and told her 
 to take a lock from the part of his head where there 
 were no blood stains. She severed one, but it grew 
 close to the path of the coward's bullet, and was 
 dyed with the first patriot blood shed in Texas. 
 
 " I will treasure this, Robert, more dearly, if 
 possible, than ever, and in moments of dejection it 
 will nerve my heart and intensify my hatred of those 
 bad men whose acts have torn you from me !" 
 
 He drew her toward him, the strong arms pressed 
 her to his heart, and their lips met — to be parted for 
 years. 
 
 Mrs. Boardman shortly returned with the letters, 
 and Robert, with a heavy heart, said farewell to his 
 more than friends. 
 
 Again in the saddle, their horses' heads were turned 
 northward, and at a flying pace, regardless of roads, 
 and guided only by the stars, which began to struggle 
 through the thinning clouds, they swept over the 
 prairie. For a short time they stopped at the house 
 of Andrew Gaines, while he procured some clothing 
 and exchanged Negrete for his own favorite mustang. 
 Poor fellow, he left behind him his lovely young wife 
 and child and his aged mother. No wonder that he 
 remained silent till daylight and the sun came to 
 drive the gloom from his heart. 
 
 About forty miles north of Gonzelletta they struck 
 5 
 
50 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the settlement of Santa Cruz, a collection of cattle 
 ranches, with a log store in the middle. To pass the 
 place would be to create suspicion at once, so they 
 boldly rode up, and Eobert asked if they could get 
 breakfast and have their horses fed at the store. 
 Being answered in the affirmative, the three men 
 dismounted, and, while Archy cared for the horses, 
 Robert and Gaines entered the store, which, in truth, 
 was more like a bar-room, with its array of bottles, 
 than a store, for cowhide boots and whisky appeared 
 to constitute the stock in trade. A number of men, 
 apparently the worse for the last night's carouse, 
 were sitting around on the empty barrels and broken 
 chairs, discussing the result of the vote in Fort Bend 
 County. 
 
 Our friends resisted any attempts at pumping until 
 after they had partaken of a warm breakfast, of which 
 they stood much in need. 
 
 Returning to the store-room, Robert heard one of 
 the men say : 
 
 " Boys, didn't yeh know ole Jackson went up last 
 night?" 
 
 "Xo, you don't say !" replied a chorus, in surprise. 
 
 "Sure as shootin' ! The bojs on the East Bernard 
 strung him, an' I heard they was a-goin' for Dempsey. 
 I kinder pity Dempsey if they catch him !" 
 
 "Serves the d — d old traitor right," said a young 
 man with blood-shot eyes, spitting vigorously on the 
 floor. 
 
 "I helped boost that cussed long-legged Adams, 
 an' I'd do the same to ole Sammy Houston if he wuz 
 here," said another. 
 
 "Sam's gone back on Texas, shuah. Come, boys, 
 
WARREN'S STRATEGY. 61 
 
 licker again," said an owly-looking man, who up to 
 this time had been whittling the top of the barrel on 
 which he sat, with his bowie-knife. 
 
 At this juncture a tall young man entered the room 
 and was greeted with a "Hurrah fur Captain Wilson !" 
 Captain Wilson, after taking a drink, in which al) 
 joined, said; 
 
 *'Boys, I'm going to raise a company to fight the 
 Yankees, if necessary. How many here will join 
 me?" 
 
 "I," "I," "I," came from every man in the room 
 except Warren and Gaines. Their silence attracted the 
 attention of one of the men, who, going up to Warren 
 with a swagger, said : 
 
 "See here, friend, are you willing the South 
 should have her rights?" 
 
 "Indeed am I," replied Warren with startling em- 
 phasis. 
 
 "And in case the Yankees shouldn't let us have 
 them, are you willing to fight for them?" 
 " With all my strength !" said Warren. 
 " Then why in thunder don't you fall in and say 
 so?" 
 
 " Oh, you have no organization, nor do I at present 
 see a necessity for one. But the moment the South 
 is subjected to an act of tyranny, I will raise a regi- 
 ment and command it myself.' * 
 
 "And I will be a high private in your command," 
 said Gaines ; and Archy, who by this time had brought 
 up the horses, interposed with — "Wall, I reckon if I 
 can't fight, I can jes' beat any man in de regmen' a 
 cooken'." 
 
 *' Come up an' licker, every man, nigger an' all, 
 
rt WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 yei (ust the bulliest kind of boys," said the ques- 
 tioi -ir. 
 
 >f'arren poured out a glass of native wine, and 
 raising it, addressed the crowd : " Friends, drink my 
 toast." The glasses were all filled. "May the arm 
 of the traitor who opposes right wither, and may he 
 Avho loves not his country never have a home in the 
 sunny South !" 
 
 Loud c-heers greeted this ambiguous toast, and 
 Warren's hand was grasped by every man in the room. 
 
 Not deeming it prudent to tarry long, the horsemen 
 wert soon again pushing southward, their plan being to 
 go through Rusk and 3Iarshall, in southern Texas^ 
 thence into Arkansas, and through Tennessee mto 
 Kentucky. 
 
 A lew miles above Santa Cruz they crossed the 
 river by a ferry, and, and while leading their horses 
 up the muddy banks, and beyond the swampy ap- 
 proach to the river, Archy's attention was arrested 
 by an object in the advance. On a nearer approach 
 it proved to be the body of a man, fastened to a tree 
 by the hands and legs. The head was a pulpy mass, 
 and the bark on the tree on each side was chipped 
 and furrowed by bullets, showing that the man had 
 been made a target of by his cruel murderers. War- 
 ren noticed a piece pf paper at the foot of the tree, 
 that had evidently been pinned to the body, but 
 which the rain had beaten off. Taking it up, he read, 
 in rudely wTitten characters, " A ivarning to all aholi- 
 turners.'' 
 
 Warren looked steadily at the body, and in a low 
 voice said : " Yes, the very name that from my child- 
 hood I have hated will now be applied to me, for in 
 
ANARCHY. 5S 
 
 the South to-day abolition and Union are synony- 
 mous." 
 
 *' I see nothing ahead but anarchy, Robert. Law- 
 lessness all around us, and murder rising to a virtue." 
 " Don't give up, Glaines. My faith is firm in God, 
 and I would as soon doubt Him as doubt the success 
 of what we deem right." 
 
 *' I have no hope. A principle led me to vote for 
 Union yesterday — the fear of death drives me, I know 
 not whither, to-day." 
 
 All day long they rode across the prairies, each 
 busy with his own thoughts. Occasionally they sayr 
 bands of horsemen riding in the distance, but they 
 met with none. Once they stopped to rest their 
 horses, when they lunched on the bread and meat 
 which the thoughtful Susey had done up in the red 
 bandana. 
 
 As night approached thoughts of food and a camp- 
 ing place, where water could be found, came up. Urg- 
 ing their horses to a strip of timber, which in Texas 
 is alwa'ys an indication of water, Robert Warren 
 rode ahead of the party to a depression, or ' ' hog-wal- 
 low," in the prairie. There he touched his horse, 
 the intelligent animal lay down, and Warren took 
 a deer-call from his pocket and gave a few bleats. Sud- 
 denly a hundred red deer rose, and, snuffing the wind, 
 with short, proud steps, looked around in surprise. 
 They were too far off to risk a shot, so Warren 
 mounted his horse, lying full length along him, then 
 giving a low whistle the horse rose, and, with head 
 turned in the direction of the deer, walked deliber- 
 ately toward them. The rider was unobserved till 
 surrounded by the herd, when he suddenly rose, and 
 6* 
 
64 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the startled deer turned, and with long bounds dashed 
 away ; but one grand buck was too late for ^yar^en's 
 rising. Selecting and firing appeared to be one in- 
 stantaneous act, and the deer came to the ground. 
 Dismounting from his horse, he walked up to the dy- 
 ing buck, and ran his hunting knife through the neck. 
 By this time Archy came up and threw the deer across 
 his horse, with scarcely a comment ; and, riding to the 
 timber, each proceeded to prepare the camp. War- 
 ren dressed the deer, Archy picketed the tired horses, 
 and Gaines started a fire and cut green sticks on 
 which to toast the steak. Their appetites were good, 
 and they enjoyed their hunter's fare. They were 
 wearied, and slept soundly by the blazing camp- 
 fire, with the stars shining down, and the still air 
 giving no sound but the feeding of the horses. 
 
CHAPTEE VI. 
 
 "NEAR USED TIP." 
 
 While "Warren and his companions slept by the 
 camp-fire, after their ride of ninety miles, the home 
 at Gonzelletta was anything but peace. 
 
 Henderson Townsend, after Eobert WaiTen had 
 left him on the Brazoria road, returned to the town, 
 leading back his wounded comrade. Although it was 
 quite dark when he reached Brazoria, the drunken 
 crowd had not dispersed. The bar-room was full of 
 swaggering men, singing ribald songs, and swearing 
 vengeance on the Yankees and the men who voted 
 for Union. The appearance of Townsend among them, 
 in the manner stated, was the signal for a burst of sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "By the living Jupiter and Santa Anner, Hen, yer 
 a beautiful picture !" cried one. 
 
 ' ' How the devil did yer both git fixed that way ?" 
 asked another. 
 
 Townsend, with an air of great weakness, dropped 
 into a chair, while his companion went out to cleanse 
 the blood from his face and have his wound attended 
 to. 
 
 *' I'm near used up," began Townsend with a whine ; 
 •* will some one give me a drink?" After swallowing 
 
66 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 a tumblerful of whisky, Townsend groaned and 
 pressed both his hands around his throat, and then 
 groaned again. 
 
 " See here, Townsend, you're coming it a little stiff. 
 You can't make me believe you're hurt as bad as all 
 that. Come, trot out your story. We're all spilin* 
 to hear your yarn," said a young man, whose very ex- 
 pression spoke a contempt for the whining WTetch. 
 
 " "Well, you know we started to make that cuss, 
 Warren, take back his high-flo^^^l words, and when we 
 came up with him he showed fight. Oh, boys, some 
 one give me a drink!" 
 
 " Well, I'll be d— d if I don't think Warren took 
 the starch out of you, Townsend. Why, confound 
 you, you'll be as drunk as a swill-fed hog if you don't 
 go on," again spoke the young man, who appreciated 
 Townsend. After swallowing some more liquor, 
 Townsend continued : 
 
 " Warren showed fight an' dared us to come near 
 him. He called us Wharton's hounds, an' renegade 
 traitors. Then me an' Dempsey ran at him, but he 
 had three niggers hid in the chaparral, an' they run 
 at us from behind, an' that big nigger Archy, cut 
 Dempsey's head open with an axe, an' knocked Flem- 
 ing down. I fought the two of them." 
 
 *' Stop, Townsend, didn't you say there were three 
 niggers and Warren?" interposed the young man, 
 
 "Yes; but I scared off two of them: they took 
 to the bottom, an' I fought the others till it were no 
 kinder use, and I took to the woods myself. I saw- 
 that nigger Archy pick Sam Daprey's pockets, an* 
 then foUer Warren to Gouzelletta. Then I come 
 roun' an' helped Fleming in, an' now we're here." 
 
INFURIATED. 67 
 
 He spoke the last words with the tone of a man 
 asking compassion, and truly he received it. A 
 Btorm of savage imprecations followed the narranve 
 of Townsend's injuries, and a number of the men 
 sprang to their feet, swearing that they would scart 
 for Warren's at once, and hang him and all his nig- 
 gers to the trees. One of them opened the dooi-, as 
 if to carry out his threat, but the petty tempest of 
 human wrath was hushed before the mighty an^^cr of 
 the elements. Down in torrents came the drenching 
 rain. Flash after flash of lightning blinded those 
 who gazed out, and the crashing, deafening thai.der 
 filled the men in the bar-room with av/e. 
 
 *'Boys, no man kin live out sicli a night as this. 
 I never seed sich a storm on the Brazos. If it don't 
 
 rise to-morrow and sweep suthin to h 1, I'm a 
 
 liar." 
 
 The door was slammed to, and for a while the 
 wrongs of Townsend were forgotten in comments on 
 the storm. But little was said till the tornado began 
 to abate, and then cooler reason had resumed its awny. 
 
 The young man who had attempted to joke Town- 
 send was the first to return to the subject. His face 
 was frank and intelligent, but showed signs of early 
 dissipation. Filling a glass ^yiih. water, he drank it 
 off, and then, with the gestm-es of a boyish declaimer, 
 began : 
 
 "Now, I know Hen To\\Tisend, and I'll be hanged 
 if t always swallow what he says. He ain't just the 
 fellow to tie to, in my opinion ; but I think he has 
 told pretty near the truth in the story he has just 
 given. I can take it all in, but his fighting Warren. 
 You all know that's cussed stuff." 
 
68 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Here Townsend groaned and asked for another 
 drink, while young Bentley continued : 
 
 "Now, I'm in for catching Warren, but this ain't 
 just the night for it." 
 
 "Not by a thunderin' sight," said one of the men 
 who had been so anxious to start at once. 
 
 *' If we go out there to-morrow, why, Robert "Warren 
 wouldn't be found lying on the sofa with handcuffs 
 on, saying, *Boys, I'm your prisoner, take me out and 
 hang me.' Not much, T reckon ! If we meet him 
 to-morrow we've got to fight, and I think Bob Warren 
 ain't behind any man when you git him thar. Now, 
 my plan is to go out to-morrow night, after dusk ; they're 
 more likely to be in then than any other time. And 
 we can go for them. Then we'll bring them to Bra- 
 zoria, try them, and if found guilty, why — " and 
 Bentley finished the sentence in pantomime, by tighten- 
 ing the knot on his cravat, holding one end up, and 
 dropping his head on his right shoulder, with a gurgling 
 sound, intended to imitate a death-rattle. 
 
 This plan met the approval of those present, aS 
 indeed anything else which Bently might have said 
 would. Then the party sank to sleep, some on the 
 floor, some on chairs, and Townsend, by virtue of his 
 injuries, on the only spare bed in the tavern. 
 About noon of the following day a meeting of the 
 citizens was called to organize the militia, and 
 Wharton again spoke in the court-house. He had 
 dispatches from Houston, stating that enough of 
 the State had been heard from to warrant the 
 statement that Texas had gone overwhelmingly 
 for secession. He told them that " Brazoria County 
 had done nobly, though he was pained, as his 
 
PROSCRIPTION AND MURDER. 59 
 
 hearers must be, that James Bell, of the supreme 
 bench, a native of that county, had voted at Austin 
 for Union." He told his hearers that friends must 
 be sacrificed and all ties severed, if they found 
 them to be advocates of Union. Those who voted for 
 the Union should be made to go north, for there were 
 the people in sympathy with them. He desired the 
 people to maintain law and order until such time as 
 the seceded States could remodel their laws and ap- 
 point proper officers. One thing the people must 
 watch, and that was the latent love of the old Union 
 which some might yet entertain. Every word breathed 
 against the South or her holy cause was a crime so 
 heinous, that the greatest penalty known to the law 
 should be enforced to crush out opposition. 
 
 Such was the advice of Wharton, and such the 
 teaching of hundreds of others in the "Lone Star 
 State." How well those lessons were received a 
 thousand desolate homes can testify. Widows wailed 
 in sorrow for their husbands, and children watched in 
 vain for a father's return. Murder, drunken with the 
 blood of the faithful, stalked through the land, re- 
 specting not the grey hairs of the patriarch, pitying 
 not the supplications of the youth. 
 
 About the time that "nature's sweet restorer " had 
 rendered Robert Warren and his companions obliv- 
 ious to the world and its cares, a band of some 
 fifteen horsemen, armed to the teeth, dismounted in 
 the rear of his father's plantation. Fastening their 
 horses, they advanced so as to surround the house by 
 the time they reached it. While moving cautiously 
 through a field, Townseud swore a savage oath, shout- 
 ing at the same time : 
 
60 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "See here, boys, here's my horse that Warren's 
 niggers stole!" and, sure enough, there was Town- 
 send's horse. He had succeeded in breaking his 
 halter and getting into the fields after Gaines had 
 dismounted the previous evening. The finding of the 
 horse was the spark wdiich fired the hearts of the des- 
 perate band. They were soon around the house, and 
 two of the men w^ere sent to the negi'O quarters, 
 where, by threats, they learned from Susey that Archy 
 and his master had fled to Galveston. 
 
 Bentley, as leader of the party, accompanied by 
 Townsend, knocked at the door, and, on its being 
 opened, they w^alked in, asking the servant if Mr. 
 Robert "Warren was home. 
 
 *' Mauss Ptobut ain't heah. He' s done gone, shuah.' ' 
 
 *' Xone of yoiu" nonsense," said Bentley, in a savage 
 tone, "tell your master, girl, I want to see him." 
 
 The servant soon returned, telling the men that 
 Mr. Warren would see them in his room. They strode 
 in, and found the old gentleman looking haggard and 
 reclining on a sofa. Motioning them to seats, he asked, 
 *' Gentlemen, what is your pleasure w^ith me?" 
 
 "We come, sir," said Bentley, "armed with the 
 law, to arrest your son and three of your servants 
 for the murder and robbery of one of oiu loyal citi- 
 zens, and for the attempted murder of others, besides the 
 crime of horse-stealing, wdiich can be proved as well." 
 
 "These are strong charges, sir; but, I rejoice to 
 say, they are wholly without foundation, consequently 
 one is as difficult to prove as the other." 
 
 " We will be better able to judge after the parties 
 are tried," said Bentley, "and now I wish to know 
 where we can find them?" 
 
A FEARLESS OLD PATRIOT. 61 
 
 "Indeed, gentlemen," replied Mr. Warren, "I 
 cannot tell you." 
 
 " You mean you will not." 
 
 *' I desire to convey no such impression, sir ; though 
 I might, with truth, say I would not if I could," said 
 Mr. WaiTen, sitting upright. 
 
 Bentley continued : " You must be aware of their 
 whereabouts, and such being the case, you shield 
 their crimes from the law, and become a partner in 
 their guilt. But we will not be satisfied with your 
 denial. Boys !" he shouted, going to the window, 
 *' come in here, three of you, right off." 
 
 Three rough, heavily-bearded fellows sprang in at 
 the call, and were ordered by Bentley to search the 
 house. While they were doing so, he turned to Mr. 
 Warren and said : 
 
 " If your son has fled, we want no further evidence 
 of his guilt." 
 
 *' My son has fled, sir, but he is innocent of the 
 crimes alleged. Last night he was attacked by three 
 armed villains ; among them the man who stands be- 
 side you. He Vvas wounded, and but for his servant 
 would have been killed." 
 
 "If such is the truth, Mr. Warren, why did your 
 son leave Columbia County?" 
 
 ** He left from no fear of a just law and an impar- 
 tial judgment, but to avoid the fury of the fanatics, 
 who hate him because he dared to do his duty." 
 
 "'Tis a lie!" roared Townsend, blind with rage; 
 *"tis a lie, you old abolitionist!" 
 
 The color rose to the pale cheeks of Mr. Warren, 
 his dark eyes flashed, and a momentary strength braced 
 him, as he hm'led a heavy silver pitcher at Townsend's 
 
 6 
 
6S WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 head, and then fell exhausted to the floor. Town* 
 send, with his arm, warded off the blow, and then 
 jumped with his whole might on the postrate man. 
 Mary, who had entered the room at that moment, 
 with a cry of pain threw her arms for protection 
 around her prostrate father, while Bentley, shouting 
 out, "You miserable coward!" hurled Townsend 
 across the room. 
 
 The noise brought Mrs. "Warren in, and with Bent- 
 ley* s aid they lifted the fainting old man on the sofa, 
 and the distracted wife and daughter after a time re- 
 stored him to consciousness. 
 
 At this juncture the three men who had been 
 searching the house returned, stating they had not 
 found Robert Warren, but in his room they discovered 
 the clothes he had worn at Brazoria, torn and covered 
 with blood. 
 
 ** These," said Bentley, holding up the bloo<i-soaked 
 garments, *' are further proofs of your son's guilt, and 
 were it not for the murdered man we buried to-day, 
 and the wounded man, who may not live, I would not 
 credit Townsend' s story." 
 
 " Do you not know," said Mr. WaiTcn, in a scarcely 
 audible voice, "that others who voted for Union were 
 attacked and killed going from Brazoria about the 
 same time. You must be aware, too, that all those 
 men had their horses stolen by Townsend. lie ac- 
 knowledged it to my son.'* 
 
 "No I didn't," said Townsend quickly. "Your 
 son's an abolitionist, an' yesterday he voted agin' us, 
 an' he called our flag a rag ; an' any man that does 
 that should be hung. Wharton says so." 
 
 Mr. Warren turned to Bentley : 
 
THE CAPTIVE. 63 
 
 ** Did Wharton utter such sentiments to the people ?' ' 
 
 **Yes, sir; he did," was the reply. 
 
 "Then," continued Mr. Warren, " I am as guilty as 
 toy son ; for had I been able to attend the polls I 
 should certainly have voted as he did." 
 
 "Didn't I tell yer?" roared Townsend. "Didn't I 
 tell yer he was a abolitionist ? Now, Bentley, can-y 
 out yer word, an' have this man put through." 
 
 A shade of soitow passed over Bentley' s face as 
 he said: *'Mr. Warren, I regret that I must take you 
 to the town, and that I am compelled to continue my 
 search till we find your son." 
 
 *' Take the old traitor along !" shouted several men 
 who had crowded on the gallery, and were looking in 
 through the windows. "Take him along, an' string 
 him up if he goes back on us !" 
 
 "Oh, gentlemen!" cried Mrs. Warren, throwing 
 her arms around her husband's neck. ' ' For the sake 
 of heaven do not move my husband. He is an inva- 
 lid, and cannot bear it. Take me, my property, my 
 life ; but spare him. Oh ! by the love you bear your 
 fathers, spare him !" 
 
 "Hush, my wife," said t!ie old man, attempting to 
 rise. *'Do not fret ; they will not injure me beyond 
 taking me to the village. Mr. Bentley, you will let 
 me take my own carriage, and permit my daughter to 
 accompany me ?" 
 
 *' Certainly, sir ; and I will here say that if I con- 
 sulted my own feelings you would not have to move 
 one inch." 
 
 In a short time the caiTiage came to the door, and 
 Mr. Warren, leaning on the arm of his care-worn 
 daughter, stepped in, with a kind word to his weep- 
 
64 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ing wife. The horsemen formed around, as if they 
 were guarding a desperado, and the procession moved 
 towards Brazoria. 
 
 The carriage stopped not till it had reached a heavy 
 brick structure in the center of the town, when Town- 
 send came to the window, and in a taunting voice 
 said, *' Come right out, sir, here's yer ranche till yeh 
 cool down on the Yankee an' the nigger." 
 
 Mary helped her father out, and, looking up at the 
 jail, a cold thrill ran through her, and she clung for 
 support to her father's frail arm. 
 
 Bentley was not among the guards. Hasty as he 
 was, his natural goodness of heart led him to avoid 
 this scene. 
 
 After standing a few minutes before the building, 
 a rough voice shouted out, ''Bring along yer man, 
 Townsend — got his quarters all ready." 
 
 *' Oh my father ! my dear, dear father, you cannot 
 live there ! Oh men, mercy, mercy ! My father has 
 done no wrong ! Before God, my father has done no 
 wrong ! He is old and sick, and the damp prison will 
 kill him. Oh, as you hope for mercy at God's throne, 
 don't break my heart ! Don't kill my father !" 
 
 "My child, my little Mary, do not fret," said Mr. 
 Warren in a kind, strong tone ; " I will be out in a few 
 days. They cannot keep me here. Why, I will be 
 safely back to Gonzelletta in a few days." 
 
 Poor girl, she could not speak. The gentle heart 
 was breaking, and even the stars seemed to look with 
 pity on her mighty woe. 
 
 The prison doors closed that night on the old i)a- 
 triot, and there was weeping in his once happy home 
 at Gonzelletta. He prayed God that he might live 
 
THE CAPTIVE RELEASED. 65 
 
 to see all his dear ones again, and peace restored to 
 the land. 
 
 God answers those priyers which, in His far-seeing 
 wisdom, seem best. After many days the old man 
 was released. He lay upon the old safa, and soft 
 "botsteps moved around him. Mary knelt at his feet, 
 ind the soft hand of his wife wiped the cold white 
 forehead, and whispered words of tenderness and 
 hope. The spirit fluttered on the thin pale lips as he 
 tried to respond. Once they moved as if in prayer. 
 Then for a time all was still, save the ticking of the 
 old clock, and an occasional sob. Then in an audi- 
 ble voice, that sounded as if from a better land, he 
 said: *«I forgive them. Bless, God! bless the 
 cause of right ! Preserve my wife, my children. 
 Robert, Robert !" A scarcely audible sound followed. 
 One long breath, and slowly, as the manly chest set- 
 tled down, the spirit passed out and left him as if 
 asleep. 
 
CHAPTEE VII 
 
 THE JOURNEY NORTHWARD. 
 
 Fc; thirteen days Robert Warren and Aw friends 
 pus! f> 1 northward, prudently avoiding ^be villages 
 and <Uck settlements, till they reached tbe beau- 
 tiful <own of Marshall in northeastern Texa?. Here 
 they determined to stop, in order to obtain supplies 
 and i^ews from the world, out of which they had been 
 shu*-, on their long ride. Robert Warren was astonished 
 to h*^ar men boasting in Marshall, that, while all the 
 northeastern counties had voted for Union, the re- 
 turr s were so falsified as to make the result seem the 
 otb*^r way. Thus Texas, though at heart in favor of 
 th'> Union, was rushed out. Thousands were deterred 
 from voting as they felt, and where they did vote 
 ag-^inst secession, the result was changed. 
 
 On the evening of the arrival of our party in Mar- 
 sh \11, the stage, heavily laden with passengers, came 
 in from Houston. From one of the new arrivals 
 W arren succeeded in borrowing a few copies of the 
 B mston Telegraph. While reading them over his 
 ev ?s rested on the following paragraph : 
 "$5,000 REWARD! 
 
 " SHOCKING MURDER IN BRAZORIA ! 
 
 "Brazoria, March 24, 1861. 
 * The above reward will be given for the body of 
 
PATRIOTS POSTED. 67 
 
 Robert "Warren, jr., late of Gonzelletta ; the afore- 
 said Warren being guilty of the cold-bloo'l«id murder 
 of two of our loyal citizens. He was aided in his 
 fiendish acts by a negro who answers to the name pf 
 *Archy/ The murderer Warren is twenty-five years 
 of age, dark-complexioned, with black mou/^tache and 
 grey eyes. He is strongly built, is about six feet in 
 height, and has a strong, decided way of speaking. 
 Half the above reward will be given for any infor- 
 mation that may lead to his capture. AU persons 
 knowingly harboring or aiding the aforesaid fugitives 
 are subject to arrest and trial as abettors in their of- 
 fense.'* 
 
 This was signed by many of the prominent citizens 
 of Brazoria, and was made the subject of an editorial 
 in the Telegraph. The crime of murder in the south- 
 ern States was treated as the direct effect of abolition 
 teaching. The article closed by invoking its readers, 
 "as they loved peace, religion, and liberty, to crush 
 down every feeling of sympathy for the old Union. 
 That once honored word has lost its original meaning, 
 and now denotes abolition, tyranny, puritanism, free- 
 lovism, and every other crime — a reproach to civiliza- 
 tion and the race." 
 
 Robert handed this paper to Gaines before return- 
 ing it to the gentleman from whom he had borrowed 
 it. Gaines read it with compressed lips, and having 
 finished it, he said hurriedly and incautiously : 
 
 " Robert, the man who edits that paper, the fellow 
 who penned that article, is a native of New England. 
 I knew him when he first settled in Houston, a second- 
 rate school teacher. But he married old Burton's 
 daughter, and owns slaves. The scoundrel ! Why, in 
 
68 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 his own State he must have been the most whining 
 abolitionist and constitutional hater of the South. 
 Now, he is a sneaking traitor who would not give up 
 the smallest negro on his place to save the whole 
 government. I say d — n the Yankees !" 
 
 Robert saw that Gaines was getting excited, and 
 stopped him by calling to his mind, in a whisper, their 
 situation. 
 
 The gentleman who had loaned the paper over- 
 heard Gaines's excited speech, and looking up to Rob- 
 ert he tapped him on the shoulder, saying, " Excuse 
 me, but I wish to speak privately with you for a few 
 moments." 
 
 "Certainly, sir," said Warren as he followed the 
 man up stairs. Entering a room, his conductor turned 
 the key in the door, and in a calm tone said, "Be 
 seated, Mr. Warren." 
 
 For a moment Robert could not speak, but stared 
 in wonder at the man thus addressing him. He soon 
 recovered his self possession, and, drawing a pistol 
 from his belt, asked in a tone w^hich showed he was 
 in no trifling humor : 
 
 •' Who are you, sir? and what did you brmg me 
 here for?" 
 
 " Put up your pistol, Robert Warren ; I am a friend. 
 My name is Charles Anderson, formerly of Ohio, and 
 I think, sir, that my patriotism is as strong as yours. 
 I brought you here to put you on your guard, for, if 
 I mistake not, others, less friendly, have the same sus- 
 picions I had." 
 
 Mr. xAnderson held out his hand as he concluded, 
 and Robert clasped it warmly. 
 
 " God bless you, sir. But you do not believe that 
 
A FRIEND INDEED. 69 
 
 infamous story in the paper?" 
 
 " Believe it ? no ! I heard a true version of the 
 whole affair before I left Houston, and I have been 
 praying ever since for your escape." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Anderson, you know my situation ; 
 what would you advise under the circumstances?" 
 
 "I would advise you to start this very night, if 
 your horses can stand it, for Shreveport, Louisiana. 
 You can reach there by morning, and then rest but 
 little till you put the Mississippi between you and 
 Texas." 
 
 Kobert "Warren agreed to follow the advice of his 
 new friend and start for Shreveport before dark. 
 
 Mr. x\nderson told him more about the iniquity of 
 the election, and of his own determination to go north 
 as soon as possible — 
 
 " For,' ' said he, "I thank Grod, Mr. Warren, there are 
 some northern men in the South who dare to be true, 
 and who, though their efforts have been futile, have 
 tried to stem the torrent of rebellion. I saved this," 
 continued he, showing a flag wrapped around his 
 breast inside his waistcoat, ' ' I saved this from the 
 fury of the mob at Austin, and I will retain it till I 
 can hoist it again over the capitol of Texas." 
 
 Then Robert's eyes filled as he took the shreds of 
 the torn flag from his own pocket, and briefly recount- 
 ed to Mr. Anderson the facts in connection with the 
 voting in Brazoria, with which the reader is already 
 familiar. 
 
 Deciding to act on Mr. Anderson's advice at once, 
 Robert descended with that gentleman to the bar- 
 room, where he found Gaines, and informed him in 
 an undertone of his determination to leave Marshall 
 
70 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 at once. After partaking of a hearty supper, they 
 bade Mr. Anderson farewell, and before it was quite 
 dark they were seven miles from Marshall, on the 
 Shreveport road. 
 
 Considering the immediate danger as passed, they 
 slackened the speed of their weary horses, and rode 
 at a w^alk till ten o'clock. While ascending a hill 
 on the road, they were startled by the sound of horses 
 galloping rapidly behind them. Archy dismounted, 
 and placing his ear to the ground listened for a few 
 seconds, then rising, hurriedly said : 
 
 ** Mauss Robut, dar's mor'n ten, an dey's comin dis 
 way right smart, shuah." 
 
 " It may be some party in pursuit, and, if so, it 
 would be foolish to race them with our jaded horses. 
 Gaines, are your arms ready, and yours, Archy?" 
 Being answered in the affirmative, Robert continued, 
 *' I think our wisest plan is to turn into the woods and 
 dismount till they pass." 
 
 Dismounting, they led their horses into the woods 
 and for some distance through the dense undergrowth. 
 They were about ten yards from the road when a party 
 of horsemen galloped to the top of the hill, and the 
 fugitives could see by the starlight the glistening of 
 their polished guns. Their horses were panting from 
 their hard ride, and one of the party shouted out : 
 
 " Halt, fels ! I don't think they com'd on this har 
 road, or we'd overtook 'em. I think we're on the 
 ^^Tong scent." 
 
 "No we ain't," answered another, "kase I looked 
 the tracks two mile back, an' they wuz on this road, 
 an' they couldn't a' took another, fur thar ain't none." 
 
 *♦ Waal," said the first speaker, who appeared to be 
 
THE PURSUIT. 71 
 
 the le'rtdet, *' thar's no kinder use in all on us agoin 
 arter 'em by this light. Let six of yer keep doun the 
 road, an' if yer ain't back in an hour, we'll think yer 
 on the trail, and foUer. We'll rest the critters an' 
 start a fire till then." 
 
 This was agreed to, and six of the horsemen gal- 
 loped rapidly down the road, while the remainder, 
 some eight in number, dismounted and took off the 
 bridles to let their animals rest. Soon a bright glare 
 lit up the woods from the camp-fire of the pursuers. 
 They were about sixty yards from the spot where the 
 three men stood by their horses, and so still was the 
 atmosphere that the breaking of the smallest twig 
 could be heard from their place of concealment. 
 
 "They may not be after us, Gaines," w^hispered 
 Warren; "I will make sure. Keep the bridle over 
 Don's head, Archy, for I may have to mount rapidly. 
 Be still as the grave till I return." 
 
 So saying, Robert Warren carefully removed his 
 long Mexican spurs, and putting them in his saddle- 
 bags, walked with the cautious step of an Indian to- 
 ward the fire. 
 
 He noticed within a few yards of the group a tree 
 much larger than the usual scrubby growth, and, get- 
 ting into its shadow, he crawled close to it, and from 
 its protection he drank in with thirsty ears every word 
 of the men around the fire. 
 
 "If," said one, who had stretched himself on his 
 face full length before the fire, " if we'd com*d up with 
 them thar fellers, I reckon they'd a showed right 
 smart fight." 
 
 " You bet," laconically grunted a stalwart giant, who 
 stood basking himself in the heat of the blazing logs. 
 
72 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 *'We'd orter got *em in town," said the leader. 
 " That feller, Bentley, had orter come hisself. I'm 
 afeared we'll have the hunt for nothing." 
 
 ""Waal, I dimno about takin' 'em in town," said 
 the first speaker. "If we'd a tried it, I reckon we'd 
 a' had more to fight than a nigger and two white men, 
 for thar is more mangy cusses in Marshall than I ever 
 seed ; an' if they knowed when we wuz comin', you 
 bet, they*d a follered an* gi'n us trouble." 
 
 *' See here," said the giant before referred to, "if 
 I knowed them fellers wasn't murderers, by thunder, 
 you wouldn't catch me arter 'em." 
 
 " Yes, Tennessee, I believe, as true as I'm Sam 
 Rose, yer as much of a Yankee as any of 'em, if ye'd 
 only spunk ter show it," said the leader. 
 
 "If I'd only spunk to show it ! You blasted fool, 
 do yeh suppose I darn't say jest what I please, an' do 
 what I please, without fear of any man ?" asked the 
 man addressed as Tennessee, taking a step toward 
 Rose. 
 
 " I don't think yer skeered, but I do think yeh ain't 
 jist 0. K.; that's all." 
 
 " Waal," replied Tennessee, "I'll tell you uns how 
 I feel 'bout it. Grinral Jackson loved the Union, an' 
 cussed if I don't to. The Yankees never did me 
 harm, an' if we're go in' to have war, why, I jest think 
 it'll be a rich man's quarrel an' a poor man's fight. 
 I ain't spilin' to fight unless some onery fool gives me 
 gab." 
 
 "Yes, Tennessee, if all on us did that, the aboli- 
 tionists would come dov>-n bar an' make yeh marry a 
 nigger wench. How would yeh like that, ole fel?" 
 " I wouldn't like it, if it wuz so ; but that's chile 
 
THE ENCOUNTER. 73 
 
 talk. I've got a white woman fur a wife, an' a bully 
 girl she is. But I'll tell yeh what, Rose, some of you 
 fellers mout as well have nigger wives as live as yeh do." 
 
 "What do yeh mean?" demanded Rose, rising. 
 " Tennessee, yer as bad as the houns we're a chasing, 
 an' if yeh want to keep yer skin whole, my advice is 
 to clar' out jist as soon as yeh kin." 
 
 "Ye'd better keep yer shirt on. Rose. Another 
 word in that style, an' by the ghost of Ginral Jack- 
 son, I'll roast yeh on this fire !" and Tennessee fingered 
 the hilt of his huge knife and kicked the logs before 
 him till a shower of sparks, like a fiery fountain, flew 
 upward. 
 
 At this point of the conversation the loud neighing 
 of a horse in the woods rang out and startled the men 
 around the fire. 
 
 «<By , they're in thar!" shouted Ros3, spring- 
 ing to his feet and advancing toward the tree behinc* 
 which Robert was concealed. "I heerd some one 
 speak in thar, sure ! Tumble up, men ; we'll cotch 
 them." 
 
 The suggestion of Rose was ha tily complied with, 
 the men seizing their arms and rushing in tiie direc- 
 tion indicated by the sound. 
 
 Quick as a flash, Robert Warren sprang from be- 
 hind the tree, and with his knife cut loose the horses 
 of his pursuers, and then with a yell, such only as an 
 Indian or a Texan can give, he drew his pistol and 
 fired toward Rose's gang. They turned, to a man, to 
 meet this attack in the rear, but Warren was not ic 
 be seen. Ho sprang unperceived into the woods, and 
 in a few seconds was mounted on his horse. 
 
 "Don't move till they come up again," he wliis- 
 7 
 
74 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 pered to his companions ; " and then fire righ<" at 
 them till your pistols are exhausted. After thtit, 
 follow my example." 
 
 Half of Rose's men started in pursuit of the stam- 
 peded animals, and the others cautiously retur«.ea to 
 the woods. Like statues the fugitives sat theii 
 horses, with their pistols cocked and pointed in the 
 direction of their pursuers. On they came, ao close 
 that Warren could hear their hurried breathing. One 
 of the horses moved ; a wild yell announced thd dis- 
 covery by the nearest of the party, and at random a 
 half dozen rifles were discharged in the direction of 
 Warren. Between him and the blazing fire he saw 
 the advancing figures not ten paces off. He leveled 
 and shouted "Fire !" Two of the men fell, ai/d again 
 Warren cocked and fired. Rose shouted out, "Git 
 out of the light, boys, or we're gone !" and the men 
 rushed back toward the fire. Wanen spurred his 
 horse into the middle of the road, and shouted: 
 *' Hurrah for the Union and General Jackson !" 
 
 Then they wheeled their horses, and the spirited 
 creatures needed no spur to obey the piessure of the 
 knee. Away they flew ; but they were not alone. A 
 giant horseman echoed Robert's shoat^ and cried out, 
 "Keep to the left!" Instinctively '.he horses were 
 turned, and the four men dashed pasi; the fire and the 
 bewildered pursuers. They were retracing their steps 
 on the Marshall road. After riding about a mile, 
 Robert reined in his horse to listen for their pursuers. 
 The galloping of one horse could Le heard advancing, 
 and they detennined to wait till he came up. In a 
 few seconds the huge horseman drew rein beside them. 
 He saluted them with, "Wall, frien's, tliat wuz 
 
TAD— A SAFE HARBOR. 76 
 
 purty nice did, wa'iit it? But kcepagoin' — foUer me.'* 
 
 Saying this, he dashed ahead, and without a com- 
 ment Warren and his friends followed him. About 
 half a mile further on, the guide called out, as he 
 dashed into the woods to the right, " Injmi file ! Hug 
 close to yer saddles !" At a rapid gallop they sped 
 through the black jungle, though, from the smoothness 
 of the horses' tread, Warren judged they were riding 
 over a beaten path. 
 
 After riding for about two hours, during which not 
 a word was spoken, they reached a wide stream, into 
 which the guide plunged and the fugitives followed. 
 The ri^^er was fordable, and after ascending the oppo- 
 site bank, they saw the light of a cabin a short distance 
 ahead. Dismounting before the door, the guide gave 
 a peculiar rap, and soon it was opened by what in the 
 indistinct light af^eared to be a very old man, 
 
 " Who's thar?" he asked. 
 
 "Frien's to you an' Grinral Jackson," was the reply. 
 
 " Why, Tennessee, I'm right glad to see yeh. Come 
 in, come in," said the man at the door. 
 
 "My frien's wants rest fur the night. Tad, an' our 
 critters are nigh gin out, so I reckon we'd better ten' 
 to them fust." 
 
 The proprietor of the cabin stepped back, and soon 
 reappeared, shading a light, with w^iich he led the 
 way to a shed in the rear of his cabin. An abundance 
 of fodder was quickly placed in the racks, and the 
 jaded animals, divested of their heavy saddles, were 
 soon enjoying the strange and welcome hospitality. 
 
 The individual addressed as "Tad" then returned 
 with his guests to the cabin. 
 
 "These men is frien's of we'uns, Tad," said Ten- 
 
76 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 nessee, by v.ay of introduction. "I tiik 'cm out of a 
 big fuss over on the Shreveport road. They goes in 
 strong for Ginral Jackson." 
 
 "Then," said Tad, "they're frien's o' mine, sartin. 
 Sit do^^^l, boys, an' I'll git yeh suthin hot in no time." 
 The "boys," divesting themselves of their arms, 
 accepted the invitation of Tad, who started to pre- 
 pare the "suthin hot" for his guests. While he is 
 doing so, let us take a glance at a man with whom we 
 are to be better acquainted — "Tennessee." He was 
 truly a giant in form, though, unlike most large men, 
 there was a flexibility about him which gave a nerv^ous 
 appearance to his movements. He was about forty 
 years of age, with long, yellowish hair and beard, large, 
 innocent-looking blue eyes, and a strong, yet kindly 
 expression of the wliole face — such a man as children, 
 dogs, and horses would approach without fear. While 
 Tad was at work, Tennessee sat before the fire stroking 
 his long beard and spitting energetically into the heap 
 of glowing coals. He looked as innocent as a gi-eat 
 Newfoundland, yet he was the man on whose judg- 
 ment and fidelity the fate of armies subsequently 
 depended. 
 
 " Do yeh know Mr. Anderson ?" asked Tennessee, 
 directing his query to Robert. 
 
 " I met him this evening, and it was by his advice 
 that we left Marshall." 
 
 " Wall, I know'd him in Austin. An' I met him 
 agin yesterday — it's after midnight now." The last 
 clause was inserted to justify his saying "yesterday." 
 Then he went on, "We saw them fellers a po^^'^vowing 
 about you'uns. Mr. Anderson told me 'twas all a lie 
 about yer killen' any one, only in defense, and he told 
 
" SUTHIN HOT." 77 
 
 me yeh went in on Ginral Jackson. He says to nie, 
 * Tennessee* — they calls me 'Tennessee' coz I'm 
 from that State — ' Tennessee, yeh mus' go with them 
 fellers, if they chase Warren, an' put them on the 
 wrong track, if yeh kin, an' if yeh can't, why, do 
 what's right/ I told him, by thunder I would, I 
 wanted to git them out on the Caddo Lake road, but 
 Rose ain't very dull. He 'spected to have a big pull 
 if he got yeh." 
 
 " But how did you manage to get your horse so as 
 to catch up with us, after I loosed the animals?" 
 
 In reply Tennessee said : " Thar wuz one boss yeh 
 didn't loose, cuz I wuz on his back before yeh got near 
 the others. I saw yer whole plan to wunst, an' I 
 *spected a devil of a fight, but the whole thing ended 
 bully," and Tennessee closed with a low, chuckling 
 laugh. 
 
 Robert told Tennessee of his position by the tree, 
 and the conversation which he overheard near the fire, 
 which convinced him that Tennessee was a friend. '* I 
 intended, however, after getting on the road, to give 
 my enemies a long chase by keeping to the right." 
 
 " That seemed natral, as it wuz the line yeh've got 
 to take bimeby ; but if yeh had, ye'd a got inter the 
 all-firdest trap by runnin' slap agin' the crowd comin' 
 back on the road. But now we 'uns is all har safe, 
 an' to keep so, we musn't be har long." 
 
 Tad here ended the conversation by handing a tin 
 cup to each man, and then filling it with a steam- 
 ing potion from a brown earthen pitcher. Tad, who 
 was really a younger man than Tennessee, called the 
 fluid " hot stuff, mighty good fur the spemts." After 
 all had drank, with the customary "Good health," 
 7* 
 
78 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Here's at yeh," and "How," Tad proceeded to pre 
 pare a bed for his visitors. He took from a rack a 
 pile of buffalo and deer skins, and spread them in 
 layers till they formed a bed which a prince might 
 envy. He then threw an armful to Archy, saying : 
 '•Take them, ole feller, an' make yersel' a nest in the 
 corner." 
 
 •'Tank yeh, mausser, I reckon I kin sleep like a 
 alligator anywhar after drinkin' dat •hot stuff.' " 
 
 ••Are you sure, my friend," asked Gaines, as he 
 was about to lie down, "that we are safe here? for 
 if so, I will take off my clothes for a good sleep." 
 
 •' Yer as safe, ole boy, as if yeh wuz in yer own 
 mother's house," answered Tennessee; and with this 
 consoling information, the two fugitives sank to rest, 
 while Tennessee and Tad retired to a small room at 
 the end of the cabin, from which the sound of heavy 
 breating soon came, and peace reigned in the realm 
 of danger. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE LAKES. 
 
 In Caddo Parish, in northwestern Louisiana, which 
 borders on Texas, there is a large cluster of fresh- 
 water lakes and deep bayous, that wind in the most 
 tortuous manner through the rich low lands of that 
 section. Some of the bayous return again into their 
 sources, if such the lakes that receive them can be 
 called. 
 
 Along some of the bayous there are many fine cot- 
 ton plantations, but the greater portion of the lake 
 region is in its primitive state. Wild ducks by thous- 
 ands swim in peace on the calm waters, unnoticed by 
 the hunter, who watches for the bear, or waits at 
 evening by the shores for the watering of the antlered 
 buck. Swans by thousands float there undisturbed, and 
 from the shallow shores the shrill cry of the heron 
 reverberates through the bordering cypress groves. 
 There is an air of melancholy, of almost utter loneli- 
 ness about these lakes, and the effect is increased by 
 the long grey moss which like funeral plumes hangs 
 from the trees. There is nothing picturesque, in the or- 
 dinary acception of that word, about the Caddo Lakes, 
 and the log-like alligators, swimming along the mud- 
 dy shores, add not to its beauty. Li the hunting 
 season, the lake region is a grand resort for those who 
 
80 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 hunt for a living or sport. Then over its waters floats 
 the canoe of the Indian from the north, in its pristine 
 simplicity, while the occupant with poised spear 
 watches for the rising of the black-fish. Then the 
 white trapper, scarcely more elevated than the In- 
 dians, frequents the lake to reap a rich and certain 
 harvest of pelts. 
 
 Dotted through the lakes are mjTiads of small 
 islands, covered with a dense undergrowth of cane, 
 and bounded like the shores with wide-spreading cy- 
 press-trees. But few of the islands have been trod- 
 den by the foot of man. Often, when the Red River, 
 into which the lakes empty, is flooded, the water 
 backs into the lakes, and the islands are submerged 
 to the depth of eight or ten feet. After the flood 
 subsides, the vegetable growth on the rich alluvial 
 deposit is truly wonderful. In the months of Sep- 
 tember and October immense flocks of birds frequent 
 the islands to feed on the luscious mustang gi'apes 
 which hang in great bunches from the prolific vines. 
 
 The sun had risen on the morning after the arrival 
 of the fugutives at Tad's. That individual was up 
 first, and attended to the horses. Then he returned 
 and awoke Archy, who immediately started the fire, 
 and of his own accord began to prepare the materials 
 for breakfast. The noise soon roused the others, and 
 they rose refreshed from their soft, warm couches. 
 After the morning salutations had passed, Tennessee 
 laid down the plan for the next move of the fugutives 
 in this wise : 
 
 "When we've had suthin' to eat, we mus' go to the 
 island an' lay low till them whelps at Marshall has 
 stopped barkin'.'* 
 
PRECAUTIONS. 81 
 
 ^ ^Vliere is the island, and what sort of a place is 
 r\ ^ asked "Warren. 
 
 " Wail/ replied Tennessee, " 'taint much of a place 
 ter brag on. It's over in Cadder Lake, 'bout six 
 mile from har. I've got a shanty over thar, that I 
 use in fisnm' season. It's right dry sile, and thar's 
 lots of feea fur the critters aroun' it at this time." 
 
 "But how are we to get over the lake to the isl- 
 ands ?" aske<i Warren, with wondering eyes. 
 
 " Oh ! th^ water is shaller ; we kin wade over on 
 the critters. We've got to go thar, kase its the only 
 safe place, (f we stays har, they'll cotch us, sartin, 
 and then I A^ouldn't give a chaw of terbaccy for all 
 on us. Over on the island no one never comes, 'cept 
 mysel'. They doesn't dream thar's anything thar. 
 When you 'uns) have staid a few days, an' all is quiet, 
 I'll come an' start yeh on a clar' road." 
 
 Both Robert and Gaines determined to place the ut-- 
 most reliance in their guide, and told him they would 
 do whatever he thought best in the matter. 
 
 In the meantime, Archy had shown his director 
 that he needed no in/ormation on the subject of cook- 
 ing, for he piled upon the plates which Tad had set 
 savory heaps of venison steak, fried yams, and boiled 
 black-fish, besides prepaiing an abimdance of aromatic 
 coffee, that would not disgrace a Parisian restaurant. 
 While the four white mew were eating, Archy kept 
 their plates covered with an abundance of com cakes, 
 light and hot from the griddle. After Archy had 
 eaten his breakfast, he went out with Tennessee and 
 Tad to saddle the horses, leaving Robert and Gaines 
 alone. 
 
 " I'm afraid," said Gaines, " this is anly the begin- 
 
.B2 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 tiing of our troubles. If we ever get to Kentucky, 
 it will be after much trouble." 
 
 " "We may have a rough time, Gaines, but we will 
 get there all right, depend on it ; and then we will 
 laugh at these scrapes we are passing through. Think 
 of what fun we will have, in days to come, when you 
 come to see me and Mrs. WaiTcn, and we tell our 
 w^ondering wives of the adventures we had bringing 
 the flag back to the Brazos, and, I might add, taking 
 ourselves away." 
 
 Gaines could not help laughing at Robert's pic- 
 ture ; but his despondency soon returned, and he 
 repeated his old sentiment, that principle, not hope, 
 induced him to keep on. 
 
 The conversation was stopped, as Archy approached, 
 leading the horses. 
 
 ♦ ' Mauss Robut, de bosses is fuss rate dis mornin'. 
 Don is skeery as a colt, an' Senor is full ob pitch as 
 a new mustang," 
 
 " And how do you feel, Archy?" 
 
 " I feel, Mauss Robut, as if de good Lor' held us 
 in de holler ob his hand, an' was a watchin' behiu* 
 de clouds, sayin', 'I'le keerfor yeh.' " 
 
 "There, Gaines, if you want any consolation, con- 
 sult Archy, he is always ready." 
 
 *' Yes, Archy has always a consolation." 
 
 Tennessee and Tad here interrupted the conversa- 
 tion, as they appeared with two bags filled with meat, 
 coffee, meal, and other necessaries ; besides this. Tad 
 strapped two buffalo robes to the saddles of his guests, 
 and begged them to let Tennessee know if they wanted 
 anything else he had, after they got to the island, 
 and he would send it to them at once. 
 
ON THE ISLAND. 83 
 
 Robert tlianked Tad heartily for his kindness, and 
 ofTered to pay him, but the generous fellow would not 
 listen to it, so, bidding him good-bye, they mounted 
 their horses and followed Tad to the lake. 
 
 After on hour's riding they reached the cane-brake 
 along the shore, and pusliing through, they were soon 
 v-ading between the cypress trees that grow up for 
 some distance in the lake. The water grew deeper 
 till it covered the back of Tennessee's mustang, but 
 the hardy little creature, with an ambition that would 
 do credit to a larger horse, pushed boldly in the 
 advance. After wading for an horn', they passed 
 through the cypress trees, and came to the margin of 
 the island, and entered an open field of deep rich 
 grass. On the farther side of the field was the log 
 cabin of Tennessee, which was soon reached, and the 
 animals permitted to roll on the grass. 
 
 " This yer's not jist a beautiful place," said Tennes- 
 see, " but ye'll find plenty fur the critters, an' yeh kin 
 live on yer rifles like Cherokee chiefs. After I get 
 yeh fixed, I'm goin' back ter Marshall and fine out 
 what that cuss. Rose, is a doin'. I mayn't be back for 
 two days. I've got to see my ole woman an' the 
 young un's, so's to get 'em ready to live alone in case 
 I've got to clar out, which I don't keer to do, 'less it 
 gits dangerous." 
 
 On entering the cabin they found it more comfort- 
 able than its outside appearance indicated. The 
 walls were chmked and the floor was made of rough- 
 hewn, closely-fitted cypress slabs. In the walls great 
 pegs w^ere driven, from which hmig the fishing tackle 
 and hunting traps of Tennessee. A huge fire-place 
 occupied one end of the shanty, on the hearth of 
 
84 ' WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 which Archy had soon a blazing fire. A few primi* 
 tive cooking utensils were pointed out by Tennessee, 
 and after telling them where to procure water and the 
 best points for game, he resaddled his mustang, and 
 giving each a warm grasp of the hand, repeated his 
 pledge to return. Then, slinging his rifle over his 
 shoulder, he sprang into the saddle, and was soon lost 
 to sight 'mid the cane-brake and the cypress groves. 
 
CHAPTEE IX, 
 
 tad's cabin burned. 
 As Tennessee rode away from the island, the full 
 danger of his position dawned upon him. Before this 
 adventure, the secessionists of Marshall had looked 
 upon him with suspicion ; now their suspicions would 
 be confinned, and their hate increased. He must get 
 away as soon as possble, for to remain now would be 
 to seek death. Of course he would have to see his 
 wife and children. He lived in a thickly-settled part 
 of the town, and could not get home without being 
 seen. Hose was watching for him, no doubt. He 
 knew Rose was afraid of him ; but he had lots of 
 backing. It might be best to send Tad into Marshall 
 and acquaint his wife with his determmation to start 
 for Tennessee. There was no use in getting into dan- 
 ger without a show, though it would be gratifying to 
 take a shot at that scoundrel. Rose. 
 
 Acting on the wisest suggestion that came to his 
 mind, Tennessee retraced his trail to Tad's cabin, 
 which he reached early in the afternoon ; that is, he 
 reached the place where Tad's cabin had been that 
 morning. The still smoldering ruins told the fate of 
 the place. Not a log of the cabin or shed or fence 
 was left to tell there had once been a hospitable little 
 
 8 
 
86 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 home there. There were blood marks on the ground 
 leading to the river. Tennessee, with a beating heart, 
 traced them to the water's edge, and found lodged 
 against a snag the body of Rose's horse. Tad had 
 fought, that was certain. He must have seen the 
 enemy before they crossed the river, and given fight. 
 Tad could do that, but what was the noble fellow's 
 fate? Tennessee refused to answer the question he 
 had raised, but he hoped the best, for if coolness, 
 courage, strength, swiftness of foot, and a knowledge 
 of the country would avail, Tad would turn up all 
 right. 
 
 Tennessee turned away from the ruin, and crossing 
 the river at another point, he plunged into the woods, 
 and, with no trail to guide him, he struck a bee-line 
 for Marshall. Before dark he rested in a strip of woods 
 within sight of the town, and examined and reloaded 
 his arms. He took off his long boots, replacing them 
 with a pair of moccasins, then fastened a buckskin 
 band around his head, and threw his heavy flaxen hair 
 behind his ears. 
 
 " Gus, ole boy," he said kindly, addressing his horse, 
 " I reckon yeh'U have to stay here alone. Maybe I 
 won't see yeh no more, an' maybe yeh'U have ter do 
 some tall runnin' to-night. But yer a good ole fel, 
 sartin. Thar's no better boss in these diggius than 
 you, Gus." This was said while taking off the saddle 
 and bridle. "Graze roun' here till to-night, an' if 
 I don't come back afore mornin', Gus, yer a free nig- 
 ger. Thar, go !" 
 
 Gus walked off a few steps, lay down against a lit- 
 tle knoll, as horses always do, and tried to roll up it. 
 He made several able but unsuccessful attempts, then 
 
TENNESSEE OVERPOWERED. 87 
 
 giving the job up as impracticable, he soon shook 
 himself, rubbed his nose against his master's arm, 
 and, like a sensible horse, went to feeding. 
 
 Placing his equipments where he could find them 
 readily, under cover of the darkness, Tennessee, with 
 the cautious step of a deer stalker, walked toward the 
 town. He was within ten yards of his own little 
 house, so far unobserved, and his heart began to 
 throb with anxiety. Suddenly a number of men 
 sprang to their feet around him with savage yells, 
 while high above all the voice of Rose was heard 
 shouting — 
 
 " Thar he is, cuss him ! Shoot him ! cut him to 
 pieces !" 
 
 Tennessee struck the nearest man to him to the 
 ground with his clubbed rifle, and the others fell back 
 before a second sweep. 
 
 " Don't fire boys, don't fire !" said Rose, it'll bring 
 the rest of the pack here ef yeh do. We can finish 
 him without much noise." 
 
 "Wall now. Rose," said Tennessee, " if you an' the 
 allfired skunks aroun' yeh think they're agoin' to 
 chaw me up without a fuss, yeh ain't much on the 
 calculate. By the ghost of G-eneral Jackson, if you 
 'uns come one at a time, I'll fight the whole on yeh." 
 
 Tennessee loosed the flaps of the pistols in his belt 
 and drew himself up to his full height. He had not 
 long to wait, for in a body the whole gang rushed 
 upon him with uplifted weapons and horrible oaths. 
 Tennessee fired his pistols, and then clubbed his rifle, 
 and they gave way before it. He heard a cheer in 
 the distance and was nerved, for he felt friends near 
 at hand. He tried to get back to the house, but a 
 
88 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 powerful blow from behind, and a shot from the front, 
 brought him senseless to the gi'ound. His death 
 would have been certain and instant had not the 
 sound of the fight brought out a woman, who bore in 
 her hand a hatchet. She rushed to the place where 
 the fallen man lay bleeding, and with a terrible blow 
 felled Rose to the ground, and then standing over 
 the body of Tennessee, she shouted her hate and de- 
 fiance of the cowards who had tried to kill her hus- 
 band. 
 
 The arrival of a large body of more peacefully in- 
 clined citizens stopped further bloodshed, though, to 
 appease the anger of the mob, as well as to satisfy the 
 apparent justice of the charge that Tennessee had 
 killed a man the previous evening, he was carefully 
 guarded to prison, notwithstanding there was no 
 necessity of guarding an unconscious man who had to 
 be carried to the jail. 
 
 Tennessee's wife begged to stay with her husband, 
 but her prayers were unheeded, and the body was 
 thrown into a dark cell, and the door locked. 
 
 Next morning Tennessee awoke as if from a terrible 
 dream. His clothing was fastened to the floor with his 
 clotted blood. His head seemed bursting with pain, and 
 his hair was stiff, and sore to the touch. One arm was 
 swollen and powerless, and a burning thirst seemed to 
 consume him. He could not rise, and while he lay 
 trying to recollect his thoughts, and the incidents of 
 the previous evening, a man came in with some bread 
 and water, and promised to bring a doctor to see the 
 prisoner in the coiu-se of the morning. After taking 
 a long cooling drink, Tennessee felt stronger, and sit- 
 ting up he poured the rest of the water on his head 
 
THE CAPTIVE IN PRISON. 89 
 
 and face, and it gave him new strength. He rose and 
 struggled to the little window, through the iron bars 
 of which the dim grey light shone, and the damp 
 chilling wind blew. 
 
 He looked out, and in an instant he seemed to gi'ow 
 faint, and with his sound arm he clutched at a bar for 
 support. 
 
 *' My God !" he cried in a voice of intense agony, 
 " Its rainin', its rainin' ! Oh the flood, the flood, an' 
 the island !" 
 
 He felt a s-wdmming sensation in his head, and fell 
 fainting to the floor. 
 
 His cry brought in the jailor, and with the assist- 
 ance of a kind-hearted doctor, who arrived shortly 
 after, Tennessee's bruises were washed, and he was 
 restored to consciousness. He had hardly opened his 
 eyes, when he asked : 
 
 "Has the rain stopped, or is it rainin*, or is it my 
 head?" 
 
 *'It is raining, Tennessee," said the jailor. "I 
 reckon we're in for the flood, sure enough." 
 
 The wounded man sprang to his feet, and looked 
 out through the bars, and he saw the rain coming 
 down in torrents, and heard it beating against the 
 prison wall. His face was deathly pale, and he turned 
 to the jailor. 
 
 "Mr. Roberts, for Grod's sake let me out for eight 
 hours, an' I'll come back, and let yeh hang me, if yeh 
 want ter. Let me out ! Thar's three men on an island 
 in the lakes ; T took them thar. Oh, God ! let me 
 out, or they'll be drownded ! Roberts, let me go ! I'll 
 keep my word, true as Heaven. I'll come back." 
 
 "I can't let you go, Tennessee. It ain't in ray 
 8* 
 
DO "WAEREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 power. And if the three men are those fellers that 
 Rose chased, why, if they're drowned, it'll save their 
 bein' hanged." 
 
 " You must let me go. By the eternal, ten thousand 
 men can't keep me back !" 
 
 Tennessee's eyes glowed as he sprang to the door. 
 Roberts tried to stop him, but he rushed past him. 
 The doctor fled at the first sight of Tennessee's eyes, 
 and called loudly for help. Tennessee got down to the 
 yard. He saw a man before him with a gun, and he 
 heard him err, "Stop!" but did not heed him. His 
 wound started bleeding, the blood blinded him, and 
 as he rushed madly for the gate, the guard struck 
 him, and he fell. 
 
 When Tennessee recovered he was back in his cell, 
 with chains upon his legs, and a man standing at the 
 cell door with a gun in his hand. He rose and looked 
 out. The rain was still pouring do\sTi as if it would 
 never cease. There he stood for hours, and every 
 drop against the bars sunk into his heart like molten 
 iron. He felt the room growing hot, and the veins in his 
 neck swelling. He opened his shirt collar, and gasped 
 for breath. Then he seized the bar again and shook 
 it. It seemed loose, and a thrill of joy ran through 
 him, as, with a madman's strength, he tore it from its 
 socket, and then seized another ; but before he could 
 do more, he was seized from behind, and his hands 
 fastened to the chain which bound his legs. He sat 
 on the floor listening to the cruel rain against the 
 bars, and muttering, " The flood, the flood !" 
 
 Night came, and still the chained man sat on the 
 floor, and the armed man watched outside the cell. 
 
 "I'm not a traitor. I didn't deceive yeh ; 'fore 
 
TENNESSEE CONDEMNED. fln 
 
 God, I meant to help yeli." Tennessee was raving. 
 "Don't cuss me so. I'd die, to save yeh. I'd let the 
 wolves eat my heart out if I could get yeh off! I 
 see the water is gittin' higher. It's up to yer throats, 
 and the island's flooded ! Thar, the hosses is swim- 
 min' , an' the men's holdin outer the shanty logs ! 
 How dark it is ! They can't stan' that long. Oh, 
 God, let me die now, so I kin tell 'em up thar it 
 wasn't my blame !" 
 
 The strong man groaned and swayed himself on 
 the floor. His mutterings grew less distinct as the 
 night waned. He imagined he saw the alligators 
 eating the bodies of the fugitives, and the buzzards 
 perched on the dead horses. 
 
 Tennessee suffered with a brain fever and his wounds 
 for three weeks. When he recovered he was but a 
 shadow of his former self. His beard and hair had 
 been cut off*, his blue eyes were sunken in his head, 
 and his sallow skin was drawn like parchment over 
 his once powerful frame. 
 
 After he was restored to consciousness, his wife and 
 children were permitted to see him, and at their first 
 interview even the jailor, whose heart was not the 
 tenderest, was melted to tears. Tennessee's wife was 
 permitted to visit him every day, till he got strong 
 enough for trial ; and that judicial farce was the same 
 in the case of Tennessee as in that of hundreds who 
 were sacri^ced that sprjng in Texas. 
 
 Six others were tried v/ith him, accused of every 
 crime, and found guilty of but one — treason to the 
 confederacy. People grew as familiar vvith the sen- 
 tence of death as in the reign of teiTor in France. 
 
 Many of those condemned at Marshall, as in other 
 
9S WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 parts of Texas, died with their own hands, rather 
 than be executed on the gallows. Tennessee's wife, 
 who was permitted to see her husband the day after 
 his sentence, and two days before the time set apart 
 for his execution, proposed to bring him laudanum, 
 thinking, in heart, it would be better for her husband 
 to die by his own hands ; but the brave fellow replied : 
 
 " Bet, yell means right, I know ; and I'm sure, ole 
 gal, yeh'd peg out yersel' to save me ; but I can't do 
 this." 
 
 " Yes, Jim, I'd give my heart's blood to keep yeh 
 livin* a day, for God knows what I'll do when yeh're 
 gone. But others do it, Jim ; an' I don't want the 
 young un' s, when they grow up, to have it said their 
 dad ^YVI2. hung," said Tennessee's wife. 
 
 "You bet," replied Tennessee, "and I don't want 
 it cas' up ter the young 'uns that their dad wuz a cow- 
 ard. I know, Bet, other fel's have tuk laudnum, but 
 d — d if it ain't a sneakin' way of gittin' rid of 
 trouble. Then, Bet, I want yeh to keep the young 
 *uns posted about another worl'. I've thought rite 
 smart 'bout it uv late, an' if I've got ter die, fact is, 
 I don't want the Great Mausser to boost me fur killin* 
 mysel'." 
 
 Bet held down her head and clasped her strong, 
 coarse hands before her, but uttered no groan or sob. 
 For several minutes there was a solemn silence in the 
 condemned man's cell ; then slowly she raised her 
 head, and looking into her husband's eyes with a wild 
 earnestness, she said in a strong whisper : 
 
 " Jim, ain't it wuth while ter try gittin' off? Yeh 
 know yeh did that once when the 'Bapahoes had jest 
 got ready to kill yeh," 
 
A GLEAM OF HOPE. 93 
 
 "Now, ole woman, yer head's gittin' level," said 
 Tennessee, with a genuine smile. "That's the idea. 
 "Why, yeh knows. Bet, I ain't one of them fellers as 
 jist gins out. When I git like that, yeh may bet yer 
 pile thar wont be no use tryin'." 
 
 " Wall, Jim, I wuz a loon not ter see that. Now, 
 have yeh any plan, an' kin I help yeh? Say yes, an' 
 don't count my risk." 
 
 " Wall, I reckon yeh kin do purty near all. Yeh 
 got my saddle an' things all right, an' foun' Gus?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Wall, that's good. Now, Sam Baker an' Joe 
 Thompson an' me has things fixed to bust this shanty 
 to-morrow night, 'bout twelve. I'll git out, or die 
 tryin', that's fixed. Now, Bet, yeh mus' have Grus an' 
 all my traps, rifle and knife, at Diller's Run. An' yeh 
 mus' git two more bosses. Tell Alick Taylor all 'bout 
 it, an' he'll help yeh. An', ole gal, hang on thar till 
 day, if I don't come." 
 
 Bet promised to do this, and was about to leave, as 
 the jailor appeared, when she asked Tennessee if she 
 could do anything more for him : " Yes, Bet, ole gal, 
 as I've only short time to live, bring the young 'uns to 
 see me to-morrow — little Bet, and the Ginral, and Cap 
 May. The yoimg un's are hard to beat, Bet ; an' I 
 want the boys to see -their father ain't a coward." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 ON THE ISLAND. 
 
 In this story there is no plot ; it proposes to be sim- 
 ply a narrative of a genuine hero, well knowTi to the 
 writer. But it is found necessary, in order to keep 
 before the reader those persons in whom he or she 
 may be interested, to vary the chapters by giving the 
 cotemporaneous incidents in the life of each at this 
 time. 
 
 After Tennessee had left the island, the fugitives 
 for a time were interested in the novelty of their sit- 
 uation, and they were busy in their efforts to make 
 the cabin as comfortable as possible. Archy had a 
 bom genius for cooking and making a few simple ar- 
 ticles of food seem a bountiful variety. While Rob- 
 ert and Graines were fixing places for their beds, and 
 cleaning their arms, a dinner was being prepared in 
 keeping vriih the keen appetites of all. 
 
 After dinner, Robert and Gaines wrote letters to 
 the dear ones at home ; not that there appeared to be 
 at the time the faintest hope of their ever reaching 
 those for whom they were penned — indeed, both men 
 felt very sure the letters would never be mailed — yet, 
 on the gloomy island, shut out from the world, the 
 impulse to wTite was strong. There are times in every 
 
THE INPENDING STORM. 95 
 
 life when the heart is full of joy or sorrow, and when 
 the whispering of oiu- feelings to a friendly ear, or the 
 penning of them to a distant friend, eases the burdened 
 soul. Though friends may not hear us, it is a pleas- 
 ure to whisper to ourselves what we would say were 
 they near ; and though they never read what may be 
 written, it rests the heart to wTite what we would have 
 them read. 
 
 Toward evening Kobert and Gaines shouldered their 
 rifles, and leaving Archy to watch the horses, they 
 strolled to the point where Tennessee thought they 
 might find game. They were successful in killing a 
 number of ducks and other birds, and in obtaining a 
 better knowledge of the island. At its highest point 
 it was not four feet above the present lake level, and 
 a slight rise in the waters would not only submerge 
 the island, but also the opposite shores of the lake, 
 equally flat, and convert two hundred square miles of 
 country, ordinarily dry, into a shallow, muddy lake, 
 across which no animal could wade. Robert Warren 
 felt the danger of his position, and at the same time 
 he did not blame himself for being there, nor doubt 
 for an instant the fidelity of Tennessee. 
 
 Gaines appeared cast down, and as they returned to 
 the cabin his eyes were often raised to the sky, over 
 which clouds, black and threatening, began to gather. 
 Entering the cabin they found Archy singing and 
 cheerfully preparing the evening meal. 
 
 By 8 o'clock it was pitchy dark, and a low, wailii^.g 
 sound came down from the cypress boughs, Kobert 
 opened the door, and taking a torch went out to see 
 if the horses were all right, for they had been tramp- 
 ing restlessly, and tugging at their lariats. By the 
 
96 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 dim light of the torch he could see the cypress boughs 
 above the cabin waving, although no air appeared to 
 be stirring, and the long, grey moss, pendent from the 
 branches, swayed back and forth like weird plumes. 
 The dismal effect was increased as at times the shrill 
 scream of a heron came up from the gloomy shores. 
 Robert returned to the cabin, where a huge fire was 
 burning, before which Gaines and Archy were silently 
 sitting. Taking a seat between them, he assumed a 
 cheerful tone, and said : 
 
 *' We ought to be thankful for having shelter over 
 our heads to-night, for we will have a gulf squall, 
 which won't last long, but they are unpleasant to be 
 out in, nevertheless." 
 
 "I don't like our position, Robert," said Gaines, 
 raising his head from between his hands. " This is 
 the flood season, and the waters may rise at any hour. 
 Supposing we were to perish on this island, who would 
 ever know the fact, beyond the man who brought us 
 here, or his partner. Tad?" 
 
 " Mauss Andy, said xArcLy, ceasing to make figures 
 in the ashes with the wooden poker, " de good Lor* 
 would know it. He watches ober us, an' w^ill protec* 
 us wid His mighty arms. An' I don't tink, nohow. He 
 fotched us har to be drownded." 
 
 *'That may be, Archy," replied Gaines, "but God 
 has often seen fit to place better men in worse positions.'* 
 
 " Yes, Mauss Andy, an' He fotched de chillen from 
 de fiery furnace, jes' as if thar'd been no fiah thar.'* 
 
 *' TVell, Archy, I think it will require a similar mir- 
 acle to save us." 
 
 Robert started up and again looked out, remarking 
 as he did : 
 
NEAKER AND NEARER. 97 
 
 "I don't think that man Tennessee would have 
 brought us here if there were any immediate danger 
 from the flood. He knoAvs the country, and he is not 
 so far distant that he could not return in a few hours, 
 if he thought we were not safe." 
 
 As Robert gazed out his words for the moment fal- 
 sified his fears. 
 
 *'That man maybe honest, Robert," said Gaines, 
 *' and he may not. If a scoundrel, why has he trapped 
 us? and we are as safely caged as if ten thousand 
 men were guarding us." 
 
 "Well, Graines, all that is possible," said Robert, 
 " and if true, that man Tennessee is a paradox, and 
 I cannot conceive such a contradiction." Then with 
 more emphasis he continued, "I will not permit my- 
 self to believe it ; even though we perish on this 
 island, I will still believe Tennessee faithful to us." 
 
 "Neber yeh feah, Mauss Robut, we'se a comin* 
 out right. Why, Mauss Tennessee'U come back 
 bimeby, an' larf at us fur 'spectin' him." 
 
 Again the three men gathered around the fire, 
 while louder and louder came the wailing from the 
 cypress boughs, and at times a pattering could be 
 heard on the clap-boards overhead, and the restless 
 tramping of the horses outside. Archy broke the 
 silence in the cabin by singing in a voice of peculiar 
 sweetness one of those religious songs so often heard 
 among the negroes on southern plantations. When 
 he had finished, the two white men rose and together 
 stretched themselves on the bed they had prepared 
 in the corner, and despite the screeching of the winds 
 they were soon sleeping soundly. 
 
 Archy still sat by the fire, resting his face between 
 d 
 
08 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 his hands, and thinking of the little cabin far away 
 in Gonzelletta. His lips moved as if praying, and at 
 times the words came in whispers, "Heah de prayer, 
 Lor', heah de prayer ! Oh, sabe Mauss Robut ! Good 
 Lor', sabe him." So till midnight he sat ; till the 
 winds grew hoarse with their wailing and roared in 
 anger around the cabin. Archy was about to lie 
 down, but suddenly the wind stopped as if for rest. 
 The sleepers grew restless under the stillness, and 
 outside the horses crowded together as if to shelter 
 each other from the coming storm. So it continued 
 for some twenty minutes. Then came a rushing 
 sound, louder and louder. It rose like a prelude to 
 nature's grandest opera, the coming storm. A flash 
 lit up the cabin for an instant ; then, as if a signal to 
 commence, a sharp, stirring report belched out. A 
 moment, and along the sky ran the rattle as if from 
 lines of giant musketry. Deeper and thicker came 
 the firing ; but it seemed like a skirmish line com- 
 pared to the deep reverberations that followed. The 
 thunder ceased. Then came a gust of wind that 
 shook the cabin — an instant of ominous stillness — a 
 rushing sound — then down in torrents poured the 
 loosened waters. 
 
 The sleepers started wildly up. Gaines's face was 
 the picture of terror, and Warren's thin lips were 
 pale and compressed. Robert opened the door and 
 looked out in the direction of the horses. It was 
 but for an instant ; then with all his strength he 
 pushed it to, and fastened it with a peg, while a 
 shudder ran through him. 
 
 "This is terrible,'* he said, as he pulled on his 
 boots, and directed Archy to throw some wood on the 
 
THE TEMPEST ON. 99 
 
 fire. The additional fuel was of no avail. Through 
 the wide-topped chimney the rain came down, and 
 soon extinguished the fire and filled the darkened 
 cabin with steam. Here and there a pattering could 
 be heard on the floor, where the water came through 
 the frail roof. The three men crept close together, 
 and anxiously waited for the tardy light. 
 
 It is said that in the afternoon at Waterloo, when 
 the sweeping masses of the French went surging 
 around and grinding down the stubborn squares of 
 *' England's Iron Duke," he often looked up at the 
 Blow sun, and prayed it might go down, or Blucher 
 come to the rescue. With as much anxiety did Rob- 
 ert Warren count the slow, black minutes, and pray 
 for the breaking of day or the ceasing of the storm. 
 Morning at last dawned, but brought with it no 
 cessation of the rain. The cabin was leaking at 
 every seam, and every article in it was soaked with 
 water. The Mexican blankets of the fugitives kept 
 them dry in part. They had no food cooked, and no 
 means of cooking any, which fact did not add to the 
 comfort of their situation. 
 
 "We must leave this place immediately," said 
 Robert. " If we are to go down, we must do so re- 
 sisting fate." 
 
 "Mus' I saddle up at once, Mauss Robert?" asked 
 Archy, anticipating his master's order. 
 
 "Yes, as quickly as you can. Mr. Gaines and I 
 will bundle up the traps inside." Tmiiing to Gaines, 
 Robert asked if he thought he could retrace his 
 course of the previous day across the lake. 
 
 »'No, I cannot," said Gaines, -for I did not look 
 back to notice, when we reached this side, a landmark." 
 
100 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Well, I did," said Eobert, "and I think I can 
 make the exact point on the opposite shore where we 
 entered the lake." 
 
 In a short time the horses were read}-, and the men 
 were riding away from the cabin. The island had 
 become so thoroughly soaked that the horses sank to 
 their knees at every step, and stumbled through mud- 
 holes that would have swamped less spirited animals. 
 They passed through the margin of the canebrake, 
 and, with Robert ahead, they were soon wading among 
 the cypress trees, and steering clear of the floating 
 logs that beset their course. They had gone about 
 five hundred yards, beyond the tree line, when sud- 
 denly Robert's horse descended, and with wild 
 struggles was plunging through the deep water. Be- 
 fore him for two miles stretched the lake, too deep to 
 wade and too wide to swim. To attempt it would be 
 madness, so he turned his horse and shouted, " Get 
 back ! get back ! We can't make it." And back to 
 the cabin they retraced their steps. 
 
 They took the horses inside with them, and all day 
 they stood praying for the rain to cease, but with a 
 steady fury it continued, and a second cheerless night 
 came to the fugitives. 
 
 Slowly the hours rolled by, bringing no abatement 
 to the storm. A second morning struggled through 
 the gloom, and disclosed the flood sweeping around 
 the cabin, and the green field converted into a turbid 
 lake. 
 
 "What shall we do?" asked Gaines in a tremulous 
 voice, after they had siu^^eyed their position in silence. 
 
 "We must do,'* replied Robert, "what you and I 
 have often done before on the Brazos — make a raft. 
 
A PLAN TO ESCAPE. 101 
 
 There is plenty of material here. "We can construct 
 one to float ourselves and hold up the horses' heads, 
 in case they give out." 
 
 "That may be. But, Robert, where can we go to? 
 The whole country is flooded. The horses are too 
 much exhausted to swim far, and we are too nearly 
 played out to do much controlling of the raft." 
 
 *' That is all true, Gaines, but it is our only plan. If 
 the horses die, we can cut them loose ; and if w^e get 
 too much exhausted to work the raft, we must trust to 
 Providence and the current to take us somewhere in 
 safety.'' 
 
 There was no objection to this plan, so the men 
 were soon at work on the raft. 
 
 They tore dow^n the cabin, and w-ith Tennessee's 
 seine ropes fastened the logs together. They then 
 tore up the floor and nailed the cypress slabs com- 
 posing it over the logs. Three stakes were fastened, 
 about two feet apart, at the end of the raft, to which 
 they could attach the horses. After preparing the 
 raft and placing all their equipments on it, Archy 
 waded out to the timber and cut a couple of long 
 poles with which to guide the raft. 
 
 Everything being ready, the horses were made fast, 
 
 and the three men sat down on the raft to wait for a 
 
 gi-eater depth of w^ater to float them. By noon the 
 
 water was sufficiently high, and the raft was guided 
 
 out to the canebrake. Through the cypress trees 
 
 they floated, and as the water deepened the ropes by 
 
 which the horses were fastened were made shorter. 
 
 Out further, and the horses w^ere beyond their depth, 
 
 and with explosive breathings and dilated nostrils 
 
 they swam close to the raft, as if they would force 
 a* 
 
102 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 themselves on it. The poles, however, still touched 
 bottom, and Robert and his servant used them while 
 Gaines kept the horses close to the raft and attended 
 to their fastenings. 
 
 They floated with the open lake, the rain still pour- 
 ing down, and night approaching. The poles no 
 longer touched bottom ; they used them for padcUes, 
 and the distant shore seemed washing away before 
 them. The exertions of the horses lessened, and 
 Gaines's, without an effort, permitted himself to be 
 towed behind. Slowly they moved, quickly the light 
 lessened, and a third black, dreary night Qame to the 
 famishing men, to increase the horror of their situa- 
 tion. 
 
 It might have been two hours after the darkness 
 came — it seemed an age — when the rafl struck against 
 a tree, then slowly swung past. Another and another 
 bump, and they were going through the cypress trees, 
 that should denote a neighboring shore. A short 
 distance further and they felt the raft moving over 
 masses of yielding cane. The men at the poles 
 v/orked with renewed strength. Two of the horses 
 with labored efforts waded behind. The raft struck 
 some soft substance with a dull thug. Archy turned 
 and drove his pole into a bank of clay, and with a 
 shout of joy he called out : 
 
 "Bress de good Lor' ! Bress Heaven, we's saved !" 
 
 Jumping on shore he quickly made fast the raft, 
 while Robert and Gaines unfastened the horses. Two 
 of them staggered up the bank, but the wiry mustang 
 of Gaines, which had borne him so often and faith- 
 fully on the southern prairies, sank cold and dead 
 when they loosed his rope. 
 
CHAPTEE XI, 
 
 SAVED, AND YET LOST. 
 
 The breeding of a horse is tested, not by momen- 
 tary strength or swiftness, but by the power of endur- 
 ance. The thorough-breds of Warren and his servant 
 lived where other horses would have died. The ex- 
 pressions of love which Archy lavished on the noble 
 creatures, as they stood on the muddy bank, the w^a- 
 ter dripping from their sleek sides, showed how he 
 appreciated their efforts, and what a loss their death 
 would have been to him. 
 
 After resting the horses a short time, and making 
 the raft fast so that they might retura to it if neces- 
 sary, they strapped then- saddle-bags, with Gaines's 
 equipments, on the two animals, and started out 
 through the darkness. The men were thoroughly ex- 
 hausted, but there was no place for rest. They were 
 as ignorant of their whereabouts as if they had been 
 suddenly dropped on an unknown planet. They might 
 be running into the very jaws of danger, but even 
 that was preferable to the horrors of the lake. 
 Through the dark woods and the damp pendent moss, 
 over logs and under vines they walked, straining their 
 eyes through the darkness, hoping for a light. They 
 had stmggled on in this way for some time, when sud 
 
101 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 denly they ran against a fence, and this unex- 
 pected obstacle was hailed v.ith delight. Letting it 
 do\Mi, they entered a newly-plowed field, and after 
 rising a slight ascent a few hundred yards beyond, 
 their eyes were gladdened by the faint glimmering of 
 a distant light. They pushed on, their weary limbs 
 infused with a new strength, and in a short time 
 reached another fence, which they let down, taking 
 care to put it up after passing through. A little dis- 
 tance beyond they found that the light came from one 
 of an extensive gi'oup of negro cabins. Robert rap- 
 ped at the door, and on its being opened he found a 
 sick black man lying in one comer, with a doctor in 
 attendance, whose large, frank face bespoke a gener- 
 ous heart. 
 
 To him they made known their condition ; they had 
 lost their way ; they were wet, cold, and hungry, and 
 wanted food and rest. Never did a stranger make 
 such an appeal to a southern man without meeting 
 with a warm response. 
 
 The doctor told them they were at Bastrop's plan- 
 tation, three miles and a half from the lake, and 
 northwest of Shreveport. 
 
 " I supposed that w^as our location as we passed 
 Shreveport," said Robert ; "but I must say, I cannot 
 place myself with relation to Marshall." 
 
 "Why," said the doctor in surprise, "you were not 
 surely going to Marshall ? Is is forty miles from here 
 as the crow flies, and in the present condition of the 
 roads you would have to go over tw^ice that distance 
 to reach it." 
 
 "No, I left Marshall some days ago, and after 
 passing Shreveport I pushed out on the Monroe road. 
 
TRUE SOUTHERN HOSPITALITT. 105 
 
 I hoped to reach some tavern by dark, but so far 
 without success. Important business calls me to 
 Kentucky, and I am anxious to push through as fast 
 as possible." 
 
 "Well, you are but a short -distance off the direct 
 road. But let us go to the house ; Mr. Bastrop has 
 not yet retired, and I can say for him that he will be 
 right glad to see you, and extend to you his hospi- 
 tality." 
 
 On reaching the house they found that the family 
 had not yet retired. Mr. Bastrop, an elderly and 
 somewhat pompous man, with a fine form and a ge- 
 nial face, received the strangers with marked kind- 
 ness. He gave directions, even before he learned 
 the condition of the fugitives, to have their horses 
 attended to and supper prepared. Nor did the 
 thoughtful gentleman forget Archy, for, seeing that 
 the black man looked fatigued, he ordered a servant 
 to take chcg-ge of him, and see that he had food and 
 rest. Then accompanying Robert and Gaines to a 
 room, he provided them with dry clothing, and after 
 a refreshing wash, the two men returned to the sup- 
 per room, where they found a warm meal awaiting 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Bastrop, after Robert had given him a short, 
 but by no means inaccurate account of the circum- 
 stances that led them to his house, evidenced a desire 
 to talk, but noticing the really exhausted condition 
 of his guests, he turned to the doctor and said : 
 
 *' Our friends are weary, I see. Now, doctor, I am 
 sure they need prescribing for ; I will have them shown 
 to their rooms and we can consult over their cases 
 alone." 
 
106 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Lights were quickly provided, and Robert and 
 Gaines followed the servant to their comfortable beds. 
 It was a luxury, after sixty hours of work, and wet, 
 and hunger, and anxiety, to lie down between clean 
 sheets, on a soft bed, and listen without a dr^ad to 
 the patter, patter, patter, of the ceaseless rain which 
 a few hours before sounded like a death-call. 
 
 Robert straightened out in the bed and gave a great 
 sigh of relief, at the same time that a servant knocked 
 at the door, and being told to " come in," he entered 
 bearing a small silver waiter, around which hovered 
 a vail-like vapor, and a delicious aroma. There was 
 a glass with a spoon in it, and sundry yellow particles 
 floating on the surface. 
 
 " Mausser," said the servant, showing his white 
 teeth, "Mauss Jack an de doctah sends dis wid dere 
 compelments, an says it am de medicine, an' it ain't 
 no good 'cept yeh drink it hot." 
 
 Robert raised the glass and took a long draught. 
 There was something about the taste not unlike Tad's 
 ^'suthin hot," only in a more refined way. The med- 
 icine was taken. Robert drew the warm covering 
 around him ; a gentle perspiration broke from every 
 pore, and deep, refreshing sleep came to make him 
 forgetful of his lately perilous situation. 
 
 How long he w^ould have slept is doubtful had not 
 a servant av/oke him about daylight, and, according 
 to the charming custom of the country, presented 
 him a cup of delicious coffee. He drank it, and a 
 soft, dreamy sleep foUovred, that lasted till nine o'clock. 
 
 Robert rose of his own accord, feeling like a new 
 man, and on descending he found breakfast waiting 
 him. Gaines was still asleep, and Mr. Bastrop, in 
 
HAPPY DISCOVERT. 107 
 
 answer to Robert's suggestion to wake him, said, 
 *' No ; the poor fellow is tired ; let him sleep as long 
 as he chooses." 
 
 Mr. Bastrop then introduced Robert to his wife and 
 daughters, and proceeded to breakfast. During the 
 meal he said : 
 
 " Mr. "Warren, your name is very familiar to me. 
 May I inquire where you came from?" 
 
 *' Certainly, sir," replied Robert. "My father and 
 his immediate family live in southern Texas, and I 
 am on my v/ay to Kentucky to visit an uncle who re- 
 sides there." 
 
 "Is your father's first name Robert, and did he 
 come originally from South Carolina ?" 
 
 "You have hit his name, sir; and he is a South 
 Carolinian by birth," said Robert, looking up in surprise. 
 
 " Then," said Mr. Bastrop, seizing Robert's hand 
 across the table, "your father and I were college 
 chums, and sworn friends in days gone past. Why,'* 
 continued Mr. Bastrop, with increased warmth, "I 
 am delighted to have a son of Bob "Warren under 
 my roof, and T hope to be able to keep him here till 
 he wearies of his father's friend." 
 
 Robert looked and spoke his thanks, but told Mr. 
 Bastrop that he regretted he would have to leave 
 as soon as his friend and servant were recruited and 
 the horses rested. 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Warren, you have all your father's en- 
 ergy, and look like him, too ; don't you think so, 
 Mollie," addressing the daughter who sat near him. 
 
 Miss Mollie, who had never seen the father, and 
 had only stolen a glance at the son, blushed as she 
 replied : 
 
108 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "It must be so, papa, though I regret I never met 
 Mr. Warren's Either." 
 
 "Yes, to be sure. But, wife, you have," and Mr. 
 Bastrop turned to his wife, who, taking a pleasant 
 look at Mr. Warren, corroborated her husband's 
 view. 
 
 "Well," continued Mr. Bastrop, "you will not 
 think of leaving under a week, for, depend upon it, 
 Mr. Warren, you will need all your vigor in the com- 
 ing war for southern rights." Mr. Bastrop looked at 
 Robert, who was busy with some dish before him, and 
 went on : " Of course, I need not ask your father's 
 son on which side his sympathies are. Though I 
 must say, Robert Warren was never a Calhoun man, 
 nor, indeed, was I, though we both see now that the 
 great South Carolinian was right " 
 
 " You have not mistaken the feelings of my father 
 nor myself in this matter, Mr. Bastrop, so far as 
 southern rights are concerned ; but we both question 
 the wisdom of secession. I think it would be easier 
 to battle for our rights in the Union as statesmen, 
 than to attempt a forced recognition of them by the 
 bayonet." 
 
 "I did not favor the movement of South Carolina 
 myself. But we are in for it. However, I do not 
 anticipate trouble. There will be no war, Mr. War- 
 ren. Say what we may about the Yankees, we can- 
 not • deny their shrewdness, and they know full well 
 they would stand no chance before southern gentle- 
 men." As Mr. Bastrop spoke, he straightened up in 
 his chair, and his handsome face glowed with earnest- 
 ness as he concluded : "As an old man I have been 
 happy till the last few weeks, and now, Mr. Warren, 
 
A GUARDED TONGUE. 109 
 
 I would give up everything to be able to take part in 
 the war, if we are to have one." 
 
 "I certainly admire your spirit, Mr. Bastrop, and I 
 hope the cause of your unhappiness will soon be 
 shown to be groundless, by having all our rights con- 
 ceded and all our difficulties peacefully arranged." 
 
 Robert kept up this guarded conversation with Mr. 
 Bastrop till nearly noon, when he joined the ladies, 
 whom he found to be elegant and accomplished. 
 Knowing the tenor of the morning's conversation, 
 they delicately dropped it, and Robert Warren was 
 entertained by the brilliant conversation for which 
 the educated southern ladies are remarkable. 
 
 A little before dinner Gaines came down, looking 
 like a different man, and showing great surprise when 
 informed of the number of hours he had been 
 asleep. 
 
 After dinner, Robert walked out and found that 
 though the sky was still black, it had stopped raining. 
 He saw Archy, who appeared as fresh as ever, and 
 who informed him that the horses were "as smart 
 and dry as if dey'd neber had water 'bove dere 
 hoofs." 
 
 Returning to the house he announced to Mr. Bas- 
 trop his determination to start immediately on his 
 journey. The kind-hearted gentleman and his ami- 
 able family tried to change Robert's mind, but seeing 
 that he was positive, they did everything to make his 
 departure pleasant. He found his clothing clean and 
 dried, and the articles that had been left in his saddle- 
 bags washed and nicely folded. 
 
 *'My friend, Mr. Gaines," said Robert, addressing 
 the kind host, " lost his horse, as I informed you last 
 10 
 
110 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 evening. We desire to purchase another. Can you 
 tell me, INIr. Bastrop, where we can be accommo- 
 dated ?" 
 
 "Buy a horse!" said Mr. Bastrop in surprise. 
 •'Bob Warren's son buy a horse from me ! I have a 
 great notion to hold on to you till your recent cold 
 chill has wholly left your heart." 
 
 Robert laughed as he said : "But, Mr. Bastrop, I 
 did not propose to buy one from you. I will get one 
 at some neighbor's if you will direct me." 
 
 It was now Mr. Bastrop's turn to laugh. "Why, 
 my nearest neighbor lives four miles from here, and 
 he has plenty of mules, but no horses, to sell." Then, 
 changing his tone, Mr. Bastrop continued: "Serious- 
 ly, Mr. Warren, there are a dozen horses in my stables. 
 Let your friend take his choice. And if you have 
 any compunctions about the gift, let me say, that 
 were it not for the aid and advice of your father, I 
 would not be living to-day, and, if living, I would not 
 be worth a cent." 
 
 Mr. Bastrop spoke with emotion, and Robert ac- 
 cepted his generous offer. 
 
 By three o'clock they bade farewell to the noble 
 planter and his family, and accompanied by a guide 
 whom Mr. Bastrop sent to show them the right road, 
 they were again on their journey north. As they 
 rode along Robert called to mind the many good and 
 noble men who were rushing into the vortex of seces- 
 sion, as sheep follow their leader. 
 
CHAPTER XII, 
 
 KENTUCKY. 
 
 There was a time, not long distant, when the name 
 "Kentuckian" was a synonym for bravery, patriot- 
 ism, and hospitality, and no star shone brighter in the 
 galaxy of States' than that representing Kentucky. 
 Blessed above every section of the Union in her loca- 
 tion and natm-al advantages, her climate tempered 
 the colder air of the north with the warm winds from 
 the south, to produce an atmosphere healthy and in- 
 vigorating. Her valleys were deep and rich, and on 
 her thousand hills the finest herds in the country 
 grazed. The productions of her soil were always in 
 demand, and poverty among her sons bespoke in its 
 exception improvidence. School houses and churches 
 were scattered in nearly every section of the State, 
 and the people were famed for their honor and intelli- 
 gence. True, slavery existed there, but in a form so 
 mild ad to give all the advantages of the institution 
 to the negro, without whom the masters would have 
 been better off. But in Kentucky, as in other slave 
 States, the doctrme of State sovereignty had taken a 
 fast hold on the younger portion of the community, 
 who knew nothing of the patriotism of Clay or the 
 inflexibility of Jackson; and to uphold this idea, 
 thousands of Kentucky's best men poured out theii 
 
112 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 blood against the flag their fathers so bravely defend- 
 ed at New Orleans. Still, she was not ardent in her 
 new love, nor wholly forgetful of the old, for the his- 
 tory of western victories is the record of Kentucky 
 daring. To every sword that she sent to the South, 
 she gave a saber and two muskets to the Union. 
 
 When it was seen that war was inevitable, as a 
 State Kentucky occupied no enviable position. Di- 
 vided in her sentiments and her views of right, she 
 wavered, and while she refused aid to the Union, she 
 tried to make amends by warning the confederate sol- 
 diers from her border. Had she acted as South 
 Carolina or Massachusetts did, her veriest enemies 
 would turn with admiration and respect to the State 
 which they now jeer as the type of vacillation and 
 imbecility. Poor Kentucky ! her indecision has fully 
 established her claim to the name of "the dark and 
 bloody ground." 
 
 Yet she was and is still " the fairest land of all," 
 with her undulating hills, and her green valleys and 
 noble rivers, and homes so indicative of culture and 
 wealth. 
 
 Among those homes, set like jewels in the emerald 
 center of the *' blue-grass region," there was none 
 happier or more beautiful than that of Louis War- 
 ren, of Jessamine, situated in the most fertile part of 
 what they call "the garden spot of the world," em- 
 bowered in the primitive forest of locust, and walnut, 
 and maple, with here and there a glimpse of the clear 
 Kentucky river, like a mild eye peeping through the 
 openings. Buffalo and deer grazed with nearly their 
 primitive freedom in the grand park surrounding the 
 place. Hedges of Osage orange and the Cherokee 
 
-WARREN OF KENTUCKY. 113 
 
 rose sent up their fragrance with the perfume of 
 countless other flowers. How grand, yet cozy, that 
 old house looked, with its stately pillars in front, and 
 its score of angles, nooks, and quaint chimnies, and 
 gables behind, with patches of yellow sunlight floating 
 before it on the lawTi, and masses of rich flowers bor- 
 dering the well-kept walks. 
 
 Mr. "Warren counted his acres by thousands and his 
 servants by hundreds. He was blessed above most 
 men in wealth, and his children were the crowning 
 glory of his declining years. You might search that 
 land, famous for its noble-looking men, without find- 
 ing the physical superiors of Allen or Russell War- 
 ren. Both were just past the threshold of manhood, 
 and in addition to great prospective wealth and fine 
 persons, they had the advantage of an education in 
 the foremost college of the North. 
 
 Mr. Warren had one daughter, in every respect 
 worthy of her father and brothers. She was his 
 youngest child, bright, beautiful, and accomplished ; 
 but having lost her mother in early life, and accus- 
 tomed to having her own way, some might think, 
 who did not understand her warm heart and pure mo- 
 tives, that she was spoiled. 
 
 It was the early part of May, 1861 . Mr. Warren and 
 his family were sitting on the gallery enjoying the 
 beautiful sunset, which, from their position, could be 
 seen tipping with gold the blue hills in the distance. 
 The young men were chatting together pleasantly, and 
 smoking with the slow, languid puffs peculiar to men 
 who enjoy the weed. Miss Bell was relating some 
 amusing incident to her father, for the old gentleman 
 clajiped his hands, and they laughed in chorus, tiU th» 
 10* 
 
114 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 mirth spread to the faces of the brothers, who laughed, 
 though they knew not the cause. A servant rode up 
 the avenue, and, dismounting, handed Mr Warren the 
 mail, just brought in from Nicholasville. 
 
 The papers from Cincinnati and Louisville were 
 seized immediately by the three gentlemen. They 
 glanced rapidly over the pages, as if looking for some 
 news in which each was particularly interested. After 
 a few moments, Russell, the younger of the brothers, 
 rose quickly from his seat, and throwing up his hat 
 with boyish impetuosity, shouted out, "HuiTah for 
 Southern rights ! Why, see here, Allen, Beauregard 
 has driven every Yankee from South Carolina." 
 
 Russell turned to his brother, who never looked up 
 from the paper on which he was intent. His indiffer- 
 ence nettled Russell, who said pettishly : 
 
 "Allen, I wouldn't be as cold a toad as you for the 
 world. Why don't you help me cheer?" 
 
 "Because, Russell," said Allen, looking into his 
 brother's eyes with a pained expression, " I can see 
 nothing to cheer for." 
 
 "Nothing to cheer for?" retorted Russell with a 
 glow on his cheek. *'Is it nothing when our fellow- 
 countrymen of South Carolina assert their rights?" 
 
 *'Yes; but, brother," said Allen, slowly, "they as- 
 sert their rights, as you call it, by driving out our fel- 
 low-countrymen who have done them no wrong." 
 
 " No wrong," said Russell, in the sam^ excited tone. 
 "Why, Allen, you astound me more and more every 
 <iay. What has changed you? Has not the North 
 wronged lis by placing abolitionists in power, and 
 planning for the ruin of every slaveholder in the South." 
 
 "I don't think so. Neither you nor I have suf- 
 
THE CONFLICT OF IDEAS. 115 
 
 fered any wrong. Show me wherein Kentucky or 
 South Carolina has been injured by the people re- 
 cently elected, and I will cheer as heartily as you at 
 every reverse they meet with." 
 
 "Allen, this is simply nonsense. If I know a man 
 is sworn to injury, do you think I am going to wait 
 for him to knock me down before I put myself on the 
 defensive ?" asked Russell. 
 
 "By no means," replied Allen ; "but I would not 
 knock the man down and kick him out on the mere 
 suspicion of his evil designs ; and that is what South 
 Carolina has done, to contmue your illustration." 
 
 "Yes, and I hope Kentucky will come to her senses, 
 and wake from her sleep, and follow the example of 
 South Carolina. I, for one, am ready to fight the fa- 
 natics of the North the moment Kentucky decides." 
 
 As Russell concluded he walked to the end of the 
 gallery, and, on returning, Allen addressed him with- 
 out raising his eyes from the paper. 
 
 " Brother Russell, the day Kentucky becomes so 
 blind as to decide against the Union, I will be one 
 of her faithful sons to lead her back to the fold, and 
 I say this with the full conviction that blood must be 
 shed to do it." 
 
 Russell drew a seat near to his brother, and looked 
 at him with amazement, while Allen continued : 
 
 " This appeal to the South is simply the maturing 
 of a plan concocted by ambitious men before we were 
 bom, Russell. The North has fairly beaten us in 
 strength and resources ; she has elected a President 
 against our wish ; now let us submit, as they have 
 done heretofore, and not make our State a wedge to 
 divide the Union." 
 
116 WAREEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 *' That sounds ver} well as a piece of abstract coun- 
 sel," said Russell, assuming a critical air, "but T take 
 it there are statesmen in Kentucky whom you have 
 idolized hereiofore, who know more about the neces- 
 sity for secession than we do, and they hold the same 
 views I entertain. You voted, last fall, for John C, 
 Breckinridge, and I gave him, as you know, the first 
 vote I ever cast." 
 
 Russell looked inquiringly at his brother, and Allen 
 said: 
 
 "Yes, that is very true.'* 
 
 " Well," continued Russell, " I heard him say, in 
 a speech in Lexington yesterday, that the time had 
 come for Kentucky to take part with her sisters of 
 the South, and he advised the yoimg men to be train- 
 ing, for war would certainly come. A large number of 
 Jessamine County boys were over there, and on our re- 
 turn we organized another company of the State Guard." 
 
 *'I am still true to the principles I held when I 
 voted for Breckinridge," said Allen, " and so far as 
 he advocates the measures you have mentioned, he 
 is false to himself, and unworthy the esteem of every 
 good man." 
 
 "Brother Allen," said Bell, with pouting lips, 
 "you are a real tease. How can you talk so, when 
 ^11 the young men in the country are for the South. 
 I told Greorge "Watson, yesterday, when he talked as 
 you do, that hereafter he must have some other lis- 
 tener, for I would not come near him, and before he 
 left he promised to join tha State Guard." 
 
 "Yes, sister, your sex has played the same trick 
 before on better men," said Allen, in the same calm 
 tone that characterized everything he said. 
 
. "KENTUCKY NEUTRALITY." 117 
 
 Mr. Warren sat with anxious face listening to tlie 
 conversation of his children, but taking no part 
 therein. When Allen had concluded, the old gentle- 
 man rose, saying : 
 
 " My children, I would prefer to hear no more of 
 this. Let us enter the house, and find some more 
 profitable occupation. It pains me to hear such talk, 
 where we have had love and happiness heretofore." 
 
 On entering the parlor the hot-headed Kussell 
 again broke out with : 
 
 " Father, you know the South is right, and people 
 must take sides. Now cannot you tell us, for Allen's 
 benefit, just what you think of the stand he has taken." 
 
 *'My boy," said Mr. Wan-en, laying his hand on 
 Russell's shoulder, *' I cannot side with either section. 
 I believe the majority of the northern people mean 
 to do right. They are not as fanatical as we suppose, 
 and I cannot think that separation is a remedy for 
 evils, real or imaginary. On the other hand, we must 
 accept things as they are, not as we would have 
 them. A war is imminent, and by blood and interest 
 we are allied to the South." 
 
 " But, father, if this war becomes general, what 
 side would you have Kentucky take?" asked Allen. 
 
 *' I would have Kentucky stand aloof till the hot 
 blood of each section is cooler, and then step in as a 
 mediator between them." 
 
 " In such a conflict as this, however, positive men 
 must take sides ; but one side can be right, and 
 in my opinion the whole country claims the service 
 of the true patriot, in preference to a section. I re- 
 gret our differences, but I am firmly decided to stand 
 by the Union." 
 
118 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 As Allen said this he did not raise his voice, but 
 it sounded stronger and deeper than his ordinary tones. 
 
 "Brother Allen," said Kussell, "give me credit 
 for being as honest in my convictions as you are. I 
 am as strong in my feelings for the South as you can 
 be for the Union, and I am willing, if necessary, to 
 give my life blood as a pledge of my fidelity." 
 
 " I know you are honest, my Russell," said Allen, 
 rising and clasping the hand of his brother. ♦* I know 
 you are incapable of a mean or dishonorable act, yet 
 I must attribute what I deem your eiTors to some 
 cause ; let me call it thoughtlessness." 
 
 Allen turned as he spoke and left the room. Put- 
 ting on his hat, he walked do\ra through the locust 
 grove, through which glimpses of the moon could be 
 caught, and from which came the delicious perfume 
 of the flowering trees. He walked with bis hands 
 behind him and his eyes cast doA\'u. He loved his 
 brother dearly as his own life. There was only a few 
 years' difference in their ages, and from childhood 
 they had been companions, as playmates, schoolboys, 
 and college chums. Now he felt there was an es- 
 trangement, the first of their lives. It arose from no 
 personal feeling, for Russell was still the same noble, 
 generous boy, loved by all who knew him. Each 
 brother was the representative of antagonistic ideas. 
 Each was positive debate was useless, and one side 
 or the other must yield through other agencies. As 
 Allen strolled back he thought over the possibility 
 of a war, and he pictured himself and brother fighting 
 on opposite sides, and his heart gave a throb, and a 
 pain shot across his forehead. The idea was horri- 
 ble, and he tried to banish it by increasing his speed 
 
A GAME OF WHIST. 119 
 
 towards the house. On entering, Russell rose, and, 
 placmg both arms around his brother's neck, said : 
 
 " Alley, old boy, we are just gomg to settle all our 
 difficulties. Bell and I have decided to challenge 
 you and father to a game of whist. We will repre- 
 sent the sunny South, and you the othei side." 
 
 Allen laughed and agreed to it, nor was he sorry 
 when, at a late hour, the sunny South was ahead 
 three games. 
 
CHAPTEE XIII. 
 
 SPECULATIONS. 
 
 )jx the morning the all-absorbing topic was again 
 intro'luced by Bell's remarking, at the breakfast 
 table : 
 
 " Since the secession of Texas, I have been think- 
 ing a great deal about uncle Robert's family. If 
 there is to be a war, cousin Robert may come here to 
 fight." 
 
 "Yes, sister," said Russell, "if your old school- 
 mate, cousin Mary, knew how Kentucky was acting, 
 I am sure she would regret having relatives here." 
 
 "You take it for granted, then, that uncle Robert's 
 family is opposed to the Union. I have more respect 
 for them than to believe it," interposed Allen quietly. 
 
 "That idea about respect, Allen, is a matter of 
 opinion," said Russell. "I would be willing to wager 
 my horse that at this time cousin Robert is raising 
 a squadron of Texas rangers to avenge the -wrongs of 
 his State." 
 
 "Yes, Texas has been fearfully wronged by Indians 
 and cut-throat desperadoes, in addition to her unprin- 
 cipled politicians. I hope Robert retains his old hate 
 {'^r the class last named." 
 
 Allen said this with a cold smile, that had the effect 
 
THE WAR OF WORDS. 121 
 
 <)f rousing Russell, who poured out a torrent of gen- 
 eral invective against Yankees, Puritans, witch-burners, 
 abolitionists, fanatics, negro-stealers, and northern 
 mud-sills. 
 
 "Brother Russell," said Allen, after his brother had 
 exhausted himself, "I have a distinct recollection of 
 having saved you, while at school, from a flogging at 
 the hands of one of those Yankees, for language less 
 strong and more thoughtful than that just uttered. 
 However, we were talking about Texas. You may- 
 remember that when Texas was annexed, we took her 
 with all her debts, and desperadoes, and New England 
 helped to pay those debts, that the South might have 
 more slave territory. Texas wronged ! "Why, as a 
 State, she is the meanest and basest of ingrates, and 
 her secession and the subsequent murders of good 
 men, are in keeping with the character of her lead- 
 ers." 
 
 *'I suppose, brother Allen," said Bell, "you class 
 uncle Robert's family with the desperadoes and bad 
 people of Texas." 
 
 "No, Bell, I could not be just and suppose such a 
 thing; and even if they did vote for secession, I 
 would except them from the catalogue, knowing how 
 good they are : just, my sister, as I except you and 
 Russell from the ambitious demagogues and passion- 
 ate people of the South, with whom you sympathise." 
 There was a kindly tone in Allen's voice as he spoke, 
 and as he continued it became lower and softer: "1 
 have not seen cousin Robert for years, but as a boy he 
 bade fair to be a noble man, like his father. Whether 
 for or against the Union, I must respect him, for his 
 motives, I am sure, are right." 
 11 
 
IM WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Allen might have continued in this strain, had not 
 his attention been attracted by a tramping of horses 
 outside, followed by the ringing of the door-bell. 
 Soon after, a servant announced two gentlemen in the 
 hall. 
 
 " What do they look like, Patsy?" asked Bell, with 
 a woman's curiosity, as she glanced at the mirror above 
 the mantel-piece. 
 
 * ' Why, Miss, dey's kinder nice, an* dey look right 
 smart funny ; an' dey' s got de orfullest beards an' 
 hats, Lor'," and Patsy tried to describe the sombre- 
 ros by drawing an imaginary circle above her head 
 with both hands extended. 
 
 Bell laughed at the queer description, and, as she 
 glanced again at the mirror, directed the servant to 
 show the gentlemen into the parlor. 
 
 Patsy returned in a few seconds, and, in a voice in- 
 dicative of amazement, said : 
 
 " 0, sakes. Miss Bell, de gentleman says he's yer 
 cousin, an' he com'd from Texas." 
 
 Instantly Mr. Warren and his family rose from the 
 table and went to the parlor, and Robert Warren of 
 Texas and his friend Graines received that warm 
 greeting that a Kentucky gentleman can give when 
 his heart is in sympathy with his words. After the 
 first words of hearty welcome, the thoughtful Allen 
 went to the window, and, looking out for an instant, 
 said : 
 
 "I see you have horses — ^but I might have known 
 that ; only imagine a Texan without a horse !'* 
 
 Going to the door he called to a black man who 
 was working in one of the flower-beds, " Uncle Toby, 
 take the horses to the stable, rub them down well after 
 
COFFEE A^D COMPLIMENTS. 123 
 
 you water them, and then see that they are well fed. 
 And, on your way, tell Aunt Pheney to give the boy 
 a good warm breakfast. Do you hear?" 
 
 " All right, Mauss Al. I'll see dat de hosses an' 
 de boy's keered fur," said Uncle Toby, as he led the 
 horses to the stable, followed by Archy. 
 
 After some minutes spent in inquiring about their 
 mutual families. Bell called to mind the fact that Rob- 
 ert and his friend were just in time for breakfast, and 
 though they had eaten before, they could not resist 
 the temptation to join the family. 
 
 While at breakfast Robert apologized for his " out- 
 landish costume," as he was pleased to call his Texan 
 dress. He assured his pretty cousin that he had 
 clothing much more presentable, which he would don 
 after breakfast. 
 
 Bell laughed as she assured cousin Robert that he 
 was welcome, no matter what his appearance might 
 be, adding : " 1 think your present dress romantic and 
 picturesque. It might not look so well, however, on 
 a difterent looking man." 
 
 Robert gracefully acknowledged the compliment of 
 his cousin, and after breakfast he and G-aines left to 
 dress, he promising to return soon and show his cousin 
 *'a couple of Texan savages attired in the manufac- 
 ture of timid Yankees." 
 
 After the visitors had withdrawn, Russell, who felt 
 rather sore over the previous conversation, began : 
 
 '' Vou see, brother Allen, from the tone of cousin 
 Robert's conversation, he is opposed to the Yankees 
 {Shouldn't wonder if he came on here to raise a company 
 of Keutuckians. Wouldn't he make a dashing soldier J 
 Clear the track, Yankees," and Russell crowed ex- 
 ultingly. 
 
124 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 '^I beg, Eussell," said Mr. Warren, "that you do 
 not draw Robert out on that question. No matter 
 what his views may be, it would be unpleasant for 
 him, as we are so unfortunate as to be radical and 
 opposite." 
 
 Allen smiled as he said : "Father, we are not ex- 
 actly opposite. You split the difference between 
 Kussell and myself, by being thoroughly conserva- 
 tive." 
 
 Bell walked up behind her father's chair, and draw- 
 ing back his head she kissed his forehead, saying, as 
 she toyed with his grey hair: "I think my dear, kind 
 father is — let me see — what do you call it, Rus- 
 sell?" Russell suggested "on the fence," and Bell 
 repeated, "Yes, father, you are on the fence — on my 
 side of it, however." 
 
 Mr. Warren intended to laugh, from the twitchings 
 of his face, but gradually it grew more serious, and 
 he dropped his head on his breast, as if the remarks 
 of his children had led him to more serious reflec- 
 tion. 
 
 Robert and Gaines soon returned, looking like dif- 
 ferent men in their clean, civilized attire. 
 
 " Cousin Robert," said Russell, shortly after Robert 
 came down, "I am going to Nicholasville to attend 
 a drill of a new State Guard company. If you aro 
 not too tired to go with me, I can provide you with a 
 horse, such as you never saw on the prairies." 
 
 "I thank you very much, and should be pleased tc 
 gOy were I not so tired," said Robert. "I know some- 
 thing about horses, however, and would like to see 
 this wonderful animal of yours." 
 
 They walked out, and Russell pointed out his ele- 
 
TALKING *'HOSS." 125 
 
 gant four-year-old bay, purchased when a colt from 
 the famous stock-raiser, "Lord" Alexander. Robert 
 admired the beautiful creature, pointed out the fine 
 points with his finger, and then said : 
 
 "You have a fine horse, cousin Russell, but if you 
 wish to see one that can beat him one hundred and 
 fifty yards in a mile, go to the stable and take a look 
 at one of the horses I brought from the prairies." 
 
 You may tell a Kentuckian you are stronger, of 
 better family, and of superior abilities to him, and ho 
 may pass your remarks unheeded ; but tell him you 
 have a horse that can leave his behind, and suddenly he 
 flashes up, and is willing to wager his all that you are 
 in error. Russell tried to laugh as he said : 
 
 "All you say about your horse is possible, cousin 
 Robert ; but wait till you and your horse are rested, 
 and we will have a rare ride. Now, I must leave you 
 to my good Quaker brother. I'm off for the drill." 
 
 Russell finished his last words while vaulting into 
 the saddle, then rode some distance at a walk. He 
 looked back, and seeing that his cousin was watching 
 him, he raised his hat, and giving free rein to his 
 beautiful horse, like an arrow he sped down the long 
 vista, arched by the flowering locusts. 
 
 It was indeed a day of rest to Robert. He lounged, 
 smoked, and tried to read, but thoughts of the dear 
 one at home and the memories of the dangers he had 
 encountered to reach Kentucky, haunted him. 
 
 In the afternoon Bell sought him out, and proposed 
 a stroll through the grounds, to which he willingly 
 agreed. They sauntered out through the gardens. 
 Bell entertaining her cousin by pointing out her 
 favorite flowers, and drawing him out on the flora of 
 11* 
 
126 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Texas, in which he was perfectly at home, ^'he 
 spoke about the current literature, and was astonished 
 at her cousin's f\\miliarity with her most read authors. 
 She prattled about a hundred things, trivial they 
 would seem if written ; yet a lovely woman can 
 warble them out and be irresistible. Tired at length, 
 she took off her hat, and shaking loose her wealth of 
 jetty cm'ls, she led her cousin to a seat, exclaiming : 
 
 " Oh, cousin Robert, you look so brave and strong, 
 that it makes me particularly happy to see you at this 
 time." 
 
 "Why, my little cousin, I had no idea that the fact 
 of my being strong would increase your pleasure at 
 seeing me. If I were small and weak, would you not 
 esteem me as highly?'" asked Robert. 
 
 "Yes, I would esteem you, no matter what you 
 looked like, cousin Robert," said Bell, "but lam 
 sure I would not be so happy to see you just at this 
 time, if you were as small as I am." 
 
 " If I were as sweet looking in addition, I think 
 you would, cousin Bell," said Robert. " Now, I am 
 nervous witli anxiety to know why you admii'e my size 
 and strength." 
 
 "Because, cousin Robert," said Bell, her face grow- 
 ing serious, " I want strong men to fight. O, we are 
 going to have such an awful war, and fearful times ! 
 Russell has joined the State Guard, and nearly all the 
 young men are going to. Brother Allen is a regular 
 Yankee. I'm sorry, for I love him very much. He 
 got angry last night. I could see it in his eyes. And 
 he said, if Kentucky seceded, he would fight her. 
 Don't you think it was wicked to speak so ? Say yes, 
 please/* 
 
"AT YOUR aDMMO]SiS." 127 
 
 8he added the last three words after waiting some 
 time for an answer. But Robert, with his eyes cast 
 on the gi-ound, forgot his cousin in the whirUng 
 thoughts which rushed through his brain. 
 
 Bell looked inquiringly into his face, and then, in a 
 soft sweet voice, asked, "Are you ill, cousin Robert? 
 Tou must be. Come, let us return to the house." 
 
 *• Yes, cousin, I am sick," and Robert spoke with an 
 emphasis that startled her. 
 
 He rose and walked rapidly back, almost forgetting 
 his fair companion. On reaching the house he di- 
 rected a servant to tell Allen he wished to see him at 
 once. 
 
 With a woman's instinct, Bell saw the true state of 
 afiairs, and agitated by anger and sorrow, she went to 
 her room, and eased her heart in the great solace 
 of her sex — tears. 
 
 in a few minutes Allen entered the room where 
 Robert sat gazing earnestly out of the window, and 
 said : " My stalwart cousin, at your summons ; your 
 servaut has come to receive his orders." Allen spoke 
 ill a playful way, but his manner changed when his 
 eyes met those of Robert, with their strong, stem ex- 
 piessioa. 
 
 '' Let us take a walk, Allen," said Robert. " There is 
 a subject ou which Lam very anxious to speak with you." 
 
 Oalliug Oaiues, who now, as heretofore, was using 
 his spare moments iu writing to his wife letters which 
 ht; felt very certain would never reach her, they walked 
 to a rustic aibor some distauce from the house, and 
 aflorbei.tg seated. Robert related to Allen the con- 
 versation ho had just had with his cousin l^ell and 
 then he asked : 
 
128 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Are you truly in favor of the Union, cousin Allen ? 
 
 Allen replied : " Without at all knowing how yoii 
 stand on that question, I will answer your inquiry with 
 the candor with which it was asked. Yes, I am in 
 favor of the Union, and so much so as to lay down my 
 life, if necessary, for it." 
 
 "Give me your hand on that, Mr. Warren," said 
 Gaines, rising and extending his hand to Allen. The 
 hands were clasped, and Allen knew that his cousin 
 was a Union man. 
 
 Robert then related to Allen his reasons for visiting 
 Kentucky. He spoke of the voting in Brazoria, the 
 tearing down of the flag, the assault of Townsend, and 
 the subsequent flight of himself and companions. He 
 showed up the gigantic fraud by which Texas was 
 rushed out of the Union, and the wholesale murder oi 
 Union men which followed. He touched but lightly 
 on the perils of his flight, the Caddo lakes, and the 
 wild mobs of Arkansas and Tennessee. 
 
 *'I rode the whole of the distance," he said, "and 
 'mid the hardships incident to such a flight my heart 
 was buoyed up wdth the strong hope that in Kentucky 
 I would find patriots arming for the whole country, 
 and the fires of patriotism burning brightly. Instead 
 of this, I see, with sorrow, Kentucky far beneath 
 South Carolina in consistency. She stands tottering, 
 undecided which way to go, as if there could be two 
 right sides to any question." 
 
 "I agree w^ith you in pvery particular, cousin Rob- 
 ert," said Allen. "I have my fears, however, that 
 General Buckner, who commands the State Guard, is 
 now working to hand over his men, and with them the 
 State, to the rebels." 
 
A DETERMINED TRIO. 129 
 
 "Allen, I have traveled over two thousand miles to 
 reach Kentucky. I came here to act. The Govern- 
 ment has called for troops, and your miserable gover- 
 nor, Magoffin, refuses to respond. I will not remain 
 here while the country needs my services. Gaines 
 and myself will start inside the week for some State 
 that is raising Union troops, even if it takes us to 
 Massachusetts." Robert's face assumed the expres- 
 sion that came over it when Townsend accosted him 
 at the polls as he stepped up to vote. 
 
 *' Kentucky cannot remain long undecided, Robert," 
 said Allen. "She must take sides, and, despite the 
 number of secessionists in our midst, I am confident 
 the majority of our people are in favor of the Union. 
 In the streets of Lexington you will see hundreds oi 
 men and women openly wearing secession cockades, 
 but I am glad to say they are not our thinking people. 
 My advice would be to you, stay here till the Govern- 
 ment adopts some positive course of action, and then 
 I promise that you go not alone to her aid. What say 
 you?" 
 
 " I am willing to be guided by you in this, and here 
 let me express my pleasure at seeing you so decided,'* 
 said Robert. 
 
 "Whatever course you choose to pursue, gentlemen, 
 count me in to the death," said Gaines ; " though I 
 fear our efforts to maintain the Union will be unavail- 
 ing." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE BARBECUE. 
 
 A few days after the arrival of our friends at Mr. 
 Warren's, Gaines was taken ill with a brain fever, the 
 result of hardship and anxiety. During the delirium, 
 which lasted several days, he raved widly about the 
 trials through which he had passed, and all of Mr. War- 
 ren's family became familiar with his past troubles. 
 Everything that faithful attendants and skillful physi- 
 cians could do was done to restore him, and after nine 
 days the fever passed off, leaving him feeble and 
 emaciated. 
 
 In the meantime Allen and Robert had been busy 
 in the neighborhood, rousing the latent Union element* 
 and organizing a company secretly pledged to the 
 Union, though nominally belonging to the State 
 Guard. 
 
 In the latter part of May it was decided by the 
 people of Jessamine and Fayette counties to give a 
 barbecue to the military organizations of both places* 
 The place selected w^as on the banks of the beautiful 
 Kentucky River, a few miles above the Shaker Ferry. 
 There was an ample space of pasture-land for the 
 movements of larger bodies of troops than could have 
 been assembled by both counties, and around the 
 fields on the hills that swept down to the river, were 
 the grand woods so peculiar to this portion of the 
 
A STATE GUARD MUSTER. 131 
 
 State, and which afforded fine points from which to 
 view the parade. 
 
 Early on the morning of the day set apart for the 
 barbecue, scores of carriages could be seen on the 
 way to the grounds, and bands of horsemen poured 
 into the woods from every direction. The bridles of 
 the horsemen were decorated with bunches of rib- 
 bons, the colors of which denoted the sympathies of 
 the rider. Those in favor of the Union wore red, 
 white, and blue; those who advocated secession 
 chose red, white, and red, and, from the number of 
 the latter streamers, the majority of the horsemen were 
 certainly in favor of the South. Several companies 
 from Lexington came down on a special train, and 
 marched across from Nicholasville, carrying their 
 colors covered. 
 
 In the finely-shaded grove where the feast, or bar- 
 becue, was to take place, hundreds of the most beau- 
 tiful girls in Kentucky strolled around, watching the 
 new arrivals, waving their handkerchiefs to friends, 
 and showing decided enthusiasm w^henever a company 
 advanced which they knew to be in favor of secession. 
 Many of them wore small southern flags pinned to 
 their breasts, and there were not wanting those who 
 dared in the same way to carry diminutive flags rep- 
 resenting the whole Union. The large assembly was 
 not composed wholly of young people. There were 
 scores of fine, hale-looking, elderly men and matronly 
 women present, evidently as much interested in vv^hat 
 was going on as were the younger persons, and as 
 much divided in their feelings toward the Union. 
 
 By eleven o'clock the woods were crowded with 
 citizens and citizen-soldiers, and rival bands alter- 
 
132 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 nated with *' Dixie" and the "Star-spangled Ban- 
 ner." The morning was spent in listening to speeches 
 which were either weakly conservative or extremely 
 southern in the sentiments advanced. The latter 
 speakers were most popular, and their most radical 
 ideas were most loudly cheered. During this time 
 the dinner was being barbecued, and as the ox, and 
 sheep, and scores of poultry wasted before the huge 
 fires, the black cooks looked as if they were preparing 
 a meal for the inhabitants of Brobdignag. Long ta- 
 bles, supplied with linen, dishes, and cutlery by the 
 neighboring farmers, or brought from a greater dis- 
 tance, radiated in a half circle from the fires. Huge 
 kettles of coffee, boiled on smaller fires, and piles of 
 cold meats, pastry, and preserves were stored in the 
 branch-covered larder. That the dinner was enjoyed, 
 the rapid disappearance of the good things showed, 
 but it was equally observable in the wit and repartee 
 all around, and the constant chorus of laughter that 
 came from every table. It was a good place to see 
 the gallantry of the young Kentuckians, and to have 
 displayed to advantage the beauty of Kentucky's 
 daughters. 
 
 After dinner was over an order was read announcing 
 that in half an hour the assembly would sound, and 
 the members of the State Guard would be required 
 to fall in promptly with their different commands. It 
 was the most exciting half hour so far. Fair iiands 
 were not wanting to adjust equipments according to 
 the feminine ideas of beauty, and musket muzzles 
 were adorned with little red bouquets, nor was it 
 deemed a breach of good discipline to carry them so 
 in the line. 
 
JOHN MORGAN. 133 
 
 When the bugle sounded, and the infantry and 
 mounted men moved into the field, each company 
 was cheered by its friends, and the men walked more 
 erect for the recognition. After the mounted men 
 had formed, the infantry, at a double-quick, took a 
 position on their left. The first company in line was 
 headed by a man noticeable among the many. He 
 was about thirty-five years of age, over six feet in 
 height, finely-proportioned, and straight as an Indian. 
 His hair was a very light brown, close cut, and his 
 firm mouth was covered with a large, light-colored 
 moustache. His face was long and muscular-looking — 
 what would be called a Scotch face — and his greyish- 
 blue eyes had a sharp, cold, and cunning expression. 
 As he marched with drawn sword at a double-quick, in 
 advance of his company, cheer after cheer went up 
 from citizens and soldiers for ' ' John Morgan and the 
 Lexington Rifles." 
 
 It was decided by the officers, afler the review, to 
 have a sham battle, for the amusement of the specta- 
 tors and the particular delight of the fiery soldiers 
 themselves. The infantry marched with admirable 
 deliberation to a point to the left and at right angles 
 with the spectators. The cavalry took a position par- 
 allel and to the right of the anxious assemblage, and 
 then, with praiseworthy coolness, sat on their horses 
 while the opposing infantry loaded their pieces with 
 blank cartridges. At a signal, a number of horsemen 
 dismounted, and after disentangling themselves from 
 their sabers, they boldly advanced to skirmish. The 
 infantry did the same, and the watching people held 
 their breath. Perhaps there were no better riflemen 
 in the world than that collection of Kentuckians rep- 
 
134 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 resented. Any of them could have chipped a squir- 
 re) off-baDd at a hundred yards ; but to shoot off-hand 
 under the circumstances was not soldierly, so the 
 skinTji-^her? dropped gi-acefully on one knee, took a 
 deliberate aim at their opponents, no doubt, and fired. 
 They continued to stain their pants on the grass in 
 this way for some time, when each party appeared to 
 be driven back, and the cavalry remounted and the 
 infantry dropped into their places in the ranks. It 
 was a novel idea but worthy of a great leader ; the 
 officer in command of the infantry ordered a charge 
 on the cavalry, and with furious yells they rushed 
 down on the astounded horse. The cavalrymen could 
 have stood the firing and yelling, but the horses be- 
 came utterly disgusted, and tuniing tail they galloped 
 wildly in every direction through the field. Several 
 prisoners were taken, and the infantry were in high 
 glee, and good-naturedly offered to receive a charge 
 from the cavalry. The old positions were again taken, 
 the charge was sounded, and four hundred magnifi- 
 cent horsemen swept across the field. Even in sport 
 a cavalry charge is grand. The horsemen yelled, 
 fired their pistols, and flashed their sabers. The in- 
 fantry reserved their fire and their equally injurious 
 yells till the horses came close up, and then they 
 poured in both, and the horses wheeled and ran back, 
 testing in a severe way the skill of their riders. This 
 ended the battle. 
 
 So far the only flags carried by the Guards were 
 the State colors and guidons. Afler a short rest 
 from the fatigues of "the battle" the troops formed 
 to march in review, and other flags were unfurled, 
 and wild cheers broke from the multitude as the 
 
UNION VERSUS SECESSION. 135 
 
 crimson folds of the " stars and bars " rose over each 
 company along the line. But the cheers died out as 
 a squadron of cavalry from the further end of the 
 field advanced, bearing in its center the emblem of 
 Union, the old Stars and Stripes. The cheers were 
 not loud that greeted it, but more than one eye moist- 
 ened at its sight, and more than one heart blessed 
 brave Allen Warren and his "brown-horse" squadron. 
 The surprise of the multitude and the pleasure of the 
 Union men increased when, after advancing across 
 the field, Warren's company opened and disclosed to 
 the rear the red and blue uniforms of the chasseurs. 
 This company carried the Union flag, and was com- 
 manded by the gallant Saunders Bruce, a brother-in- 
 law of John Morgan. 
 
 After this strangest of all reviews, it was decided, 
 as a fitting close to the festivities and exercises of the 
 day, to have a peaceable contest of the merits of the 
 Union and secession cause. Two squadrons of cav- 
 alry were to form at the further end of the field, one 
 carrymg the southern colors, the other those of the 
 Union. The color-bearers were to have fifty yards 
 the start, and at a signal all were to gallop across the 
 field, and the flag first in was to be crowned with g 
 garland, the southern flag by a Union girl, the Union 
 flag by one of opposite sympathies. The horsemen 
 rode back and formed in line. The colors were ad- 
 vanced ; Captain Morgan by general desire carrying 
 the confederate flag, and mounted on the best horse 
 they could find where all the horses were good. Allen 
 Warren advanced abreast of Morgan, from his own 
 squadron, carrying his own flag. A moment or two of 
 smxiety, and the bugle soimded the ''advance," and 
 
136 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 both squadrons, with their flags, sped like a whirlwind 
 over the field. The color-bearers seemed fairly to 
 fly, and their followers came thundering behind. 
 They were within three hundred yards of the goal, 
 and Allen was three lengths ahead. He felt certain, 
 as did his men, and already they began to cheer him. 
 But just as he seemed most secure, his horse stumbled, 
 fell on his knees, and the flag dropped from Allen's 
 grasp. A loud cheer rang out from the opposite line. 
 Morgan was ahead. Quick as a flash, a black horse 
 leaped out of Warren's squadron, and without a mo- 
 ment's check the rider swooped do>\Ti, seized the flag, 
 and tossing it over his head with a cheer that electri- 
 fied all who heard it, he flew past Morgan, and before 
 the southern flag came up, Robert Warren dismounted, 
 and kneeling amid a huzza of admiration from friend 
 and foe, he had the old flag crowned. 
 
 Shortly after this the barbecue broke up, and the 
 different companies of the State Guard marched home. 
 Before Allen Warren dismissed his men that evening, 
 he drew them up in line, and addressed them as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 "The President of our country has called for troops 
 to maintain the Union intact, and Kentucky has re- 
 fused to respond. This, however, does not prevent 
 patriots from acting as individuals. Let those of you 
 who are in favor of offering your services to the Gov- 
 ernment at once, draw your sabers and advance to the 
 front." Every sword leaped from its scabbard, and 
 every horse advanced. 
 
 *'I feel proud of you," said Allen, with more feeling 
 than he usually manifested. "To-day you saw the 
 men who, sooner or later, we must meet on the field 
 
PRIVATE ROBERT WARREN. 137 
 
 of battle. They are our own brothers and friends. 
 But no tie of consanguinity or social relation must 
 hold us from the road to which duty points. Be 
 ready to start from here at a moment's notice. And 
 if you do not hear from me before, we will assemble 
 the day after to-morrow at the usual hour at our ren- 
 dezvous. Attention! Right face! Break ranks- 
 march !" 
 
 Individually the men came up to grasp the hands of 
 the cousins ere they rode to their homes, in none of 
 which could they find general sympathy. 
 
 As Allen and Robert turned their horses homeward, 
 they talked over plans for the future. 
 
 * 'Allen," said Robert, after they had conversed 
 some time, " I have decided, as you know, to be a 
 full private in your command when we are accepted 
 by the Government. I cannot retain my servant, and 
 I do not wish to have him away from me. Will you 
 engage him ?" 
 
 "Certainly, Robert, if it will please you," said 
 Allen. 
 
 "It will. And then Archy is free, and he does not 
 know what to make of it. He could not care foi 
 himself, though he is one of the most faithful, pious, 
 and reliable men in the world. And to tell the truth, 
 we were never parted for a day, except when I was at 
 college." 
 
 "I thought about it myself," said Allen, "before 
 you spoke. Indeed, Robert, I think it will be well to 
 remove Archy, for I understand our coquettish cook, 
 Aunt Pheney, has designs on his heart, though the 
 poor fellow talks about nothing but Susey and the 
 
 piccanins." 
 
 12* 
 
138 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 After reaching home they found a number of the 
 young people assembled from the neighboring plan- 
 tations, to spend the evening with Miss Bell. All 
 were loud and generous in their praises of Robert's 
 exploit. 
 
 "You did splendidly, cousin Robert," said Russell, 
 *' though it came near costing you your life." 
 
 "How was that?" asked Robert. 
 
 " Why, I heard one of our most desperate men say 
 that if you had not acted so quickly he would have 
 shot you." 
 
 "What delightftd men you have in your squadron, 
 Russell. Assure him for me, should you see him 
 again, that we Texans can ride well, and shoot bet- 
 ter," said Robert, with a gay laugh. 
 
 That night, before Robert retired, he sent for Archy, 
 and that faithful fellow soon appeared, hat in hand. 
 
 " Archy, I am going to leave here in a few days, if 
 Mr. Gaines is strong enough. I am to be a private 
 soldier, and cannot have a servant. Would you be 
 willing to go with Master Allen ?" asked Robert. 
 
 *'Mauss Robut, I doesn't want to lebe yeh. Why 
 can't T go 'long, an' tote yer gun an' tings ? Ise got 
 lots of money frum ole mauss, an' can take keer ob 
 mysel'." Archy spoke in a tremulous voice. Bui he 
 brightened up when his master explained that he 
 would be near him daily, and could help him, ii /ve 
 were Allen's servant, when he willingly consented 
 
CHAPTEE XV, 
 
 TRIALS OF SOUTHERN LOYALISTS. 
 
 It was comparatively easy in the summer of 1861, 
 when Lincohi called for troops, for the young men of 
 the North to respond. All their sympathies were 
 with the Union — their prejudices as a rule against the 
 South. They left their homes with the " G-od-speed '* 
 of friends and relatives, and they stood in the ranks 
 beside brothers and schoolmates. They had no op- 
 position to their feelings or views of duty, and they 
 strengthened the ties of friendship and consanguinity 
 by their actions. Hov/ very different it was with the 
 men who fought for the Union from the South. All 
 their prejudices and associations bound them to their 
 States, and opposed them to the " Yankees." It was 
 popular to favor secession, and social ostracism re- 
 sulted in an opposite course. They had not even the 
 blessings of mothers or the sympathies of fathers in 
 every case to give them strength, and often, as with 
 Allen Warren, they had to take sides against the 
 brothers they loved, and array themselves in arms 
 against life-long friends. They could not organize in 
 their own neighborhoods, but stealthily, one by one, 
 they had to escape to some point where they could 
 find the flag protected by the men of the North. In 
 case of sickness or wounds there were no furloughs or 
 leaves of absence to welcome homes, for those homes 
 
140 T7ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 for four yenrs were scenes of constant strife. Yet 
 with all the.-^e difficulties staring them in the face, in 
 addition to secession in Tennessee, and a false neu- 
 trality in Kentucky, by thousands gallant men from 
 each State gave up homes, friends, relatives, social 
 position, and early prejudices, and took upon them- 
 selves hardships, privations, and dangers, that the na- 
 tion might live. It is well for the future of America 
 that a love for the Union was not sectional or parti- 
 san during the war. Every southern State was rep- 
 resented by organizations or individuals on the side 
 of the Union, and it can be safely said that every 
 northern State was represented in the armies of the 
 South. 
 
 By the middle of June, Captain Warren's men, to 
 the number of fifty-seven, had assembled at Jefferson- 
 ville, Indiana. They left their homes a few at a time, 
 but they found hundreds of loyal Kentuckians await- 
 ing them, and the number daily increasing. 
 
 Nothing looks more peaceful than the first camp of 
 new troops, particularly if the men remain long at the 
 first rendezvous. Every man gathers about him the 
 luxuries of home, and fixes up his quarters as if he 
 intended pemianently to locate ; and as he adds some 
 article of comfort to his mess he never imagines that 
 it will not be of service during the whole war, or that 
 he cannot carry it or pack it away in the company's 
 wagons. Companies had wagons then. Crackers, 
 and pork, and coffee, were the main features of the 
 camp ration even at that early day in the war ; but 
 who thought of eating the ration as a whole when 
 itinerant butchers brought fresh meat to camp daily 
 and fresh bread could be had at a few^ cents a pound ? 
 
CA^IP LIFE— A SCOUT. ui 
 
 Venders of tough cakes and doubtful pies made for^ 
 tunes in our first camps, and purchasers of bacon and 
 hurd-tack secured those articles at a fearful discount. 
 Concocters of lemonade and retailers of other doubt- 
 ful drinks always commanded purchasers, and the 
 cheap literature and card trade did a flourishing 
 business. The camp at Jeffersonville was the heaven 
 of dogs, cats, little pigs, and saucy-looking chickens, 
 for the men wanted pets, and their tastes in that line 
 were variable. Yet the new life on which Robert 
 Warren entered was not monotonous, though he 
 longed for an advance. There was the daily drill, 
 the parade, inspection, guard duty, and camp detail, 
 which usually occupied his time. Every moment not 
 so occupied was spent in studying tactics, and General 
 P. St. George Cooke never had a more faithful stu- 
 dent than Robert Warren. Archy acted as cook for 
 Captain Warren, and as no election had yet been held 
 for officers, all the friends messed together without 
 any breach of military etiquette. 
 
 During the month of August it was rumored that 
 the rebels, who were swarming along the southern 
 border of Kentucky, were preparing to advance into 
 the State : but so closely did they guard their lines 
 that it was difficult to obtain reliable information. 
 At this time Robert Warren was sent into the State 
 on detached service, and while he did not like the 
 nature of his duties, he was glad to have the monot- 
 ony of camp life broken. He returned on the first 
 day of September, and reported the enemy preparing 
 to violate Kentucky's neutrality. The information 
 he obtained was of the most valuable kind, because 
 wholly reliable. Three days after his return. General 
 
143 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Polk, at the head of twenty thousand men, ad vane- -J 
 into Kentucky, and, with a soldier's instinct, seized 
 the impregnable bluffs in and around Columbus. 
 This incident was hailed with joy by the Union Ken- 
 tuckians fighting in West Virginia and in camp north 
 of the Ohio. Across the river and over the moun- 
 tains they poured, and the southern flags so boldly 
 displayed in Louisville were withdrawn when that 
 bravest of Kentucky*s sons, General Rousseau, at the 
 head of his intrepid legion, unfurled the flag of the 
 Union and marched south through the streets of the 
 city from which he had been virtually a refugee. 
 Noble Rousseau, let men speak of thy post heJlum acts 
 as they may, their slander cannot dim thy fame, nor 
 blot from the history of thy country the deeds of 
 glory written in blood with thy sword. Never doubt- 
 ing when duty called ; never wanting when danger 
 threatened. 
 
 Camps w^ere soon established for Union troops in 
 northern and central Kentucky, and seeing the war 
 was upon them, neutrality was thrown aside, and men 
 openly ranged themselves for or against the nation. 
 Buckner, with the majority of the State Guard, went 
 south. Captain Morgan remained in Lexington till 
 after the Union troops took possession, never attempt- 
 ing to hide his sentiments. Learning one night that 
 his arms would be seized next day by a Federal offi- 
 cer, with a boldness and cunning characteristic of 
 the man, he called a meeting of his company at the 
 armory in the center of the town. He told his men 
 the time had come to leave. He proposed starting 
 that night, and if there was not a man for every mus- 
 ket, he would take the muskets and find men. His 
 
JOHN MORGAN'S RUSE. U3 
 
 proposal met with a quick response, and the Rifles 
 that night started south from a Federal camp. The 
 next morning the news spread that Morgan had gone, 
 and troops were sent in pursuit. They returned at 
 night congratulating themselves with the capture of 
 the two wagons containing the arms. The long boxes 
 were unloaded and stored carefully away, and it was 
 some time afterwards that on being opened the boxes 
 were found to be filled with stones. Morgan had 
 prepared the wagons for capture, threw his pursuers 
 on the wrong track, and escaped with his rifles. This 
 was the first war act of the great raider. Captain 
 Bruce, Morgan's brother-in-law, about the same time 
 joined the Union army and raised a regiment. 
 
 The legislature of Kentucky at this time appeared 
 to wake up. The secessionists offered a resolution 
 asking the northern troops to leave the State, but it 
 was lost, and a resalution, introduced by the Union 
 men, asking Bishop Polk to withdraw from Kentucky, 
 was earned by a large majority. It is needless to 
 say that the martial bishop did not obey the request, 
 but went on fortifying his post as if he intended to 
 remain permanently. 
 
 The post of Camp Dick Robinson, near Danville, 
 called after the noble man. on whose farm it was es- 
 tablished, became the great rendezvous for the Union 
 men of the South. Here the regiment to which the 
 Warrens and Gaines were attached was stationed, 
 though detachments were always on the move, mak- 
 ing futile raids in the direction of Humphrey Mar- 
 shall's lines, or south with the hope of feeling Zolli- 
 cofTer's advance. 
 
 Captain Warren's company was alv/ays on the 
 
144 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 move, and while they never had what gi'een soldiers 
 desire, yet dread, a brush with the enemy, they got a 
 good knowledge of the country to the south, and 
 gathered up hundreds of refugees, who were swarming 
 in from East Tennessee. It was sad to see those 
 men, ragged and footsore, armed with the squirrel rifle 
 and shot-gun, creeping into the Union lines. 
 
 One night while in camp in the broken country 
 southeast of Crab Orchard, Robert Warren was sta- 
 tioned as an advanced vedette about half a mile 
 down the road. It was about two o'clock, and unu- 
 sually dark. Archy, who sought every opportunity 
 of being with his old master, had gone out to the 
 post, and was conversing in a whisper; as they stood 
 beside their horses. Suddenly they stopped talking. 
 Something was moving in the bushes to the left of 
 the road. They listened, and heard distinctly two 
 persons talking in a low tone and moving cautiously, 
 as if to get closer to the vedette. Robert quickly 
 unslung his carbine, and, stepping in a stooping pos- 
 ture near the bushes, he shouted out : 
 
 " Halt ! who goes there ?" 
 
 No reply came, but two men started from their 
 crouching position and ran past him. He called on 
 them to halt again, when one of the men turned and 
 fired, the ball whistling past Robert's head. The 
 flash had hardly died out when he fired, and a cry of 
 pain came from one of the men, and another shot 
 from his companion. Robert had his finger on the 
 trigger to fire again when a voice called out, "We 
 suiTender ! we surrender !" 
 
 Calling Archy to advance with the horses, Robert, 
 with his pistol cocked, walked to the spot from which 
 
THE UNFORTUNATE SHOT. 145 
 
 he heard the shout, and there found the two men. 
 One was lying on the ground groaning, and the other 
 was kneeling by his side, wringing his hands and cry- 
 ing, *• Ned, Ned, my boy — my own boy ! Oh, God ! 
 they have killed you !" 
 
 " Who are you ?" demanded Warren. 
 
 "We 're from Tennessee, sir," said the man who 
 was kneeling. 
 
 * ' Yes ; but what is your command ? Are there any 
 more of your men near here?" asked Kobert. 
 
 " No, sir ; only we 'uns. We do n't belong to no 
 command ; and my poor Ned — he's all that's left, 
 sir ; an' he won't be left long," said the man, bending 
 over the prostrate form. 
 
 ** You 're a rebel, are you not ?" asked Kobert. 
 
 **No, sir; no, sir," replied the kneeling man as he 
 tottered to his feet, " but you are. Yeh would n't 'a 
 shot Ned if yeh wuz n't." 
 
 The truth flashed upon Robert. He felt the cold 
 sweat flashing upon his brow. Those men were 
 refugees. 
 
 The firing had alamaed the posts to the rear, and 
 through them the company was soon under arms and 
 formed so as to place the fire between them and any 
 advancing foe. In a few minutes, a number of men 
 who had been sent forward by Captain Warren ar- 
 rived, and, leammg the state of affairs, they placed 
 the wounded man in a blanket, and Archy, with three 
 other stalwart fellows, carried him back to camp. 
 Robert was relieved shortly after this, and he ner- 
 vously hurried to the fires to ascertain the fate of the 
 man whom he had shot. 
 
 He found Captain WaiTen kneeling over the form 
 13 
 
He TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 in the blanket, and trying to stop the blood which 
 was flowing from the right breast of the wounded boy, 
 for such he was. He could not have been over six- 
 teen. His form, poorly clad, was very slender, and 
 his fair, curly hair v/as brushed back by the old, gi'ey- 
 lieaded man who moaned by his side. 
 
 Robert, like a great many of the southern planters, 
 knew something about medicine and surgery, and, 
 though very much agitated, he was soon at work 
 examining the wound. The ball had struck the boy 
 in the right breast as he was in the act of firing, and, 
 glancing around, it came out under his arm. As there 
 was no bleeding from the mouth or nose, Robert felt 
 encouraged, and knew that the lad was suffering more 
 from the shock and the loss of blood than any vital 
 injury. Giving hin* some stimulants, he soon stopped 
 the bleeding, and dressed the womid. Blankets were 
 not wanting to make a comfortable bed for the little 
 fellow close to the fire ; and when he turned and said, 
 " Grandad, I feel all right agin," the old man thanked 
 God, and wept like a child. 
 
 Captain Warren, with a characteristic thoughtful- 
 ness, had supper prepared for the fugitives, and Archy 
 never worked more rapidly or willingly than in its 
 preparation. The boy ate heartily, wounded as he 
 WTis, and the old man, satisfied by Robert that the 
 boy was safe, devoured the food set before him like 
 a famished man. After both had eaten. Captain 
 Warren brought the old man a pipe, for which he 
 seemed grateful, and a number of the men, including 
 Gaines, gathered about the gi'oup at the fire, while 
 the lad closed his eyes and slept. 
 
 " I am son-y," said Robert, as he looked from the 
 
EXPLANATIONS. 147 
 
 blazing logs to the old man's face, " that I was com- 
 pelled to fire at you. You should have halted when 
 I challenged you, and you ought not to have fired 
 on me.'* 
 
 "That's true, stranger," said the old man, "but I 
 reckoned ye wuz rebels. I did n' t 'spect to fine fren's 
 so near." 
 
 "Why, where were you bound for?" asked the 
 captain. 
 
 "I wuz goin' to the Union camp," said the old 
 man, " an' 'bout an hour afore I met you 'uns, Ned 
 an* I came near runnin' plum inter a grist of rebels. 
 They wuz n't mor' 'n a half mile from whar Ned wuz 
 shot, an' I thought when I heard a man holler ter 
 halt that it wuz them. Ned an' I have had a mighty 
 tough time a gittin' her-e, strangers, an' I did n't want 
 to be tuck gist when I wuz near over my trouble." 
 
 " Is this lad yom* son ?" asked Graines, who drew 
 near to the old man. 
 
 "No, stranger; he's my son's son. His father's 
 dead. He wuz shot 'bout six weeks gone." The old 
 man's voice trembled, and he took the pipe from his 
 mouth and looked over at the sleeping boy. " Ned's 
 all that's left," he continued. "Thar wuz three more 
 of us, but they've only left Ned, an' if I hadn't a 
 started whin I did, they'd a' got us too. We've had 
 a rough road, strangers." 
 
 **I am very son*y, old gentleman, that I have given 
 such a painful termination to your journey. But you 
 must know I did my duty." 
 
 " Sartinly, stranger ; we'uns started the shootin," 
 said the old man; "an' he mout a hit you, all the 
 same.'* 
 
148 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The Old man still smoked, and after Archy had 
 spread some blankets for him, Robert said : 
 
 *' You must need rest. I have had a bed made for 
 you, and while I should like to hear your story I hope 
 I may have that pleasure some other time." 
 
 * * No, stranger ; I'm rested now. I'm 'mong frien's, 
 an' I feel a load taken frum my heart on his account," 
 pointing to the sleeping boy. " I can't close my eyes 
 this night, an' if it wouldn't tire yeh, I'll tell yeh all 
 * bout it." 
 
 The group drew closer to the fire, and the old man 
 began. 
 
CHAPTEK XVI 
 
 THE OLD man's STORY. 
 
 "We come'd from near the Harricane. Yeh don't 
 know whar the Harricane is ? No ? Well, mos' peo- 
 ple don't what I've met. Its twenty miles north of 
 Cleveland, right close ter Georgia. Reckon, stran- 
 gers, none on yeh ^vuz ever thar? Supposed not, but 
 its right smart country roun' thar. I've lived near 
 the Harricane nigh on ter fifty year, an' I wuz a man 
 whin I went in thar with my father from North Caro- 
 lina. All that section 'bout the Harricane wuz then 
 held by Injuns — Cherokees an' sich. You remember 
 they wuz toted wes' by Ole Hickory. Ole Hickory 
 wuz my man. I voted fiu* him fust, las', an' all the 
 time. Pity he wasn't livin' ! What did yeh ask? 
 Yes, I farmed some, but I wuz poor, an' so wuz the 
 ole man ; we never owned niggers, sorry to say. My 
 ole woman's dead. Hez bin nigh outer fifteen year, 
 an' I lived with Ned. Ned wuz my oldest boy. Dan 
 and Dick lived clos' by, an' did some farmin' too ; 
 they wam't much at it though. They did right smart 
 kuntin' in the mountains, though game ain't like whin 
 I fust went ter the Harricane. Wuz Ned, an' Dan* 
 an' Dick all my children? No, stranger; I've one 
 gal livin', an' tother one, purty as a peach, died six 
 tveeks ago. Poor chile, it bruk her heart whin they 
 hanged Bill Smith, her husband. Yes, stranger, 'twuz 
 
 12* 
 
Tr>0 WARREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 th rebels. I've got another son in Texas. Ills 
 name's Jim, but I ain't seen him since afore the ole 
 woman died. He wuz a restless feller, an' I heard as 
 how he got in agin with the Cherokees what used ter 
 be roun' the Harricane when he wuz small. 'Squire 
 Roberts tole me he saw in a paper that Jim wuz hung 
 in Texas. Shouldn't wonder, fur they've killed all 
 my kin but him sleepin' over thar. Glad to know, 
 stranger, yeh think Ned '11 live. Not that life's much 
 ter me now, but I promised the boy we'd go back ter 
 the Harricane an' revenge his father. 
 
 "I'll tell you 'uns all 'bout the 'lection. I'd orter 
 begun thar, but my mine is all a buzzin,' an' I've got 
 a big load on my heart. I hope, stranger, (looking at 
 Robert) you'll never feel as I have. Me nor the boys 
 didn't know much 'bout politics. "We allers voted 
 democrat. Yeh know ole Hickory wuz a democrat, 
 an' that ar's my principle all the time. All our folks 
 voted Douglas ; reckon that wuz all squar'. Wall, 
 glad you uns think so, fur we allers meant right, 
 though none on us, 'cept Ned, has got any schoolin'. 
 Did yeh ask Ned's name besides Ned? Yes? AVall, 
 it's Dawn. Dawn's my name, too. 
 
 *' After the 'lection we thought things wuz all right. 
 We uns heerd all 'bout Lincoln bein' President, an' I 
 tole the boys I vraz sorry it wuzn' t Douglas, an' they 
 all 'gi'eed the hull wuz far, an' we'd git Douglas in 
 some other time. 
 
 " The nex' thing we know'd the rich white men 
 from Coosa an' Ringgold an' Chattanooga wuz a hoi in' 
 meetin's through the country, an' cryin' fur war, an» 
 sayin' the time had cum ter bust the Union. I tole 
 Tim Cheatham, at a meetin', that ^\'uzn't my doctrine, 
 
THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 151 
 
 an' he stopped an' called me a traitor, an' said he'd 
 sii(^ot 1113. I wuzn't very much skeered, but tlieboys, 
 knowin' I'd speak out agin breakin' the Union, took 
 me off. 
 
 ' ' They had another 'lection, but as it looked like a 
 fight, the boys an' me staid away, fiu- hundreds an' 
 hundreds of men come over from Georgia, an' voted 
 in Tennessee. Me an' the boys seed how it wuz. The 
 rich men wuz boun' ter break up the Union, an' they 
 wanted ter make it look as if the people wuz willin'. 
 Mos' of my neighbors roun' the Harricane didn't vote, 
 fur 'twuzn't any kinder use. 
 
 " Wall, after this they began raisin' sojers, an' a 
 rite smart of young men what know'd nothin' 'bout 
 the Union or secession, fired up an' went in. My boys 
 all thought like me. They wuzn't agoin' agin the 
 country. One day a feller, callin' himself Cap'n 
 Rusk, with a hull lot more men, come over from Cleve- 
 land an' said he w^anted my boys ter list. Thar wuz 
 only me an' Dick home at the time. No, Dick wuzn't 
 married, he wuz my youngest boy, an' has been help- 
 in' me since I got ole. Cap'n Rusk said ter me 
 when I met him at the door : 
 
 " * Are you ole Dawn?' 
 
 *' I said I wuz the same. 
 
 " 'I understan',' said Rusk, 'that you're a Yankee 
 an' all yer boys.' 
 
 " I tole him I reckoned not, seeln' as I wuz born in 
 North Carolina, an' had lived at Harricane fifty year, 
 an' the boys wuz all riz 'roun' thar. 
 
 " ' Wall,' he said, cussin' awful, ' it don't matter jes* 
 whar yer uns wuz born ter make yeh Yankees. The 
 meanest Yankees I knows on is right har in Tennessee.* 
 
J 52 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " I said I knowed that 'ar wuz true, mosly, fur a lot 
 of men who wuz Yankees by birth was now South 
 bustin' up the Union, jes' coz they owned niggers. 
 
 ** I didn't mean ter rile Rusk, but he got terrible 
 mad, an' said : * I come clar* over har ter see you uns, 
 an' if yer boys don't jine in an' fight fur the confer- 
 acy, we'll hang 'era shuah.' 
 
 " I tole him I reckoned not much would he hang. 
 My boys wouldn't lie 'roun' an' let folks hang 'em. 
 
 " *"Whar is yer boys?' said Rusk. 
 
 "'I don't know,' says I, *but we uns is 'roun' har 
 purty much altogether the hull time.' 
 
 ** ' Then,' said Rusk, cussin', ' I'll stay till they come, 
 an' I'll wait inside this house fur 'em, an' I'll sen' 
 men over ter the other houses and catch the hull lot.* 
 
 " Then he sent off mos' of the men ter Dan's an' 
 Dick's. Little Ned wuz in my house all the time, an' 
 Dick laid low awaitin'. Now, I owned my o^vn house, 
 an' says I ter myself : ' Mr. Rusk, yer not agoin' ter 
 walk right inter my house without I choose ter let 
 yeh.' I ain't very strong, to be sure, strangers ; les* 
 wise, not so strong as when I wuz young, but I'm jes* 
 'bout as hard to skeer, an' when Rusk got off his crit- 
 ter, I picked up a ax near the doah an' waited. 
 
 **He walked up kinder bold, an' I waited till he 
 come ter the doah, an' I spread myself out. 
 
 *' ' Get outer the way, yeh d — d ole traitor,' said 
 Rusk, catchin' me an' pullin me by the collar. 
 
 " *No,' says I, * this is my house, an' onlessyou uns 
 has the law with yeh, yeh can't go in.' 
 
 " While I wuz speakin' he struck me, an' I fell agin* 
 the wall a-bleedin'. Dick heerd all an' seed all, an' 
 he run out jes' as Rusk cocked his pistol an' wuz pint- 
 
THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 153 
 
 in' it at me. That wuz enough fur Dick. I seed the 
 devil bumin' in his eyes as he picked up the ax, an' 
 with one hand swung it clar inter Rusk's head, and he 
 fell right afore me. Then Dick tuk hold of me, an' 
 afore I knowed it, we wuz in the house an' the doah closed. 
 " « Now, dad, we uns have ter fight,' said Dick, an* 
 he run to a winder with his rifle. We'd lots of arms, 
 an' I took my own gun. I'm hard to beat, strangers, 
 with a rifle. "When we looked out we seed some of 
 Rusk's frien's a-tryin' to tote him off, an' others watch- 
 in' fur us. Jes' as soon as we showed our heads they 
 fired. Then me an' Dick let drive, an' I tell yeh, 
 frien's, Rusk's men didn't make nothin' by it, neither. 
 •' Wall, Ned thar, (pointing with his pipe to the 
 wounded boy,) he loaded the guns fur us, an' fur nigh 
 an hour we had some tall shootin'. Then the res' of 
 Rusk's men came up a yellin' an' cussin' like mad, an' 
 swarin' they'd bum the house. Dick saw one of them 
 a crawlin' up with some fire, an' he jes' riz ter the winder 
 an' drawed a bead an' blazed, an' then I heerd another 
 shot, an' Dick jumped back inter the room an' fell 
 dead with a bullet-hole right over his right eye. 
 Strangers, I can't tell yeh how I felt then, but I didn't 
 grow weaker as I'd a-thought aforehand. Me an' Ned 
 lifted Dick a-one side, an' Ned took his gun an' Dick's 
 place at the winder. 
 
 Bimeby, I heerd some shoutin', an' Ned looked out 
 an' saw his dad an' Dan an' some others a-gallopin' up 
 like mad. I tell yeh, strangers, whin I heerd that I 
 purty near dropped. But Rusk's men jes' scooted 
 when they seed our frien's. I don't know how many 
 we hit beside Rusk, but a right smart, I reckon, seein' 
 as how thar wuz seven blood-puddles outside. 
 
154 W^ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Wall, Dan an' Ned an' Bill Smith an' four others 
 of our frien's came, an' I showed 'em Dick dead on the 
 floor with his eyes open an' the red blood a-droppin* 
 from his hair. I can't tell yeh how we all felt. I tole 
 the boys jes' how it stood, an' we staid thar an' talked 
 and 'vised with one another. Ned's wife, she wuz 
 over with her little girl, Sally, a-seein' Dan's wife, 
 who' d had a baby two months afore, an' when she an* 
 Sally got back, they took on awful. 
 
 " AVall, strangers, I don't like ter tire yeh, but this 
 is the fust chance I've had ter talk, an' it kinder light- 
 ens my heart to tell it all over ter frien's. 
 
 *'We knowed thar wuz no kinder use in stay in* 
 aroun' the Harricane, so we left Ned at home with his 
 mother, an' Bill Smith's wife bein' far gone an' skeery, 
 he couldn't leave her, so he staid back too, an' prom- 
 ised Dan ter see to his place till w^e seed what wuz 
 goin' ter happen. That night we took ter the hills 
 an' staid out a week afore we heard any news. Then 
 Role, 'Squire Robert's nigger, hunted us up an' tole 
 us that the night afore they cotched Bill Smith an' 
 hung him in front of his outi house, an' his wife a-ly- 
 ing sick on the bed, and that little Ned, over thar, 
 wuz in prison. I'll tell yeh. strangers, that come hard. 
 TV'e all kinder got desprate. We couldn't live all tlie 
 time in the hills, fur game wuz skeerce, an' I knowed 
 by the tracks in the woods they wuz huntin' us, an' 
 would tree us bimeby, an' mayhap hang dan an* Ned 
 without seein' their waives. As fur me, I jis' wanted 
 ter die, but I thought on Ned, over thar, an' wanted 
 to live fur him. 
 
 " Wall, we 'greed ter go down ter the Harricane, 
 an' we got in that night, an' thar wuz no one aroun' 
 
THE OLD MAN'S STORY. 155 
 
 cept our fren's, an' had n't been all clay. TTe went 
 asleep. I wuz with Ned ; an' I tell ye my ole bones, 
 like my heart, wanted res'. But I could n't sleep for 
 thinkin' of Dick, an' Bill Smith, an' poor little Ned, 
 over in Cleveland in prison. 
 
 "Afore day jes' a little we wuz all woke up by men 
 a rappin' an' a yellin' at the doah. Ned cum over 
 whar I wuz crawlin' inter my clothes. * Dad,' says he, 
 •they've come fur we uns. I'll not be tuk. I'll 
 fight till I die.' 
 
 " I tole him not to shoot, I wuz sick of blood, an' 
 he might get off without ; but he would n't hear me. 
 Says he, * Dad, I know they 've come ter kill, an' I '11 
 make 'em pay for it. You lie low while I try ter run 
 for it ; an' if I die, or never get back, take care of 
 the two Sals an' little Ned,' — meanin* him. His w;fe 
 tuk on awful ; but 't was n't long. I heard him kiss 
 the two gals ; then a kinder quick he opened the 
 doah, an' with his rifle clubbed he leaped out. I 
 could hear the shots, an' yells, an' blows, an' groans, 
 an' then a cheer from a lot of 'em, like devils, an' I 
 knew Ned wuz killed, 
 
 " This is the hardest part ter git over, frien's. No 
 one could tell me aforehand I'd a-lived through it. 
 They hauled me out an' showed me the body, and the 
 two Sals run out an' put thar arms aroun' it, an' took 
 on as if their hearts 'ud break. The day wuz jest a 
 clarin' in when they put handcuffs on me, an' rhey 
 made me walk ter Cleveland, though the sun wuz hot 
 an' my heart seemed like a ton in my breast. 
 
 *' They couldn't make me feel wus whin they tole 
 me Dan wuz dead. He died a fightin', though, seein' 
 as how I heerd them speak about four dead men, an' 
 I know'd Ned killed two. 
 
156 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Wall, when we got ter Cleveland they put me in a 
 kinder celler whar thar wuz more prisners, an' in thar 
 wuz little Ned. 
 
 " Me an' him staid in thar a month, an' at night 
 he slept in my arms. Yes, they give us plenty ter eat, 
 sich as it wuz, but little Ned wanted the sun an' the 
 air. I could see him wiltin' away afore my eyes. I 
 don't know why they let us out ; thar wuz nine boys 
 an' ole me with us. They'd 'a let me out afore if I'd 
 swar to support the Confederacy, but I tole 'em the 
 Union cost me too much ter sell out so cheap. 
 
 * ' Did yeh ask if any tuk the oath ? "Wall, yes, right 
 smart. Poor critters, I didn't blame them. It's a 
 hard thing ter be crowded in the dark, an' layin' on a 
 cold floor an' thinkin' of one's little ones. 
 
 *' No, they never tried us. Ned an' I went back ter 
 the Harricane, an' Bill Smith's wife an' baby that died 
 whin she did, an' as soon as it wuz bom, wuz layin' in 
 the groun' with her husbau'. 
 
 *' The two Sals wuz glad ter see us, an* took on 
 right smart. They'd had a tough time, but 'Squire 
 Roberts helped them. The 'Squire wuz fur the South, 
 but he wuz a good man fur all. 'Twas he 'vised me 
 ter start North, a promisin' ter take car' of the two 
 Sals. 
 
 "I've kept you 'uns up now longer than I'd orter, 
 but 't would take till day fur me ter tell all about the 
 rough times me an' Ned had comin' here. We met 
 lots of Union men in the mountains, an' all 'peared 
 ter suffered jes' like us. Six weeks, strangers, we uns 
 have been travelin', hungry an' footsore an' sleepy. 
 An' Ned never let down once. Whin I played out 
 he toted my gun, an' whin it wuz cold sleepin' if *he 
 
THE OLD MAN SLEEPS. 157 
 
 mountains he hugged up near an' put his arms roun' 
 ter keep me warm. 
 
 " Yer sure Ned ain't bad hurt?" asked the old man, 
 looking earnestly at Robert. 
 
 ' ' Yes, my friend ; I am sure he will soon be all 
 right." 
 
 " Wall, I feel better than since Dick wuz killed afore 
 my eyes. I think, now that I've got this off my mind, 
 I kin sleep." 
 
 So saying, the old man lay down on the blankets 
 Archy had prepared, and was soon sleeping as souidly 
 as little Ned. 
 
CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 PREPARING FOR ACTIVE SERVICE. 
 
 A few days after the incidents narrated in the pre- 
 vious chapter, Captain Warren returned with his com- 
 pany to Camp Dick Robinson. There little Xed was 
 placed under the care of an Army surgeon and the 
 old man's heart was made glad by the prospect of the 
 speedy recovery of his boy. 
 
 Eighteen hundred and sixty-one passed slowly avv'ay 
 leaving behind its record of humiliating defeat to the 
 Union forces. More than one sans^uine heart beijan 
 to feel the gloom that hung over the nation, and none 
 fully appreciated the task that lay before the national 
 forces. Though Robert WaiTen had benefited by his 
 six months training in camp and on the scout, he 
 longed to be brought in direct contact with the 
 enemy ; not that he courted danger, but he knew that 
 fierce battles must be fought, and the sooner the bet- 
 ter. This desire possessed all the troops in that por- 
 tion of Kentucky, and they hailed with joy the rumor 
 that passed through the camp early in January, 1S02, 
 that they were to move south against ZollicoiTer. 
 The southern general, with his Tennessee, Mississippi, 
 and Alabama brigades, at the same time threatened 
 an advance in force, and it :^'as soon evident tliat a 
 collision Avould take place. 
 
 On the IGth of the u'cnvh W^r'-e'x'^ v^PvDPa>- ttni* 
 
ON THE SKIRMISH LINE. 152 
 
 porarily attached to the First Cavalry, was sent out to 
 picket the approaches near Logan's Cross Roads, a 
 few miles north of the Cumberland River, along which 
 the enemy were strongly encamped. There is no la- 
 bor so trying to green troops as picketing close to the 
 enemy, particulaly when they know them to be strong 
 and their own support weak. 
 
 As Captain Warren stationed his men he said to 
 Robert, who was in charge of one of the posts : 
 
 " Sergeant, you are about to have your wish. If 1 
 am not mistaken you are on the scene of your first 
 battle." 
 
 *'Yes, and perhaps his last," said Gaines, in a 
 tremulous voice. 
 
 " T have prayed for this day, Captain," said Robert, 
 " and if we fail it will not be my fault." 
 
 While he spoke his lips grew firmer, and an ashy 
 pallor came over his face. It was evident he was 
 controlling some strong feeling, no doubt fear, but he 
 did control it, and turned his face toward the camp 
 of the foe. 
 
 During the afternoon and night there was no firing, 
 but the cold weather, the miserable roads, and the 
 proximity of the enemy were more trying than an 
 actual fight. On the following morning General 
 Thomas came up with five regiments and ordered the 
 cavalry to push beyond Logan's Cross Roads, in the 
 direction of Mill Springs. They had advanced but a 
 short distance when the line was halted and a skirm- 
 ish line formed. Robert at first thought it an un- 
 necessary precaution of his captain, but he had hardly 
 dismounted and advanced to position before he saw 
 a long, thin line of gray advancing fi'om the woods 
 
160 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 in the direction of Fishing Creek. The enemy came 
 up within four hundred yards, and as they approached 
 Kobert Warren felt a lump rising in his throat, and a 
 cold perspiration stood in great beads on his fore- 
 head. He tried to keep cool, but the hand that held 
 his carbine trembled, and his teeth chattered as he 
 bit the cartridge. He looked to his left, and there 
 stood Gaines, with an expression of age on his face, 
 and beyond him little Ned, evidently cooler and 
 happier than any man in the line. The skirmish line 
 of the enemy halted, and little puffs of smoke were 
 seen to come from their pieces, followed by the shai*p 
 whistle of the balls and the subsequent report of 
 the arms. The sound took a load from Robert War- 
 ren's heart, and his nerves grew steadier, but as he 
 raised his carbine to fire he could not draw a bead, 
 and a haze seemed to surround his weapon. He had 
 often shot a deer, off hand, at five hundred yards, 
 and it was not considered by him a wonderful ex- 
 ploit. Now he fired at a mark equally good, and 
 recovered his carbine to watch the result, but there 
 stood the rebel skirmisher coolly loading his gun, 
 and evidently unaware of the desperate attempt on 
 his life. This harmless firing continued for some 
 time, and there was an evident desire on both sides 
 to get closer together. The enemy advanced a hun- 
 dred yards to a scrubby fence, and their deliberate 
 firing soon told — one of Warren's men fell shot 
 through the head. The enemy were dislodged by a 
 flank movement of a company of the Tenth Indiana, 
 and then a common feeling of humanity and curiosity 
 drew the cavalry around their dead comrade, the 
 first man they had seen killed in battle. They leaned 
 
«» WA?. A TERRIBLE THING." 161 
 
 or. their arms, officers and men, and, with pale faces, 
 watched the little stream of blood trickling from the 
 soldier's forehead. Even the cool Captain Warren 
 looked agitated, and joined in the expressions of 
 regret. This unmilitary proceeding was speedily 
 ended by the enemy's firing on the group, and the 
 old positions were taken. The enemy, under cover 
 of an old log barn, got still nearer to the Union 
 skirmish line, and two men were wounded, and be- 
 came objects of curiosity and wonder to their comrades 
 in reserve. Captain Warren saw the enemy's advan- 
 tage, and sent Lieutenant Tucker with twenty men 
 to dislodge them. The lieutenant made a detour, 
 and, taking advantage of a ravine, he struck the 
 enemy in the log-building unexpectedly, and drove 
 them out pell-mell. Tucker's men cheered lustily, 
 and were evidently delighted over something besides 
 taking the bam. The whole line advanced, but it 
 did not retain much order after nearing the building, 
 for Tucker's men hailed them with the cry of " Two 
 dead rebels ! two dead rebels ! " The men went over 
 the fence in great glee, and v;ithout order, to see this 
 wonderful sight. Sure enough, there, in front of the 
 building, lay two men in gray, one dead and the other 
 faintly trying to swallow the water which one of 
 Tucker's men held to his lips, but his efforts ceased 
 in a few seconds, and with a sigh he fell back dead. 
 As they clustered around their dead enemies, there 
 were no expressions of delight ; wonder and sorrow 
 seemed depicted on every face ; and G-aines, who had 
 placed his hand over the heart of one of the men, 
 expressed the feelings of his comrades when lie said, 
 " War is a terrible thing." 
 
 14* 
 
162 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Captain Warren soon saw that it would not do to 
 let his men run along the line every time a comrade 
 was killed, or gather in groups to see a fallen enemy, 
 so he again formed his line, but only to fall back 
 before the rebels, who now advanced with the confi- 
 dence of superior numbers. 
 
 The Union picket line was forced back towards 
 Logan's Cross Roads, till dark, though there was no 
 more fighting that day. As Robert Warren lay in his 
 tent that night he could not sleep, but tossed nervously 
 about on his blanket, and when he dozed he would 
 see before him the dead comrade with the blood 
 oozing from his forehead, and the men in grey lying 
 dead with their glazed eyes looking up at him. 
 
 As he tried to change the current of his thoughts 
 by thinking on other subjects, the fly of his tent was 
 raised and Archy crawled in on hands and knees. 
 
 " Is that you Archy ? W^hy are you not asleep ?" 
 tsked Robert, as he sat up on his blanket and pulled 
 his overcoat, which answered for a pillow, with his 
 boots, under his arm to support him. 
 
 •♦ Mauss Robut, I didn't want to 'sturb yeh," began 
 Archy, " but I've suthin' ter say." 
 
 ** Well, Archy, out with it," said Robert, seeing that 
 Archy hesitated. 
 
 " I'se just come up frum de kernel's, whar I wuz 
 talkin' wid his boy Jake, and I heard 'era say dat 
 dare'd be an awful fight to-morrow," said Archy in an 
 amazed voice. 
 
 "What?" asked Robert with a laugh, "did Jake 
 say that, or the colonel?" 
 
 "No, marse, de kernel. Him an' a lot more officers 
 wuz at the fire, an clar to Heaven, I felt my bar rlsin* 
 
" 'BACKEH 'LL DO IT." 163 
 
 when dey spoke about de fight, and de lots ob dead, 
 and de bullances fur de wounded, an de fearful times. 
 I wish sartin we was back at Jeff'sonville agin." 
 Archy said this sentence as if he meant it. 
 
 Kobert tried to console him, but made the matter 
 worse by saying *' you need not feel frightened, 
 Archy, you will be away to the rear, where there is 
 no danger." 
 
 ' ' Mauss Robut, I ain't skerry. Reckon yeh knows 
 dat, but Pse frighten' sartin 'bout yeh; I'se been a 
 prayin' as I come bar yeh'd be right smart sick afore 
 mornin'— backer'll do 't, I heard a man say so in the 
 
 company." 
 
 As Archy concluded his queer suggestion, Robert 
 laughed so as to waken Gaines, whose snormg had 
 hitherto shown that he was asleep. 
 
 " Why, what's the matter?" asked Gaines in surprise, 
 as he sat up, rubbing his eyes and yawning, and 
 Robert, despite Archy' s " please mauss, don' t," related 
 the merit of tobacco as a producer of sickness, and 
 Archy's suggestion about using it. 
 
 "That's a very praiseworthy idea, Archy," said 
 Gaines laughing, "but if every man uses it who is 
 scary, this army will be the sickest lot of men on 
 top of the earth to-morrow, if there is tobacco enough 
 to go around," 
 
 -Well, 'pears dar's no use in talkin'," said Archy, 
 rising to go, " seems yell's both boun' fur ruin. Wid de 
 help^'ob de Lor', I'U pray to-night, and I'll beg at de 
 Trone when yeh's in de battle. Good night, Mauss 
 Robut and Mauss Andy." And Archy stole out, 
 followed by the good-night of his friends. 
 
 How soundly soldiers usually sleep after the long 
 
164 T\^ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 march or agitating picket, and how utterly wretched the 
 feeling is when before day on a cold winter moniing 
 the rat-tat-tat of the " long roll," with its increasing 
 velocity of sound from a score pf dnmis, startles the 
 sleepers, and the bugle call of " boots and saddles" 
 awakens the weary riders. Old troops never hear it 
 without a curse, and to new troops the unsuspected 
 *' long-roll" sounds like a death-knell. 
 
 On the early morning of the 19th the alarm call 
 rung through the camp at Logan's Cross Roads, and 
 the excited, half-rested little army hurried into stiff 
 boots and wrinkled clothes, and, seizing their wea- 
 pons, stood ready for action. Captain Warren's 
 company was retained with General Thomas, and the 
 battalion of the First hurried to the support of the 
 videttes at a gallop. News came in that the enemy 
 was advancing in force. Quick as thought the tents 
 were struck and loaded, and the wagons sent to the 
 rear. Through the thoughtfulness of the officers, 
 coffee had been prepared for the men, and, after the 
 camp was cleared, they gathered in groups about the 
 fire and swallowed the thick, refreshing beverage 
 from their tin cups and ate with a relish their dry 
 hard-tack. It is well to pray, but bad to fight on an 
 empty stomach. 
 
 Before six o'clock, and still dark, the advanced 
 cavalry were struck and fell back before the enemy. 
 The Tenth Indiana and Fourth Kentucky pushed on 
 rapidly to support them, and General Thomas, giving 
 directions to the Tennesseeans under Carter, and 
 McCook of the Ninth Ohio, rode with his staff at a 
 gallop to the front. Captain Warren's company had 
 not been moved, and his men stood by their horses 
 
THE BATTLE ON ONCE MORE. 65 
 
 nervously listening to the battle, and roll, and shout, 
 from the front. Just as Van Cleve's Second Minne- 
 sota passed Warren's company, an aid galloped up 
 and ordered him to advance and take a position on 
 the left of Kinney's battery, which was stationed in a 
 corn-field towards the left of the line. This order 
 was hailed with a shout, and Captain Warren reached 
 his position and dismounted his men in time to see a 
 grey column dashing across the field against Fry's 
 Kentuckians. Kinney opened fire as the enemy came 
 parallel to his guns, and they fell back in disorder. 
 Then began a tempest of fire from the rebel lines, 
 accompanied by shrill yells. Carter took position in 
 the rear of Kinney, and for one hour the two lines, 
 within musket range, poured in terrific volleys of mus- 
 ketry, while the artillery tore great gaps in the 
 opposing columns. Under Carter's fire the enemy 
 began to give way. Then a deafening cheer was 
 heard to the right of Carter's brigade, and Major 
 Kammerling, at the head of the Ninth Ohio with 
 fixed bayonets, rushed upon the confused rebels and 
 swept them from that portion of the field. As Eobert 
 saw the gallant Ohioans dashing across the field, all 
 his impulses were to mount and join in, but he had to 
 await orders. The enemy rallied in irregular masses. 
 and for about twenty minutes concentrated a fire of 
 musketry and artillery on the troops immediately in 
 front. The ammunition ran short in several regiments 
 on the Union right, but they stood exposed like vet- 
 erans till served, and then the order came from G-en- 
 eral Thomas for the whole line to advance, and a 
 cheer that made the heart leap came in response. 
 Into the saddle leaped the cavalry. Kobert had time 
 
166 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 to lo k to the left, when the Fourth Kentucky seemed 
 cona;jletely mixed up with the enemy on the road. 
 Directly in front of Captain Warren the Twentieth 
 Tennessee rebel was falling back in confusion, and the 
 order was given to charge them. Quick as a flash, 
 the sabers were drawn, and the horses with swift 
 bounds rushed upon the enemy. There was no order 
 In the line, but it dashed, an irregular, iiTCsistible, mass 
 upon the demoralized foe. Robert felt as if his veins 
 were on fire, as he heard the cheers of the men around 
 and saw on every side the shattered enemy reeling, 
 bl^«eJing, and flying — turning at times to discharge 
 their pieces in their flight. That feeling was vrorth a 
 life time of pain. A number of prisoners were sent 
 to the rear, and Captain Warren was still pushing after 
 the Tennesseans, when he was halted by an aid and 
 ordered to the Somerset road. He fell back, exposed 
 to a fire from the rebel artillery, and on gaining the 
 road he learned that General ZollicofFer was lying 
 dead in front of the Fourth Kentucky, where Colonel 
 Speed S. Fry had encountered and shot him. There 
 was but little fighting after this. The rebels fled, 
 throwing away their arms and covering the road with 
 piles of useless baggage, which old soldiers never 
 carry. The wounded lay in the fence corners by 
 scores, and the dead were scattered along the roads 
 and in the woods. This indeed was a battle and a 
 victory, and as the horsemen pushed towards the Cum- 
 berland, picking up stragglers and removing obstruc- 
 tions from the path of the pursuing army, Eobert 
 felt that the flag was approaching the Brazos. 
 
 The retreat of the shattered rebel army into Tennes- 
 Bee under Crittenden has become a matter of history, 
 
THE VICTORY OF MILL SPRINGS. 167 
 
 and small as was the battle of Mill Springs compared 
 with subsequent engagements, it will still stand promi- 
 nent as the initial victory of the war. It solved the prob- 
 lem of sectional valor and falsified the southern boast 
 of superiority. Four regiments, the Tenth Indiana, 
 Fourth Kentucky, Second Minnesota, and Ninth Ohio, 
 bore the bmnt of the battle, and by their persistent 
 valor routed an army of twelve thousand men, who 
 the day before the contest deemed themselves a match 
 for forty thousand *' Yankee hirelings." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE SITUATION AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 After the defeat of the enemy at Mill Springs, or 
 Somerset, or Logan's Cross Road — for the fight is 
 known by all those names in the North, and as Fishing 
 Creek in the South — all southeastern Kentucky was 
 evacuated by the Confederates. It is said that 
 Huniphrey Marshall had a force near Cumberland 
 Gap, but as that Quixotic individual was too fat to 
 ride on horseback and too unwieldy to march on foot, 
 he was forced to retreat in a buggy into Tennessee 
 before GarfiekFs Ohioans. 
 
 Buell and Grant, in the western part of the State, 
 were busy to improve the advantage gained by Gen- 
 eral Thomas. Grant was coming up the Ohio from 
 Cairo, and proposed to ascend the Tennessee and Cum- 
 berland rivers with his forces and Foote's gunboats. 
 Mitchell was pushed out toward Bowling Green, and 
 evidences of an active campaign were seen on every 
 hand. 
 
 A few days after the fighting at Mill Spring, Ser- 
 {^eant Robert Warren was somewhat astonished by an 
 orderly's informing him that General Thomas wished 
 to see him at his headquarters. Robert spent a few 
 minutes attiring himself in a soldierly way, and re- 
 ported to General Thomas, whose headquarters were 
 in a house near by. He was admitted at once and 
 
WARREN AT HEADQUARTERS. 169 
 
 found the commanding officer and General Sclioepf 
 busy looking over a map. General Thomas returned 
 Robert's salute, and then said : 
 
 " I understand, sergeant, you are from Texas, and 
 familiar with the South and its people." 
 
 The general waited for a reply, and Robert answered, 
 •* I am, sir." 
 
 " I learn also," continued the general, looking up 
 from his map, "that you made several very success- 
 ful reconnoisances toward the enemy's lines, and even 
 inside of them last summer." 
 
 *' I acted on detached service for a while, sir, and I 
 thmk the information I obtained was reliable," said 
 Robert, looking at the general, whose eyes were bent 
 on the map. 
 
 " Sergeant, what educational advantages have you 
 had, what is your profession, and what were you en- 
 gaged in before the war?" 
 
 Robert briefly related his business, giving a short 
 sketch of his leaving Texas, and concluded : " I studied 
 engineering, particularly, when at college, in the hope 
 of being able to make the profession useful in Texas." 
 
 " You are just the man General Buell wants, and 
 about whom he has written." The general hesitated 
 a moment, and looked down at his map ; then glancing 
 quickly up, he continued : " Sergeant, it should be the 
 desire of every good man to aid our cause by every 
 means in his power." 
 
 •' Yes, sir ; by every honorable means," said Robert. 
 
 ** Exactly," said the general with emphasis. " Now, 
 you must know — at least I do — that you can be im- 
 mediately of more service to the country in another 
 position than that of carrying a saber in the ranks.'* 
 15 
 
170 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " I don't understand you, sir. I prefer to be a pri- 
 vate." 
 
 "And there is no more honorable position than a 
 private's," said the general, getting up from his chair. 
 
 " But I desire you to aid us, sergeant, by becoming 
 attached to our present very imperfect secret service." 
 
 **Do you mean as a spy, sir?" asked Robert, color- 
 ing to his temples. 
 
 " Sergeant, many give the members of the service 
 that name, but in military matters we are all spies ; 
 our object is to learn all about the enemy and cover 
 our own acts. Every means taken to do so, if success- 
 ful, is legitimate. I can say that I would not hesitate 
 to enter the enemy's lines, feeling sure a great advan- 
 tage, and a consequent saving of life, could be gained 
 by it. Now, sergeant, are you willing, knowing the 
 dangers, to take a risk for the sake of our cause ?" 
 
 Robert toyed nervously with the tassel of his sword- 
 knot, his eyes cast on the ground. All were silent 
 for nearly a minute ; then he looked full at the gen- 
 eral, and answered : " I am." 
 
 *' That is good. Report here for orders in one 
 hour." 
 
 Robert hastened to Captain Warren's tent and 
 related to him his interview with General Thomas, 
 and his decision to obey his request, for no officer 
 could command an enlisted man to do such service. 
 
 ** You are going on a dangerous mission, cousin 
 Robert," said the captain, "but I feel you can do our 
 cause great good. I will, no doubt, see you soon, as 
 it is reported we are going to join General Buell. 
 You must write me, however, by every opportunity. 
 Now, cousin, sorry as I am to part with you, I will 
 
IN THE SECRET SERVICE. 171 
 
 help to get you off.'* Stepping to the door, he called, 
 "Archy, come here, your master wants to see you." 
 
 Archy came in, his sleeves rolled up, and his black 
 face shining from exposure to the camp-fire, where he 
 had been cooking. 
 
 "Archy, I am going away for some time, and I am 
 sorry that I cannot have you with me. At least, not 
 at present. You must take good care of the captain 
 and of your horse till I get back," said Robert, look- 
 ing up kindly at the faithful fellow. 
 
 " Mauss Eobut, I'd radder go, sartin. Mauss Allen 
 has heaps o' men to kar fur him, an ye h've none but 
 me. I does n't want to part wid yeh, Mauss Robut." 
 Archy was evidently agitated, and the cousins tried 
 to console him with the hope that he would soon see 
 Robert again, and that his stay would be very short. 
 The captain promised, in addition, to read him every 
 letter his master wrote. 
 
 Archy said but little in reply. At the request of 
 his master, Don was speedily saddled, and the few 
 articles of clothing necessary for the journey folded 
 in the saddle-bags. 
 
 A few minutes before the time to report to General 
 Thomas, Robert bade his friends good-bye, and mount- 
 ing Don, who looked fit for the commander of all 
 the armies to bestride, he rode to the headquarters. 
 As Robert entered, the general looked up with a 
 pleased expression, and handed him a letter to Gen- 
 eral Buell. Then, giving him instructions as to trans- 
 portation and transit papers, the general shook his 
 hand, and Robert Warren passed out of the tent. 
 
 His transportation, as he desired, enabled him to 
 take his horse. A two days' ride took him to Nicholas 
 
i/t WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 villw» '4 11(1 ill seven hours lie was in Louisville, where 
 he rt.^-'')rted to General Buell. Here Robert under- 
 went unothcr examination, and was somewhat sur- 
 prised when General Buell told him he must report at 
 once to General Grant, then at Paducah. Steamboat 
 transp^jrtation was provided to Paducah, with a letter 
 in cipher to General Grant. Before twenty-five hours, 
 Robert was at Grant's headquarters, awaiting further 
 instructions. General Grant read his letters from 
 Thomas and Buell, and taking a keen survey of Robert, 
 he seeb-ied satisfied. 
 
 "An* you acquainted with the Eighth Texas Cav- 
 alry ?— Rangers, I think they call themselves," asked 
 the geh.eral. 
 
 " Yes, sir ; they are commanded by Colonel Terry, 
 of Ricfimond, Texas." 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 Robert continued : " I am familiar with every foot 
 of ground where the regiment was raised, and know 
 many of the men." 
 
 *'An acquaintance with the individuals is no advan- 
 tage," said the general. Then waiting a moment, he 
 asked, **Do you know General Buckner, or Floyd, 
 or Hanson." 
 
 "No, sir." 
 
 " I am glad you don't. Yesterday some of my 
 Bcouts captured a mail intended for General Buckner 
 and his Kentuckians at Fort Donelson. The mail 
 carrier is here, safe. His name is Turner. You can 
 take the mail in his place." 
 
 The general looked up quickly at Robert, and 
 evinced no disappointment at the pallor which over- 
 spread his face. 
 
CARRYING THE REBEL MAIL. 173 
 
 "With your instructions, sir, I will try," said Rob- 
 ert, a perceptible tremor in his voice. 
 
 "Very well. Now get rested, and I will prepare 
 your instructions. Read and burn them after you 
 have read them. Be guided in the details by your 
 own good sense." The general called Lieutenant 
 Owen, who took charge of Robert, providing him with 
 quarters and refreshments, Robert had a rest for five 
 or six hours, when Lieutenant Owen brought him his 
 instructions. They were to enter Fort Donelson 
 with the mail and ascertain the strength of Pillow's 
 command ; the location and strength of the batteries, 
 and every other fact that might be of importance. 
 He was to return along the river till he met General 
 Grant, and communicate what he knew. He was 
 provided with money and an exact copy of Turner's 
 safeguard, excepting the name. 
 
 Just as it was growing dark, Robert was in the sad- 
 dle and his horse's head turned South. He had 
 doubts about taking Don, but knowing he could rely 
 on him if speed and bottom were necessary, he pre- 
 ferred him to the horse Lieutenant Owen desired him 
 to ride. 
 
 From Paducah he pushed on to Clear Springs. 
 There, crossing the Cumberland by a ferry, he found 
 himself at daylight outside the Union lines, and in 
 the scouting grounds of the dreaded Texan Rangers. 
 He stopped at a double-log shanty on the bank, 
 surrounded by little log corn-cribs, stables, and hen- 
 house, and log fences inclosed the stump-covered 
 fields about the place. His nose, if not his eyes, 
 could detect the vicinity of loggy pigs in the square 
 log pen near the house, outside of which was a shallow, 
 15* 
 
174 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 green pool, where a number of ducks were deludinjj 
 themselves by going through the motions of a wash, or 
 standing on their short legs and making comical e'ftorts 
 at diving. A wagon vrith dirty red wheels stood before 
 the door, and the wheels answered as pegs for the 
 rusty, broken harness that trailed to the ground. A 
 harrow, with several teeth out, leaned against the 
 trough, which was partially filled with brownish water 
 from the clap-boarded roof of the shanty ; and where 
 the water trickled from the trough three children, 
 very dirty and apparently of one age and sex, sat 
 about the pool, earnestly instructing each other in 
 the manufacture of that article which Ir^ aginative 
 children delight to form, when privileged to do as 
 they please on the gi'ound — mud pies. 
 
 As Robert dismounted before the door, a tall, raw- 
 boned man, with a round fur cap, bald in front, and a 
 shirt open at the throat and rolled up at the sleeves, 
 displaying his freckled arms covered with reddish 
 hair, greeted him with, " Hello, stranger I " 
 
 "Good morning, sir," said Ilobert. "Can I have 
 my horse fed here, and get some breakfast for my- 
 self?" 
 
 The proprietor, for such he proved to be, stroked 
 his red beard, squirted a red stream from his mouth, 
 and leaning on the red wagon-wheel with one of his 
 muddy boots raised on the spoke, said : 
 
 "Stranger, we've done a right smart of feedin' of 
 folks of late. I'm willin* to keer fm* yeh, reckonin' as 
 how yer right, but I don't know 'bout Moll." 
 
 " I am willing to pay you liberally, sir, for any 
 accommodations," said Eobert, dismounting. 
 
 The long man, with a mysterious air, motioned 
 
MOLL, THE "SNORTER." 175 
 
 Robert to follow him, and getting to windward of the 
 pig-pen, he turned, and in a hoarse, mysterious whisper, 
 said : 
 
 " Stranger, I reckon yer one of 'em?'* 
 Kobert assured him that he was, though he did not 
 clearly comprehend who the others were. 
 
 "Wall, I knowed yeh wuz one of 'em," said the 
 long man, " coz they's bin round har right sharp of 
 late. But, stranger, Moll hates 'em like hell." 
 
 Robert assured him that he regretted this feeling 
 on the part of Moll, and intimated that a liberal pay- 
 ment for anything they did for him might pour oil on 
 the disturbed waters of Moll's temper. 
 
 "No, stranger, you don't know Moll as I do who've 
 lived with her nigh onto ten year," said the long 
 man in a still lower whisper. 
 
 Robert lowered his voice and artlessly said, " That's 
 true," which statement he might freely make, as he 
 had never set his eyes on the terrible Moll, and but 
 imperfectly understood her relations to the long man. 
 
 " Yer right thar, stranger," sa*a the long man, as 
 if Robert had delivered a lengthy opinion on Moll's 
 character after years of close study. 
 
 "But," he continued, "why are yeh har 'lone? 
 You. fels don't often go 'lone ? " 
 
 Robert did not appear to heed the question, but 
 asked, m a hurried whisper : 
 
 " When were any others here before, and which waj 
 did they go ? " 
 
 " Yisterday, stranger. That's why Moll's so riled 
 this momin'. I think they said they wuz goin' down 
 toward Bowlin' Green soon, but yeh knows more about 
 that than me.*' 
 
17e WAEREN OF TEXA.S. 
 
 Robert said, "To be sure," though he wished in his 
 soul he could say so in fact. Of one thing, however, 
 he was satisfied, namely, that the long man w^as a 
 rebel in his sympathies, and that by his allusions to 
 "them" he meant scouting parties from the southern 
 army. He told him without reserve that he was 
 going to Fort Donelson, and that he had a mail for 
 General Buckner and his men from their friends 
 inside the Yankee lines. He informed the long man 
 that he was not acquainted with the country to the 
 South, and that after he and his horse had been rested, 
 he would pay the long man to place him on the right 
 road, adding in a tone of great confidence, as he laid 
 his hand on the red, hairy arm of his listener : 
 
 "I must get to Donelson by to-morrow night, and 
 it w^ould n't do to tell everybody my business. It is so 
 hard to trust men now." 
 
 "Cussed efyeh ain't right," said the long man, 
 spitting with emphasis through the logs of the pig- 
 pen, to the evident disgust of the porker into whose 
 eye the discharge went. " Cussed ef yeh ain't right. 
 Now there's Moll, stranger, don't trus' Moll if yeh 
 valley quiet. Moll's a snorter." 
 
 Robert promised not to place implicit reliance in 
 Moll, nor take the adder-like "snorter" to his bosom, 
 which statement satisfied the long man, for he imme- 
 diately led the way to the log, earth-floored cabin, 
 called a stable, and while Robert unsaddled the gal^ 
 lant Don, the long man filled the rack with fodder 
 and the little log trough in front of it with com. 
 This done, the long man said to Robert : 
 
 " Reckon, stranger, yer right smart hungry. I'll 
 go and bust it to Moll. Lay low." 
 
A FAMILY SET-TO. 177 
 
 This advice to "lay low" Robert promised to follow 
 by remaining in the stable, while the long man walked 
 out with a brisk air of confidence, which he lost as he 
 approached the double-log shanty, for his motion was 
 hesitating, and before entering he tried to whistle as 
 he adjusted the ragged harness on the red wagon 
 wheel, and cast troubled looks at the log stable and 
 the cabin. He entered, and Robert heard a loud and 
 excited female voice in the double-log cabin, and the 
 long man's voice two octaves lower, trying to soothe 
 his angered wife, for such Robert thought must be her 
 relation to the long man, as only a wife could address 
 him in the familiar manner of the loud-voiced female. 
 He heard the long man say "money" and the snorter 
 "bosh" and "yer a darned lunkhead." After an 
 exchange of these loving epithets for some time, the 
 woman's voice lowered perceptibly, and the long man, 
 looking very red in the face, and chewing tobacco 
 with a wonderful energy, emerged from the shanty 
 and went to the stable. He greeted Robert with a 
 hoarse and excited whisper : 
 
 "I fotched Moll, stranger. She's knuckled right 
 under." 
 
 Robert said "I'm glad to hear it," and intimated 
 that he would be glad to learn how this much-desired 
 result was produced. 
 
 "Wall," said the long man, "I tole her I'd be 
 
 d — d" Here he was interrupted by a call from 
 
 Moll, but seeing he had stopped his sentence at a point 
 which might leave an erroneous impression on the 
 mind of his listener, he finished his sentence as he 
 
 walked to the door : " ef I would n' t join the Tex- 
 
 ans. And what do yeh 'spose Moll said, stranger?'* 
 
78 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert gave up the conundrum at once. 
 
 - Wall, she said I'd be d— d ef I did. But that 
 fetched Moll. When she gets on her high horse I've 
 got the dead wood on her an' swear I'll join the 
 Texans." 
 
 As the long man showed his fur cap at the stable 
 door, the snorter called to him in a loud voice to 
 *' hurry up his stumps and bring along the stranger." 
 
 Robert intimated as he approached the house that it 
 would be very agreeable to wash, a sentiment the long 
 man did not seem to appreciate, for he answered, " Jes' 
 as you say, stranger," and forthwith produced a rusty 
 tin wash-basin, with a thick, stubby handle on one 
 side. He filled it with water from the trough and 
 placed it on a square- topped stump, near the mud-pie 
 factory of the little snorters. 
 
 Robert informed the long man, as he looked at his 
 hands, that soap was desirable ; when the long man 
 said, ** Moll is death on soap," and hurried into the 
 shanty, from which he soon emerged with a dirty 
 saucer half filled with a sort of bro^vn molasses, or 
 gangrened jelly, for it smelled very loud, and glis- 
 tened on the surface mth sickly-looking, prismatic 
 colors. The long man ventm'ed the self-evident in- 
 formation that "the soap was soft," and that "Moll 
 made it," as he laid the saucer on the stump before 
 the fastidious stranger. 
 
 After washing, the long man selected an oasis on a 
 long, dirty towel, under the belief that the spot 
 selected was clean, and Robert went through the 
 motions of drying, then entered the cabin. There 
 was a dense smoke inside and a stifling smell of 
 burning bacon. In the center of the floor stood a 
 
" COMED FRUM FUR." 179 
 
 ^able supplied with blue-bordered stone ware. From 
 an open-faced cupboard that was tilted back at the 
 top against the shanty w^alls, strips of leather bord- 
 ered the cupboard shelves, and the strips were orna- 
 mented at set distances with brass-headed nails. The 
 aails were useful as well as dazzling, for they served 
 to keep the spoons of various sizes and materials 
 apart, which were hung by the necks in the black 
 leather straps. There was a huge fire-place at one 
 end of the shanty, and two monstrous andirons 
 flanked a Dutch oven on the hearth. Through the 
 door, looking into the other wing of the double-log 
 shanty, a glimpse of the floor, covered with a confused 
 mass of bed-clothing, like an agitated sea, could be 
 caught, while Moll, like a siren, stood amid the 
 woolen waves with a piece of glass in her large hand, 
 evidently satisfied with the charms on which the stran- 
 ger was soon to look. 
 
 Moll soon appeared, a large, full-faced woman, with 
 black hair and eyes, and an open mouth that dis- 
 played the jagged ruin of what might once have been 
 a very fine set of teeth. She was about thirty years 
 of age, and her straight, baggy-looking, brown woolen 
 dress served rather to show than conceal her Amazo- 
 nian form. As she entered she addressed Eobert in 
 a loud but not a disagreeable voice, "Momin', stran- 
 ger ! Comed frum fur ?" 
 
 "Good morning, madam. I have come from the in- 
 terior of the State," answered Robert, meekly. 
 
 "See any Union men up your way?" asked Moll, as 
 she opened the Dutch oven and took out a pile of 
 brown com dodgers. Robert intimated that he saw a 
 few at times, when Moll, who hastily removed the lid 
 
180 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 of the overflowing cofiee-pot, with the skirt of her 
 dress about her hand to prevent it being burned, said 
 with energy, "Union men — them's me, I'm a Union 
 man." This was rather startling information, but 
 Robert, supposing she used the word "man" in a 
 generic sense, ventured to say he "knew a great 
 many fine people who favored the Union." This 
 statement had a softening influence on Moll, who 
 soon commenced breakfast. The meal was not tempt- 
 ing, but Robert, w'ho sat near Moll while she poured 
 out the coffee, and handed dodgers and bacon to the 
 little snorters under the table, enjoyed his meal, and 
 praised Moll's skill as a cook. The long man, whose 
 red beard glistened with pork gravy, corroborated 
 Robert's opinion by stating "Moll could discount 
 any woman on the river." 
 
 After breakfast Robert went to the stable, accom- 
 panied by the long man, and finding that the horse 
 was doing well, he sat down on a log and enjoyed a 
 smoke, while he obtained all the information he 
 could about the Texans and the road up the river 
 towards Donelson, with which the long man was 
 evidently well acquainted. The long man, after 
 Robert had learned all he could by questions, ven- 
 tured the information that Moll was from Indiana 
 and dow^n on secession. In proof of this, he cited the 
 following fact : " Thar wuz some Texans bar a few 
 days gone to dinner. One of 'em named Townsend 
 tole Moll he was born North, an' I swar to gracious I 
 thought she'd spring an' strangle him. As it was, kin- 
 der accident like, she spilled the coffee-pot down his 
 back, an' I reckon it didn't make him any more com- 
 fortable for it." 
 
"THEM'S MY SPONSl" 181 
 
 After a few hours* rest, Robert signified his inten- 
 tion to push on, and going to the house with the long 
 man he asked him at the door how much he owed 
 him. The long man looked down and said in a low 
 tone : " Yeh owe me nothin'." Moll overheard him, 
 and shouted out : 
 
 " Nothin', yeh loot ? Am I a-goin' to mess and 
 slave fur nothin' ? Bill Grimes, are you goin' to take 
 bread out of your own childrens' mouth an' give it 
 away fur nothin' ? Not much, while I boss this shanty," 
 said Moll, answering her ovm question. "You've gin 
 enough to them Texas brutes, what's so fond of pork. 
 But I settled with one. Now, stranger," addressing 
 Robert, " fork me over ten dollars," and Moll assumed 
 a threatening attitude, as if about to enforce her 
 order, while she reached out one muscular hand for 
 the money. 
 
 Robert opened his pocket-book and handed her ten 
 dv>llars in Confederate paper. 
 
 "Do you call that money?" asked Mrs. Grimes, in- 
 dignantly throwing the bill on the ground. " Give 
 me ten dollars in jingling cash, or ye' 11 never git yer 
 saddle agin. I've took care of that !" 
 
 " Moll don't be a foo don't be so funny," said 
 
 the long man, correcting himself. *'The stranger's 
 money's good." 
 
 " Yes ; good to light the fire. Come, stranger, fork 
 over," said Moll, more peremptory than before. 
 
 Robert laughed and handed her two five-dollar gold 
 pieces, which mollified the snorter, for she said : 
 *' Them's my spons !" and immediately went to the 
 well, down which Robert's saddle was hanging by a 
 rope. 
 
188 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Don was soon saddled, and Robert monnted, when 
 he turned and said : " Mr. Grimes, am I to have the 
 pleasure of your company as a guide ? I will pay you." 
 
 " No you ain't," said Moll, with anger in her black 
 eyes. Then turning to the long man she commanded : 
 " Say no, you ole fool ; say no !" and the long man 
 said " No," when Robert raised his hat, wished them 
 good morning, and Don galloped up the Clarksville 
 pike. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 UNWELCOME VISITORS. 
 
 About 10 o'clock in the evening, after a rapid ride 
 of nearly sixty miles, over a rough, undulating coun- 
 try, and along a poor road, Robert drew rein at a 
 plantation near Clydetown, Trigg County, close to the 
 Tennessee line. 
 
 The proprietor of the place was a tobacco planter, 
 and a decided States-rights man, who had only to be 
 acquainted with Robert's business to aid him by every 
 means in his power. He learned that a few hours' 
 ride next morning would take him to Fort Donelson ; 
 so he saw his horse cared for, ate a hearty supper, and 
 went to bed at once, telling the landlord, after he had 
 paid him, that he would start in the morning before 
 that gentleman was up. 
 
 Robert had scarcely removed his boots after going 
 to his room, when he was startled by the tramping of 
 horses outside his window, accompanied by the fa- 
 miliar jingle of Mexican spurs. He raised the sash 
 cautiously, and could hear a jargon of voices close by, 
 followed by the clanging of sabers on the gallery. 
 The men had fastened their horses and entered the 
 house, where they appeared to be well acquainted 
 with the landlord, who met them at the door. 
 
 " Why, Lieutenant Bentley, I'm right glad to see 
 you," was the greeting of Mr. Webb, the landlord. 
 
184 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 •' What's the news ? Are the Yanks advancijsg yet, 
 or ain't they going to come?" 
 
 " I shouldn't be surprised if they would be along 
 right soon," said the man addressed as Lieutenant 
 Bentley. ' ' But we're just returning from a scout, Mr. 
 Webb, and we're all hungrier than coyotes in winter. 
 Can't you get us something to eat and keep us for the 
 night?" 
 
 "How many of you are there?" prudently asked 
 Mr. Webb. 
 
 *'Six, entirely," said the lieutenant; "but you 
 needn't be particular; we're used to it." 
 
 Mr. Webb appeared to imderstand what the lieuten- 
 ant was used to, for he said : " I've only one spare 
 bed in the house, but," said Mr. Webb, in a tone of 
 recollection, " thar's a stranger that's got a whole bed 
 to himself in thar. He's going to the fort with a mail, 
 an's a fine fellow, riding a slapping black horse. I 
 reckon you can sleep with him, or take the spare bed 
 and let Townsend sleep with the stranger." 
 
 *' We will attend to the horses and supper first, Mr. 
 Webb. The sleeping will be easily arranged," said 
 the lieutenant, as the Texans went out to attend to 
 their horses, and Mr. Webb, after ordering a servant 
 to prepare something to eat for the six hungry men, 
 rapped at Robert's door. On its being opened, Mr. 
 Webb apologized for disturbing his guest, and said : 
 
 *' I don't know if you w^ould object, sir, but there 
 are a lot of Texans here — good fellows — and you would 
 save one from sleeping on the floor by making room 
 for him in your bed." 
 
 Robert replied, " Certainly, Mr. Webb, there is room 
 here for three, if necessary ; but as I am a light sleeper 
 
A STRAGETICAL SNORE. 185 
 
 send my room-mate here as soon as possible, so as to 
 get rid of the noise." 
 
 Mr. TVebb thanked Eobert for his kindness, and re- 
 minded him that as he started early in the morning 
 he would have a cold snack prepared and left on the 
 table for him, and the boy would attend to his horse. 
 
 Robert had not yet undressed, but as soon as Mr. 
 Webb left, he finished disrobing, and tying all his 
 clothing in a bundle he placed the bundle on a chair at 
 the foot of the bed beside his mail-bags. Then he ex- 
 amined his pistols, and placing them under his pillow, 
 he laid down, but not to sleep. He heard the Texans 
 coming back from the stable, and shortly after the 
 clatter of their knives and forks and the boisterous 
 language of the rangers. 
 
 As soon as they had finished supper, Bentley called 
 out: 
 
 " Say, Mr. Webb, I'm ready to go to roost ; where 
 am I to sleep?" 
 
 Mr. Webb answered: "The gentleman with the 
 mail has no objections to one ; he said two, but that 
 would be an imposition. Then two can sleep on the 
 floor and three in the spare be^" 
 
 " Then I'll sleep with the stnmger ; so here goes," 
 said a voice that sent a cold thrill through Robert. 
 
 " No you don't, Townsend," said Bentley, pushing 
 him back, " that's my nest for this night," and he un- 
 buckled his spurs and belt, and taking a candle en- 
 tered Robert's room. That individual was feigning 
 sleep, with the clothes drawn half over his head and 
 his face to the wall, while he imitated, capitally, that 
 difficult and torturing sort of snore where the sleeper 
 takes a long, whistling breath through his nose, ho^'? * 
 16* 
 
186 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 it for an instant in his lungs, as if to consider its qual« 
 ity, and then, as if satisfied that it smells bad, slowly 
 puffs it out through his mouth. 
 
 It did not take Bentley long to undress, blow out 
 the light, and leap into bed, muttering as he did, •' That 
 is one devil of a snorer !" 
 
 Robert started up as if sruddenly awaked, and grasp- 
 ing Bentley 's arms in his vice-like grip, said in deep, 
 gruff tone : "Hello, who is this?" 
 
 " It 's me, stranger — Bentley. By thunder, what a 
 grip you have ! Webb said it was all right. " 
 
 "Oh! I beg yom- pardon,'* said Robert. "I was 
 asleep and dreaming of danger." 
 
 " Well, all I 've got to say, friend," said Bentley, 
 laughing, "if you're as powerful as that when you're 
 dreaming, I 'd pity the fellow you got yom* hands on 
 in anger when awake." 
 
 "One gets excited, you know," said Robert, in his 
 assumed voice. Then continuing, he asked, as he 
 turned from the wall: " Do you belong to the army, 
 Bir?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Bentley, "I belong to the Eighth 
 Texas, Colonel Terry, Wharton's battalion, and jest 
 about the best men ever got into this infernal State." 
 
 " I expect they are. I have heard them highly 
 spoken of," said Robert. "What part of the State 
 did you come from? I ask because I traveled in 
 Texas some two years ago," 
 
 ' 'You do n't say !' ' said Bentley, in surprise. " Why, 
 we come pretty much altogether from Brazoria and 
 Fort Bend counties. Were you ever down in that 
 region, stranger?" 
 
 " Yes. I had a delightful time hunting down there 
 
IN CLOSE QUARTERS. 187 
 
 with a young man whom I knew at school. His name 
 was WaiTen — Robert Warren, of Gonzelletta. No 
 doubt he is here with you, for I know him to be a 
 positive man who would not remain out of such a con- 
 test as this." 
 
 Robert was drawing him on. 
 
 " I 'm right glad to know you 've been in our parts, 
 
 Mr. ." (Robert supplied the word "Turner.") 
 
 *' Yes, Mr. Turner, it 's next to meeting an old friend. 
 But your friend Warren turned out bad," said the 
 lieutenant. 
 
 " I am sorry to hear that," said Robert, in a low tone. 
 
 " Well, I was, too ; for Bob Warren had many good 
 qualities. He was handsome, rich, and well educated. 
 I might say, too, that he was one of the bravest men 
 I ever met ; but the fact is he went against secession 
 strong. Ths night of our voting on secession, he met 
 three men on the road who had opposed him during 
 the day, and with the aid of his big black boy Archy — 
 you may remember him ; supposed you would ; he 
 was a noticeable nigger — Avell, they killed one of the 
 men dead and wounded the others, one of them so 
 bad that he died ; the other one is now here in the 
 house." 
 
 " Indeed,' ' said Robert, interrupting him, in smprise. 
 " What is the man's name w^ho is here ?" 
 
 "Townsend," answ^erod the lieutenant. 
 
 " I do n't iinow him," said Robert. 
 
 " Wall, you miss nothing, for this fellow Townsend 
 
 is a d d beat — a renegade Yankee. I have no 
 
 faith in them. He did n't join us till a month ago, 
 and then he came on to avoid being drafted." 
 
 *' You astonish me, sir, about Warren," said Robert, 
 
188 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ill genuine surprise, but with a disguised voice. "But 
 ' how did he come to get away?" 
 
 "Just boldness, d d troldness, Mr. Turner. 
 
 There was a reward offered for him, and I tracked liim 
 to a settlement up the river, whar he was the day 
 after the murder, a putting on airs. Why, he drank 
 a toast plum agin us, and made the others join him, 
 though they did n't see the joke till I explained it." 
 
 " I am still more amazed. I hope I am not keeping 
 you awake, lieutenant." 
 
 " Not at all," replied the lieutenant. *' I am glad 
 to find a sensible man to talk to. Then I followed 
 him to Marshall, and I saw him when he rode in with 
 his boy and a fellow named Gaints. Thar was lota 
 of Union men thar ; so I did n't go for him in day- 
 light, but waited for the night. Well, somehow he 
 got suspicious, and left before dark. I got some fel- 
 lers to follow him, but he dodged them, and got into 
 some swamps near Caddo Lake. Shortly after a flood 
 came and dro^vned him and the others. We found 
 one of their dead horses and some of their clothes ; so 
 I reckon they Ve gone to that place whar all Yankees 
 have got to go." 
 
 *' Wonders will never cease, lieutenant," said Rob- 
 ert, " but your conclusion is correct. Before long w<^ 
 shall see a host of Yankees following in the tracks of 
 this man Warren." 
 
 " I reckon, stranger, you come from Kentucky, by 
 your talk," said the lieutenant. 
 
 *'No ; I came originally from South Carolina," re- 
 plied Robert. 
 
 " The deuce you did ! I tell you she 's a bully St « *^«. 
 I wish Kentucky was like her." 
 
A GARRULOUS BED-FELLOW. 189 
 
 " How many men have you in the Eighth Texas, 
 lieutenant, and where are they stationed?" 
 
 " We have about sixteen hundred, and they are sta- 
 tioned all along from Bowling Green to Columbus, 
 scouting. I tell you the Yanks do n't know how to 
 scout. "We nabbed some of their men not long ago, and 
 it vv ould have made your head swim to see them swing.'* 
 
 Robert intimated that such a sight would be a rare 
 treat, and then said, 
 
 *' I am going to Fort Donelson with a mail in the 
 morning. Hov^r long will it take me to get there if I 
 start at four o'clock?" 
 
 " You can get thar ready by eleven, but, if you want 
 company, I 'm going down in the afternoon. I have 
 to report to Wharton. Between me and you, I think 
 I am to be sent inside the Yankee lines." 
 
 "' A perilous but necessary duty," said Robert ; then 
 continuing, " I suppose we have a good force at Fort 
 Donelson, in case of an attack?" 
 
 " I thought we had nigh on to fifty thousand, but I 
 heard Pillow's chief of staff say to-day at Dover that 
 we had only twenty-four thousand, including Forrest's 
 cavalry." 
 
 *' I am sorry to hear that," said Robert. "Have 
 you any idea of what they are going to do?" 
 
 "Well, the supposition is now that the Yankees 
 will attack Bowling Green, Then we '11 join Albert 
 Sydney Johnston, and move down the Cumberland, 
 slap into the Yankee country. That's Wharton's 
 idea, and he got it from good authority." 
 
 Robert turned towards the lieutenant and laid his 
 hand affectionately on his shoulder as he said, 
 
 *' Now what would be the shortest route for oie to 
 
190 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 take to the fort? I do n't want to be troubled with 
 pickets, and guards, and the like, for I am in a hurry. 
 I want to get back to Lexington in a week, and will 
 have enough trouble with the Yankees, without being 
 bothered by my own friends." 
 
 " See here, Mr. Turner, I ' ve got a pass in my pocket 
 allowing me to go through the lines at any time. You 
 take it ; I can make out I 've lost it, and get another 
 when I want it." 
 
 "No, my good friend," said llobert, feelingly, "I 
 will not put you to any trouble. Hurried as I am, I 
 would not bother a gallant soldier." 
 
 This decided the lieutenant, who leaped out of bed 
 and fumbled with his pants till he found the open 
 sesame paper, which he handed to Robert, and Rob- 
 ert got up and put it in his pocket, uttering profuse 
 thanks as he did so. 
 
 The lieutenant told him not to mention it, and said : 
 *' Mr. Turner, you are a good fellow. Hanged if your 
 voice do n't sound at times as if I 'd known you all my 
 life, and I keep trying where to put you, but as I never 
 saw you before to-night, of course it's nonsense. 
 Haven't you met fellows like that yourself?" 
 
 " Oh, very often," said Robert, as he thought how 
 much Bentley had seen of him before, and how little 
 to-night. 
 
 Both men remained quiet, as if desiring to go to 
 Bleep, but Robert's mind reverted to Gonzelletta. 
 Bentley had left there more recently than himself. 
 He might learn something about his family. 
 
 "Excuse me, lieutenant," he said, "but I cannot 
 get that fellow Warren out of my head. I remember 
 his father and sister. His mother, too, was a fine old 
 
ALMOST UNDISGUISED. 191 
 
 lady ; and, if I remember rightly, lie was attached to 
 
 a sweet girl named Miss Boardman." 
 
 ** Your memory is good, Mr. Turner; but it would 
 be a long story to tell you all. The old man shielded 
 his son, and he was sent to jail." Bentley stopped sud- 
 denly, for Robert called out, " Gracious heaven !" and 
 gi'oaned as if in agony. 
 
 " What's wrong, Mr. Turner? "What's wrong?" said 
 Bentley in terror, leaping out of bed. Robert sat up 
 and clutching his fingers till the nails entered the 
 flesh, he conquered his feelings, and said : "Nothing, 
 lieutenant ; but sometimes I am taken with a pain in 
 the heart, and it comes sudden, like the blow of a 
 dagger, and then is gone. I've just had a stroke, but 
 it's past. Lie down, lieutenant, I will let you sleep, 
 and I will feel better for being quiet. My lo'ng ride 
 and anxiety have upset me. Lie down, lieutenant." 
 
 The lieutenant did lie down, first, however, offering 
 to bring "Mr. Turner" a drink, or send for a doctor. 
 
 A few remarks about Robert's complaint, and words 
 of genuine sympathy from the lieutenant, and they 
 said "Good night," the one to sleep, the other to think 
 of the grey-haired prisoner on the Brazos, and to pic- 
 ture to himself the terrible sequel of the story Bentley 
 had just begun. But he only forgot himself for the 
 moment ; he felt that all his strength and coolness 
 and courage were now required for his desperate un- 
 dertaking, and it would be foolish to weaken himself 
 by other thoughts. Still through the long hours, as 
 he lay beside the man who once had sought his life, 
 and whom a word v»^ould awake to vengeance, his mind 
 turned again and again to the desolate home and the 
 grey-haired man in prison, and the fatal knowledge in 
 the heart of his sleeping companion. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 AGAIN ON THF ROAD. 
 
 While the clock was striking four, Kobert hurriedly 
 rose, without waking his bed-fellow, and dressed. 
 Going to the room where he had eaten supper the 
 night before, he found the "snack" which Mr. Webb 
 had promised awaiting him. The boy was up and 
 announced his horse as just saddled. 
 
 It was a dark, cold morning, and Robert's spirits 
 were anything but light as he turned Don's head 
 southward. By daylight he had crossed the State line 
 and entered Stewart County, Tennessee, and before 
 eleven o'clock he had reached Dora, four miles south 
 of Fort Donelson, and on the Cumberland River. He 
 put up at a little out-of-the-way tavern, and saw that 
 his horse was put in a stall where he would not attract 
 attention, knowing that the Texans remember a horse 
 better than they do a man. He found the tavern full of 
 soldiers, swaggering and swearing in a manner pecu- 
 liar to the uneducated men of the Mississippi Valley. 
 Satisfying himself that there were no Rangers in the 
 bar-room, he walked in, and stepping to the counter 
 asked for "something to drink." Looking around, 
 he noticed a young fellow with a frank, manly face, 
 and nodding, Robert invited him to join him, which 
 the young man very willingly did, first discharging a 
 huge quid of tobacco from his mouth. Robert was 
 
"CHUCK FULL OF CANNON." 193 
 
 fortunate enough to secure a room to himself, and to 
 this he invited his loquacious acquaintance, ordering 
 more liquor to be sent to his room, a thing which 
 'delighted the landlord and the Mississippian, for such 
 the young man jDroved to be. 
 
 "Where mout yeh be going?" asked the young 
 man, after they had entered the room. 
 
 Robert assumed the vernacular peculiar to the Mis- 
 sissippians, and replied : 
 
 ' ' Jes' as soon as I kin git a little rest I 'm agoin* 
 up ter the fort. I 've got a mail for ole Buck an' the 
 boys from Kaintuck. I reckon they '11 all be kinder 
 glad to har from home. What's your regiment, 
 friend ? " 
 
 "I belong to the Second Mississippi, under Forrest. 
 Mos' of our men are up atDonelson," said the young man. 
 
 *'I reckon yeh know right smart of people up thar. 
 Got millions of men, I reckon, in the fort?" said 
 Robert, filling a glass with whisky and handing it to 
 the young man, who took it, and this time econom- 
 ically held his quid in his hand, and restored it to his 
 mouth after he had drank. 
 
 "Wall, we hav'nt got so many men, friend," said 
 the yoimg man, drawing his coat sleeve across his 
 lips, *'but I think we've got 'nuff to clean out every 
 d — d Yankee in the land." 
 
 This was certainly modest in the opinion of Robert, 
 and he ventured to say : 
 
 " I know we can lick the Yankees, if we Ve only 
 got lots of cannon. Cannon is the thing, after all !" 
 
 " Yer head 's level thar, friend," said the young 
 man, looking very wise, " an' I can tell yeh Fort 
 Donelson 's chuck full of cannon." 
 17 
 
194 T7ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert looked up in wonder, and the young man 
 repeated, " Yes, friend, chuck full of cannon. Now 
 E know all about that, kase I counted 'em only Sun- 
 day last." 
 
 He then went on to name the batteries and enume- 
 rate the number of guns in each, and the size. This 
 information was by no means reliable, and could only 
 be of use in coiToborating other facts which Robert 
 hoped to obtain. He plied the Mississippian with glass 
 after glass, till, overcome, he fell upon the floor, and, 
 hiccupping the praises of his entertainer, he fell asleep. 
 
 Robert threw him on the bed and searched his 
 clothing, but found on him nothing that would add to 
 his information. He determined not to go up to the 
 fort till after dark, so pulling off his boots, he lay 
 down beside the drunken Mississippian, and, despite 
 dinner-gongs, bugs, and drunken broils, he slept till 
 after sundown. He was aroused by the racket made 
 by the Mississippian in his search for the bottle, 
 which he had purposely hidden before lying down. 
 
 He rose much refreshed, and gave the soldier the 
 bottle, telling him to di'ink what was left. After a 
 by no means hearty supper, he ordered his horse, 
 and, learning the direction, he started for Fort Don- 
 elson. 
 
 With his hat slouched and his great-coat collar 
 turned up, he rode at a sharp trot for about three 
 miles, when he was brought suddenly to a stand by 
 the peremptory ' ' Halt ! who goes there ? " of an 
 armed guard. 
 
 Robert pulled in his horse, and, in a gruff voice, 
 replied " A friend, with a pass.*' 
 
 Without being ordered to dismount, the guard took 
 
"HALT!"— THE FORT REACHED. 105 
 
 his pass, and, with one hand on Don's bridle, he 
 called the coiporal of the guard. That individual 
 soon came with a lantern, and, glancing at the pass, 
 he hurriedly raised his head and lantern, and in a 
 hearty voice said : 
 
 " Hello, Bentley, glad to see you, old boy !'* 
 
 The light soon revealed his mistake, and in an ex- 
 cited tone he said, 
 
 " You a prisoner ! Guards, seize that man !" 
 
 Robert explained, but it was of no avail, and just 
 as he was about to start for the fort, a prisoner, he 
 heard the same command of " Halt !" and the voice 
 of Bentley answered the challenge. The corporal 
 recognized him, and went up to ask an explanation, 
 while Robert pulled lower his hat and higher his col- 
 lar, for the night, to him, was bitterly cold. 
 
 Bentley's account agreed with Robert's, when the 
 corporal apologized, and handed his late prisoner a 
 small flask, begging that he would drink to their bet- 
 ter acquaintance. Robert made a show of drinking, 
 and thanked the corporal, while he praised his sol- 
 dierly vigilance. 
 
 " Yes, friend," said the corporal, " I know my duty, 
 and we must be careful. It would raise hell with us 
 if the Yanks could get a good spy to report every- 
 thing in Fort Donelson. Between us, I do n't like 
 the looks of things at Paducah, if reports be true." 
 
 It was cold and dark as the two Texans rode along 
 laughing over the difficulty Robert had just escaped. 
 How different were their thoughts, their motives, 
 their duties. They passed several other guards with- 
 out trouble, and entered the fort by a road along the 
 river front. After riding about four hundred yards 
 
J 96 WARREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 Bentley pointed out General Buckner's headquarters 
 and shaking hands with Robert, he promised to call 
 on him in the morning, and rode off in another 
 direction. 
 
 Before General Buckner's house there was a guard, 
 to whom Robert expressed his desire to see the general. 
 The guard called an orderly, and the orderly took in 
 Robert's letter. Reappearing in a few minutes, he said, 
 *' The general wishes to see the courier." 
 Leaving the orderly to hold his horse, Robert en- 
 tered, and found the general seated before a table 
 covered with maps and papers. The general was a 
 florid, compactly-built man, with a soldierly face and 
 carriage. Robert had assumed the name of Roberts, 
 and as such was introduced to a heavy-set man with 
 a smooth face and a lai^ge soap-lock of black hair 
 plastered down on his large, protruding forehead. 
 This was Roger Hanson, of Kentucky, a man about 
 fifty years of age, and exceedingly free and cordial in 
 his manner. Robert noticed, as Colonel Hanson ad- 
 vanced to take his hand, that he walked lame, the 
 effect of a duel before the war. The colonel was 
 very inquisitive, but Robert answered or evaded his 
 questions with skill. He was from Campbell County ; 
 had lived in Covington ; had friends in Lexington ; 
 was there and was introduced to Colonel Hanson at a 
 large States-rights meeting where Colonel Hanson 
 Fpoke after his return from the east. He remembered 
 that Colonel Hanson went east a Union man but came 
 back in favor of secession. He quoted some of Colonel 
 Hanson's speech, approved his course, and conse- 
 quently won the heart of Hanson and the respect of 
 the listeninof Buckner. 
 
AT BUCKNER'S HEADQUARTERS. 197 
 
 While Robert and Colonel Hanson were conversing, 
 the general v/as sorting his own letters, and he finished 
 reading one of some length ,about the time the con- 
 versation appeared to lag. 
 
 " I am very glad to get these letters at this time, 
 Mr. Roberts," said the general ; " they contain much 
 valuable and to me surprising information." 
 
 He continued to read, and Rabert, with a child-like 
 innocence of military etiquette, questioned the kind- 
 hearted Hanson about the troops, the strength of the 
 fort, and other facts, all of which he noted and con- 
 signed to his powerful memory. 
 
 After remaining at General Buckner's quarters for 
 about an hour, during which time the general was busy 
 with his letters. Colonel Hanson thoughtfully sug- 
 gested that Mr. Roberts and his horse might be tired 
 and hungry, and as Mr. Roberts did not deny the state- 
 ment, the general apologized, and calling his orderly 
 directed him to see that Mr. Roberts was cared for, 
 and also to put Mr. Roberts's horse in his own stable. 
 
 As Robert was about leaving he turned, and, in a 
 respectful tone, said : 
 
 " General, the circle expects my return in one week 
 from to-day. I will need to start just as soon as pos- 
 sible." 
 
 ' ' I will see that the mail is distributed at once, and 
 any letters to return ready by to-morrow night," said 
 the general as Robert walked out to partake of his 
 hospitality. He was conveyed to a log house contain- 
 ing several rooms, one of them belonging to the or- 
 derly, which that individual willingly turned over to 
 Robert, for his heart had been made glad by a letter 
 from home. 
 
 17* 
 
198 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert desired no supper, and from choice went at 
 once to bed, but he did not sleep. He was preparing 
 his plans for the morrow. Every sound was listened 
 to, every word noted. During the long night he lay 
 on his cot thinking of his dangerous position, or grad- 
 ually letting memory and imagination run in other 
 channels, till he was back at Gonzelletta. Once happy 
 Gonzelletta ! where as a boy he had chased the red 
 deer on the flowery prairies and swam the San Bernard 
 uncaring for the alligators or gar-fish. Then trouble 
 was a myth, and life full of healthy joys. But 
 times had sadly changed. What were they doing at 
 Gonzelletta now? Had they released his father — 
 his generous, pure-hearted father? He wondered 
 if they had heard the story Bentley related about 
 the lakes. Did they think him dead ? Did Amy 
 weep at the sad news of his death ? But he would 
 rejoice their hearts yet. He would one day return 
 with the flag and the untom star, and, as he thought 
 of that, he clasped his hand to his breast and satisfied 
 himself that the tatters of the Brazoria flag were 
 there. His poor mother, he would make her yet 
 look on the troubles of the past as a black dream, 
 making real life brighter for its contrast, and the 
 future lit with happy hope. His father should no 
 more have the cares of the place. He was getting 
 old and weak. His last days must be without annoy- 
 ance and labor. He would smoke with him on the 
 gallery in days to come, with Amy and the rest around 
 them ; and he would relate to the old man the stories 
 of battles and dangers through which he had gone 
 since that fearful night in February, '61. Dear 
 Mary ! He would lead her to forget the false love. 
 
PLAYING SICI 199 
 
 •Some comrade, tried and true, would yet know her 
 and love her. Through all his thoughts Amy ran 
 like the angel of hope, and he pictured her the mis- 
 tress of his future prairie home. Oh ! the liappy, 
 happy future, seen through the eyes of hope, colored 
 with the tints of imagination, who can count the 
 wealth it contains, or wreath laurels more bright 
 than those it holds ? No clouds shadow it. No rough- 
 ness rises on its smooth expanse. 
 
 So passed the black hours of the long night in 
 waking dreams. No sound broke the stillness, save 
 when the guards shouted at their posts " All 's well." 
 Yv^ould that the words were true the world over ; but 
 ere long the thunders of battle v/ill break the still- 
 ness of that fort, and voices that lustily call " All *s 
 well " will weaken and be heard in the rattle of death. 
 
 Eefore morning Robert had matured his plans. He 
 would not appear outside during the day, he nmst be 
 sick. He remembered Archy's receipt the night 
 before the battle of Mill Springs. So taking from 
 his pocket some tobacco, he cut off a piece about as 
 large as a beech-nut, and deliberately swallowed it. 
 Early in the morning an orderly from General Buck- 
 ner brought him a note, which proved to be an invita- 
 tion to breakfast, but Robert could not rise, he was 
 truly and thoroughly sick. A doctor was called in at 
 once, who pronounced Robert to be suffering from 
 prostration and nausea, caused by some long and con- 
 strained excitement. The doctor knew that Robert 
 was a courier before giving the latter part of his opin- 
 ion. Robert took some medicine, and the doctor left 
 him, instructing the orderly to furnish a nurse and to 
 see that the patient was kept quiet. 
 
200 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 General Buckner called to see Kobevt, and regretted 
 his illness, while he ordered the attendant to caiTy 
 out the doctor's directions. Robert assured him he 
 would be well very soon, and attributed the attack to 
 his long journey and the excitement he had been 
 laboring under. He told the general that he would 
 soon be all right, and asked him to prepare the return 
 mail as soon as possible, for he would be ready to 
 mount when ready to leave his bed. 
 
 In the afternoon the doctor, who was attached to 
 Buckner's staff, called again, and seeing that he was 
 disposed to talk, Robert, who felt really lonely, begged 
 him to remain with him, whereupon the kind-hearted 
 physician sat down, remarking as he did : 
 
 " You will be all right in the morning, Mr. Roberts, 
 if you remain quiet." 
 
 " Yes, doctor, but I hope to leave early in the morn- 
 ing, and I am very much disappointed that I cannot 
 see the fort. I think my inquisitive friends at home 
 will be sadly disappointed at my ignorance of this 
 important place, particularly as I have not an idea of 
 what a genuine fort is like." 
 
 The doctor laughed as Robert ceased speaking, 
 remarking at the same time : 
 
 '* Mr. Roberts, you lose nothing by being in bed, 
 for you could gain but a faint idea of this place in a 
 hasty survey." Here the doctor was inteiTupted by 
 the attendant, who said Mr. Bently wished to see Mr. 
 Roberts, but the doctor told him it was impossible, 
 as Mr. Roberts was too sick to talk. After the nurse 
 had gone out, Robert rose on one elbow, and said : 
 
 " Doctor, I want to know just what a fort is Rke. 
 Say Donelson — the trenches, and all that." 
 
CONTRABAND INFORMATION. 201 
 
 The doctor laughed at the earnestness and sim- 
 plicity of his patient, and tearing a sheet of paper 
 from his prescription-book, he sketched what proved 
 to be a very correct outline of the fort, with its 
 guarded approaches. He gave an idea of the scale, 
 the positions of different troops, the magazines and 
 batteries, the weight of the guns at different points, 
 the strong places and the weak, according to the 
 opinions of the engineers, and other facts volunteered 
 by liim or skillfully draAvn out by the patient. Had the 
 doctor scanned Robert's face closely, as he spoke, he 
 would have noticed an expression of intense earnest- 
 ness, for he was now noting every line and fact for 
 future use. 
 
 Robert expressed himself as thankful for the doc- 
 tor's information, and, looking over the plan carefully, 
 he tore it up, remarking, 
 
 *'It would not do for the Yankees to capture me, 
 even with so rude a sketch of the fort as this." 
 
 The doctor smiled, and hoped Mr. Roberts would 
 "never get into the hands of the Yankees." 
 
 A little before dark, Robert, though still quite sick, 
 got up and dressed. In answer to a note of inquiry 
 from General Buckner, he repaired to the general's 
 headquarters, where he found General Pillow, and 
 undei'^-ent another cross-fire of questions, all of which 
 were answered with a respect that vouched for the 
 truth of the replies. General Cuckner told him the 
 mail would be ready by ten o'clock that night, and 
 Rob^^rt infonned him that by that time he would be 
 well enough to leave the fort. 
 
CHAPTER XXr. 
 
 FORT DONELSON. 
 
 Robert had everything in readiness to start before 
 midnight, but he waited till about three o'clock in 
 the morning, when he rode out of the fort, and 
 crossed the river at Dover. His horse was rested, 
 and he felt himself that all immediate danger was 
 passed as he turned south on the Clarksville pike, re- 
 solving not to rest till inside the Union lines. Inside 
 of sixteen hours he had crossed to the Tennessee 
 River, up which, he learned from a rebel scout, Gen- 
 eral Grant was ascending, with a large force, in steam- 
 boats. He came up with the Union advance fifty 
 miles above Fort Henry, turned over his mail, and 
 made a careful report of his valuable information, 
 before seeking the rest of which he stood so much in 
 need. 
 
 Few positions held by the rebels were stronger natu- 
 rally than Fort Donelson. Situated in a bend of the 
 Cumberland, and on an elevation that gave a com- 
 plete command of the surrounding country for miles, 
 it presented an impassable obstacle to the ascent of 
 steamboats on the river, and its reduction by land 
 was thought by the southern engineers to be impos.si- 
 ble. The country around the fort was thickly wooded, 
 and presented no elevations which the batteries of an 
 attacking force could avail themselves of to advan- 
 
NIGHT BEFORE THE BATTLE. 205 
 
 tage. The line of defenses was in the form of a semi- 
 cirole, thg left resting on the river at Dover, and the 
 right on the river six rniles above. Fort Donelson 
 proper crowned a ridge about the center of this cir- 
 cle, three hundred yards back from the river. The 
 space between the fort and river was occupied by for- 
 midable water batteries, bearing on the approaches 
 in that direction. Along the outward line of defenses 
 were seven redoubts supplied with field artillery, and 
 the intervening spaces were obstructed by abattis 
 and trenches. Two creeks flowing eastward and par- 
 allel, one six hundred yards above the main fort, and 
 the other half that distance below, added by their 
 steep clay banks and swollen beds to the strength of 
 the rebel position. Twenty thousand well-armed men, 
 confident of their ability to defeat, on an open field, 
 four times their number of the Yankees, occupied 
 Fort Donelson, with its impregnable earthworks, and 
 the best officers of the South commanded them. Of 
 course they were confident, and laughed when they 
 heard that Grant was advancing from Fort Henry and 
 crossing the river seven miles north of Fort Donelson. 
 
 The afternoon of the 12th saw the head of the 
 Union column across the Cumberland, and the rebel 
 pickets falling back on the fort. Throughout the af- 
 ternoon the blue lines felt their way west and south 
 but, beyond an occasional shot from the pickets, all 
 was quiet. 
 
 On the 13th, McClernand had pushed south 
 toward Dover, feeling of and skirmishing with the 
 enemy, but there was no severe fighting. 
 
 The night of the loth came with a soft, balmy 
 au% and a bright, full moon, shining down from 
 
204 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 a cloudless oky, and reflected on the watchful senti- 
 nels within and the ciiciing lines without, the fort. 
 McOlernand's men had three days cooked rations in 
 their haversacks, and wondered why the attack did 
 not begin. Early in the evening a cheer came swelling 
 from the extreme Union left. The re-enforcements with 
 General Smith and Foote's gunboats were in sight. 
 The long blue lines filed out, the moon flashed on 
 their polished arms, and the bands filled the air 
 with patriotic notes. 
 
 That night saw a grand host resting on its arms, in 
 position for the morning's conflict. McClemand, 
 who had captured Fort Henry, and whose troops had 
 so far done nearly all the fighting at Donelson, held 
 the post of honor and greatest danger, on the right. 
 Next to him, and in the center of the Union line, 
 General Wallace's division was firmly posted, and ex- 
 tending north to the river were the brigades of Gen- 
 eral C. F. Smith, and on the river Foote's gunboats 
 were moored for the morning's contest. The early 
 night passed away, and with it the clear sky, the 
 bright moon, and the warm, balmy air. 
 
 The morning of the 14th came with a cold, 
 biting wind, accompanied by rain and sleet, but the 
 storm of the elements was unnoticed amid the thun- 
 ders of battle. Foote opened at day-break, and the 
 tide of battle swept along the extended circle to 
 McClernand. For three hours there was one continued 
 roar from gunboat and battery, and the rattling vol- 
 umes of musketry rose and fell in waves of sound 
 along the extended line. Gradually the firing ceased 
 on the Union left. The gunboats vrere disabled and 
 sent helpless down the river. 
 
THE SECOND DAY'S CONFLICT. 205 
 
 Throughout the 14th the enemy, who had dreaded 
 the gunboats more than the land forces, were made 
 confident by the defeat of Foote, and came out- 
 side their works with Indian-like yells, and till late 
 in the afternoon the contending forces struggled with 
 varying success. But before dark McClemand had 
 forced the enemy back, and rested his extreme right 
 on the river below Dover, thus shutting off all retreat 
 to the south. The storm of the previous night 
 continued through the day, and the night of the 
 14th came to the fireless, weary army of Grant, 
 with its cutting sleet and biting winds. The clothing 
 of the men was frozen stiff, and the wounded suffered 
 fearfully from the cold ; yet there was no complaining. 
 The army came for victory, and through the terrible 
 night they waited anxiously for daylight, to renew the 
 attack. Through the drifting snow and sleet the 
 gi-ey day dawned on the loth, and again McCler- 
 nand's gallant division received the first blow in the 
 day's battle. The enemy saw they were being cut 
 off, and made a desperate effort to force the First 
 Division from the road. Seven thousand infantry 
 were thrown forward under cover of their artillery. 
 W. H. L. Wallace's and Colonel Oglesby's brigades 
 received the first blow, and fell back slowly, resisting 
 the fearful onset. In the meantime the batteries of 
 Dresser, Taylor, and Schwartz galloped into position, 
 and opening at short range they checked the rebel 
 column, which swung around and struck Colonel 
 Hayne's brigade. For three hours a terrible hand- 
 to-hand fight with musketry at short range stubbornly 
 raged along the front of the First Division. Logan 
 and Smith, Oglesby and Dickey, with their Illinoisans, 
 18 
 
206 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 fought till their amiiumitioii was gone. Ixansom and 
 Dickey, though losing fearfully in men, held their 
 ground. The enemy sent Forrest to charge the 
 Eleventh Illinois, but his success was momentary. It 
 seemed by eleven o'clock a. m. that McClemand must 
 give way, but re-enforcements came from General Lew 
 Wallace in the center, and Ross, of the Nineteenth 
 Illinois, brought in two fresh regiments. The broken 
 line was re-formed. The order to charge sounded along 
 the front, and before the impetuous sweep of Union 
 valor the rebels fled, their dead and wounded covering 
 the line of their retreat. Like a bull-dog ]\IcCler- 
 nand held the river bank, and the first line of rebel 
 defenses before twelve o'clock was occupied by Illi- 
 nois, Indiana, and Kentucky troops. This repulse 
 did not dismay the reckless enemy. They were now 
 fighting for an avenue of escape, and they swept to 
 the left against the brigade of Colonel Thayer of the 
 First Nebraska. General Grant, who had been v.ith 
 the gunboats and Smith's division, reached the center 
 of the field at the moment the stoi-m of battle centered 
 on Lew Wallace's brigades. But no man flinched. 
 Thayer received the onset, and with his men from tlie 
 Northwest and Illinois checked the rebels in his front, 
 and, though exposed to a perfect ton*ent of Are, no 
 colors yielded gi'ound. Hurled back from the Union 
 center, the enemy spent their strength in a wild and 
 useless waste of ammunition. By three o'clock Gen- 
 eral Grant ordered an attack alon^: the line, ooeninn 
 with Smith's division on the left. The order was 
 answered v;ith loud cheei's, and Smith's massed col- 
 umns charged over the rifle-pits, across the abaltis, 
 and into the enemy's ranks, where they planted and 
 
UNCONDITIONAL SURRENDER. 207 
 
 held the Union colors. The news of ^lis success 
 reached "Wallace in the center and McClemand on 
 the right, and, though wearied by cold and hardship, 
 their divisions received the order to charge with elec- 
 trifying cheers, and closed in a death-struggle with 
 the enemy. Night came, still bitterly cold, but the 
 Union troops did not seem to heed it. They were 
 confident of the morning's victory, and in that strong 
 hope every other feeling was absorbed. 
 
 The morning did dawn, but no firing came from the 
 enemy's front. The Union troops strained their eyes 
 to the central fort, where yesterday the " bars and 
 stars" waved in arrogant defiance, and there they 
 saw floating the white flag of unconditional surrender. 
 Two hours passed and the white flag came down, 
 the Stars and Stripes went up to the mast-head, and 
 forty thousand Union troops marched into the scene 
 of their daring and victory. 
 
 During the battle, at his own request Robert War- 
 ren was assigned to a position as volunteer aid on the 
 staff of General Smith, and he had a fine opportunity 
 to witness this terrible battle. The feeling of sicken- 
 ing fear that unmanned him for a time at Somerset 
 came in a milder form, but soon disappeared. He 
 participated in the charge of Smith's division, and 
 as they closed on the enemy he could see the rebel 
 Colonel Hanson limping along the line and encour- 
 aging his Kentuckians by a reckless exposure of his 
 own person. He did not enter the fort, for prudent 
 reasons, till after the thirteen thousand prisoners hr.d 
 been removed or paroled, and then he tasted of a jov 
 that paid him for all the danger. 
 
 It may be well to close this sketch of the fight at 
 Ponelson v/ith a glance at the secret service. 
 
208 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 In reading of a battle during the war the reader 
 pictures to himself the engagement of the three 
 great arms of the service. The thunder of artillery, 
 the rattling fire and irresistible charge of infantry, 
 and the exciting dash, with gleaming sabers, of the 
 cavalry, all go to make up the idea of a battle, and 
 the means by which a victory is gained. In the 
 main this is true. 
 
 But there is another branch of the service, without 
 which the army would be a blind giant, striking blows 
 of equal weight at the lion and the mouse. Ignorant 
 of the topography in its advance, it would rush into 
 meshes from which retreat might be impossible, and 
 disaster certain. A knowledge of the country is es- 
 sential to a general commanding. He must know the 
 strength, and, if possible, the exact position and in- 
 tentions of his enemy. Accurate maps of State and 
 county surveys give a general idea of the topography, 
 but a slight elevation at a certain point, a clump of 
 timber here, a ravine there, a hill or a creek of too 
 small import to attract the attention of the civil en- 
 gineer, may be of vital importance in a battle. Even 
 if all these facts were known to an advancing anny, 
 there are things liable to change, like the position of 
 a confronting army, the numbers, the bridges, the 
 state of the roads, and other things equally essential, 
 which the commanding officer must know to be suc- 
 cessful. The best way to develop the strength of an 
 enemy is to attack him ; but this is the last resort if 
 information is the object, for it is always apt to cost 
 as much as, and sometimes much more than, the 
 knowledge is worth. 
 
 During the war there were two sources of information 
 
THE UNRELIABLE CONTRABAND. 20W 
 
 which our generals availed themselves of, and which 
 may be called the regular and the irregular. Under 
 the head of the irregular, and in the reverse order 
 of importance, may be named the following : First, 
 the refugees, who, from patriotic or selfish motives, 
 were continually pouring into our lines from the di- 
 rection of the enemy. They were generally a very 
 ignorant class of people, with false ideas of distance 
 and exaggerated notions of numbers. If a refugee said 
 that he " saw with his own eyes an army of fifty thou- 
 sand men " at a certain place and marching in a cer- 
 tain direction, it might generally be credited that the 
 enemy was at that point, and marching in the direc- 
 tion named, but the numbers could never be relied on. 
 Another source of information was the deserters, who 
 were always escapi^ig to our lines — sometimes south- 
 em Union men, sometimes northern men, who, resid- 
 ing South when the war broke out, were impressed into 
 the rebel service ; and then again the criminals and 
 unprincipled dregs of the southern army, escaping 
 from the guard-hov^e and justice. The information 
 'ihey gave had to l*^ weighed and sifted with great 
 caution, and accept'td in proportion to the intelligence 
 of the informant and the probable cause for desertion. 
 Indeed, this was ope of the safest ways to get a spy 
 into the opposing lines, though deserters were guarded 
 as closely as prisoners. Valuable knowledge of the 
 enemy could be gained by comparing the examinations 
 of a number of deserters, but as a rule no men knew 
 less about the armies on either side than the great 
 body of the privates. This was particularly true of 
 the rebels. They knew the strength of their own 
 companies or regiments, and the brigade, division, and 
 18* 
 
210 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 corps to which they belonged, butbeyond that, nothing. 
 
 No person was the object of so much ridicule dur* 
 ing the war as " the reliable contraband," and yet 
 some of these people furnished the most valuable in- 
 formation to the Union generals. As a rule only the 
 most intelligent escaped into the Federal lines, and 
 they, in many cases, were waiters in gentlemens' fam- 
 ilies or officers' servants. The negro may not be able 
 to perceive ideas or analyze motives as quickly as a 
 white man, but he is certainly his superior in the mem- 
 ory of words and conversations. So far, then, as the 
 black man repeated what he heard — and one ac- 
 quainted with those people could easily detect any 
 interpolations — his statements could be credited, and 
 the fact tiiat he heard a certain person say so might 
 be relied on. In speaking about what he saw himself 
 there was the same tendency to exaggeration in the 
 negro as in the white refugee. 
 
 Another som*ce of information, and of the most 
 valuable kind, was that obtained from captured mails 
 or intercepted dispatches. The supply of informa- 
 tion from the sources named was often valuable, but 
 always uncertain, and when most needed, the ene- 
 my's lines were most sti'ictly guarded, so that it was 
 difficut to pass them. Each amiy, however, was made 
 independent of these sources of supplying informa- 
 tion by its owii organized secret service corps — known 
 in the army but little, outside of the army not at all. 
 So when a citizen read of a victory won, he never for 
 a moment thought of the cool daring of some fearless 
 Bcout who carried from the enemy's lines the secret of 
 his weakness, and gave half the victory before a gun 
 was fired. 
 
THE SCOUT AND THE STY. 2n 
 
 There is a great difference bet'-veeii the sj y and the 
 scout as such. The scout is always a solder, detailed 
 by virtue of his knowledge of the country or peculiar 
 ^itness for his position. He is usually mounted and 
 always armed. He operates alone or wlih his com- 
 panions on the front, flanks, and often the rear of the 
 enemy, picking up stragglers, capturing niails, inter- 
 cepting dispatches, burning bridges, and frequently 
 harassing the enemy by sudden onsets in considerable 
 numbers. To accomplish a dangerous enterprise the 
 scouts were often led to dress in the most ambiguous 
 uniforms, frequently in that of the enemy, though any 
 dress, not a Federal uniform, could be made to pass 
 for that of a rebel soldier. The Union scouts were 
 as well acquainted with the regiments and brigades of 
 the enemy as they were with those of their own peo- 
 ple, and they often earned passes signed by rebel offi- 
 cers of rank. In detailing men for this hazardous 
 business, courage and coolness were not the only requi- 
 sites ; a knowledge of the country, of the people, of 
 the negro character, and the reproachful terms used 
 against the Union troops, was necessary. The best 
 scouts on the Union side were southern men, or men 
 who had resided long enough in the South to under- 
 stand the people. To the eminently successful scout 
 another great requisite was education, so that he might 
 be able to note and classify every fact of importance. 
 
 The spy was a different individual as a rule. He 
 was not a soldier, for no officer could order a man ta 
 do work that he could not protect him in if captured. 
 Many w^ere spies from the noblest motives, but the 
 majority were prompted by that love of reward which 
 leads men to face death in a thousand forms in the 
 
212 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 hope of gain. He assumed the garb and face of a 
 friend. He blended with his foes, and sometimes oc- 
 cupied some civil position in coimection with the army. 
 While the Union army had a fine system of this kind, 
 it was very imperfect compared with the efficiency of 
 the rebel secret service. The spies of the South were 
 posted from the Gulf to the White House. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE HOME AT GONZELLETTA. 
 
 It was a beautiful evening in the latter part of June, 
 1861, and Mrs. Boardman and her daughter were 
 seated on the gallery, as when our story begins. They 
 had been talking about the death of Mr. Warren and 
 the sad funeral which they had that day attended. 
 They wondered where Robert was, but concluded he 
 had reached Kentucky, as the efforts to capture him, 
 of which they had heard, proved fruitless. Their con- 
 versation was disturbed by the arrival of Henderson 
 Townsend, whose coarse, cunning face was not made 
 more attractive by the evident good humor which he 
 felt. Both rose and bowed coldly as he ascended the 
 steps, but he took no notice of their manner. Seating 
 himself, he pulled a newspaper from his pocket, and, 
 glancing at a paragraph which was made conspicuous 
 by a pencil mark, he said, as his greasy face opened 
 in the form of laugh without a sound, 
 
 "I have some news here— news about Robert War- 
 ren ! Would yeh like to hear it ?" Looking at Amy, 
 he continued, " Coz, if yeh would, sit down an I'll let 
 yeh read it." 
 
 "Amy's face grew deathly pale, and she felt giddy 
 for an instant, but, recovering herself, she sat down 
 beside her mother. 
 
214 WARKEX OF TEXAS. 
 
 Mrs. Boardman took her daughter's cold hand ia 
 hers and said, 
 
 " Mr. TovvQsend, I am interested, with my daugh- 
 ter, in Mr. Warren, and should be pleased to hear 
 any good news you have to bring us." 
 
 "Good news !" chuckled Townsend ; "Wall, I reckon 
 it 's jest 'bout the best news I 've heard for many a 
 day. Miss Amy, yeh knows I've alius been your 
 friend?" 
 
 Townsend tried to look seriously sentimental, but 
 succeeded in looking stupid and brutal, as he uttered 
 his assertion in the tone of a question. 
 
 " Please let that go, and tell us what you know 
 about Mr. Wan*en," said Amy, earnestly. 
 
 "Wall, now, Miss Amy, Bob Wan-en was n't a bad 
 sort of a feller. Some things I liked 'bout him, even 
 if he did try ter kill me. I liked him. Miss Amy, on 
 your account, particularly since yeh ordered me out 
 of this house. I ain't been in since, yeh know." 
 
 " For mercy's sake, Mr. Townsend, tell me what 
 you know. Please let me have that paper," and Amy 
 reached out her hand with an imploring look. 
 
 Townsend held the paper in his freckled hand, and, 
 although too far off for Amy to reach it, he suddenly 
 pulled it back, and, folding it up, put it in his pocket. 
 
 " Miss Amy, I '11 let you see it bimeby, but yeh 
 knows I 'm yehr friend, and do n't want ter give yeh 
 pain. I '11 let yeh see it, but yeh 've got ter answer 
 a question first ; will yeh ?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, Mr. Townsend," said Amy, earnestly; 
 " only be quick, please be quick !" 
 
 " Yes, yehr mighty oneasy. Miss Amy, I see. But 
 supposin' now Ptobert WaiTcn should n't never come 
 
THE BRUTE TOWNSEND. 215 
 
 back, siipposin' he was drowned and I could prove it, 
 and wuz to go on ter Cadder Lake, and bring his 
 body home, an' bury him 'long side the ole man, 
 would yeh like me any the better for it?" 
 
 Townsend had been speaking with his eyes fixed 
 on the lash of his whip, which he was twisting like a 
 snake on the floor. He waited for an answer for some 
 seconds, and looking up he saw Amy's face pale as 
 death, her eyes closed, and her head resting on her 
 mother's breast, while Mrs. Boardman, speechless 
 with alarm, was motioning to a servant who stood in 
 the door. The black girl, evidently as much fright- 
 ened as Mrs. Boardman, expressed her feelings in a 
 prolonged scream, as she saw the corpse-like face of 
 her young mistress, and rushed toward her. 
 
 Mrs. Boardman whispered intensely, 
 
 ** Quick, Kitty ! water ! bring water !" 
 
 Kitty's scream had attracted the household, and 
 water was soon procured, and the fainting girl restored 
 to consciousness. 
 
 As she opened her eyes and saw the anxious face 
 of her mother above her, she whispered, 
 
 " God is too good. I can 't believe it. Oh, mother, 
 you do n't believe it?" 
 
 "No, my child; I can't believe it," and Mrs. 
 Boardman' s eyes did not corroborat'e her words, for 
 they sought the paper protruding from Townsend's 
 pocket. 
 
 Amy saw the glance, and turned to Townsend, who 
 looked frightened and guilty. He heard what she 
 had said, and, without any regard for her feelings, 
 and a vulgar desire to confirm what he had hinted at 
 before, he stood up, drew out the paper, selected the 
 
2^0 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 paragraph, and banded it to Mrs. Boardman. Amy 
 drew it down, and both read : 
 
 " Eetributive Justice ! Mr. Rose, while hunt- 
 ing on the eastern shore of the lake, a few days since, 
 found the skeleton of a horse, and several articles of 
 clothing that had evidently been washed on shore 
 some time ago. One of the articles was a shirt, and 
 was marked ' Robert Warren.' There can be no fur- 
 ther doubt about the fate of the fugitives who were 
 taken to the island by that renegade, Tennessee, last 
 spring, intending to secrete them. All tliree must 
 have perished in the flood that seemed sent by an 
 avenging God to destroy men fleeing from justice. 
 Mr. Rose thinks that by a little search in the cane- 
 brake he would have found the skeletons ; but we say 
 let them rot in the beds of the alligators, after the 
 buzzards have picked the bones, and let our feelings 
 be joy that justice has overtaken villainy, sorrow that 
 the gallows is cheated." 
 
 Both read the paragi*aph over, then re-read it, and 
 Mrs. Boardman stooped and kissed her daughter. 
 Then, handing Townseud the paper, she asked, 
 
 " Is that all the evidence you have of Robert War- 
 ren's death?" 
 
 "Well," replied Towusend, "if that do n't satisfy 
 you, nothing will, 'cept fotchin' the skeleton here and 
 showin* it ter yeh." 
 
 " No, sir ; and that would not prove the identity of 
 the skeleton. Robert Warren was used to floods. He 
 swam the San Bernard when it flowed a mile wide. 
 He saved Johnson — Cooper Johnson — when no man 
 would venture to his aid on the Brazos. Robert 
 Warren is living, and you, sir, will yet see hira and 
 know it to your cost." 
 
TOWI^SEND'S X)ATH. 217 
 
 Towiisend grew a livid ash color, as Mrs. Board- 
 man's ringing voice ceased, and be managed to 
 stammer : 
 
 ** I don't want it ter be true ; I 'd rather not see 
 Wan-en dead." 
 
 " You would rather not see him dead?" said Amy, 
 now restored, and the color returning to her cheeks. 
 *' You, who tried like a cringing coward to assassinate 
 him ! How dare you, sir, come into the presence of 
 Robert Warren's friends with such a lie in your 
 mouth?" 
 
 Townsend walked backward down the steps, as if 
 to be prepared for some attack, and when he reached 
 his horse he shouted : 
 
 "Do yeh both see these eyes?" drawing his hand 
 across them as if to point out the location of his 
 watery vision. *' lliese eyes, so help me God, will be 
 blasted and dead before they ever rest on Bob Warren!'* 
 
 Townsend uttered these words with a fiendish 
 energy, that sent a cold thrill through the ladies and 
 the wondering servants. Then he mounted, and, 
 driving his spurs into his mustang, with an oath that 
 hissed between his gi'itted teeth, he galloped for the 
 road. 
 
 The confident tone, assumed before Townsend, van- 
 ished on his disappearance, and tiU long after dark 
 both mother and daughter sat on the gallery express- 
 ing hope to each other, which their own hearts 
 doubted, and forming theories to account for the 
 newspaper article, which went to prove that the 
 clothing and dead horse might have been on the 
 shore from a hundred different causes, and Robert 
 and his friends be still safe. Yet both had received 
 19 
 
218 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 a terrible blow, and were more than half prepared for 
 the worst that might follow. 
 
 They decided to say nothing abont the object of 
 To^\^lsend's visit to Mrs. Warren or Mary for the 
 present. The death of Mr. Warren, though expected 
 for some weeks, was none the less difficult to bear, 
 and even the black shadow of this late loss would be 
 more than they could endiu-e. 
 
 During the long summer months Mrs. Boardman 
 and her daughter kept their secret, and, by daily 
 visits and constant attentions, they were a great bless- 
 ing to Mrs. Warren and Mary. 
 
 In the latter part of September a visitor called on 
 Mrs. Warren. He was a short, thick-set man, about 
 fifty years of age, with a very thick neck, in whicb 
 swelled cords could be seen in the red skin, looking 
 as if he were holding his breath with an effort, or as 
 if the black silk cravat, folded around the very narrow 
 collar, were choking him. His mud-dark eyes would 
 confirm such a suspicion, for they protruded from the 
 sockets as if about to pop out. His chin and cheeks 
 w^erc beardless, and seemed of a piece and color with 
 his neck. There evidently was not enough skin to 
 cover both and admit of any curves at the cheeks or 
 chin, for they dropped with the thick neck in a 
 straight line. He wore a moustache, that bristled 
 like a piece of decayed blacking bnish, under a flat 
 pug nose, with two large nostrils, that looked as if 
 they terminated in a very black cavern in the back 
 of his head. He wore a silk hat, very high and nap- 
 less, with a very narrow rim, and a turret of very 
 rusty crape above it. His clothes had evidently been 
 made when he was much more slender, for his arms 
 
"WILLIAM WALLACE GASTING, ESQ." 219 
 
 titted iiis coat sleeves like smoked blood puddings, 
 and his vraist necessitated two loop buttons, that 
 vainly strove to bring the edges of his coat together 
 over his protruding stomach. His vest had an 
 apparent antipathy to his pants, and crawled up under 
 his arms, every button buttoned, and his pants recipro- 
 cated, going down so as to leave a very wide isthmus 
 of shirt between the two. His legs were short and 
 badly proportioned, three-fom'ths the length of the 
 sausage-looking extremities being below his knees, 
 where they terminated in a pair of shoes well blacked, 
 and, judging from their knotty, irregular shape about 
 the toes, their owner was a martyr to bunyons. 
 
 This was "William Wallace Gasting, esq.. Con- 
 federate States receiver for the southern counties of 
 Texas, headquarters Kichmond, Fort Bend County." 
 
 Mr. Gasting could not ride on horseback ; no man 
 in Texas walks, so he drove about in a buggy, and 
 thought the buggy more professional for a lawyer. 
 He was the man who had married Mary's New Eng- 
 land governess. He w^as himself from Philadelphia, 
 and was reputed to be wealthy in cattle and slaves. 
 In '57 he was in the legislature, but all previous 
 honors paled before the new one conferred upon him 
 by the Confederate States government. 
 
 Mr. Gasting v/as announced, and as he entered the 
 parlor Mrs. W^arren rose to receive him, but he waived 
 her with a majestic air to a seat, blew his nose on a 
 flaming red handkerchief with a sound like the first 
 two notes of a cavalry charge. Then running two 
 fingers around between his throat and his collar, and 
 stretching up his neck as if he wished to crawl out of 
 his wrapping, like a very large turtle in a very small 
 
220 "WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 shell, Mr. Gasting coughed, sat down, with his ivory- 
 headed cane between his legs, and his hat on top of 
 his cane, and fumbled with his disengaged hand in 
 his breast coat pocket. William Wallace Gasting 
 spoke in a voice that was very sharp and thin, sound- 
 ing as if it originated in the back part of his mouth, 
 his thick throat being too full to admit even a sound 
 without bursting : 
 
 *' Mrs. Warren, I visit you to-day on strictly profes- 
 sional business, madam. Very sorry that sympathies 
 and duties should be antagonistic." 
 
 Mr. Gasting struggled with his necktie and looked 
 at Mrs, Warren as if he expected her to say some- 
 thing, and seeing that she was about to say something, 
 he sympathetically cleared his own throat by another 
 little cough. 
 
 *' What may be your pleasure in visiting me profes- 
 sionally, Mr. Gasting?" asked Mrs. Warren, as Mary, 
 in her mourning dress, entered the room. 
 
 ** 1 have no pleasure of my own, madam. I am the 
 servant of the country. I come to obey the mandates 
 of my superiors, and to do that well will ever be my 
 greatest pleasure." 
 
 Mr. Gasting struggled with his cravat, and turned 
 his protruding eyes inquiringly on IMrs. Warren as he 
 concluded this patrotic speech. 
 
 " And what are the mandates of your superiors that 
 you should come to my house professionally, Mr. Gast- 
 ing?" 
 
 *'To your house? Did I understand you to say to 
 your house, madam?" 
 
 Seeing that Mr. Gasting needed a reply, from his 
 violent struggles, Mrs. Warren intimated that sh« 
 meant "her house." 
 
CONFISCATION. 221 
 
 " I did not come to your house, madam ! This 
 abode and the surrounding property, lately in the 
 ownership of Eobert "Warren, senior, now deceased, 
 and bequeathed to his son Robert, excepting the 
 widow's dower, is by me declared confiscated to the 
 Confederate States government, whose receiver I am 
 for the southern district of Texas." 
 
 Mr. Grasting felt easier after this, for he coughed, 
 walked to the window and spit out on the gallery ; then 
 WTiggling his neck through his collar, he sat down. 
 
 Mrs. Warren, with her v/hite, thin hands clasped on 
 her knees, looked at Mr. Gasting without uttering a 
 word. That gentleman waited till the silence became 
 painful, when he continued : 
 
 " Our government, madam, in its magnanimity, has 
 decided that those who sympathize with the fanatics 
 of the North shall receive safe conduct across the lines. 
 At the same time it has wisely concluded to seize for 
 its own use such houses, lands, or other real property 
 as the person may be possessed of in the limits of the 
 Confederate States, and any debts owed to such per- 
 sons by any citizen of the Confederate States must 
 hereafter be paid to the Confederate States receiver, 
 and any money owed to parties North is also confis- 
 cated for the use of the aforesaid Confederate States." 
 
 " Do I understand, Mr. Gasting, that you are author- 
 ized to turn me out of my house simply because my 
 deceased husband and fugitive son sided with their 
 country?" asked Mrs. Warren, in a calm voice, with 
 her dark eyes turned on Mr. Gasting. 
 
 "Madam, you are naturally prejudiced in favor of 
 your husband and son. You do not comprehend the 
 onenses of which the nation judges them guilty. The 
 19* 
 
222 T\^ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 law is inflexible." Mr. Gasting struggled with his 
 necktie and coughed till the veins stood like cords on 
 his fat forehead. 
 
 In the same quiet voice, Mrs. Warren said : 
 
 " Mr. Gasting, I always thought a trial was neces- 
 sary before a person was judged guilty. I have no 
 power to oppose you ; I can only say that one-lmif the 
 land comprising Mr. Warren's estate belongs to my 
 daughter Mary, and one-half the people on this place. 
 Consequently you can only confiscate my son's half." 
 
 "Very true, madam; but your son's half includes 
 the cultivated portion of the plantation, on which this 
 house stands. I might sieze all the rest, for in my 
 opinion your husband could not make a will after the 
 passage of the act of confiscation. The regard my 
 wife bears your daughter, however, prompts me to 
 step from the line of duty and accept Mr. WaiTen's 
 will, as recently admitted to piobate. The personal 
 property, included by the worda household furniture, 
 I think you can retain." 
 
 Mr. Gasting straightened up and tried to look phi- 
 lanthropic, and concluded by adjusting the flimsy line 
 of collar squeezed above the black cravat. 
 
 "How long can we remain here, sir?'* asked Mrs. 
 Wan-en, a perceptible tremor in her voice. 
 
 " One week, madam, or till after the sale," said 
 Mr. Gasting. Then taking from his pocket a brown 
 envelope, with a red seal at each comer and one in 
 the middle, he handed it to Mrs.Warren, informing 
 her it w^as his commission as " Confederate States 
 receiver." She held it in her hand and looked at 
 him, while he scood up and coughed v/ith more than 
 usunl importance and looked more than usually red. 
 
" THE BLACK, COLD FUTUKE.' ' 223 
 
 Then he spoke with greater deliberation, looking around 
 him all the time, as if addressing a large audience. 
 
 "T, "William Wallace Gasting, Confederate States 
 receiver for the Southern district of the State of 
 Texas, by virtue of the power in me vested, do now 
 and hereby seize, for the sole use of the Confederate 
 States of America, the houses, lands, negroes, cattle, 
 and all other property whatsoever, bequeathed to 
 Kobert Warren, junior, by his father, Robert Warren, 
 senior ; and I do further declare that, on the first 
 Monday in October, proximo, I will sell all such 
 property, at public auction, for the benefit of the 
 Confederate States before named." 
 
 Mr. Gasting took his hat off his stick and coughed 
 himself purple. He looked at Mrs. Warren as if he 
 wished her to speak, but her white, thin hands were 
 still clasped on her black dress and her eyes cast on 
 the ground. Mr. Gasting turned and said : " Good 
 day, madam," and Mrs. Warren whispered " Good 
 day," while the Confederate States receiver hurried 
 to his buggy with the air of a man who had just per- 
 formed a most praiseworthy act. 
 
 With Mr. Warren dead and Robert unheard from ; 
 with their once happy home torn from them, and 
 the black, cold future before them, the mother and 
 daughter sat in the room for some minutes without 
 speaking. They were crushed ; and as Mrs. Warren 
 realized the utter loneliness of her position, in a low 
 wail, she called out : 
 
 " Oh, my God ! my God ! take me, take me !" 
 
 Mary rose quickly and clasped her mother to her 
 breast, and the kiss of the loving daughter opened 
 the fountains of the aching heart, and both v/omen 
 minded their tears, and each triel to chser the othor. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIII 
 
 THE FOUR WOiyiEN IN COUNCIL. 
 
 About an hour after Mr. Gasting left, Mrs. Board- 
 man and Amy came over to Mrs. Warren's on their 
 daily visit. Mrs. Boardman was astonished to see 
 the fresh evidences of grief on the faces of her 
 friends, and at first feared that Mrs. Warren might 
 have heard the story about Robert's death. She 
 soon learned the true state of the case, and, though 
 she felt keenly for her friend, she was rejoiced that it 
 was no worse. She had long desired to have Mrs. 
 Warren and Mary with her, and now she would have 
 an opportunity to carry out her plans. Amy was 
 much more excited, and felt like declaring war upon 
 Mr. G-asting at once, for she said : 
 
 "Don't give up the place, Mrs. Warren. Stay here, 
 and mother and I will remain with you ; and if that 
 hideous Gasting comes again we will put him out. 
 He must not take your home and break your heart, 
 and rob Robert." 
 
 Amy might have continued in this excited strain 
 had not her sobs choked her utterance, and tears 
 come to her relief. 
 
 " It will do no good to oppose them, dear Amy," 
 said Mrs. Warren in a sad tone ; "we are only women, 
 and if you and your mother took decided action in ray 
 behalf it might result in the loss of your own home." 
 
OLD TOWNSJEND., 225 
 
 ''Let them take it if they dare !" said the spirited 
 girL "Robert will be back sood, and then I do not 
 think they will wish to retain what they have stolen." 
 
 IMrs. Boardman laid her hand with a gentle restraint 
 upon Amy's arm and said : 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Warren, I have long wished that 
 we might live all together till after the war, but I did 
 not ask you while I knew there were so many cares to 
 detain you here. I cannot think it wise to oppose 
 those people in any way ; so get everything you de- 
 sire to move in readiness, and send them to my house, 
 and then come yourself. It is your only alternative, 
 for I am sure that heartless man, Gasting, will insist 
 on an immediate sale." 
 
 Mary thanked Mrs. Boardman and agreed that her 
 suggestion was best. Mrs. Warren also consented, 
 and promised to make preparations at once. 
 
 During the following week all the plate and more 
 valuable furnitm-e were moved to Mrs. Boardman's, 
 and Mrs. Warren and Mary only waited for the sale 
 in order to leave. In the meantime a number of men 
 from Houston had called to examine the property and 
 ask questions about the hands, the stock, and other 
 purchasable articles. Mrs. Warren treated them 
 with her usual courtesy and dignity, though it required 
 a great deal of control to meet old Mr. Townsend. 
 He was a long, cadaverous-looking man, with grey 
 eyes and lantern jaws, and a disagreeable whine, with 
 which he closed a sentence with the words "Sure as 
 I live," or "I don't prevaricate — honest." 
 
 Townsend owned a fine cotton plantation up the 
 river, and, with his fifty slaves and eight thousand 
 homed cattle, was considered wealthy. Rough and 
 
226 WARREN" OF TEXAS. 
 
 imeducatecl, he had great natural shrewdness, and he 
 boasted with truth that he never lost in a bargain. 
 As soon as the confiscation act was passed, he looked 
 greedily on the rich plantation and splendid improve- 
 ments of " the Warren place," and determined if it 
 w^as offered for sale to be the purchaser. Among 
 many people in the section there was a strong desire 
 not to trouble Mrs. "Warren or her daughter, but to 
 let them remain quietly in possession of their home. 
 But both the Townsends kept alive the old wounds, 
 and invented lies to turn the people against the War- 
 rens, and in this they were to a great extent success- 
 ful. The elder Townsend learned with unfeigned 
 pleasure of the confiscation of Robert Warren's prop- 
 erty, for it gratified his hatred for the man, and more 
 than this, gave him an opportunity to better his con- 
 dition in the world. His own place was valuable, but 
 he could not retain it and purchase the Warren plan- 
 tation. He did what a shrewd business man would 
 have done under the circumstances, he sold his own 
 place and parted with his stock in order to secure a 
 property infinitely more valuable. Learning that 
 others had been looking for the property, he frightened 
 them off by showing that in case the Yankees were 
 successful the sale would be worthless and the money 
 lost ; but while he spoke of this risk to others he 
 never for a moment permitted himself to doubt the 
 success of the southern cause. Consequently, when 
 the day for the sale came Mr. Townsend had few com- 
 petitors, and with the exception of a few of the older 
 hands, he succeeded in becoming the owner of the 
 Warren plantation, and master of nearly three hundred 
 Blaves — among them Susey and "the pickaninnies." 
 
MARY'S DETERMINATION. 227 
 
 Mrs. Boardman and Amy did everything for thf* 
 comfort of their friends, and Mrs. Warren in a few 
 weeks began to improve under their loving care, but 
 Mary became more pale and thoughtful ; she would 
 often sit with her hands clasped before her, gazing 
 across the prairie to the old home, and looking at 
 times as if her thoughts were far away from Texas 
 and the world. 
 
 One evening as they sat at tea, Mary startled her 
 hearers by saying : " I have an unaccountable desire 
 to leave here and go to Kentucky. I have been think- 
 ing about it ever since Gasting's first visit. You re- 
 member, mother, he said that those desiring to go 
 North would be passed safely through the lines. Of 
 course you could not go. You will be perfectly safe 
 with Mrs. Boardman, and I feel as if this life of act- 
 less suspense would kill me." 
 
 For a few seconds the little party was struck mute 
 by this propostion of Mary ; then Mrs. Boardman said : 
 
 "Why, you silly child, it can't be thought of for an 
 instant," and Mrs. Warren, dropping her fork, looked 
 over at Mary with a startled expression, and said : 
 " My daughter, you are all I have in the world ; don't 
 leave me ; I can't give you up." The warm-hearted, 
 impetuous Amy sprang from her seat and rushing over 
 to her young friend, knelt beside her, and putting her 
 arms around Mary's waist, she said : 
 
 "No, no, Mary! you must not leave us. Don't I 
 love you? Yes, we all love you, and want to see you 
 happy." 
 
 Mary stooped, and, parting the brown hair, kissed 
 Amy's white forehead, saying : 
 
 " My darling sister, what could induce me to doubt 
 
228 WAKREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 your love? This desire to leave is not an impulse, 
 I have thought it all over, and feel it to he a sacred 
 duty. Now, mother, do not look surprised. Let me ex- 
 plain. Here day after day I feel the desire to do 
 something befitting a woman in this war. I wish it 
 were womanly to risk my life that the war might 
 close the sooner, but it is not. I remember how no- 
 bly Florence Nightingale worked for the sick an^ 
 "wounded Crimean soldiers, and what a noble influence 
 her very presence must have had upon them. Now we 
 all get to picturing possibilities to ourselves at times. 
 I do by day, and I dream the same by night. Last 
 night in my sleep I saw Robert carried by four men, 
 and his eyes were closed and the blood dripped from 
 his breast. I thought I asked one of the men if Rob- 
 ert was dead, and he said "no my lady, but fearfully 
 wounded ; he wants a kind hand to nm-se him — come 
 with us." I woke terribly frightened, and I clasped 
 my hands and asked God to guide me, and when I 
 slept again I heard that tall soldier's voice saying 
 "Come, come.'* 
 
 This statement of Mary had a strange effect on the 
 little audience. The tears stole quietly down Mrs. 
 Warren's cheeks, and Mrs. Boardman fidgeted ner- 
 vously with her handkerchief, while Amy rose and 
 walked thoughtfully to the window. The silence 
 might have continued some time, had not Amy pro- 
 posed that they should go out on the gallery. Hardly 
 had they been seated outside, than Mrs. Warren sug- 
 gested a difficulty which Mary had not foreseen ; she 
 said : 
 
 "My daughter, I would be willing to give you up 
 if I thought you could reach, in safety, some place 
 
DEVISING WAYS AND MEANS. 229 
 
 where there are hospitals, but this to me is doubtful. 
 However, the greatest difficulty in the way is the waut 
 of means, I know very little about the investments 
 of ^our father, even if they were available, and I do 
 not think I have more than one hundred dollars in 
 money, and this is much too small a sum for you to 
 undertake your journey on." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman drew nearer to Mary and said, *'My 
 dear child, I appreciate yoiu* motives very much, and 
 under the circumstances, if assured of your safety, I 
 would be willing to let you go. Unfortunately at this 
 time I am very short of money. I cannot realize 
 now on the cotton which is being gathered, and Mr. 
 Grilles, my Gralveston agent, did not sell my last year's 
 crop, for motives that to him seemed prudent. I can 
 get you, if you persist in going, a few hundred dollars ; 
 you should have, however, fully one thousand." 
 
 While they were talking darkness came on, and 
 unperceived a black woman came up the road and 
 stood beside Mary on the gallery. She might have 
 stood for wme ^ime unnoticed had not her sobs at- 
 tracted Jfary's attention, and she turned to take 
 Susey's black hand, and to receive on her own the 
 tears and kisses of the faithful servant. 
 
 * ' Oh, Miss Mary ! " she began, "I 'se mighty glad 
 to see yell. 'Pears like an age since yeh luffed de 
 house, an' all 's berry lonely now, Miss Mary." Susey 
 kissed the hand of her young mistress again, and then 
 went over to Mrs. Warren and said : ' ' Miss Ellen, 
 how 's yeh? Strong, I hope, an' a trustin' in de 
 Lor'." 
 
 Mrs. Warren assured her that she was feeling better, 
 and that she looked to God for comfort. 
 
 20 
 
230 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "How are the people getting on, Susey, under Mr. 
 Townsend?" asked Mary. 
 
 "Dey's doin' well 's kin be 'spected, Miss. Mauss 
 Townsend tole Dolp yesterday that Mr. Gasting had 
 bought his old place, an' that he was agoin' to sell all 
 de bans what did n't do well." 
 
 " I hope, under those circumstances," said Mary, 
 "that the people will be careful, for I have no doubt 
 Mr. Townsend means what he said." 
 
 *' Yeh ain't heerd nothin* from Mauss Robut an' de 
 pickanins, hes yeh?" asked Susey. 
 
 "Nothing," said Mary, "but I feel confident Rob- 
 ert will come back before very long, and we will 
 return to the old home," said Mary. 
 
 "But, Miss Mary, Archy '11 be back too, won't 
 he?" asked Susey in a supplicating tone. 
 
 "Oh, yes, Susey, Archy will of course return with 
 his master." 
 
 "Then," said Susey, "my heart '11 larf wid joy, an' 
 de pickaninnies will meet him at de doah," 
 
 Mary then took Susey to the end of the gallery and 
 told her of her intention to leave, and seek out Rob- 
 ert, at the same time explaining the great difficulty 
 arising from the want of money. 
 
 " Miss Mary," said Susey, "Yeh knows I love yeh 
 like my own soul.'* 
 
 "I know that, Susey," said Mary, laying her hand 
 on the black arm of her late servant. 
 
 "Well, Miss Mary," continued Susey, "I did *nt 
 know yeh was agoin' to leave, but I know 'd yeh 
 must n't have much money. Jes' afore Archy left, 
 ole mauss gave him a lot of money, an' Archy says 
 to me, 'Susey, dar's more 'n I want; take de half, 
 yeb may want it, poor chile.' So I took it, an' I 'se 
 
TUE STOCKING OF GOLD. 231 
 
 alius carried it here in my breast, Miss Mary, more 
 far Archy like. An' when I come'd over to-day, I 
 was agoin' to give it to yeh. No'.v, Miss Mary, I 
 wants yeh to take it. Do n't say nothin', it 's all fur 
 you," and Susey took the two hundred dollars in 
 gold from her breast and forced it into her young mis- 
 tress's hand. 
 
 "Why, Susey, I cannot take your money. Keep 
 it ; no doubt if Mr. Townsend remains your master 
 you Avill need it before long," said Mary, handing 
 back the cotton stocking in which Susey had rolled 
 the money. 
 
 " No, please, Miss Mary. Oh, do take it and use it. 
 Yeh can get it all back fur me when Mauss Robut 
 an' Archy comes back. Heah, Miss, do please take 
 it from Aunt Susey," and the black woman forced 
 back the money with an earnest pressure into the 
 hand of her young mistress, adding, "May de good 
 Lor' bless yeh. Miss Mary, and may we be happy 
 agin in de ole home." So saying, Susey again 
 kissed the white hand, and bidding the others good- 
 bye, hurriedly left the gallery and walked out the 
 straight road across the prairie. 
 
 During this time Texas was free from the dangers 
 and excitements incident to the States east of the 
 Mississippi. At times there were rumors of the Yan- 
 kee fleets attacking Galveston, or landing large 
 armies on some other point of the coast. While 
 thefe were thousands of Union men in the State, not 
 one dared, after the secession, to speak his sentiments 
 Hamilton, Anderson, and other leaders had fled. Hun- 
 dreds had been hung or died in prison, and thus forced 
 by public opinion into the Confederate armies. The 
 business of the State was not suspended, for a large 
 
232 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 trade v/as carried on with Mexico, and geld was 
 always in circulation in the State. Long trains laden 
 with cotton were daily sent to Brownsville on the 
 Rio Grande, and returned, laden with foreign supplies 
 to Houston. iV remarkable feature in this business was 
 that, while many of the goods were intended for 
 Louisiana and States even across the Mississippi, where 
 salt, leather, and medicine were needed, still the 
 greater part of the supplies imported into Texas — and 
 the same is true of every southern State — were the 
 luxuries, like wines, silks, perfumes, and the latest 
 fashionable apparel for ladies. The Confederate 
 States government knew this tendency of the people, 
 and enacted laws controlling imports. 
 
 A week rolled by after Mary had announced her 
 intention to leave Texas, and nearly every hour in 
 the day the subject which engrossed her constant 
 thoughts was reverted to. Mrs. Boardman became 
 convinced at last that it would be better to let Mary 
 go, and to this Mrs. Warren and Amy finally assented, 
 and plans were considered foriier journey. 
 
 At that time a journey to Tennessee or Kentucky 
 would have been no ordinary undertaking for even a 
 strong man, and it was much more difficult for a young 
 girl who had never learned even to help herself. One 
 thousand miles to where the Union armies were— a 
 long journey even with every facility. But the block- 
 ade had stopped the steamers from Galveston to New 
 Orleans, and there was no continued railroad commu- 
 nication wi4h any of the Mississippi towns. Lideed 
 there was no line of stages running to the river, and 
 a traveler would be compelled to hire private convey- 
 ances the greater part of the distance. But there 
 was a will and a way. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO TENNESSEE. 
 
 Mary had fully determined to carry out her plans, 
 and her friends ceased to offer opposition. Prepara- 
 tions were made for the journey, and the four ladies 
 for days consulted the large map of the United States 
 hanging in the library. Never did generals in a 
 council of war more carefully consider the advantages 
 and disadvantages of every suggested plan. After 
 much study it was decided that the best course lay 
 through the range of the Sabine River, thence through 
 Louisiana to the Mississippi, and up the Mississippi 
 to Yicksbiu-g or Memphis. One trunk was considered 
 enough, and i; was agreed that she should take, for 
 appearance sake and assistance, one of Mrs. Board- 
 man's servants, a stout boy named Tom, about four- 
 teen years of age. Amy insisted on accompanying 
 her friend to Orange, which was the terminus of the 
 railroad running east from Houston. 
 
 It was difficult for both Mrs. WaiTcn and Mary to 
 part. They had never been separated, and yet the 
 blow was not so hard as if it had been the first, for 
 gradually the heart becomes acquainted with sorrow. 
 It was eight miles to Columbia, on the Brazos, where 
 they were to take the cars for Houston, and the car- 
 riage was waiting and the farewells uttered with sobs, 
 20* 
 
234 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 when Susey appeared, out of breath, to bid her young 
 mistress good-bye. 
 
 " Oh, Miss Mary, if I could only go 'long to keer fur 
 an' watch yth, an' to see Archy an' Mauss Kobut." 
 
 "Don't fret, Susey," said Mary, the tears flowing 
 down her own cheeks. " I will come back before lone: 
 with Robert and Archy, and we will all live happily in 
 the old home." 
 
 " Oh, I prays de Lor' fur dat. Come soon, or I can't 
 lib. Yesterday, Mauss Townsend whipped me kase I 
 spoke 'bout de ole mauss, an' I 'se so sore I can't stan' 
 skeerce." Then changing her tone, she said: "But 
 whin yeh sees Archy, don't tell him, miss. Jes' say 
 Susey 's well, an' de pickaninnies is awaitin'. An', 
 Miss Mary, if 't ain't no trubbel, jes' gib Arcliy dese 
 socks, an' say I knit 'em at night whin de chillen wuz 
 a-sleepin'." 
 
 Mary promised to take the socks to Archy. Fare- 
 wells were given again, and the carriage rolled over 
 the prairie, and Mrs. Warren, on the gallery, gave full 
 vent to her suppressed grief. 
 
 So busy were the girls with their owtj thoughts that 
 but little was said as the carnage dashed along to 
 Columbia. A few miles below the tov/n they struck 
 the muddy, winding Brazos, with its sleepy waters and 
 steep clay banks, covered with a dense and tropical 
 vegetation. 
 
 Reaching Columbia, a straggling village of some 
 six hundred inhabitants, they learned from Mr. Cole, 
 a kind-hearted merchant, that it would be necessary 
 to have passes, and these he promised to secure from 
 the provost marshal, a man named Church. 
 
 The people who fought in the South v;ere southern 
 
DOUGHFACES— EN ROUTE. 235 
 
 men by birth, or espoused the cause from principle. 
 The majority of the military non-combatants were 
 northern men, and they were quartermasters, purvey- 
 ors, or provost marshals in nine cases out of ten. It 
 was a safe way of showing their love for the Confed- 
 eracy. Mr. Church was no exception to the rule ; he 
 was a Yankee by birth and a southern man from sel- 
 fish motives. He would have been a cannibal, with 
 his relatives for victims, had it paid. 
 
 After much trouble the conscientious marshal was 
 induced to give the two young ladies passes to Orange 
 and back, to expire in four days, and he charged them 
 for his generosity the moderate sum of ten dollars. 
 By 11 o'clock in the morning they dismissed the car- 
 riage, crossed the ferry to the railroad station, secured 
 tickets for themselves and Tom, and took seats in the 
 very shabby and dilapidated car which was supposed 
 to be "reserved for ladies," but into vvdiich, as a con- 
 sequence, all the men without ladies crowded. 
 
 The railroad to Houston was never a good one, 
 owing to the scarcity of stone or gTavel in that region 
 for ballast. Since the v/ar it was particularly bad, 
 and the greatest speed the cars dared make on it in 
 dry weather was eight miles an hour. Frequently the 
 train was detained while the black brakesmen cut 
 wood for the locomotive, or carried up water in buck- 
 ets from some muddy bayou to the tender. It was very 
 tiresome going the sixty-three miles to Houston, and 
 Mary ventured to ask an old gentleman who sat behind 
 her at v/hat time he thought they would reach Hou;^ton. 
 The old gentleman spit out of the window to clear 
 his mouth, and wiping his grey beard with his coat 
 sleeve, said : 
 
tS6 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 '* V.,*' . miss, that depcn's on circumstances. They 
 have a uotv set of han's on this train, an' they are 
 doin' right well, I think, but the ole han's used to 
 stop to chisc wild turkeys along the road, so it made 
 the trip rijiit smart weary. One time the engineer 
 au' fireman went off with the brakesman and con- 
 ductor aftc- deer, an' all han's got down to Oyster 
 Creek an' got drunk." 
 
 "But what did the passengers do?" asked Amy in 
 some alarm. 
 
 " Oh, mistJ, they knowed it was a joke, though they 
 cussed righi smart. Howdsomdever, we went back 
 to ole Stephens, an' got a mule team an' hauled one 
 of the cars down agin to Columbia. We had a gay 
 time that night, miss," and the ole man laughed at 
 the memory of the festive occasion. 
 
 "Do you imagine, sir, that anything will happen 
 to prevent our getting in before dark?" asked Mary 
 nervously. 
 
 "I do li'lknow miss, I hope not," said the old man. 
 But I see> tear's a stiff breeze a blowin' frum the east ; 
 if it goei aioun' south why we '11 jest fly to Houston ; 
 if it goes north or northeast, it '11 be slap agin us, an* 
 we '11 have to come to anchor. "Why bless you, I 've 
 often stopped all night on these here prairies with a 
 head wind. Once we wuz two hull days out without 
 anything to eat an' nothin' to drink but water. We 
 all got so hungry we'd have eaten a raw baby. Since 
 then, miss, I alius cames three days' pervisions." 
 
 "But the train used to go much faster, I am sure, 
 for I have been over the road frequently," said Mary. 
 
 "Yes, yer right miss, but I reckon as how that v.as 
 afore the war ; now the track is all willow-wallerey 
 
ANDREW JOHNSON'S BROTHER. 237 
 
 like, an' no one seems to keer fur fixin' it. Now jist 
 lissen to that ole engine," said the grey-headed man, 
 putting his head out of the window. " Do ye hear 
 her a wheezin' ? Wall, if she don't bust in a week I '11 
 eat her," and the old man drew his coat sleeve across 
 his mouth as if to prepare for the feast, and then 
 added, " Howdsomdever, we kin git along better with- 
 out any engines." 
 
 Mary looked doubtingly at the old man, who, deem- 
 ing an explanation necessary, said, "Wall, ye see I'd 
 have sails on the cars an' go up at night, whin the 
 wind comes frum the Gulf, an' then come back in 
 the mornin' whin the wind 's off land." 
 
 The young ladies could not help smiling at this 
 novel idea, and for some time the conversation 
 dropped. After an hour's dull riding, and while the 
 train was stopped for wood, the old man walked to 
 the end of the car, looked out, and came back. He 
 was about sixty years of age, rather stout, and of 
 medium height. His dress was coarse, his boots 
 heavy and dirty, and his hands large and tanned. He 
 looked like one of the lower order of southern whites, 
 but under his coarse appearance there was an expres- 
 sion of kindness, and an easy, good-natured sort of 
 indecision. Mary thought as he came back that she 
 recognized hira as *• Cooper Johnson," a poor man 
 with a very large family of ignorant daughters living 
 in Columbia, and the same person whom Robert had 
 saved at one time when the Brazos was flooded. He 
 worked in the sugar plantations along the river, and 
 was looked upon as a good-natured, lazy sort of a 
 man, who never gave a thought to the morrow. He 
 was a Tennesseean, or claimed to be, but he was o' 
 
238 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 so little importance that nobody seemed to care for 
 his antecedents. Since the war, however, he had 
 become an object of some note. He was a strong 
 southern man in his feelings, as he would have beci. 
 anything else to oblige his neighbors, and he v/as 
 never so happy as when in a bar-room he would say : 
 
 " Now, gentlemen, it ain't my fault ; my family should 
 not be disgraced kase my brother is a Yankee. We 
 never did hitch well, fur Andy wuz alius an onery 
 cuss, an' I 'm not sui'prised he 's a traitor to his coun- 
 try.'' 
 
 Cooper Johnson wns a brother of no less a person 
 than Andrew Johnson, then a United States Senator 
 and the military governor of Tennessee. 
 
 It w^as nearly dark when the train reached Houston, 
 and though both the young ladies had visiting ac- 
 quaintances there, they preferred, imdcr the circum- 
 stances, to go to the Verandah Hotel, where they 
 obtained a pleasant room for the night. On the fol- 
 lowing morning they took the train for Orange, which 
 place they reached in the evening. All the hotels 
 were crowded, and the young ladies searched in vain 
 for a place to stop all night. Their inquiries attracted 
 the attention of a young artillery officer, who gen- 
 erously offered them his room, and learning that one 
 of the young ladies was going on to Haines's Bluff he 
 promised to get her a ticket in the morning, and have 
 her trunk taken to the steamboat going north. There 
 was no alternative but to accept this kind offer, and 
 on learning their intention the young officer had the 
 room prepared and the baggage of the young ladies 
 taken to it. 
 
 The two anxious hearts were wonderfully disguised 
 
THE TRANSFER OF TOM. 239 
 
 as they beat side by side in the little bed-room that 
 night. There was an attempt to laugh at their situa- 
 tion, though both felt like crying, and as Mary thought 
 of the long journey and the indefinite course before 
 her, she secretly wished herself back at Gronzelletta. 
 They slept but little during the night, for there were 
 a hundred things to talk about, and air-castles to build 
 for their future abode. Next morning they were up 
 before the sun, and everything was in readiness. 
 They had an early breakfast, of which neither could 
 eat, and then they sat down to await the arrival of 
 the young officer, who promised to see Mary to the 
 steamer and afterwards escort Amy to the train, for, 
 seeing his gentlemanly bearing, the girls trusted him 
 with this part of their secret. 
 
 *'I have been thinking, dear Amy," said Mary, as 
 they sat with their hands embraced, " that you ought 
 to take Tom back with you. I am sure I shall be 
 able to get along, and I do not like the idea of your 
 going home alone." 
 
 "You dear, unselfish old thing," said Amy, kissing 
 her, "why I will be safely at home to-morrow night, 
 and there are ever so many hundred miles before you. 
 Tom used to be my body-guard, and he is a very 
 strong boy with a good heart, and so very funny 
 sometimes. By the way, he was a birthday present 
 to me, and I will now transfer him to you, to be yours 
 forever. You know, you old darling," she continued, 
 toying with Mary's black hair, **that in addition to 
 Tom's being able to manage your trunk, you will have 
 mor© attention shown you if you travel v/ith a ser- 
 vant." 
 
 So the disposition of Tom was settled. Then Amy 
 
240 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 walked to the window, and opening a silk purse sKe 
 poured the contents into her lap and began to count. 
 She had ninety-tliree dollars. Twelve would take her 
 home, but in case of accident she would take sixteen. 
 She then put seventy-five dollars back into the purse, 
 and walking to the bed, where Mary was sitting, she 
 put her arms around her, and said : 
 
 "Now, old pet, I have a request to make, and if 
 you do not grant it, I will not kiss you for ever so 
 long," and Amy finished her sentence with a kiss. 
 
 *' Yes, yes, dear Amy, I will grant you any request 
 in the world," said Mary, returning the warm-hearted 
 girl's caress. 
 
 " Then take this," handing her the purse, "and use 
 it for me on the road. Now, not a word. Mother 
 always gives me more money than I need, and, like a 
 little miser, I had this put away. Tell Robert he 
 must pay me when he comes back, or give me a — a — 
 what do you call those things, you know, where you 
 promise to pay money — Mrs. Gasting used to teach 
 us about them ? " 
 
 Mary suggested, laughingly, "a note." 
 
 *' Oh, yes, a note — and now you are a darling and 
 just the sweetest, prettiest sister I ever want to have." 
 
 Mary held the purse in her hand, with her head cast 
 down and her parted lips trembling. Two gi'eat tears 
 swelled on her long lashes, and then she turned and 
 threw her arms around Amy. The embrace was 
 returned, and though for awhile each tried to restrain 
 her tears, the emotions were stronger than the wills, 
 and they wept in each other's arms. Before they 
 could dry their tears a servant came up with Captain 
 Brown's card, on which he had penciled his *' com* 
 
A LONG FAREWELL. 241 
 
 pliments, and the boat will start in fifteen minutes." 
 They put on their things hurriedly, directed the ser- 
 vant to have the trunk sent to the boat, a duty 
 the captain had attended to. Then they descended 
 and found the captain waiting, and learning there was 
 plenty of time to walk to the boat, the three started 
 toward the river. The captain, on reaching the 
 steamer, had Mary's trunk checked and secured her 
 ticket, promising to see Amy off on the train which 
 left in half an hour for Houston. Then the paddles 
 of the steamboat played around, and she strained the 
 great ropes that held her to the pier. The escaping 
 steam sounded like a cry of impatience. The bell 
 tolled ten minutes before starting. Then came the 
 farewell, and Mary was left on deck with the wonder- 
 ing black boy. The ropes were loosed, there was a 
 loud hoarse whistle, and the steamer backed out and 
 headed up the stream. Amy stood on the pier with 
 the captain, waving Grod-speeds to her friend, and 
 Mary from the deck answered, till, like a dream, the 
 steamer was lost up the river. Then Amy, with her 
 noble escort, turned to retrace her steps to Gon- 
 zelletta. 
 
 Up the Sabine, with its sluggish, turbid waters, the 
 steamer glided. There was no interest in its low 
 banks covered with cotton wood trees, and no history 
 or tradition gave character to its many bends and 
 bayous. There is a saying, however, among Texans, 
 that "those who enter the State by the Sabine, and 
 drink of its waters, will never leave Texas, and once 
 at least in their lives they will be guilty of horse- 
 stealing." There were no doubt gi'ounds for this 
 belief in the early history of the State, and it was a 
 21 
 
242 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 good thought to cast the blame on the waters. For 
 a long time Mary sat musing and watching the vraves 
 from the advancing steamer as they rushed against 
 the muddy shores. The future, the past, and the 
 present blended like a kaleidoscope in her mind, and, 
 turn it as she would, no combination brought comfort 
 to her heart. At length she bethought herself of 
 Tom, and seeking out that worthy, she found him 
 leaning over the side of the steamer, with the end of 
 a huge piece of string in his hand, the end that hung 
 in the water being adorned with a crooked pin, to 
 which was attached a piece of red flannel. In answer 
 to Mary's 
 
 " What are you doing here, Tom ?" he replied : 
 
 "Why, Miss Mary, I'se a fishin' fur muds, an', if 
 I 'm right smart, I reckon I '11 have a big pile fur 
 mammy by the time she gets home." 
 
 She brought him back to her former place, and 
 said, as she made him sit down beside her : 
 
 *' Tom, don't you know it will be a very long time 
 before you see your mammy again ?" 
 
 " Hi, Miss Mary, dat 's good !" said Tom, with 
 evident delight, "I doesn't git wollopings den frum 
 mammy. You won't wallop me much, will yeh, 
 
 miss 
 
 ?'» 
 
 Mary could not repress a smile as she said : 
 " I hope you will be a good, faithful boy, and 
 need no punishment, Tom." 
 
 " Oh, Lor', Miss Mary, I '11 be ever so good, an' I '11 
 tote dat 'ar chist all day," and Tom started in the 
 direction of the trunk, as if to put his boast into 
 practice, but Mary kindly restrained him, and he 
 went back to fish. 
 
N^W FRIENDS. 143 
 
 As the steamer nearecl Haines's Bluff, about noon, 
 au elderly gentleman, accompanied by a beautiful 
 girl about Mary's age, and apparently bis daughter, 
 walked past where she sat several times. Stopping at 
 length before her, the gentleman spoke in a general 
 way about the weather, the scenery, the difficulties 
 of travel, and the war. Mary was delighted to find 
 a kind, fatherly person to talk to, and after a few 
 minutes the gentleman sat down, and, with a tone of 
 kindly interest, asked : 
 
 " Are you going further than the Bluff, miss? You 
 will pardon the inquiry, but I see you are unattended, 
 excepting your inexperienced servant, " turning to- 
 ward Tom and smiling. " Should you be going 
 further, I should be happy to aid you." Then turn- 
 ing to the young lady by his side he said, looking at 
 Mary, " This is my daughter — Miss Louisa Henry, 
 Miss " 
 
 " Warren," said Mary. 
 
 After the introduction Mary thanked Mr. Henry, 
 and told him she desired to go to Vicksburg. 
 
 " That is a long journey for a lady to make alone 
 in such times." 
 
 "Yes, sir; but with me it is imperative. I am 
 going on to see a soldier brother of mine, from whom 
 we have not heard since the war." 
 
 " I am very glad to have met you, for, as I live on 
 Berwick's Bay, from which point steamers go up the 
 Atchafalaya to Vicksburg, I hope to be of some ser- 
 vice in getting you North comfortably." 
 
 Mary expressed her thanks to Mr. Henry, and in- 
 wardly breathed a prayer to God, who had raised up 
 a friend. 
 
244 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The steamer had now reached Ilaines's Bluff, a 
 miserable cluster of log houses perched on the muddy 
 bank constituting the town, which rose into import- 
 ance during the war as the terminus of a stage line 
 running east to New Iberia. There were no accom- 
 modations for the great swarm of travelers going in 
 both directions, but, as the weather was fine, hundreds 
 bivouacked under the great trees, or made temporary 
 shelters from the branches. Here was a large camp of 
 Texas recniits preparing to go beyond the Mississippi, 
 and a long train of wagons waiting to take supplies 
 east. All was noise, swagger, and confusion. Mr. 
 Henry found that the limited stage accommodation 
 had been secured weeks ahead, and, as he had no 
 desire to wait his turn, he set about purchasing or 
 hiring a private conveyance. He was unsuccessful 
 in his first attenipt. He succeeded, however, in get- 
 ting a room in one of the log houses for the young 
 ladies, and in procm-ing something to eat. It" was 
 simply impossible for those unaccustomed to every 
 variety of noise to sleep at Haines's Bluff that night. 
 Hundreds of men, under the influence of liquor, or 
 imbued with the bravado peculiar to uneducated men 
 under excitement, made night hideous with their wild 
 yells and drunken orgies, while the mules seemed 
 possessed for the time with the general spirit of reck- 
 lessness and dissipation, if one might judge from the 
 war of kicks and the din of unmusical brays that 
 added to the uproar and confusion. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 .HE JOUKNEY CONTINUED. 
 
 About noon the next day, Mr. Henry succeeded in 
 purchasing a very dilapidated conveyance, from a 
 party who had just come west from Vermillion. 
 Rough and unreliable as the so-called " light wagon " 
 was, it was far supeiior to the tall, bony, old horse, 
 and brown, ragged harness. The whole, however, 
 was considered a bargain for five hundred dollars, 
 and Mr. Henry would have given more in order to 
 leave Haines's Bluff. 
 
 Mary wished Mr. Henry to use her purse in pay- 
 ing for this purchase, but hi laughingly told her he 
 would present his account vfhen they had reached 
 the end of their journey. 
 
 As the harness and wagon needed repairing, Mr. 
 Henry did not leave the bluff till next morning. 
 
 Shortly after daylight they were driving through 
 the pine forest that extends for thirty miles 
 in the direction of Lake Charles. Mr. Henry was 
 seated in front on Mary's trunk, the two girls occu- 
 pied the single seat, and Tom sat wuth his feet hang- 
 ing over the tail-board, clinging on to the sides with 
 both hands. The pine roots made the road very 
 rough, and as one spring was w^eaker than the other, 
 the wagon leaned to the left with a very rakish look. 
 The horse was very steady, the fire of his youth had 
 21* 
 
24G "WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 evidently departed, and all his pleasure seemed to 
 be retrospective. He was a wise horse, for he could 
 tell in an instant when any part of the harness broke, 
 and would stop immediately ; and this he did, on an 
 average, four times an hour, and invariably with 
 cause. Mr. Henry anticipated trouble in the harness 
 and provided himself with an abundance of buckskin, 
 so that its many mendings made it a marvel of inge- 
 nuity, and doubtful as to its original material. 
 
 About sunset they reached "Mrs. Williams's Hotel," 
 at Manchester, a town which bore but little resem- 
 blance to its British namesake, for it boasted but four 
 buildings, one the hotel, the other an out-kitchen, 
 near which v/ere the stable and blacksmith-shop. All 
 the houses were one-storied, and built of rough pine 
 logs. 
 
 The young ladies were very much fatigued, and 
 Mrs. Williams's Hotel offered no promise of ease or 
 luxury. It was erected for the accommodation of 
 the stages, on the principle of giving the smallest 
 amount of comfort for the gi'eatest compensation. 
 INIrs. Williams was a stout, fleshy woman, very com- 
 manding in her manner, and evidently accustomed to 
 having her own way. She met Mr. Henry at the door 
 of her log caravansary, and informed him that all the 
 beds v/ere taken for the night, but she could make it 
 comfortable for the young ladies on the gallery, by 
 fencing off a portion with a bed-quilt. 
 
 It was the best Mrs. Williams could do in the sleep- 
 ing line, but she promised to make up by preparing 
 an extraordinary supper. If our party had not been 
 hungry after their long, rough journey, the sight of 
 Mrs. Williams's supper table would have disgusted 
 
SLEEPIXG "HALF OUT OF DOORS." 247 
 
 thcni. for, though everything was reasonably clean, 
 the gi-eat piles of fried yams, and islands of bacon 
 floating in little seas of liquid fat, v.'ith thick corn- 
 dodgers and very strong butter, could only be invit- 
 ing to those who preferred quantity to quality. 
 
 It was quite novel for the young ladies to sleep 
 *' half out doors," as Tom called the gallery, but the 
 beds were luxurious to the weary heads, and Mr. 
 Henry having arranged the cots with a blanket cur- 
 tain separating the gallery apartments, he got a blan- 
 ket for Tom, and early in the evening the whole party 
 was asleep. 
 
 Mr. Henry slept less soundly than the young ladies, 
 for he rose frequently during the night, and pushing 
 back the screen looked at the sleeping girls. Once 
 he was aroused by hearing Mary's voice as if in con- 
 versation, with no person replying. He could not 
 help listening, as the poor girl, dreaming that her 
 journey was over, and that she was with Robert again, 
 iold all her woes and hopes. At times Mary's voice 
 sank to a murmur, and low sobs, as if from her aching 
 heart, choked her utterance. Heretofore Mr. Henry 
 had carefully avoided drawing Mary into a recital of 
 the details that led to her journey, but as he heard 
 the sad tale from the lips of the unconscious girl the 
 tears rose to his eyes, and he stole to the head of the 
 cot where the girls were sleeping, and brushing aside 
 the screen again, he bowed and touched his lips to the 
 brow of each. 
 
 Early next morning the tall horse, equipped in the 
 ragged harness, was hitched to the frail, light wagon, 
 and the journey was resumed. In the afternoon they 
 emerged from the pine woods, the road leading into 
 
248 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the open prairie country which stretched before them 
 for two hundred and fifty miles to the banks of the 
 Bayou Teche. The prairies were brown and dry, but 
 they looked like the grand sweeps about G-onzelletta, 
 and Mary felt happier at the sight, while Tom, snuff- 
 ing the bracing air that came up from the gulf, rat- 
 tled off cotton-field melodies, which, without rhyme 
 or reason, were still very pleasant to hear at that 
 time. 
 
 At Lake Charles they entered the region settled by 
 the lower class of Louisiana French, known in that 
 section as " Cajians," and in Texas as "French 
 greasers," in contradistinction to the Mexican greaser. 
 This section of the United States and its people are 
 but little known, though the latter are the most pecu- 
 liar on the continent. They are as ignorant as the 
 Indians that once inhabited this section, while they 
 do not possess the fierce energy and courage of the 
 savage. Not one in a hundred knows anything of 
 the English language, and their French patois is in- 
 comprehensible to any but those reared in that sec- 
 tion. They profess the Catholic religion, and some 
 of the settlements are blest with a priest, but books 
 and schools are unknown among them. As a rule 
 they are very poor, depending altogether on their 
 cattle for support, and rarely cultivating the fine lands 
 on which they are located. During the war they were 
 the most impartial conservatives, for as they did not 
 understand the cause, and would not be interested if 
 they did, they went on branding their cattle, uncaring 
 which side won. The Confederates made an effort 
 to enforce the conscription in this section, but the 
 men so procured, had to be held in the trenches and 
 
THE CAJIANS— PRAIRIE FIRES. 249 
 
 rauks by the bayonets of Dick Taylor's Texans, and so 
 worthless were they, that Taylor felt relieved when 
 the last of the Cajians had deserted. Physically 
 they are miserable specimens of humanity. Small, 
 lean, sallow, and cadaverous, they look like the imps 
 of the ague demon. At twenty the women are tooth- 
 less and shriveled. The homeliness of the females 
 in the calcasien region should make it the home of 
 at least one of the virtues, but unfortunately for the 
 Cajians, virtue never even visits their people in any 
 form. Rude people are usually hospitable, but so 
 jealous are the Cajians of strangers that they do 
 everything to make their stay disagreeable, and they 
 have not hesitated to murder Americans who tried to 
 settle among them. 
 
 At Lake Charles they found accommodations supe- 
 rior to those at Mrs. Williams's Hotel, and the follow- 
 ing morning Mr. Henry had the wagon spring and the 
 harness repaired, the blacksmith who did the whole 
 job saying the best way to fix the turn-out would be 
 to get a new one. From some passengers who came 
 in on the stage from New Iberia, Mr. Henry learned 
 that the prairies were on fire, and that it would be 
 difficult to follow the road at some points. They 
 advised him to remain at the lake for a few days till 
 the fire had run its course, but he was anxious to push 
 on, and consequently left after the blacksmith had 
 finished his job. A few miles east of Lake Charles 
 a heavy wind began to blow across the prairies, and 
 here and there along the horizon columns of white 
 sm,oke, ever changing, marked the line of the prairie 
 fires. While Mr. Henry felt no alarm from the fires, 
 he still desired to stop early in the afternoon at the 
 
250 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 house of a Cajian close to the road, and resume hia 
 journey across the burnmg country with ample day- 
 light before him. He was met at the door of the 
 house by a withered old hag, to whom he made known 
 his wish in her own dialect. She promptly refused him, 
 and then Mr. Henry told her he would pay any sum 
 which in reason she might ask, but this was unavail- 
 ing. The old woman told him he was a conscripting 
 officer, and making known her suspicions to her two 
 blear-eyed sons, who came out attracted by the con- 
 versation, Mr. Henry was forced to beat a hasty re- 
 treat to the wagon. There he tried to open negotia- 
 tions again for the purchase of some food, and corn 
 for the horse, but the blear-eyed young men menac- 
 ingly directed him to the next house, six miles further 
 on. 
 
 Mr. Henry determined to push on to the next house, 
 but he traveled till dark, and still there was no house 
 in sight. It was evident the blear-eyed young men 
 had lied. 
 
 After dark the wind increased, and the smell of 
 the burning prairies was at times suffocating. The 
 tall horse could not be induced to go faster than a 
 walk at any time ; but even this dignified gait be- 
 came gradually slower, and the tall horse showed at 
 times a tendency to stop and contemplate. Shortly 
 after dark they crossed, or attempted to cross, a miry 
 little stream, peculiar to prairie countries. The front 
 wheels got through very well, and the hind ones v;ere 
 very promising. The pull was hard up the opposite 
 bank, and involuntarily all leaned forward, as if to 
 help the tall horse with his load. Suddenly sonic- 
 thing broke, and the hind wheels slipped back, while 
 
IN BIVOUAC. 251 
 
 the tall horse joyously walked off with the fore ones, 
 and Mr. Henry and the two girls were thrown forward 
 to the soft gi'ound. Tom clung to the box, till Mr. 
 Henry called him to catch the tall horse, who had 
 accelerated his movements and was going on with 
 the shafts and fore wheels. Fortunately no one was 
 hurt ; and while Mr. Henry felt annoyed at the acci- 
 dent, he affected to treat it as a joke, and laughingly 
 told the girls they must sleep on the prairie, Tom 
 returned with the tall horse, and after imharnessing 
 him Mr. Henry started a fire, and spreading some 
 blankets on the gi-ound, told the girls to wait till he 
 unloaded the wagon and got out the eatables he had 
 stored away for just such an occasion. But neither 
 of the young ladies would hear of his working alone. 
 They helped him to unpack the wagon, and, after 
 taking off the box, they gave a hearty pull at the 
 rope, which extricated the fated hind wheels. With 
 the v^heels, box, and a blanket, Mr. Henry rigged up 
 a very respectable " wigwam," as he called it, which 
 Tom filled with dry grass from the banks of the 
 stream. After staking the horse, they partook of 
 the cold chicken, biscuit, and mustang wine which 
 Mr. Henry's foresight had provided, and all agi'eed 
 that they were much more comfortable than if they 
 had staid at the house of the blear-eyed young men. 
 Every one but Tom thought of the difficulty that 
 lay before them on the morrow, but the subject, as if 
 by mutual consent, was avoided. As they sat in 
 their extemporized tent before the fire, Mr. Henry 
 gently broached to Mary the question of secession ; 
 and laying his hand in a fatherly manner on hers, he 
 told her her own story and how he became acquainted 
 
252 WARREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 with it. lie assured her that iii this, as in everything 
 else, she had all his sympathies, for he was heart and 
 soul a Union man. The girls emhraced at this dis- 
 covery of a new tie between them, and Mary did 
 what her heart prompted, «he told the story of out- 
 rage and A\Tong which her family had endured, till 
 Louisa wept and threw her arms around her friend, 
 and Mr. Henry rose excitedly and indulged in a string 
 of interjections, some of which were not, to say the 
 least. Biblical. Sitting down, he said : 
 
 " 3Iy dear child, you have made my heart very sore. 
 Truly, you have suffered much, and I pray that your 
 reward may be correspondingly great. I have a large 
 plantation and two hundred hands on the Teche, 
 but if the whole is necessary to save the Union, I 
 say take them. I should not be surprised if the war 
 would end in the emancipation of all the slaves South. 
 In that event I will go out to Texas and establish a 
 ranche, and who knows, my little soldier-girl, but we 
 may be neighbors some day." 
 
 " Oh, I pray vv'e may, Mr. Henry," said Mary, earn- 
 estly, while Louisa echoed the wish. About 10 
 o'clock all were sleeping as calmly as if in their o\vn 
 homes, uncaring for the hoarse wind that w^as hurry- 
 iiig the terrible fire toward them. Mr. Henry seemed 
 to sleep by snatches, for he woke every few hours and 
 looked around to see what progress the fke was 
 making. About an hour before day he was startled 
 by a roaring noise like the sound of a hundred cata- 
 racts. He hurriedly told the girls to dress — a by no 
 means difncult job — and as they came out from their 
 shelter, they saw for twenty miles great waves of fh^e 
 rolling toward them. The sky looked like a mighty 
 
THKOUGH THE FIERY BELT. 253 
 
 furnace, and the red clouds rolled one upon another, 
 as if to quench their burning sides. At fresh points 
 the fires would suddenly start up and then speed away 
 on their devouring course. Branches of burning grass 
 filled the air like a grand pyrotechnic display, and 
 as they fell in advance of the main fire they would 
 light up the dry grass, and plutonian chariots sped on 
 their fiery race before the whip of the wind. The 
 party suffered for a while from the stifling smoke, 
 which soon passed over, and then came a dry, suffoca- 
 ting heat, more oppressive than the smoke. The fire 
 would soon be upon them, and Mr. Henry felt more 
 alarmed than he dared to express. Below his camp- 
 ing place, about a hundred feet, the miry stream 
 widened into a broad marsh, where the grass was too 
 green to burn, and to the center of this they rapidly 
 carried all their effects, including the tall horse. 
 They were not too soon ; the fire surged around them 
 and the dry air grew hotter. Mr. Henry wet handker- 
 chiefs, and making all lie on their faces they breathed 
 through the wet cloths, which moistened and cooled 
 the air. A few minutes, and every particle of the dry 
 grass around them was consumed, and the fires had 
 swept on. All rose to congratulate one another on 
 their fortunate escape from the most fearful of deaths. 
 The fire had leaped the stream, and as they turned to 
 look at it, it had reached a cluster of pine trees about 
 four hundred yards beyond. But the fire stopped not. 
 It licked up the dry leaves and grass around the trees, 
 and then gathering at points, as if for a leap, the flames 
 shot up the resinous trunks and spread from limb to 
 limb and tree to tr6e. Like mighty torche.3 the trees 
 burned, while clouds of black smoke rolled up to the 
 
 22 
 
254 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 lurid sky. The winds rushed through the burning 
 grove, tlirowing out great streamers of flame that 
 straightened and flapped from the tops of the stately 
 pines like the banners of the Fire King. 
 
 They watched this sublime spectacle till gradually 
 the torches paled, the prairie fires became lines of 
 distant smoke, and the lurid clouds blackened, then 
 faded before the majesty of the rising sun. 
 
 About a half mile from where they broke down Mr. 
 Henry saw a ranche, to which he went, and was fortu- 
 nate enough to procure some com bread and dried 
 beef, in addition to a side of raw-hide to fix his wagon. 
 After they had eaten of the by no means inviting 
 fare, Mr. Henry cut the rawhide into long slips, which 
 he moistened and twisted into ropes as strong as iron. 
 With these he succeeded in tying the seceded parts 
 of the wagon firmly together, remarking to the girls, 
 who were watching admiringly : " The country will be 
 united like this after both sides are well cowhided." 
 
 The reader would not have been kept an instan 
 on these calcasien prairies if the writer imagined this 
 rapid sketch of the "Cajians" to be a matter of 
 general knowledge. "We will, therefore, pass over 
 the long trip of one week to the rich shores of the 
 Teche, and leave unrecorded the troubles of Mr. 
 Henry with the tall horse, the broken harness, and 
 patched-up wagon. 
 
 The Teche region is as level as the prairies and 
 heavily timbered. The soil is exceedingly fertile, 
 and the banks of the bayou are lined with the finest 
 sugar plantations in the South. But a few hours* 
 ride from the gulf, the temperature for that latitude 
 is delightful, particularly so in the evenings, which 
 
STERLING-ON-THE-TEUni:. 255 
 
 are always cool. The dwellings of the planters, 
 many of whom are French or of French descent, are 
 models of taste and comfort, erected by wealth in 
 the hands of cultivated men. And the negro quarters 
 would compare in appearance and comfort with the 
 dwellings of the majority of northern working-men. 
 Mr. Henry's plantation, with its surroundings, was 
 one of the finest on the river, and his house was the 
 ideal southern mansion, with its wide galleries, and 
 white pillars, and cool approaches of overhanging 
 live-oak. The welcome which Mary received at 
 " Sterling," as Mr. Henry called his place, could not 
 have been excelled in cordial warmth at Gonzelletta. 
 There was everything to induce her to remain at 
 Sterling for a week at least, but Mary was determined 
 to push on. She never for an instant lost sight of 
 the one great object that induced her to leave home. 
 In two days there was to be a steamer from Grand 
 Lake for Vicksburg ; and as it would save the trouble 
 of going to Baton Rouge or New Orleans, Mr. Henry 
 thought it better to reach the Mississippi by the Bayou 
 Atchafalaya, for there would be no change by that 
 route. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVI. 
 
 ON THE ATCHAFALAYA. 
 
 Mary parted from her friends, who accompanied 
 her to Grand Lake, with a feeling of sorrow, only 
 equaled by the parting at Gonzelletta. She promised 
 them to WTite from Yicksburg, and pledged herself to 
 renew the acquaintance on her return. 
 
 What a wonderful tangle of artificial canals the 
 bayous of southern Louisiana make ! Deep and cur- 
 rentless, with low banks, which often overflow and 
 convert the whole region into a lake, they connect with 
 the Mississippi and Red rivers in the most unexpected 
 places, and large steamers could, and do, go to the Gulf 
 of Mexico by sailing up the Eed River, a tributary of 
 the Mississippi, which empties into the gulf. One of 
 these outlets is the Bayou Atchafalaya, which con- 
 nects Red River with Grand Lake, while another bayou 
 connects Grand Lake with the salt waters of Berwick's 
 Bay. This lake, with its flowery shores and moss- 
 covered cypress trees, bears a striking resemblance to 
 Caddo Lake in the northern part of the State. 
 The steamer on which Mary obtained passage was 
 commodious, and the captain, a friend of Mr, Henry, 
 she found very kind and obliging. He promised Mr. 
 Henry that he would see Mary safely off for Memphis 
 when they reached Yicksburg, so she felt as if her 
 immediate troubles were past. And daily she sat on 
 
AT VICKSBURG. 257 
 
 deck watching the steamer passing up the sluggish 
 bayou, above which, at times, the stately cypress 
 trees, with their mossy plumes, bent in graceful 
 arches of green, the boughs frequently brushing the 
 deck of the steamer. It seemed wonderful to her 
 how the pilot knew his course, for the whole region 
 was a labyrinth of bayous, and one was so much like 
 the other that she could not imagine by what clue 
 they were sailing. Occasionally the steamer passed 
 a house built on piles, the tops of which showed the 
 high-water mark. These houses, with their bilious- 
 looking inmates, interested her very much, for they 
 reminded her amazingly of the huge sand-hill cranes 
 so common in Texas, and which make stupid efforts 
 to balance their large bodies on one long, thin leg, 
 in a tipsy sort of way, when they desire to be par- 
 ticularly comfortable. In answer to her question as 
 to how these people lived, the captain told her *' they 
 made cypress pews and sold them down the river." 
 
 The answer mystified her more than ever, but she 
 did not trouble the captain by asking what the virtue 
 of "cypress pews" was. Two days, and they reached 
 Simsport, near the Red River, where the steamer 
 remained for the night, and early next morning the 
 mighty Father of Waters was rolling under the pad- 
 dles. Northward, past Natchez with its clayey bluffs, 
 and Grand Gulf with its fortifieci hills, the steamer 
 sped. Six days from the day Mary left "Sterling," 
 she was in the Washington Hall hotel at Yicksburg, 
 from which place she was to start next morning for 
 Memphis. The captain had been true to his promise 
 and obtained her a nice state-room on a steamer 
 sailing the day after their arrival. So far Mary felt 
 22* 
 
258 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 as if Providence had raised up friends to aid her, and 
 as she nearcd Memphis she felt each revolution of 
 the paddles took her nearer to the field of her labors 
 and her soldier-brother. The steamboat from Vicks- 
 Ourg to Memphis was crowded, and the captain, 
 though very gentlemanly, had too much t'> do on the 
 landing of the steamer to pay any particular atten- 
 tion to any of his passengers. 
 
 Mary assumed a confidence she did not feel as she 
 ordered a can-iage through Tom, and drove to a hotel, 
 which one of the officers of the boat recommended. 
 Ever since she left Texas there was some friendly 
 link that connected her with home ; now she felt 
 utterly alone. Though her heart fluttered, she was 
 not discouraged — she was too close to her journey's end 
 for that. The hotel was filled with southern officers 
 resplendent in grey uniforms, decked with gold lace. 
 The absorbing topic of conversation seemed to be 
 war, and the streets were lined with soldiers. Indeed, 
 Mary saw so many passing on the street in one hour 
 that she began to question the power of the North to 
 conquer so large a number of strong, confident-looking 
 men. At supper she sat opposite to a splendid-look- 
 ing soldier who wore on his collar the three stars, 
 indicative of a colonel's rank in the Confederate 
 army. Without being obtrusive, he paid those little 
 well-bred attentions to his fair vis-a-vis which might 
 answer for the opening of a conversation where there 
 is no introduction. After supper, as she sat alone 
 for a few minutes in the parlor, the handsome colonel 
 entered, and, glancing over a paper which he carried 
 in his hand, he said, in a tone which might pass for a 
 soliloquy or as a remark to Mary : 
 
HAERINGTON. 259 
 
 " I see our troops have been pretty roughly handled 
 in Missouri." 
 
 To which Mary replied : " Indeed, sir ! Has there 
 been a battle ? " 
 
 " Yes, miss ; Fremont has been after our boys, and 
 it seems from the full report we were worsted. But, 
 of course, you heard about the fighting before?" 
 
 ' ' No, sir, I have not, and I must plead in extenua- 
 tion of my ignorance of war matters the fact that I 
 have been traveling for eighteen days." 
 
 "You astonish me," said the colonel looking sur- 
 prised, and dropping his paper as he continued : " I 
 trust you will pardon me, miss, but you surely have 
 not been traveling in these times eighteen days unac- 
 companied? " 
 
 " I have my servant, sir, and have been most fortu- 
 nate during my journey from Texas in meeting kind 
 friends, so that I have never felt wholly alone." 
 
 *' Might I ask if you are going further than Mem- 
 phis? I make the inquiry because I saw you arrive 
 in a carriage this evening with only your servant, and 
 I should be most happy, if you are unacquainted here, 
 .to aid you in any way." 
 
 Mary thanked the colonel, and told him she was 
 going to Kentucky, mentioning her uncle's name. 
 
 "What, Warren, of Jessamine?" asked the colonel. 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Why, they are old friends of mine. Kussell and 
 Allen I know well. Magnificent fellows they are, 
 with one of the loveliest of sisters. By the way, you 
 must be related to my old class-mate, Robert Warren ? " 
 
 " I am his sister, sir." 
 
 " What, Robert Warren's sister ! Excuse me, but J 
 
26a WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 must take your hand ; my name is Harrington. Robert 
 used to call me 'Black-eyed Susan.' Perhaps you 
 may have heard him mention me ? " 
 
 Mary assured him that she had often heard Robert 
 speak in the kindest manner of his friend of that 
 name, and she expressed her delight at meeting him. 
 
 As other persons had entered the parlor by this 
 time, Colonel Hamngton led Mary to a retired corner, 
 and after they were seated he said : 
 
 ' ' I have heard all about Robert's troubles, and some 
 terrible stories which I could not believe. I know, 
 however, that he is a Union man, but this fact does 
 not lessen my respect for him, though you see I have 
 espoused the cause of the South heart and soul. Now, 
 I do not ask your sentiments ; I know what they must 
 be under the circumstances." 
 
 Mary assured him that she was in favor of the Union, 
 and briefly related the difficulty that induced Robert 
 to leave the State, with the subsequent troubles and 
 death of her father, concluding with her own resolve 
 to undertake the journey on which she then was. 
 
 The colonel was deeply affected, and assured Mary 
 that the treatment that her family was subjected to 
 would meet the disapproval of every good southern 
 man and soldier. He begged her not to judge the 
 cause of the Confederacy by these acts, but to think 
 of the terrible sacrifice the southern people were will- 
 ing to make for a principle. He deplored the fact 
 that his sword was drawn against some of his dearest 
 friends, but he valued his love for the South more 
 dearly than his life, and consequently it was greater 
 than any friendship. He felt that he would not sur- 
 vive the war ; though he wap not superstitious, still. 
 
TROUBLE IN STORE. 261 
 
 with his convictions of duty, he was willing to lay down 
 his life. 
 
 The colonel spoke in a calm tone, without any 
 bravado, and Mary could not help admiring the noble 
 soldier, though she inwardly hoped there were but few 
 such men in the southern army. Alas there were tens 
 of thousands of men as brave, intelligent, and patri- 
 otic as the gallant Colonel Harrington, who, with a 
 devotion worthy the noblest cause for which a sword 
 was ever drawn, boldly laid down their lives for what 
 they deemed right. 
 
 The colonel told Mary he was glad he had met her 
 at that time, as his regiment left on the following 
 afternoon for Fort Donelson. He would secure a pass 
 from the provost marshal in the morning, and with 
 her permission see her safely off in the cars. Mary 
 looked the gratitude she could not express as she rose 
 to bid the colonel good night. 
 
 About ten the next morning Mary started for Bowl- 
 ing Green via Nashville, Colonel Harrington kindly 
 escorting her to the depot, and provided her with a 
 pass, without which, he informed her, it would be im- 
 possible to travel through the country occupied by the 
 southern army. So impressed was she with the value 
 of the pass that she put it away carefully in her pocket- 
 book, while she slipped the railroad ticket inside her 
 glove. 
 
 Everything passed off quietly till she approached 
 Nashville, when an officer, accompanied by an armed 
 guard, entered the car and examined the passes of 
 all the passengers. Mary saw him coming and put 
 her hand in her pocket for the pocket-book contain- 
 ing hers, when, to her horror, she found it gone. She 
 
262 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 searched nervously about her dress and in her satchel, 
 but the pass and her pocket-book were gone. By this 
 time the officer was waiting by hor side, watching her 
 excited movements. The search was vain, and she 
 stated the circumstances to the lieutenant. He seemed 
 inclined to believe her statements, but at the same 
 time he informed her that she must leave the cars at 
 Nashville and accompany him, with her servant, to 
 the office of the provost marshal. A number of gen- 
 tlemen in the car, seeing Mary's agitation, and learn- 
 ing about the lost pass, tried to induce the lieutenant 
 to let her go on, but he had his orders and was in- 
 flexible. Mary, at his request, gave him the check 
 for her trunk, which was to have gone on to Bowling 
 Green. Fear and mortification, for the time, unnerved 
 her, and when she left the car at Nashville, it required 
 all her power to keep herself from swooning. The 
 officer was at least a kind man, and at the depot he 
 ordered a carriage, and placing Mary and her sen^ant 
 inside, he directed the driver to take the trunk along 
 and drive to the City Hotel, where he must see the 
 lady provided with suitable rooms. He told Mary at 
 the same time that he would relate her case to the 
 provost marshal at once, and he doubted not but she 
 could go on by the next train. Unfortunately, it was 
 now late in the evening, and the provost marshal had 
 left his office and would not be back till the next day. 
 His deputy never made a decision without consulting 
 his principal, so, after the lieutenant had made his 
 report, he was informed that the case could not be 
 examined till next day. This was sad news to Mary, 
 but she was so conscious of her innocence of any 
 wrong, that, as she pondered the whole affair over that 
 
TOWNSEND AGAIN. 263 
 
 night, she felt convinced she would be permitted to 
 resume her journey in the morning. 
 
 That night the lieutenant, in the kindliest spirit, 
 told a gi'oup of officers and soldiers of his interesting 
 captive, and stated how *'it went against the grain to 
 compel the lady to leave the train." In answer to a 
 dozen queries as to the lady's name, and where she 
 was from, he answered : 
 
 " Miss Mary Warren ; she is on her way from Texas 
 to Kentucky." 
 
 " What 's her name?" asked an excited nasal voice, 
 as a tall, cadaverous-looking man pushed toward the 
 lieutenant. The name was repeated for this man's 
 information, who immediately said with an oath : 
 
 " Hang on ter that gal, lieutenant ; I know her like 
 a book. She 's a straight-out Yankee, and lived nigh 
 whar I com 'd from." 
 
 " The devil she is !" said the lieutenant, apparently 
 annoyed, "and who are you, and vv^here do you come 
 from?" 
 
 " Wall, I ain 't ashamed to answer them ar' ques- 
 tions all night," said the cadaverous man, edging 
 close to the lieutenant. "I belong to the Eighth 
 Texas ; my name is Henderson Townsend, an' I come 
 from Brazoria Comity, an' ain't ashamed to own it." 
 
 This was said in a tone of bravado that found an 
 echo in the breasts of many of the bystanders, judging 
 from such excited expressions as " Bully for Texas ! " 
 " G ood for the Rangers ! " " Don 't be backed down, 
 ole fel ! " " Spit out the hull yarn ! " 
 
 To "spit out the whole yarn" was exactly what 
 Townsend desired. After telling the crowd, which 
 was constantly increasing, that he had left Texis but 
 
264 WxVRREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 a short time before, he related, in his own way, the 
 facts ah-eady familiar to the reader, making himself 
 a conspicuous martyr, and closing by saying: "If 
 that gal ain't got letters on her that '11 prove what I 
 say, an' show she is travelin' fur no good, why, you 
 may call me a liar." 
 
 " Now, that 's far an' squar." " No one kin say 
 nothin' agin that," said a number of men in the crowd, 
 while the lieutenant, who was blaming himself for 
 not letting Mary go on, though she could not have 
 gone far without being subjected to another scrutiny, 
 growled out : 
 
 "Yes, and after the letters are read, if there are 
 any, I will still believe there is one daipned liar mixed 
 up in this affair." 
 
 Early next morning, the lieutenant called on Mary, 
 who grew deathly pale as she heard him recite Town- 
 send's story. As he concluded, he looked into her 
 calm, beautiful eyes for an instant, and added : " I 
 need not tell you, Miss Warren, that I do not believe 
 this man's statements. However, the examination 
 will be a very short affair. I will walk with you to 
 and from the office." 
 
 Mary thanked the lieutenant for his kind words, and 
 lefl the parlor to make preparations to accompany 
 him. She was so weak she could hardly walk up the 
 stairs, and as she glanced in the mirror, she was still 
 more frightened at the ashy paleness of her own lips 
 and face. She staggered to a chair and pressed her 
 hand to her forehead as if to ease an intense pain. 
 She had no time for tears, and no exciting sympathy 
 to make them flow. Whispering, as she clasped her 
 hands and raised her eyes to Heaven, *' Oh, thou great 
 
BEFORE THE PROVOST MARSHAL. 265 
 
 God, help me ! " she adjusted her dress and descended 
 the stairs, first telling the frightened Tom to remain 
 in the room with her trunk till she came back. 
 
 The provost marshal's office was on the first floor 
 of a high brick building that stood sternly by itself. 
 It had no shutters or blinds to its windows, and it re- 
 sembled a cold, hard face, without eyebrows. From 
 a staff in the second story, the barred flag drooped 
 over the office door, and it looked particularly awful 
 and red that chill November morning. An armed 
 guard paced before the door and hugged his gim as 
 if it contained some latent heat he wished to squeeze 
 out and appropriate to himself. The office was large 
 and dreary ; a number of maps hung on the walls, 
 with a few coarse lithographs intended to give a 
 comical idea of the Yankee retreat from Bull Eun. 
 Four clerks sat on high stools before one long desk, 
 and at the further end of the room an officer, with a 
 grey, stiff head rising above his high-collared coat, 
 peered through his spectacles at a parcel of papers 
 which he had just taken from the table before him, as 
 Mary, with the officer, entered. 
 
 " Hah ! morning. Lieutenant Cummings," said the 
 officer, glancing up at the lieutenant with his cold, 
 blue eyes, and at the same time adjusting his specta- 
 cles to scrutinize Mary. 
 
 " Good morning. Major Kimber. Have you time 
 to attend to the case I have brought this morning? " 
 
 The lieutenant spoke in a deferential way, and the 
 major put his hand to his mouth and gave two stern, 
 little coughs, as if considering whether he should be 
 offended at the interruption or not. The major hod 
 been a Middle Tennessee pettifogger, ])ut since tlie 
 
 23 
 
266 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 war he was convinced that Providence had set the 
 seal of the warrior upon him. His superior officers 
 thought differently, and detailed him for his present 
 duty. He considered it strictly military to be gruff 
 in his questions and abrupt in his replies ; to carry 
 his back in and his breast out, which, not having done 
 all his life, made the position very hard to assume at 
 fifty-eight. Though the most garrulous bar-room 
 tippler before the war, and the most approachable of 
 all selfish mortals, he deemed it duty now to make 
 every subordinate as miserable as possible, and 
 frowned fiercely on every attempt at familiarity. He 
 drowned out all complaints against his decisions by 
 the word duty, and he needed only a higher field of 
 influence to be a first-class tyrant. 
 
 " Bring your prisoner here ! " commanded the major, 
 placing his hands on the sides of his arm-chair and 
 drawing in his legs, as if preparing to spring up and 
 devour the pale, timid creature on whom he was glaring. 
 The "prisoner" having been placed in the immediate 
 presence of the august marshal, he seized a pen and 
 growled, as he jabbed it into an ink-bottle and drew a 
 sheet of paper before him, as if about to sign the 
 death-warrant of his bitterest foe, " State case." 
 
 Lieutenant Cummings briefly stated the facts con- 
 nected with Mary's detention, and humbly volunteered 
 the opinion that her story was true. 
 
 "I judge that. Heard of this case. Simmes ! '* 
 addressing one of the young men on a high stool, 
 •'Call fellow— Townsend— Eighth Texas." 
 
 Simmes called Townsend, who was posted in a back 
 room, awaiting the examination. He came in, Iiat 
 in hand, looking as innocent and moral as such a 
 
"STALE CASE." 267 
 
 scoundrel possibly could. ' ' Townsend," said the 
 major, glancing fiercely up, "Know young woman, 
 Warren ? " 
 
 " I does, very well, sir, I reckon," said Townsend, 
 glancing down at his boots. 
 
 " State case," said the major, again jabbing his pen 
 into the ink-bottle and assuming a death-warrant aspect. 
 
 Townsend related his knowledge of the Warrens 
 in his own way, spoke about the crimes of Robert, 
 and the imprisonment of his father, and concluded by 
 saying : 
 
 " Yeh can swar me, ef yeh choose, but though of 
 coiu-se yeh knows more about them things than I 
 does. I 'd say, if yeh do n' t fine papers in that young 
 lady's trunk what '11 prove what I say, why, I think 
 I 'd be willin' ter be shot." 
 
 '* Grood suggestion, very fair. Cummings, have this 
 young woman's trunk brought at once." 
 
 The lieutenant brought Mary a chair, whispered to 
 her "Don't be frightened," and then left for the 
 trunk. In a short time he returned, accompanied by 
 Tom, who, faithful to his trust, staid with the trunk, 
 and now came in crying. 
 
 *' Whose servant? " asked Major Kimber. 
 
 He was informed that the boy belonged to Miss 
 Warren. 
 
 ' * Boy ! what do you know about this young woman ? " 
 sternly asked the major, glancing at Tom, who stood 
 terribly frightened beside Mary's chair. 
 
 " Maussee," replied Tom, " I does 'nt know nothin' 
 'bout Miss Mary." 
 
 " Ought to have known niggers know nothing as 
 witnesses. Cummings, have that tnmk opened." 
 
268 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Tlie lleatenant asked Mary for the key, and opening 
 the trunk, beckoned her to his side and said : " Miss 
 Warren, please let me have all your letters, papers, 
 and journal, if you keep one. I dislike this business 
 of searching your things." 
 
 Mary walked over, took out a parcel of letters, and 
 her journal, and, handing them to the lieutenant, said : 
 "I believe these are the only papers in my posses- 
 sion." 
 
 The letters were principally to Robert from his 
 mother and Amy, and a few to friends in Kentucky. 
 Mrs. Warren's letters detailed all the troubles since 
 Robert left, and they breathed a spirit of such devoted 
 patriotism and maternal love, that Major Kimber 
 said in the middle of one which he was reading 
 aloud : 
 
 " Enough of that ; so far, good." He opened Amy's 
 letter, and muttered it over, reading aloud that part 
 which spok^ of Townsend's visit to acquaint them 
 with Robert's death. Indeed, as Amy penned the 
 sad words, she was not certain but the newspaper 
 report was correct. As Townsend heard this letter, he 
 grew livid with rage,, and said : " That part 's a lie." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir. All truth or no truth ! " 
 said the major, who evidently enjoyed the description 
 of Townsend's interview with Miss Board man. After 
 this the journal was read. T*^^ gave a daily sketch of 
 the difficulties and dangers of Mary's trip so far from 
 Texas, and it showed in the entry made at Memphis 
 that Colonel Harrington promised to procure her a 
 pass next day, and in the note made at Nashville the 
 reception of the pass and subsequent troubles were 
 related. The major deemed the case very serious. 
 
SENT TO PRISON. 269 
 
 He felt that Miss Warren, or ' ' the young woman," 
 as he called her, was a dangerous person, carrying 
 letters for the enemy and bearing with her a journal 
 of very reliable information. *' She must be held," 
 said the major. 
 
 "How?" asked the lieutenant. 
 
 " In prison," said the major, 
 
 Poor Mary, she tried to explain. She protested 
 her innocence of any intention to do wi'ong, but she 
 was speaking to a heartless man. 
 
 That night the gloomy walls of the Nashville jail 
 hemmed her in, and Tom was taken in charge by the 
 provost marshal. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 "WARREN, GATXES, AND THE TWO ii>Wi<6 
 
 Robert Warren's trip to and from Vort Donelson 
 was the most successful scout of the <\'ar up to that 
 time, still he did not like the service and made ap- 
 plication to return to his regiment , but without 
 success. General Buell decided he was the right 
 man in the right place, and induced him to act as a 
 scout with General Grant, who, aft ir the battle at 
 Fort Donelson, pushed south toward the Tennessee, 
 in the direction of Pittsbfl'g Landing. Robert had 
 an order for such details as he might require, to be 
 filled under his own direction. He had been separated 
 from Gaines for some time, and took the advantage 
 of his power to have his old friend again by his side. 
 Little Ned Dawn, who had completely recovered from 
 his wound received near Crab Orchard, was warmly 
 attached to Robert. He was a brave, cooWieaded 
 boy, with a great deal of natural intelligence, and an 
 undoubting, childlike faith in the success of the 
 IJnion cause that was very refreshing to those who 
 fully appreciated the difficulties under v»'hich the 
 Union troops fought. His grandfather, though beyond 
 the age at which troops were enlisted in the first years 
 of the war, was a strong, hearty old man, and the 
 best marksman in Allen Warren's company, which he 
 had been permitted to join. During the long marches 
 
WARREN'S SCOUTING PARTY. 271 
 
 and severe vidette duty, from Donelson to the Ten- 
 nessee, he was ever at his post, doing his whole duty, 
 and the most uncomplaining of men, when others 
 showed a disposition to growl. Captain "Warren had 
 a great deal of respect for the old patriot, and, after 
 he had learned his wonderful powers of endurance 
 and his coolness and good sense in danger, he con- 
 sidered him the best man in his squadron. However, 
 he was willing to let him go with Little Ned and 
 Gaines. These three, with a young Scotchman named 
 Aleck Cameron, who had worked as an itinerant watch- 
 mender in every part of the State before the war, 
 constituted Robert Warren's command. Robert had 
 been busy during the whole campaign, as the Union 
 forces pushed through the very heart of the secession 
 part of Tennessee. The greater part of the time he 
 was absent from his company, and now, as every day 
 brought Grant and Sidney Johnston closer together, 
 he longed to be with the squadron and participate 
 in its actions. Stories of immense forces in and 
 around the town of Corinth reached the Union Army, 
 while the rumor was daily spreading through the 
 Union camp that Forrest and Breckinridge w^ere 
 closing in from the direction of Bolivar and Memphis. 
 Scarce a day passed without the capture of small 
 bands of recruits, who were making their way south 
 to join Breckinridge, while the roads were crowded 
 with fugitives flying with ill-grounded fears before the 
 Union advance. 
 
 At this time Robert was not delighted to receive 
 an order to scout in the direction of Bolivar, and, if 
 possible, to enter the town and ascertain the numbers 
 and intention of the enemy. The undertaking, to 
 
272 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 him, was particularly difficult, as the Texas Rangers 
 at that time were in and aromid Bolivar, and to be 
 recognized by any of them would be certain ruin. 
 To enter the lines of the enemy is an easy matter at 
 any time. The difficulty of getting out should be an 
 important consideration in every plan, and in the 
 contemplated scout Robert gave it a fitting promi- 
 nence. He determined to leave the Union lines in 
 the early night and ride from Waynesboro' northwest 
 into Henderson County, a distance of forty miles, and 
 then turn south toward Bolivar. The whole distance 
 to be traveled was two hundred and fifty miles, and 
 this he hoped to accomplish in one week. Dressed 
 as citizens, well armed and finely mounted, Robert 
 Warren and his four men passed the outer pickets at 
 eight o'clock on the night of March 23. It was very 
 dark, and a driving sleet from the north beat in their 
 faces, and made the gloom and blackness more op- 
 pressive. The roads were in a very bad condition, 
 and the frequent application of the spur was necessary 
 to urge the animals against the biting storm Fre- 
 quently during the night Robert dismounted before 
 some house near the roadside and inquired the road, 
 and the intimation that he was a soldier going to join 
 the forces near Bolivar always secured him the 
 desired information. By daylight the scouts reached 
 Clayville, in Henderson County, stiff and cold from 
 their ride of forty-three miles, and standing much in 
 need of the hospitality extended to them by Mr. 
 Sweeny, proprietor of the Jackson House at that 
 place. There were no soldiers in the toTV7i, ?ind the 
 news of the arrival of strangers from the outside 
 world soon brought all the old men and boys in town 
 
WITHIN THE ENEMY'S LINES. 273 
 
 to the hotel to learn the news. They had had no 
 mail for a long time, and the people were despondent, 
 for they feared that another reverse like that at Fort 
 Donelson would end the Confederacy. 
 
 Robert did the talking for his party, and he caused 
 little Ned to look up with wondering eyes as he said 
 to an old planter named Chew, to whom he had been 
 introduced : 
 
 "No, sir; a dozen defeats like Donelson will not 
 ruin our cause. You do your duty at home, and we 
 will do oiurs in the field. We are willing to give our 
 lives for our country. You must be willing to give 
 up your homes, if need be, to save it." 
 
 "Very true," said the old planter, while a fiery- 
 looking man, who walked with a crutch and dressed 
 very shabbily, said : 
 
 "Them's my ideas to a dot. If yeh can 't fight, 
 why give up everything yeh have ; that 's what I 've 
 got to say." 
 
 The lame man emphasized his views by taking a 
 fresh chew of tobacco, and looking at the old planter 
 with a stare that seemed to say : " Now, shell out, old 
 skinflint ! " 
 
 " I am willing to give where my property can be 
 used to advantage," said Mr. Chew, looking coldly 
 at the lame man, "but I don't see the necessity for 
 throwing it away in order that I may be as poor as 
 my neighbors." 
 
 "Mr. Chew," said the lame man savagely, "I sent 
 my only boy to fight. You sent no one coz ye 've 
 only got a daughter. Now you 're rich, I 'm poor ; 
 you've got seventy niggars to work for yeh, I ain't 
 got none. You voted fur secession, so did I, but I 'v« 
 
274 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 got to starve or work with this d — d crutch under my 
 arm, while you are comfortable, and sleep without 
 fearin' your boy will be killed next fight. I ain't sorry 
 fur what I did, but it looks very much as if I, a poor 
 man, was givin' up all to make you richer an' vsave 
 your niggars." 
 
 *' Do n't rile so, Tom Oliver," said the landlord, who 
 formed one of the circle that stood about Robert, 
 " If yeh ever want food or anything I have, why come 
 after it an I '11 give it yeh." 
 
 *' Yees, an' yeh 'd give it in the same way to Aunt 
 Clop, the blind niggar. No, what I wants is to get 
 support as a right, not like a beggar. I want this war 
 game to be dealt out far. Should I beg, and should 
 Mrs. Baker have to take in washin' jes' coz I gave up 
 my boy, and coz she sent her boy to the war? It ain't 
 far, I be cussed if it is." 
 
 ' ' Gentlemen,' ' said Robert after the lame man had 
 concluded, "I am sorry this visit of mine should have 
 led to any expression of ill-feeling. This is a time 
 for exercising the most generous charity, and making 
 the greatest sacrifices. Our friend,' ' pointing to the 
 lame man, " deserves our respect and support, so does 
 the woman of whom he has spoken. Now permit 
 me with this one-hundred-dollar bill, in good Confed- 
 erate money, to head a subscription for those good 
 people, and let every man in your village give what he 
 can for the same purpose, and when the sum is ex- 
 hausted start a new list, and I will leave another 
 hundred dollars with the landlord to head it." 
 
 These remarks of Robert gave great satisfaction, 
 particularly to the lame man, and his generous con- 
 duct was imitated on the spot by a dozen men. Invi- 
 
INTERVIEWING BRECKINRIDGE. 275 
 
 tationsto drink came in from all sides, and Mr. Chew 
 pressingly invited lilm to his house, but Eobert, who 
 wanted sleep and wished to be in the saddle again 
 by the afternoon, thankfully declined, and was per- 
 mitted to retire at once. 
 
 By four in the afternoon the scouts were up, and 
 their horses saddled. The fame of Kobert's act had 
 spread throughout the village, and men, women, and 
 childreyi gathered to wish him God-speed on his jour- 
 ney, and pray for his safe return from the war. 
 
 The day after their departure from Clayville, the 
 scouts began to encounter small bodies of mounted 
 men and foraging parties from Bolivar, They learned 
 that there were some Texans there, but that the 
 greater part of the rangers were at Corinth. It was 
 impossible to ascertain the strength of the Confeder- 
 ate forces at Bolivar, as he was informed there was 
 great activity among them, and the troops were con- 
 tinually on the move. 
 
 Bobert hit upon his plan and determined to enter 
 Bolivar with his companions, and report at once to 
 General Breckinridge. About 8 o'clock at night, and 
 three days after he had left the Union lines, he was 
 at a small tavern in Bolivar, preparing to call on Gen- 
 eral Breckinridge. 
 
 The orderly before the general's headquarters scru- 
 tinized closely the large, heavy-set man with short, 
 red hair and long, red beard, who wished to see Gen- 
 eral Breckinridge, The general was busy with 
 Colonel Hanson, and would not like to be disturbed, 
 except on official business, so the orderly said. 
 
 " Now, fren', you jes' tell the ginral I come from 
 Kaintuck, an' hev some news fur him, Yankee papers 
 
f76 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 an' sich, an' I reckon he'll let Sol Bums in. Tell him 
 I voted fur him an' I'll fight fur him," So saying, 
 Sol Burns walked forward as if he would go in with- 
 out any fm*ther announcement, but the orderly stepped 
 before him, and telling him to wait, he entered the 
 general's room. He returned shortly, and Sol Burns 
 was conducted in. There he sat like a soldier prince, 
 looking more handsome and lordly than when Robert 
 saw him in Lexington. Piles of papers were crowded 
 before him on the table, and he was evidently busy 
 with some writing. Colonel Hanson was reading, with 
 a bottle and pitcher beside him, and two tumblers, 
 one of which was moved toward the general. 
 
 The general looked up as he heard the scraping 
 sound of Sol Burns's heavy boots. 
 
 *' What do you v/ant with me, my man?" asked the 
 general, as Sol advanced with his brown hand extended. 
 
 "I wants to shake yer han', ginral, an' to give yeh 
 some news from Kaintuck. Ginral, I 'm Sol Bums, 
 from Owen. Yeh know me " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Bums ; glad to see you," said the 
 general, as he shook hands with Sol, then took up his 
 pen and crossed a "t." 
 
 " Ginral, won't it be all right to speak right out 
 afore this gentleman?" pointing to Hanson. 
 
 ''Oh, yes, perfectly safe. Please be quick, Mr. Burns." 
 
 "Wall, I will, ginral. Thar's a lot of Yankee 
 papers. Whin I corned through I jis' friz on to 'em ; 
 fur, thinks I, the ginral will like to see how the Yanks 
 gin him hell." 
 
 " Very kind in you, indeed," said the general, seiz- 
 ing the bimdle eagerly, and handing some of the 
 papers to Colonel Hanson, " but where did you come 
 from, and what do you purpose doing?" 
 
SOL BURNS TAKES A DRINK. 277 
 
 " Wall, ginral, me an' my boy an' two neighbors 
 lef home arter the d— d Yankees tuk DonelsonT We 
 couldn't Stan' it no longer. We wanted to git tc 
 Morgan, but the Yanks kep' a gittin' in our road, an' 
 we had to come slap through 'em a few days ago. I 
 swar it made mv^har rise !" 
 
 The general dropped the paper and looked sharply, 
 at Sol, who drew closer to the table and was toying 
 with the neck of the black bottle. The general's 
 face immediately relaxed, and, wdth a smile, he asked 
 Sol if he ever drank. 
 
 "Wall, not much, ginral, but I'd break an oath to 
 drink wath you." 
 
 The general told him to help himself, which Sol 
 did in the most generous way. After this he told the 
 general all he knew about the Yankee forces, and 
 the knowledge he had picked up amazed the general, 
 for it corroborated in many points information he 
 had recently obtained. 
 
 Colonel Hanson proposed to Sol that he and his 
 friends should join his regiment, but Sol was deter- 
 mined to join Morgan, and begged the general to put 
 him on the track. After some further conversation 
 the general called an officer from an adjoining room 
 and directed him to take care of Bums and his friend. 
 
 "But, ginral," said Sol, as he was going to the 
 do®r, " when am I to mt off to Morgan '^" 
 
 *' I will see you about it in the morning," said the 
 general. " Come here about nine, and we will talk it 
 all over." 
 
 Sol promised to do so, and, shaking hands with the 
 general and Colonel Hanson, he walked out with 
 Lieutenant Mason. The drizzling rain still continued, 
 24 
 
273 "\V"ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and the lieutenant did not like the idea of having to 
 go to the provost marshal's, and perhaps to the recruit 
 camp. Sol appreciated the lieutenant's position, and 
 informed him that he could stay for the night very 
 comfortably at the tavern where his friends were. 
 Being assured of this the lieutenant returned, refusing 
 Sol's invitation to "come somewhars an' takesuthin'." 
 
 There was but little sleep for Robert that night. 
 He divided the time with reliefs, and kept one of 
 the men always on the watch at the stable to prevent 
 the horses being stolen. He carefully thought over 
 every point he had gained since leaving the Union 
 lines, and wondered as to the course he should pursue 
 if Greneral Breckinridge refused to let him hunt up 
 Morgan's command, which was at that time in North- 
 eastern Middle Tennessee. 
 
 At half-past eight o'clock Sol Burns, with his hat 
 slouched and smoking a corn-cob pipe, passed down 
 the street tov/ard General Breckinridge's headquar- 
 ters. He looked like a great, rough backwoodsman, 
 and more than one man whom he passed looked back 
 and thought " that red- whiskered chap would be an 
 ugly man to handle." 
 
 Sol Burns waited at the door for the general's 
 arrival, and as he leaned against the hitching-post ar 
 hand was laid on his shoulder and a familiar voice 
 said : 
 
 " Frien', give me some of yer fire." 
 
 Sol Bums did not look up, but for an instant his 
 heart stopped beating and a tremor ran through his 
 powerful frame. It was the voice of Henderson 
 Townsend, made still more certain by the repetition : 
 
 " Say, frien', will yeh let me have a light?" 
 
AN UNWELCOME INTEELOCUTOR. 279 
 
 Knocking tlie ashes from the corn-cob pipe, Sol 
 Burns said, " Sartin, stranger, sartin ;" and with his 
 eyes still cast dovra he handed the pipe in the direc- 
 tioa of the voice. 
 
 He heard the puffing incident to a pipe which does 
 not draw well, and looking up his fears were confirmed. 
 There was the freckled, cadaverous face of Townsend, 
 thinner and more repulsive than ever. 
 
 "Ain't yeh a feelin' well, frien'?" asked Townsend 
 as he handed back the pipe. 
 
 *' I 'm feelin* right smart," said Sol Bums, still 
 looking down. 
 
 " It ain't healthy weather somehow now," said 
 Townsend. 
 
 " No, not for some constitutions," said Sol. " 1 
 suppose, mister, you feel purty sick about these 
 times?" 
 
 " Wall, yes ; I ain't just well. I've been a ridin' 
 hard, an' my reegment is alius a fightin', an' I got on 
 the sick list." 
 
 " What is yer reegment, and whar is it now?" asked 
 Sol, playing with the handle of a huge revolver, which 
 protruded from the holster at his side. 
 
 "lb 'long ter the Eighth Texas. Some is here, and 
 I specs they '11 mosly be in this evenin'." 
 
 "Yer kernel's Wharton, I reckox.?" said Sol in an 
 inquiring tone. 
 
 " No ; Wharton 's major or lieutenan'^-kemel, don't 
 know which jes' now. Yeh see I ain't with 'em much. 
 Terry, yeh know, is kernel." Townsend stopped for 
 a second, and continued, " I 'm a waitin' ter see 
 Wharton here this momin'.. I heerd he 'd be along to 
 see Gineral Breckinridge." 
 
280 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 As Townsend spoke General Breckinridge passed 
 in, and, recognizing Sol Bums, he told him to enter, 
 which Sol very quickly did. 
 
 "Burns," said the general, " I think it will be im- 
 possible for you to reach Morgan at present. How- 
 ever, I will let you try. You will return if you meet 
 the Yankees ; but first find out all you can about 
 them. You must go by way of Pittsburg Landing and 
 around by Tuscumbia. I will have passes for your- 
 self and men. Lieutenant Mason will attend to it. I 
 think it best, however, in case you should be captured^ 
 that you and your friends should first be mustered into 
 the Confederate States service. I will make you a 
 sergeant, and give you charge of the party. Come 
 here about noon." 
 
 " Very well, ginral, I '11 be along and git mustered," 
 said Sol as he walked out. He passed TouTisend out- 
 side, and resisted that individual's efforts to draw him 
 into conversation. 
 
 Returning to the hotel, he left Little Ned in charge 
 of the horses, and giving instructions to the rest they 
 walked out and rambled around the town and camp, 
 each one taking a different course, and returning to 
 the tavern at noon. Gaines was disguised, but as he 
 had no control over his voice Bobert instructed him 
 to speak guardedly, and to see that there were no 
 Texan men near should he get into conversation with 
 any person. 
 
 At the appointed time Sol Burns reported at Gen- 
 eral Breckinridge's headquarters, and after some delay 
 he succeeded in getting in, when he was sent to Lieu- 
 tenant Mason's desk. The lieutenant had a pass al- 
 ready signed, and in which he wrote the names of 
 
TOWNSE>.D'S FRIGHT. 281 
 
 Sol Burns and his friends. He gave him the pass, 
 and a letter to the mustering officer, and telling him 
 to return in the afternoon, as the general wished to 
 see him, he motioned him toward the door. As he 
 passed out he met Townsend, and not expecting tc 
 see him, he looked him directly in the face. And an 
 ashy pallor came over To^vnsend's face as their eyes met, 
 and he staggered against the post with his mouth 
 open. Sol Burns saw the change, and, walking up, said, 
 *' Stranger I reckon yer sickness is wus than it was?" 
 
 "God, ye've nearly skeered me out o' my boots," 
 said Townsend, gasping. " I reckon my wits is leavin' 
 me. Bentley, who's jes' gone ter camp, and I was walkin 
 'long, and I seed a fellar I know'd ter be dead. An' 
 jes' as you com'd out that ar door I'd a swore yeh 
 wus a chap named Bob Warren. He's dead too, sir — 
 it makes me sick." 
 
 *' I reckon ye've been drinkin' right smart," said 
 Sol. " Drink's bad fur the eyes. Kin you tell m.e, 
 stranger, whar I'll find Cap'n Pollock's office, him as 
 swars fellers ?" 
 
 Townsend gave the desired information, and Sol 
 Bums sauntered leisurely away. Once he dropped his 
 pipe, and stooping to pick it up he looked between his 
 legs and saw Townsend gazing after him with the 
 greatest earnestness. Turning a corner he quickened 
 his gait and hurried to the tavern. He found Gaines 
 very much excited and alarmed. He had passed 
 Bentley and Townsend, and he heard Townsend repeat 
 his name, and make some remark to Bentley. He tried 
 to be cool, but they followed him for some distance, 
 and he returned to the tavern feeling convinced that 
 they watched him. " We must leave here inside of 
 24* 
 
JS2 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ten minutes. Be calm, Gaines. Ned, saddle your 
 horse and mine. Be sure the girths are right. Lead 
 the horses to the door and hold them with the bridle- 
 reins over their heads till I come." 
 
 " All right, sir," said little Ned, walking to the 
 stable, " I'll have dem out in ten seconds." 
 
 Old Dawn and Aleck Cameron returned from their 
 trip quite calm, but the latter was somewhat nervous 
 when he heard Robert's now decided order to saddle 
 and mount. 
 
 Robert entered the tavern, before which there was 
 a crowd of soldiers, and asked for his bill. While the 
 landlord was mentally calculating the amount, he took 
 out the pass signed by G-eneral Breckinridge, and 
 showing it to a tall young man with long hair and a 
 broad-brimmed hat, he asked him which was the best 
 road to Corinth. 
 
 " Thar's only one road, stranger, and that's about 
 as fit to wagon over as cold mush is to make bricks 
 of," said the young man. 
 
 " I reckon the roads is bad, but I'm agoin' on horse- 
 back. Got orders to go on at once, an' thar's no use 
 a tryin' to git out of it," said Robert, folding the pass 
 and putting it in his pocket. 
 
 The young man gave the proper directions. The 
 road ran past General Forrest's headquarters, and con- 
 tinued nearly southeast. 
 
 Robert settled the bill, treated every body in the 
 bar-room, including the landlord, and mounting with 
 his companions, he rode leisurely out of Bolivar. As 
 they passed Forrest's headquarters they saw Colonel 
 "Wharton and Bentley busy in conversation. Bentley 
 was gesticulating with a gi-eat deal of emphasis, 
 
PURSUED. 283 
 
 while Whai'ton looked at the ground, stroked his yel- 
 low moustache, and nervouly swayed himself back and 
 forth on his heels. Robert appeared not to notice 
 them, but his presence startled both the men., for they 
 suddenly stopped their conversation, and gazed earn- 
 estly after the little cavalcade. Still Robert contin- 
 ued at a walk, and after they had gone about fifty 
 yards beyond where Wharton stood, he whispered to 
 little Ned to look back. Ned did so, and reported 
 the two men they had passed walking hurriedly in the 
 direction of General Breckinridge's headquarters. It 
 was two hundred yards ahead to a turn in the road, 
 and over that distance the scouts rode their horses, 
 never looking back. Passing the turn, Robert has- 
 tily directed the men to look to their arms and see if 
 all v.-as right. This done, he asked each man- if his 
 horse was in good condition, and received an affirma- 
 tive reply. 
 
 " Well, boys, we have a hard ride before us, and 
 perhaps a hard fight ; before twenty minutes we will 
 be pursued. Keep well together, and remember there 
 is a rope awaiting in Bolivar for the man that surren- 
 ders." 
 
 There was no reply to these remarks of Rot)ert, 
 but he saw the determined faces, and the shortened 
 hold the men took of their bridle-reins. 
 
 '' Follow me !" As Robert said this he struck the 
 spurs into the sleek sides of Don, and the noble ani- 
 mal ^evi ahead, and the others followed close at the 
 same rapid gait. 
 
 Tv>o miles out they vrere halted by some pickets, 
 and Robert produced the pass which enabled them to 
 keep on. For three hours, till the sun began to set 
 
284 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 over the western line of tall trees, the scouts kept 
 on at the same fiy'mg rate. As they were rising a 
 declivity, little Ned's horse became perceptibly lame, 
 and they discovered that he had cast a shoe some 
 time before, judging from the broken condition of his 
 hoof. On gaining the crest of the ridge they had a 
 view of the Bolivar road for four miles, and ds Kobert 
 turned to look back, he saw a body of galloping 
 horsemen standing out like black silhouettes against 
 the red western sky. 
 
 "Ned, take the bridle and saddle off your horse, 
 quick ! There, chase him into the woods. Throw the 
 traps behind that log." Ned did as Robert directed. 
 *' Now jump up behind me, quick. Hold on hard." 
 Ned vaulted up lightly behind Robert, and again the 
 powerful Don bounded ahead, evidently unconscious 
 of the extra weight he carried. It was gi'owing dark 
 rapidly. They were a good thirty miles from Bolivar, 
 and four ahead of their pursuers, if pursuers they 
 were. The road led through a dense wood for about 
 two miles, and it was so bad that the horses could 
 only struggle along at a brisk walk. Beyond the 
 woods the road forked, and Robert unhesitatingly 
 wheeled to the left, knov/ing from the course that it 
 led in the direction of the Union Army. For two 
 hours the horses staggered through the mire and over 
 patches of corduroy that seemed afloat in the fluid 
 mud, then suddenly the road terminated, and a broad 
 swollen river flovved across the path of the scouts. 
 There was no time to lose. Riding a short distance 
 up the bank all dismounted, and Robert took the sad- 
 dle ofi" Don, and stripping off" all his own clothing he 
 buckled his pistol belt around his waist and mounted. 
 
CROSSING THE RUBICON. 2b5 
 
 *' Aleck Cameron, let Ned hold your horse. Go 
 back Vvdthin calling distance on the road, and if you 
 hear horsemen advancing call me at once. Gaines, 
 let Dawn hold your horse, and come to the river bank 
 with your grazing rope, to aid me if necessary. There 
 was a ferry here once, I see, so that the chances of 
 fording are small, 'but I'll try it." 
 
 The disposition of the little force was quickly made, 
 and Robert rode to the water's edge. Don stooped, 
 drank for a few seconds, then showed a disposition to 
 withdraw his fine fore limbs from the nmd into which 
 they were sinking, and go back, but the rider shook 
 the bridle, pressed his heels to the hot, sleek sides, 
 and Don cautiously waded in. A few yards of mud 
 and cold water, then horse and rider sank for a sec- 
 ond in the black river, and emerging, the panting 
 animal headed for the opposite shore, whose indistinct 
 outline seemed miles away. Gradually the white form 
 and the puffing sounds of the horse seemed lost down 
 the river, where the merciless current was bearing 
 them. The men on shore in breathless anxiety 
 watched the perilous undertaking, and though dis- 
 appointed in the result, it was with a feeling of satis- 
 faction they saw the white form nearing the shore 
 which he left, two hundred yards further down. 
 
 " We can 't cross here, that's settled. Come, Ned, let 
 your grandfather hold the horses ; walk Don up and 
 down as fast as you can while I dress." 
 
 Robert's teeth chattered with the severe chilling 
 he had just received, but he was not conscious of cold 
 or fatigue. All his thoughts vrere busy considering 
 theu' situation and planning for escape. His fears 
 were not personal ; the success of the undertaking. 
 
286 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and tiie return to the Union lines with the valuable 
 information he had obtained, were the great incentives 
 that moved him. 
 
 Resactdling Don, Aleck Cameron was recalled, and 
 Kobert decided to ride down the river. If pursued, 
 the enemy had already passed the cross-roads going 
 in the direction of Shiloh, or had come in on the one 
 they had taken. The latter was the most natural 
 inference, as they would be guided at a doubtful point 
 by the tracks in the mud. Down the river, over creeks, 
 through patches of timber, and across soft, miry fields 
 they urged their horses till a grey streak in the east 
 told them that day was approaching. Seeing a light 
 ahead, and feeling the necessity for feeding their 
 horses aud refreshing themselves, the whole party 
 rode boldly up, and dismounted before a cluster of 
 negro cabins, where the hands were up and busy with 
 their morning meal. In answer to Robert's question 
 of "Who lives here?" at the door of a cabin, an old 
 negro, evidently confused at the sudden appearance 
 Srthe horsemen, said, "Nobody does'nt lib heah, 
 mausser. This is jest a plantation." 
 
 "Who owns the plantation?" asked Robert. 
 
 ** Mausser Mclntyre, mausser." 
 
 "A good Scotch name," said Aleck Cameron, draw- 
 ing near. 
 
 ' • Where does Mr. Mclntyre live ?" asked Robert. 
 
 " Oh, he 's done gone to Bolver. Libs dar, *cept 
 sometimes comes down to see how we gits on," said 
 the old negro, in a more composed tone. 
 
 " What is your overseer's name, and where is his 
 house?" asked Robert, throwing Don's bridle to Little 
 Ned. 
 
SAMPSON— RELIEF. 287 
 
 "De overseer's name 's Sampson, sah, an' he libs 
 heah in dis house. I 's de overseer, mauss." The 
 old negro evidently thought this a joke, for he indulged 
 in a chuckling laugh. 
 
 " Glad to see you, Sampson," said Robert by way 
 of introduction." Are there many colored overseers 
 in this section ?" 
 
 " Oh yes, mauss ; lots since the wah.'* 
 
 "Well, Sampson, myself and friends have been 
 riding all night trying to find a crossing in this infernal 
 river. What do you call it?" 
 
 " White Oak Creek, mauss." 
 
 " It is certainly a gentle creek. Now, Uncle Samp- 
 son, I want to pay you well for whatever help you give me^ 
 Can you feed our horses and get us something to eat ?" 
 
 "Lor', mauss, I kin feed de bosses, but we ain't got 
 nothin' wot white folks ud eat no how," said Samp- 
 son, with a closing chuckle. 
 
 " What have you to eat ?" 
 
 " Oh, corn bread an' bacon, an' milk. Den dars 
 chickens an' eggs, but de folks about owns 'em, and 
 sets a big price on 'em." 
 
 ** I don 't care about the price. Now call out some 
 one and have the horses put in a dry place and fed 
 and well rubbed. You understand ?" 
 
 "Yes, sah." 
 
 In a few seconds the jaded horses were divested of 
 their equipments, and, under the superintendence of 
 Gaines, they were being attended to. In the mean- 
 time Sampson called some black people and made a 
 requisition for eggs, v.-hile the weary scouts carried 
 their saddles into the cabin and warmed themselves 
 as they rested around the blazing fire. 
 
288 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The cooking was done in a shanty close by, from 
 which came the sputtering sound of frying bacon and 
 the metallic ring of the hot oven lid. 
 
 Sampson rightly judged the appetites of the hungry 
 men by his expedition and the large quantities of 
 food he prepared. When the meal of corn-dodgers, 
 bacon, eggs, and boiled milk was brought in the old 
 negro, who stood watching the men as they ate, seemed 
 lost in wonder, and uttered at every huge mouthful, 
 " Good Lor' ! dat beats ebryting ! Neber knowd 
 sich ! Ki yi, but dat ar egg jest went quick ! Reckon 
 dem gen'lmen wuz neber ^veaned. Dey jest goes fur 
 de milk, sartin !" 
 
 Never did men enjoy a meal more than Warren's 
 scouts the breakfast prepared by the negroes, and 
 Robert, who knew very well that every particle of it, 
 excepting the eggs, came from the weekly allowance 
 of the hands, determined to remunerate them well for 
 their kindness. 
 
 After breakfast he learned from Sampson that they 
 were only forty-five miles from Bolivar, though they 
 must have ridden over seventy. They were ten miles 
 from the Shiloh road, and about twenty from the 
 Tennessee river. Sampson also informed him that 
 the plantation was seldom visited, and the nearest 
 white people were a mile off. Robert knew the negro 
 character thoroughly, and he determined to trust this 
 old man, who certainly must be reliable to be en- 
 trusted by his master with the care of twenty hands 
 and two hundred acres of cotton. 
 
 " Sampson, are you a secessionist or a Union man ?" 
 asked Robert, as he lit his pipe and stretched himself 
 beside Gaines on the hearth. 
 
SAMPSON DEFINES HIS POSITION. 289 
 
 *' Oh, mauss, I ain't notliin', 'cept, praise de Lor', 
 I 's a Methodist !" said Sampson^ leaning against the 
 wide chimney side, and looking earnestly at his ques- 
 tioner. 
 
 "And a very good road the Methodists have marked 
 out to the better land, Sampson. No corduroys oi 
 pontoons, but direct and straight." 
 
 " Yes, mauss," interrupted Sampson, in a severely 
 religious tone, "but de straight an' narrer road's 
 filled wud truble an' kar', like great rocks, an' many 
 ob de poor sinners gwine home to glory stumble 
 an' fall, an' git womed an' come back ; but praise de 
 Lor', mauss, I'll keep on a few years more, an' I'll 
 reach de ribber as you did, but de ferry will be dar, an' 
 de new life, an' frien's on de odder bank, an' de Lamb 
 who '11 take de trubbled to His bres', an' make all like 
 a liddle chile." 
 
 The conversation had taken a religious turn which 
 Robert had not expected, but he was glad of it, for it 
 confirmed his previous opinion of the old man. 
 
 *' Do you think the war very wicked, Sampson?'* 
 
 " "Wall, mauss, I 's only a darkey ; do n't matter 
 what I tinks. De Lor' of Battles kin only fight on 
 one side, an' when He bares de arm for destruction, 
 no man kin stan'." 
 
 "How would you treat the Yankees if they were to 
 come here, Sampson?" 
 
 *' Jes', mauss, as I 've treated you ; for de Lor* says, 
 *As yeh've helped de smallest ob dese, so I '11 stan' 
 by you :' an' sometimes we keers fur angels in de 
 skies," (disguise.) 
 
 " "Would it frighten you, Sampson, if I were to tell 
 you that myself and friends are Yankees, and that we 
 25 
 
290 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 have lost our way, and would you aid us to get to the 
 Union lines?" 
 
 llobert sat up as he spoke, and he and his compan- 
 ions watched the countenance of the old darkey. He 
 evinced but little surprise ; indeed a look of incredu- 
 lity gradually spread over his face, and with a forced 
 smile, Sampson said : 
 
 ** Now, mauss, yeh knows I do n' t want to do no 
 harm ; I *s jes' an' ole darkey, doin* all de Lor* calls 
 me to do, neider lookin' to de right nor de lef." 
 
 Robert rose and taking the black man's hand in his, 
 he looked earnestly into his eyes for a few seconds, 
 and the mild, dark eyes of the negro met his with the 
 confidence of a child. 
 
 " Sampson, I belong to the Union Army ; I would 
 not deceive you. You know we are the friends of the 
 black man. Can I depend on you for aid?" 
 
 llobert did not stop to think as he said "we are the 
 friends of the black man," for at that very time every 
 negro who sought the Union lines, in the hope of free- 
 dom, was reshackled by the Union troops, anxious to 
 conciliate treason, and handed over to the person who 
 claimed to be his master. Sampson knew this, for 
 a system of carrying news prevailed among the slaves 
 of the South really marvelous when we consider their 
 advantages. 
 
 " Mausser, de slaves have no frien' but de Lor'. My 
 son, my only chile, 'scaped to de Yankee Army one 
 month ago. His mudder libed on anodder place. His 
 mausser went to de Yankee sojers, an' dey gabe him 
 de chile." Here the tears began to course down the 
 old man's face, and he drew his rough coat-sleeve 
 across his eyes. 
 
A TOUCHING STORY. 291 
 
 ""Well, where is your boy now, Sampson?" asked 
 Robert, nervously. 
 
 " Grone ; gone, mausser, whar de weary head 's at 
 res'. Dey brought Bill back, to make a zample of, 
 his mausser said. An' dey tied him up afore all de 
 ban's of all de plantations roun' fur miles. I wuz dar, 
 mausser; I wuz dar, an' his mudder wuz dar — de 
 chile's mudder wuz dar !" 
 
 The old man walked to the little, rude bedstead, 
 and bowed his head upon his hands as he sat down, 
 while the hot tears flowed through his long fingers. 
 No word was spoken for some time, when the old man 
 raised his head and continued : 
 
 "Dey whipped him till de blood poured to de 
 groun' ; till he could n't cry any mor* , an' jes' hung 
 by his ban's, wud his head on his shoulder an' groaned. 
 Dey kep' him dar all day wud de sun a shinin* on his 
 bloody back, an' no one could gib 'im a drink. Dat 
 night dey cut de ropes, an' Bill fell dead on de groun' ! 
 Mauss, do n't blame me fur cryin' ; I 's ole an' weak, 
 an' Bill wuz my only boy. I did n't hab much in de 
 worl' afore ; dar 's nothin' now." 
 
 Every eye was moist as the old man finished his 
 story, and little Ned sobbed aloud. The old man no- 
 ticed him, and said : 
 
 " Do n't fret, honey ; de good Lor* knows what *s 
 bes' fur dose He lubs. I 'se willin' ; I 'se willin', what- 
 ever come." 
 
 Robert was busy for some minutes with his own 
 thoughts. The whole hideousness of slavery dawned 
 on his mind as never before, and v/hen again he spoke 
 it was with the resolve to add freedom to Union in 
 the motives that led him to battle. 
 
292 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Sampson, my heart is very sad at your story, but 
 your shackles will be melted in the fiimace of this 
 terrible war. Wait, God is directing ns." 
 
 " Yes, mausser, I 's willin' to wait, trustin' in de 
 Lor'. An' now, mauss, anything I kin do fur yeh dat 
 won't barm Mauss Mclntyre, I '11 do." 
 
 " I am obliged to you, Sampson. I want you to let 
 me stay here, or some place near here, where our 
 horses can rest till the evening, and then send a man 
 who can guide us to the Tennessee or to some point 
 where I can cross this river." 
 
 *' Mausser, yeh kin all res' here, I reckon, till de 
 night. I 's got a boat about two miles down de crik. 
 We kin put all de tings in dat an' swim de bosses." 
 
 "Just the thing, Sampson ; I do n't like rafts. You 
 are sure we are safe here ?" 
 
 *'Sartin, shuah, mauss.'* 
 
 " Very well ; I will keep a guard up to look out for 
 danger, and I want you to tell me if any white man 
 approaches." 
 
 **I will, mauss ; an' now I hope yeh kin res', an* dat 
 de Lor' will guard yeh." 
 
 Robert stood guard first while the others slept, and 
 Sampson went to the fields. 
 
 Though one of the scouts was kept continually 
 on guard during the day, the whole party had a 
 good rest by five in the afternoon. Sampson had 
 shown more interest in this guard duty than could 
 have been expected, for in the early morning he sent 
 out two men some miles from the place, one up the 
 creek and the other out toward the Shiloh road, to 
 report the advance of any white men. Shortly after 
 five the black man stationed up the creek came run- 
 
«DE LOK' OB ISRAEL TVATCH YEHI'» 293 
 
 ning back, breathless with fear and fatigue. He re- 
 ported ten horsemen, all armed, coming toward the 
 plantation. Sampson was on hand in a moment, and 
 the horses were saddled. Eobert in the mean time 
 forced a fifty-dollar United States note into the reluct- 
 ant hand of the old man. 
 
 " I do not want to get you into trouble, Sampson ; 
 but where can I find that boat, if I need it V asked 
 Robert. "' 
 
 Sampson quickly described its location, and gave 
 him the key that unlocked it. 
 
 " Now, Sampson, I am off. Grod bless you ! De- 
 tain those men, whoever they may be, as long as you 
 can. If I find the boat, and get a half hour's start, 
 I will laugh at the rebels." 
 
 " May de Lor* ob Israel watch yeh, mauss !" said 
 Sampson as the scouts mounted. Then, seeing little 
 Ned leaping up behind Robert, he continued : «* 'Fore 
 Heaven, I 'd like to git a boss fur dat chile, but I 've 
 only got mules." 
 
 *' Thank you, Uncle Sampson, mules are two slow. 
 This horse can carry us," said Robert, as he patted 
 the arched neck of the noble Don. " And, now, good- 
 bye. I will never forget you !" 
 
 A repetition of the direction, and a promise from 
 Sampson to meet them at the boat, in case they wt,re 
 not across, shortly after dark, and the scouts rode 
 down the river. 
 
 There was no chance to cover up tracks, and no 
 course but the bold one of getting to the boat and 
 crossing before their pursuers were upon them. The 
 horses were fresh, and they passed out of sight of 
 Mclntyre's plantation and down the river road, or 
 
 25* 
 
«91 WATIREN OF TEXAb'. 
 
 Fathtrf* trail- lOi it was an irregular bridle-path — in less 
 time than it takes to write. A mile down the river 
 and the path made a detour to the right, but Robert 
 deemed it wisest to keep to the river's bank till they 
 found the boat About a half mile down the creek 
 they came upon a broad, partially-flooded swamp. 
 They had to ride around it, and in doing so they 
 struck the bridle-path again. That detour cost them 
 fifteen minutes, but they tried to make it up by in- 
 creasing the speed of the already flying animals. They 
 passed a plantation and the hands coming in from 
 work stopped to gaze in wonder at the excited horse- 
 men. Beyond the plantation Robert recognized the 
 clump of trees below which Sampson told him the 
 boat was fastened. Already he began to feel safe, 
 and, dashing to the river's bank, there was the boat. 
 
 " Dismount quick, Graines ; take your rifle and start 
 back to the timber, where you can see any approach. 
 You will know Bentley or that crowd. Fire a pistol if 
 they approach. I will fire one to call you back." 
 
 Gaines sprang from his horse, and with a pale, de- 
 termined face ran back to the woods. 
 
 " Now, unsaddle, men, while I get this boat loose.'* 
 As Robert spoke he searched for the key, and at the 
 same time hurried to the frail boat. First one pocket, 
 then another. There was no key. 
 
 "Pile in the saddles while I break this lock." 
 Robert looked around for a stone, but saw none. He 
 seized a heavy stick, and as he raised it to break the 
 staple the crack of Gaines's rifle was heard, followed 
 by a wild yell, which Robert too well knew. 
 
 " Dawn, Aleck — your rifles ; follow me ! Ned, fas- 
 ten the horses, then come on '" 
 
A FIERCE ENCOUNTER. 295 
 
 Robert spoke rapidly, but acted still quicker. With 
 the light, quick bound of an Indian he rushed into 
 the woods, where Graines stood capping his rifle. He 
 bad not fired in vain, fur as the four men met a rider- 
 less horse dashed past them. 
 
 " Bentley and his gang !" said Graines. * ' I see them. 
 They ha-e halted. Keep under cover of the tree, and 
 fire coolly every chance." 
 
 The pursuers were checked for an instant, then they 
 quickly rallied, and, with pistols cocked, nine horse- 
 men dashed into the wood. Close up within one hun- 
 dred yards and n3t a shot was fired ; within fifty yards, 
 and the horseman in advance checked up for a moment 
 and fired his pistol at Ned, who was in full sight, ad- 
 vancing. It was a fatal move, for five rifles blazed in 
 in instant, and the first horse tumbled to the gi'ound 
 and the rider sprang from the animal to see three of 
 his companions stretched on the earth. 
 
 " Now, boys !" shouted Bentley — for he it was — 
 " we 've got 'em. Hurrah !" And he dashed ahead, 
 followed by his mounted comrades. 
 
 The scouts had not time to reload their rifles, but 
 drew their pistols and, springing from their cover, 
 fired at the Texans, who were upon them. Gaines 
 was but a few feet from Bentley when both men fired 
 then with the fierceness of tiger-cats they sprang upon 
 each other with drawn kr.ives. Gaines slipped and 
 went down, but little Ned saw it, and with a powerful 
 blow from hss clubbed rifle Bentley was brought to the 
 ground. The remaining Texans hurriedly sprang be- 
 hind the trees, having dismounted ; and Warren, 
 leaving the wounded Gaines on the ground, sought a 
 like shelter in the direction of the horses. But now 
 
296 WARRE]S .01 TEXAb. 
 
 a new danger assailed them. Four men, with savage 
 yells, came rujjning in from the left of the woods. 
 Robert turned to look at the enemy's re-enforcement, 
 when to his astonishment and delight he saw the leadc r, 
 a powerful man, stopping and deliberately firing on the 
 Texans. His companions were about to follow his 
 example, when the Texans called out, *'We surren- 
 der ! we surrender !" 
 
 "By the ghost of Ginral Jackson, it *s better for 
 you," said the large man, advancing. " Drop them 
 guns ! Oif with them pistols ! All right," he con- 
 tinued as the Texans obeyed. 
 
 Robert with his companions was still under cover, 
 and thinking this might be a dodge, he waited. There 
 was something in the voice of the large man that 
 sounded familiar. He peered aroimd the tree cau- 
 tiously again, then drew up, and, in a voice that rang 
 through the woods like a trumpet call, he shouted : 
 
 "Hurrah for the Union and General Jackson !" 
 
 "Hurrah for the Union and Gineral Jackson!" 
 shouted the large man, as Robert leaped from behind 
 the tree to see approaching him his old friend Ten- 
 nessee. 
 
 " Guard the prisoners !" shouted Robert to his com- 
 panions, and the next instant the powerful arms of 
 Tennessee were around him. 
 
 "Yer a livin* yet^ain't a ghost? Oh, Lor', but 
 this is grand. Oh, I 'm willin' ter go under sod now 
 any minute ! Yer sure yer alive ?" said Tennessee, 
 again feeling Robert's by no means delicate arms. 
 
 " Alive and well, thank God, Tennessee, and you 
 are ever my guardian angel. But our friend is 
 wounded ; let us help him, then talk." 
 
A VICTORY AND A SURPRISE. 297 
 
 They hurried over to Graines, who was stunned by a 
 pistol ball that struck him above the right eye, and 
 glancing passed through the fleshy part of his ear. 
 
 "Look up, ole fel," said Tennessee, taking the 
 wounded man's head in his lap and pouring water over 
 the scar from the canteen. " Yeh ain't hurt danger- 
 ous, though the cut won't improve yer beauty." 
 
 Gaines soon recovered and gazed up wonderingly 
 into the bronzed, yellow-bearded face that looked do\vn 
 on him so kindly. 
 
 " Yes, it 's me — Tennessee — ole fel. The same what 
 left yehter die on the island. I'lltellyehallbime-by.'* 
 
 As Tennessee spoke Gaines wse, and feeling his 
 wounded head, he stared again at Tennessee, then at 
 Robert, his companions, the Texajis, and the three 
 new arrivals. 
 
 " Robert, am I in my right mind? Is this Tennes- 
 see ? Are we safe ?" asked Gaines, in laughable surprise. 
 
 "Yes, Andy, we are safe, and there stands our 
 friend Tennessee," said Robert. 
 
 Gaines was not demonstrative, but he threw his arms 
 about Tennessee and said : 
 
 "Oh, my old friend, thank God; you are well and 
 here ; forgive me for ever having doubted you." 
 
 " We '11 talk all that arter awhile. Now, let 's see 
 these here wounded chaps." 
 
 Giving directions to Aleck and Ned to secure all 
 the horses, and to the old man, who was as cool as 
 the bravest during the fight, to bathe Gaines's head 
 and bind it up, Robert and Tennessee started in the 
 direction of the prostrate Texans. Reaching Bentley, 
 Tennessee stooped, put his ear to the bleeding man's 
 breast, and rising, said : 
 
298 WARRE:^ of TEXAS. 
 
 *'He 's a livin', Mr. Warren. I do n't wish him ter 
 die, fur if it wuz n't fur him I would n't be here. Here, 
 Arkansas — j'or Ingin nation — take this chap ter the 
 river an' wash his wounds ; we '11 be down thar di- 
 rectly. Long Sam, make them pris'ners stan' in a 
 pile, an' shoot the fust one budges." 
 
 Tennessee seemed by some right to have assumed 
 command. His men promptly obeyed, while he and 
 Warren examined the men lying on the ground. The 
 unerring rifles of the scouts had done their w^ork. 
 Three men lay dead beside the still struggling horse, 
 and near the farther edge of the woods, with a red 
 hole in his forehead, from which the blood slowly 
 trickled, they found the man on whom Gaines had 
 fired the alarm shot. While they were standing above 
 the body, an elderly man, very pale and very much 
 excited, appeared on the ground, and in an authorita- 
 tive tone asked : 
 
 ' ' Gentlemen, what is this fuss ? What does all this 
 shooting mean?" 
 
 "It means death," said Tennessee, pointing to the 
 dead Texans. 
 
 " My God, gentlemen, you have not surely been kill- 
 ing your friends, the southern soldiers ?" 
 
 "No, sir," said Kobert, looking the old planter in 
 the eye. "We have been fighting our enemies. We 
 are northern soldiers." 
 
 "Yes," added Tennessee, as he noticed the old 
 man's alarmed face ; " we fights fur the Union. Come 
 with me a moment." 
 
 The planter obeyed mechanically till he reached 
 the group of prisoners. "Thar, stan* thar. Long 
 Sam, do n't let this man move." 
 
LONG SAM'S WARNING. 299 
 
 " Yell kin bet yer bottom rock I '11 make movin' 
 bad work if this ole brick tries it on," said Long Sam, 
 stepping back a pace, the better to cover his prisoners. 
 
 Robert called Aleck Cameron and placed him on 
 guard with Long Sam. Then he and Tennessee went 
 to the river. Gaines was walking about with his head 
 bandaged in a yellow handkerchief, like a faded hos- 
 pital flag, and Bentley began to show evidences of an- 
 imation. Robert gave him some brandy from a pocket 
 flask he carried, which had the effect of reviving him, 
 for he groaned, opened his eyes, looking around upon 
 the people who stood near him, then closed them again. 
 
 It was now nearly dark, and after a short consulta- 
 tion it was decided to cross the river with the prison- 
 ers that night, and mature a plan of action after get- 
 ting over. One of the best horses of those captured 
 was selected for little Ned — Gaines, w^ho had seen 
 the boy's heroic action, declaring that after the war 
 he would make him a present of a whole corral of 
 mustangs, and four more reserved for Tennessee and 
 his friends. The arms, saddles, and bridles of the 
 Texans not needed were then placed in the boat, the 
 chain of which had been broken, and Aleck Cameron 
 and Arkansas scattered them about in the^creek. At 
 this juncture the faithful Sampson appeared, and Rob- 
 ert took him aside and hmTiedly explained the state 
 of affairs. lie told him he would need the boat that 
 night, and might have to sink it, and, in anticipation 
 of this, he paid Sampson. He also directed him to 
 have the negroes on the plantation near by bury the 
 dead in the morning. This Sampson promised, and 
 invoking blessings on Robert's head the old man re- 
 turned. 
 
SOO WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 All the saddles were ferried over, and then the 
 horses taken one at a time. The prisoners were crossed 
 two at a time, with two of the scouts, one rowing, the 
 other guarding. The old planter raved and expostu- 
 lated till Long Sam intimated that they invariably 
 scalped men for carrying on in that ridiculous way 
 where he came from, and that in order to keep in his 
 hand he would raise the old gentleman's hair on the 
 slightest provocation. This had a soothing effect on 
 the planter. 
 
 Back some distance from the wooded bank of the 
 river to which they had crossed, they built a fire, and 
 placed near it on their saddle blankets the wounded 
 Bentley. The blow on his head was severe, but not 
 dangerous; there was, however, a pistol-ball in his 
 right breast, close to the heart, and Tennessee shook 
 his head when he saw it, while Robert, who understood 
 the anatomy about the wound, felt that but a few 
 hours remained for the brave, misguided Texan. 
 Robert's force now consisting of nine men, he divided 
 it into four reliefs for guard duty, Ned and his grand- 
 father going on first. 
 
 As they sat by the fire on the opposite side to the 
 prisoners, Robert and Gaines begged Tennessee to 
 tell them his story, and how he came to be on hand 
 so opportunely that day. But he insisted first on 
 hearing their's^ and so Robert described the storm, 
 and the flood, and subsequent escape. Tennessee sat 
 with his hands to his face, saying at times, "It seems 
 like a dream, or a yarn, or something." Robert nar- 
 rated every incident till their meeting that evening, 
 after v/hich Tennessee insisted on shaking hands 
 
TENNESSEE'S NARRATIVE. SOl 
 
 By this time little Ned and the old man were re- 
 lieved, and Eobert introduced them regularly to Ten- 
 nessee, and asked them to come and hear his story. 
 Long Sam and Indian Nation stood guard, and Tennes- 
 see, taking a huge chew of tobacco as a suitable prelimi- 
 nary to his narrative, related in detail the incidents 
 already known to the reader up to the evening of his 
 escape. While Tennessee spoke old Dawn's eyes were 
 fastened on him with an intense and wholly unusual 
 expression. With the utmost earnestness he heard 
 him tell of his successful escape from prison, though 
 a companion was killed in the attempt ; of his journey 
 into the Cherokee country and remaining there till he 
 had to fight on one side or the other ; how he left, and 
 with Indian Nation, who was a Union man — he did n't 
 know his regular name — went to Arkansas, and had to 
 join the rebel army ; how he met Long Sam and 
 Arkansas in Price's army, and how they all deserted 
 to Tennessee, where they hoped to find the Union 
 army ; how at Memphis he enlisted with his com- 
 panions in a regiment which was in East Tennessee, 
 and how the rebels gave him transportation there. 
 Finally how he stopped at Bolivar, though out of bis 
 way, under the pretense of seeing a brother, who 
 did n't live there, and how he recognized Bentley in 
 the street as a man who sent Rose after Eobert War- 
 ren. " I longed to go fur that feller, though he's help- 
 less now," concluded Tennessee. "I saw him awful 
 worried in town, an' arter a while a vv^hole gang, more 
 than twenty, started out of town on the Shiloh road. 
 I knowed thar wuz no Yankees out thar, but some 
 trubble, an' I could n't git over follerin 'em. We all 
 four started, an' of course the critters left us away 
 26 
 
302 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 behind. We dodged the pickets an' got on the trail 
 One by one the critters gin out, but we've all chased 
 Ingins, an' yeh couldn't git us off the trail more 'n a 
 bloodhound. W^e com'd up with them fellers this 
 moniin'. They just tried the Shiloh road ten miles. 
 They ain't much on a trail. W^e waited at the cross- 
 roads, knowin' they 'd come back, an' when they did 
 we wuz arter 'em. I know'd more an' more thar wuz 
 some one I'd orter help if I foUered them men. Fine 
 critters they have, tho' played I reckon. Wall, yeh 
 know, I cum'd up durin' the fight, an' when I heerd 
 yeh, I forgot the journey an' the hunger. An' now. Cap., 
 we 're heah safe an' sound." 
 
 "Yes, Tennessee, and hungry," said Robert, open- 
 ing his saddle-bags and handing out the plentiful 
 supply of provisions which the generous and thought- 
 ful Sampson had stuffed into the saddle-bags at the last 
 moment. 
 
CHAPTEE XXVIII 
 
 FATHER AND SON. 
 
 During Tennessee's narrative old Dawn graduall} 
 drew nearer to the speaker, and his face assumed by 
 degrees an intense earnestness and interest that even 
 the thrilling story would not warrant. In truth, he 
 did not hear the story, though the strong, deep voice 
 thrilled the old man like the airs of his youth just 
 called to mind, and with wondering eyes he gazed 
 from the fire to the powerful, flexible form of the hun- 
 ter, as if trying to reconcile some changes, or solve 
 some mystery that troubled his own mind. 
 
 Tennessee stopped speaking, and after going to 
 where Bentley lay, and making some changes in his 
 position to ease his pain, he walked back, and, pulling 
 out his tobacco-pouch as he sat down, he said to the 
 old man : 
 
 " Smoke with me, frien* ? It 's no pleasure to smoke 
 alone by a camp-fire." 
 
 " Sartia, stranger, sartin," said the old man, looking 
 earnestly into the good-natured blue eyes of Tennes- 
 see, and mechanically reaching out his hand for the 
 tobacco. 
 
 " Stranger," again the old man spoke, after light- 
 ing his pipe, "yeh've lived in Texas right smart, I 
 reckon ?" 
 
804 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 *' Yes, ole man ; I 've been thar purty much since 
 I wuz a boy, an' I knows 'bout as much of that ar' 
 country as mos' men." 
 
 ** Yeh knows lots of folks thar, I 'm sure?" and as 
 the old man spoke he edged closer to where Tennes- 
 see sat. 
 
 " No, frien', I am't much at gittin' 'quainted ; but 
 I knows a few, I reckon," said Tennessee, blowing out 
 a cloud of smoke and good-naturedly preparing him- 
 self to answer the old man's questions as long as he 
 wished to ask them. 
 
 The old man sat looking at the fire for some time. 
 His pipe had gone out and was held between his 
 clasped hands. After a few minutes, without looking 
 up, he began, as if speaking to himself: 
 
 " Stranger, I had a boy once — my eldest — and a 
 long time ago he went to Texas. It hurt me a heap 
 to have him leave me, for he wuz right smart help, 
 an' they did n't git up boys with any kinder or braver 
 hearts than mine. But I let him go, fur I had others 
 a comin' on, an' I know'd my boy 'd come back if he 
 ever larned I wuz pushed. Wall, the war come, an' 
 the rebels killed all but little Ned ; he 's Ned's boy. 
 It 's right hard fur an old man, but of late I keep 
 thinkin' that Sim '11 turn up. It'd take off all the 
 load if I could see Jim agin." 
 
 The old man looked up. Tennessee was standing 
 beside him. He met the old man's gaze, and his heart 
 leaped to his mouth, A haze came over his eyes as 
 with outstretched arms he knelt beside his father, and 
 clasping him to his broad breast he said, in a low, 
 tremulous voice : 
 
 ** Look at me, dad ; I 'm Jim. I 'm yer boy." 
 
AN IMPKESSIVE REUNION. 806 
 
 The old man pushed back the heavy masses of sun- 
 burned, fair hair from Tennessee's white forehead and 
 Baid: 
 
 " Thank God for this, Jim. Thank God thar 's one 
 left besides little Ned. My heart felt warm fur yeh 
 from the first, an' I hoped yeh wuz my boy." 
 
 The father and son sat down together, and the wit- 
 nesses of their meeting felt the joy they could not 
 then speak. Tennessee pulled little Ned over on his 
 knee, and looking into his bright, youthful face, said : 
 
 " So, you 're Ned's boy. Wall, now, who 'd 'a thought 
 it? My face was as smooth as yours whin I left Ten- 
 nessee, an' I reckon I looked right smart as you do. 
 I wuz n't bad lookin' then by a long chalk— was I 
 dadr 
 
 ** No, Jim, you wuz allers likely," said the old man, 
 looking with pride at the bearded face of his giant 
 boy. 
 
 "Mr. Warren, the Dawns is purty heavy for Ginral 
 Jackson, do n't yeh think?" 
 
 "I certainly do, Tennessee," replied Robert, who 
 went on to relate how he met his father and little Ned 
 that dark night near Crab Orchard, and how the boy 
 was wounded. 
 
 " Wall, it 's all right now. But this war has brought 
 some things roun' cur'us. 'Pears like a dream since I 
 follered yeh out the Shreveport road with that houn' 
 Eose." 
 
 As Tennessee spoke, Gaines ordered the next de- 
 tail for guard, and the old man insisted on going on 
 again with Tennessee, offering as an excuse that he 
 would *'feel kinder lonesome ef he wuz n't near Jim." 
 
 The night wore on, and Bentley sank into a quiet 
 26* 
 
806 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 sleep. About four o'clock he roused himself, and 
 looking up at Robert, who was sitting beside him, ho 
 asked : 
 
 "Have I been dreaming, Bob? Have I said any- 
 thing?" 
 
 "No; I have been sitting here, and you slept 
 quietly." 
 
 ** Bob, I 've led a pretty wild life. It's nearly 
 ended though," and Bentley laid his hand on the 
 wound, from which the blood still slowly oozed 
 through the bandages. 
 
 " I have no reason to love you, Bentley ; but I 
 believe you brave and honest, and I hope you will 
 live to return to your people, and, after the war, to 
 Texas." 
 
 Robert stooped and wiped the wounded man's 
 damp forehead and gave him another sip of brandy. 
 
 *' Bob, I can 't live, and before I die I want to tell 
 you all. I want to tell you that I objected to keep- 
 ing your father in prison, and it hurt me worse than 
 this wound when he died." 
 
 "My Grod! my father dead! Bid you say my 
 father was dead?" said Robert, in a voice of agony 
 and passion, as he laid his hand on the wounded man 
 and shook him for a reply. 
 
 Bentley did not reply. He made an effort as if to 
 speak, then his face grew deathly pale, and a itin, 
 bloody foam gathered about his lips. He had fainted. 
 
 Robert was half prepared for this terrible informa- 
 tion, still it cut him to the heart. Tennessee hastened 
 to his side, and placing his ear to Bentley's heart, he 
 said hurriedly, " Give him more brandy, Mr. Warren, 
 I*m afeard he 's dyin' !" 
 
ROBERT'S LOSS. «07 
 
 Kobert raised Bentley's head, stooping so as t^ 
 take it in his lap, and poured the brandy slowly be- 
 tween his cold, bloody lips. 
 
 Tennessee in the meantime tightened the bandages 
 and stopped the blood. 
 
 " Yeh mus n't rile this chap, Mr, Warren ; he 's 
 purty near gone. Ef he was n't as strong as a boss 
 he 'd a died when he was fust hit. Thar, he 's comin* 
 to. Let him rest a bit." 
 
 Robert adjusted the blankets and walked away. It 
 was very dark, and the prisoners near the fire slept 
 like children, little Ned lying with his arm thrown 
 over one stalwart fellow's breast. 
 
 " Oh, God ! this agony ; this war is horrible !" said 
 Robert, as he buttoned closer his coat and walked 
 into the darkness, where the dying fire at times lit up 
 the great, leafless trees and threw out shadows that 
 w^ere lost in the blackness beyond. As he stood 
 musing Gaines came up and said : 
 
 " Robert, I am sorry to hear of your trouble.'* 
 
 " I know you are, Andy, I Imow you are," and 
 Robert laid his hand kindly on the shoulder of his 
 friend. 
 
 " This is no place nor time, Robert, to give way to 
 grief. Sometimes I have been so dejected that T 
 envied those who slept in the grave without heart- 
 aches. But God has given us vrork to do. Let us 
 bear manfully every trial He casts upon us." 
 
 " You are right, Andy ; but I could not help this 
 sadness. You know how intensely I loved my father, 
 and how, dming our arduous duties, I have looked 
 forward to the time when I could tell him all, as we 
 sat together in the old home, and war with us was a 
 
308 V7AKKEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 thing of tlie past. But I will bear it. Come, let us 
 see poor Bentley ; I fear he cannot live long." 
 
 They walked back to where Bentley lay, and sat 
 down beside hira. He tui'ned at the noise and whis- 
 pered, as he tried to hold out his hand : 
 
 "Bob, do you hate me?" 
 
 ** No, God knows I do not. I would suffer much 
 to give you life," said Robert earnestly, as he took 
 the cold and once powerful hand In his. 
 
 " Bob — and you, Andy — I want you to forgive me. 
 I judged you wrong. I know now, what I thought 
 then, Townsend lied." 
 
 Bentley stopped, for the talking pained him. 
 
 " I forgive you, from my soul, for whatever you 
 have done to me," said Gaines, in a choking voice. 
 
 " And I too, Bentley," said Robert. " I never 
 could think you guilty of an intentional meanness. 
 You were always too brave and honest." 
 
 " Yes," inten'upted Bentley, with failingbreath,*' God 
 knows I am honest. Bob, and always meant to do right." 
 
 " You knew me, Bentley, and you knew Townsend. 
 I am sure it was only the excitement of the election 
 that induced you to think that I could be a murderer 
 or a robber." 
 
 *' Yes, Bob, but the excitement 's past. I am going 
 dovrn. I can hear the water. The river is close at 
 hand, and I 'm moving out," 
 
 Bentley closed his eyes and lay still for a few mo- 
 ments. Then he roused himself as with an effort. 
 
 " Bob, call my men — all that are left." 
 
 Robert woke up the prisoners and brought them 
 over to where Bentley lay. He motioned them to 
 Etoop, then shook hands with each. 
 
DEATH OF BENTLEY. 309 
 
 " Boys, you 've always done your duty. I hope 
 you '11 get back to do it again. I 've fought with you 
 for the last time, but God will give victory to the 
 right. You are prisoners. If Bob Warren lets you 
 go, do what he may ask ; it will be for your good and 
 his. Take my last love to all." 
 
 Those bronzed Texans were unused to emotion. 
 They looked too strong and coarse to be capable of 
 much feeling, but as Bentley ceased speaking their 
 eyes were moist with the tears they could not choke 
 down, and each clasped the cold hand of the com- 
 mander th^y loved, promising to obey his last order. 
 
 " Is the sun up ? It feels warmer." 
 
 " No, Bentley, but the day is breaking," said Robert. 
 
 " Yes, I see the light, the light, and my mother, 
 my mother, my mother " 
 
 His voice gradually sank, and at the last word, 
 ** mother," his clasp of Robert's hand relaxed, the 
 dying fire in his eyes went out, his head fell back, 
 and Bentley, the brare and misguided, was dead. 
 
 The sun came up bright and warm. The early 
 spring birds flew through the budding trees, and at 
 times a bee buzzed by in search of the first sweet 
 flowers. A large live oak, with branches drooping to 
 the ground, grew near the camp, beside the river. 
 Here they scooped a grave with their knives deep 
 between the gnarled roots, and, ^Tapping the young 
 Texan in his blanket, they lowered him down and 
 placed his sword and pislols on his breast. Then they 
 threw back the" earth, while Robert carved in the 
 bark, " Bentley, bravest of the Rangers, killed March, 
 1862." 
 
 " Saddle up your horses, men, we must start at 
 
310 -W^ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 once," said' Robert, walking in the direction of the 
 prisoners. ' ' I will find it difHcult to take you through 
 to the Union lines with me, and still more difficult to 
 let you go,'* said Robert, addressing the R.angers. 
 " You promised Bentley just before he died that you 
 would do as I desired for your own good. Do you 
 still stand by that promise ?' ' 
 
 The Texans signified their willingness to do what- 
 ever Robert desired consistent with their duty as 
 Confederates. 
 
 " I am satisfied with your promise. I will parole 
 you at once, on condition that you do not report to 
 the Confederate army inside of twenty-four hours. 
 This I must demand in order to prevent pursuit. 
 "What say you?" 
 
 The Texans agreed to this, and Robert prepared 
 and took each man's parole. 
 
 " I wish you to take this note to Colonel Wharton 
 for me ; it will explain all about your capture and 
 Bentley's death. I have given you the credit which 
 as brave men you deserve. Now, good-bye, and I 
 hope when again we meet it may be as friends." 
 
 The prisoners shook hands all round with their 
 captors, and as the scouts rode eastward through the 
 woods the Rangers took an opposite course up White 
 Oak Creek. 
 
CHAPTEE XXIX. 
 
 SHILOH. 
 
 Tlie evening following that on which Robert War- 
 ren and his men left White Oak Creek they learned 
 that the Union Army under Grant had moved up on 
 transports to Pittsburg Landing, on the Tennessee. 
 General Buell was still behind, in the direction of 
 Danville, with a large force. Deeming the informa- 
 tion he possessed to be of immediate advantage to 
 General Grant, who was only twenty miles from Cor- 
 inth, where Beauregard was gathering the flower of 
 the Mississippi valley to cnish out the Northern amiy 
 in Tennessee, Robert determined to push on in that 
 direction at once. On the following day he reported 
 in person, and received the praise of " the silent sol- 
 dier " for his invaluable service. His regiment v/as 
 back with Nelson, and General Grant, who seemed to 
 be thoroughly posted about the neighboring country, 
 ordered him with his companions to report to General 
 W. H. L. Wallace till General Nelson, who was daily 
 expected, came up. 
 
 Robert had Tennessee and his friends mustered into 
 the service and assigned to Captain Allen Warren's 
 company. For nearly a week they lay quietly in en- 
 campment between Shiloh Church and Snake Creek, 
 two miles south of the three houses dignified by the 
 name of "Pittsburg Landing." The country was 
 
812 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 wiul, iindalatiag, and wooded; the scattering farm- 
 houses were of the rude kind peculiar to first settle- 
 ments. With the exception of an occasional thunder- 
 storm, the weather was delightful, and the swelling 
 buds and fresh green carpet of grass, with wild-flower 
 patterns and myriads of vocal birds, made a picture 
 of beauty and peace with which the circling line of 
 camps and martial dwellers seemed out of harmony. 
 Surely General Grant did not appreciate the strength, 
 daring, and cunning of the Confederates at Corinth, 
 or, if he did, he had a more than soldier's confidence 
 in the conquerors of Donelson, his mighty Western 
 men. No fortifications, breastworks, or abbattis were 
 thrown up in a section peculiarly adapted to them, 
 and where half the country was densely timbered. 
 No cavalry force far in the advance to apprise him of 
 danger from the direction of Corinth. But in a solid 
 semi-circle, somewhat advanced by Prentiss on the 
 left center, near the Corinth road. General Grant held 
 his army, with a deep, unfordable river flowing directly 
 in his rear. Defeat in such a place would bring on 
 him the censure of the world and the execration of 
 his countrymen. But the iron will and cool hand of 
 the general were equal to any emergency, and at 
 Shiloh it seemed as if he increased the danger, just 
 once in his life, to show what he could do when all 
 seemed lost. 
 
 The evening of April 5th came bright and pleasanter 
 for the recent rains. Around from Lick Creek to 
 Pittsburg Landing the white tents of Hurlburt, Prentiss, 
 Sherman, McClerland, and Smith caught the red rays 
 of the setting sun, and looked like opal jewels in the 
 vast setting of dark green. From a point eight miles 
 
BEFORE THE BATTLE. 315 
 
 fui'ther down the river the blue smoke curled up 
 peacefully from the camp-fires of Lew Wallace, and 
 before the landing two gunboats swung lazily at an- 
 chor. Parade and inspection were over and the de- 
 tails made. Around a thousand camp-fires the soldiers 
 were busy with the evening meal, and jest and laugh- 
 ter rang jovial volleys through the woods. Here and 
 there on the low bushes the lately-washed clothes 
 were left to dry. The horses champed their grain 
 near the wagons, the batteries, and headquarters as 
 contentedly as if just in from the carriage or the plow. 
 Groups of officers in undress gathered to smoke and 
 chat, while from along the line for miles the music 
 of the regimental bands came in swelling notes to the 
 river. The flags before the different headquarters 
 were taken down, the sunlight blended into gray, the 
 gray into darkness, with the brightest of stars, and the 
 camp-fires shone warmly on beaming, sunburned faces, 
 and lit up the green trees with a marvelous beauty. 
 Songs associated with home came from knots about 
 the bivouacs, while here and there the company wit 
 kept his comrades in a roar by his amusing narration 
 of his own adventures. Nine o'clock came, and from 
 right to left the brazen throats of the bugle sounded 
 *' Taps." Quickly the fires became deserted, the 
 laughter and song and story died out, and the white 
 tents were filled with forty thousand sleeping men, 
 silent as a city of the dead. So passed the quiet 
 hours, the soft, mossy earth refusing sound to the feet 
 of the watchful sentinel — quiet as the grave in which* 
 when another night comes, hundreds of the resting 
 soldiers will be gathered for the last long sleep. At 
 times the reliefs pass rapidly from post to post, the 
 27 
 
314 "WAEREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 challenge ringing out like an intruder on the stillness ; 
 this and the gallop of the grand rounds, with jingling 
 spurs and clashing sabers and startling demands froni 
 the cover of somber trees of " Halt ! who goes there ? '* 
 then all is calm and quiet, as if war never were. 
 
 Four o'clock came, and the stars grew less distinct 
 in the blending of gray that told the dawn of April 6 
 had come. Along the extended line the sound of the 
 reveille ran through the Union camp, and forty thou- 
 sand men rose from their blankets at the call. But 
 blending with the bugle call came the wild cries of 
 flying men, the exultant yells of a pursuing foe, the 
 boom of artillery, and the rattle and roar of musketry. 
 A hundred drums drowned for the time the sound of 
 battle as in one horrid din they rattled through the 
 camps, one hour ago so peaceful, that summons to 
 battle, the " long roll." Half-dressed men seized 
 their arms and frantically rushed 'nto line. From the 
 left frightened men came pouring back, adding to the 
 confusion, and by their wild cries demoralizing the 
 half- formed regiments. " Prentiss is cut to pieces !" 
 *'Back to the river!" "My God, we are ruined!" 
 These and a hundred other evidences of defeat greeted 
 Hurlbm-t and Hildebrand. Nor was this all. On the 
 ver^ heels of the flying Union soldiers long gray lines, 
 in magnificent order of battle, poured through the 
 woods, and with a force irresistible as the ocean's 
 waves they struck the first division and dashed it into 
 bleeding fragments. In vain did Sherman try to 
 gather his command ; the tide of battle struck him, 
 and hundreds of Jiis half-dressed men perished in their 
 tents or grasping the arms they had not time to use. 
 General W. H. L. Wallace, with whom were our 
 
THE DISASTROUS FIRST DAY. 315 
 
 friends, rallied, but not in time to stem the torrent. 
 By ten o' clock the rebels held the Union camp, Pren- 
 tiss's division was literally smashed to pieces, and 
 eight thousand cowed, demoralized men, in the very 
 agony of fear, sought the protection of the river's 
 bank, and added to the terror and confusion by their 
 cries of distress. Sherman, with a daring that would 
 be called reckless, were it not for the coolness and 
 skill of his action, dashed along his broken brigades 
 and re-formed them. Taylor, Waterhouse, and Beer 
 he placed in position with their batteries on McCler- 
 nand's left, and here for the time was the most des- 
 perate fighting and terrific carnage. Tliough shot 
 through the hand, and the blood dripping from his 
 long fingers, he worked like a Trojan to remedy the 
 evils of his unfortified position. Around the left and 
 center the battle surged, the enemy neglecting the 
 right, which Lew Wallace, eight miles off, was har- 
 rying up to protect. Their plan seemed to be to 
 double the line from the left back upon itself and 
 sweep it clear to the river, beyond which resistance 
 would be useless. Hurlburt and W. H. L. Wallace, 
 though shattered from the first stmming blow, had 
 with them the flower of Kentucky, Ohio, Illinois, In- 
 diana, and Iowa. Below a number of open fields, 
 v/ithin sight of their camps, now held by the enemy, 
 they re-formed. Here Beam^egard commanded in 
 person, and three times he hurled division after divi- 
 sion upon the thin blue lines in front. But there 
 Hurlburt and Wallace held their ground, strewing the 
 smoking earth with dead each time the enemy charged. 
 For fi.ve hours and a half the left was thus held, till at 
 length, under a murderous fire of artillery, this noble 
 
S16 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 division fell back within sight of the river, where the 
 wooden gunboats Tyler and Lexington were firing shells 
 over the Union line into the ranks of the enemy. 
 They fell back, bearing with them the dying General 
 Wallace, whose men were the last to yield before the 
 overpowering force of the enemy. 
 
 By five in the afternoon Grant's whole army was 
 crowded around the Landing, and a circle of three 
 quarters of a mile would inclose all his troops. Lew 
 Wallace, who ought to have been up, lost time by a 
 mistake, and was still far to the right, beyond Snake 
 Creek. Still from the outer line of the circle, where 
 companies, regiments, brigades, and divisions were 
 blended without distinction, the fires of death blazed, 
 and men fell by hundreds where so few could be spared. 
 By half-past five there were not fifteen thousand men 
 in the Union lines. Out of the grand army of the pre- 
 vious night five thousand were prisoners, eight thou- 
 sand dead or wounded in the woods and camps which 
 the enemy held, and as many were demoralized and 
 unorganized along the river's bank. The enemy had 
 captured a dozen battle-flags and thirty pieces of ar- 
 tillery, which our army could not afford to lose in any 
 circiunstances. At this time the firing slackened, and a 
 tall horseman within full sight of the Union lines rode 
 along the enemy's front, forming his columns for one 
 grand, fuial charge, which was to sweep out the Yankee 
 army south of the Tennessee. Wherever he went 
 he was cheered vociferously, and an old soldier who 
 stood, musket in hand, near Robert Warren, said : 
 " That's the damned traitor Albert Sidney Johnston." 
 In the mean time Grant, with his staff, occupied the 
 Union center, near the Landing. He was cvidentW 
 
THE ENEMY REPULSED. 317 
 
 as cool as if there bad been no battle. Webster was 
 there preparing his artillery for the struggle, and the 
 firm, compressed lips of the men along the line showed 
 the determination with which the foe would be met. 
 Only a few minutes of painful anxiety, during which 
 the men gazed at the forming foe, then back at the 
 black river, praying, as Wellmgton is said to have 
 prayed at Waterloo, that the sun would go down or 
 re-enforcements come up. Lew Wallace and Euell 
 were needed now if ever. Yet there was no help 
 from them, and the men grasped more Jirmly their 
 weapons and looked up for aid. The rebel lines closed 
 up, then suddenly from forty pieces of artillery they 
 poured in a murderous fire on the devoted band of 
 Union heroes, and a storm of musket-balls came driv^ 
 ing like hail from the line of twenty thousand men. 
 J'here was but the show of a reply to this deluge of 
 shot and shell. Then came on in splendid array, with 
 hats slouched and pieces trailed, the divisions of 
 Hardee and Polk, with Breckinridge's brigade. It 
 was the last chance for Grant. His infantry fire was 
 reserved till a pistol ball would kill a man in the fore- 
 most line of the enemy. Then began the very har- 
 vest of death. Infantry, batteries, and gunboats, 
 with the rapidity of lightning and accuracy of fate, 
 hurled out a storm of missiles before which the first 
 rank melted and those behind faltered and were 
 broken. Each man in the Union line felt the fate of 
 the Army depended on him, and as the sun went down 
 behind the black clouds a cheer of triumph rang out 
 from Pittsburg Landing ; the enemy's last desperate 
 charged was repulsed, and from the southern bank of the 
 river came the shouts from Bueli's cavalry advance. 
 
 27* 
 
S18 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The night of that fearful Sabbath came to the 
 valley over which hung the shadow of death. No 
 rest for the starving, wearied men, who lay on their 
 arms and " anxiously thought of the morrow." The 
 enemy were reveling in the captured camps, and the 
 wounded were uncared for ; still through the night the 
 stragglers were reorganized, and Lew Wallace joined 
 his division close up to the right. During the black 
 hours the steamers were busy passing back and forth, 
 while regiments left their decks and took position in 
 the extended lines. All w^as quiet as the previous 
 night, but how different ! Occasionally a screeching 
 shell from the gunboats flew over the Union ranks, 
 while, as if in mockery of the battle sounds, '* the 
 thunder drums of heaven" rolled and rattled, and 
 the battle-field was drenched with rain. 
 
 Monday morning, the 7th, came, and thirty thousand 
 fresh men were ready to confront the victorious foe. 
 On the ground held by the noble Wallace, Nelson 
 placed his gallant brigade. To his right came Crit- 
 tenden, then McCook, Hurlburt, McClernand and 
 Sherman. Divided among the latter two divisions 
 were the remnants of Wallace and Prentiss's com- 
 mands, and on the extreme right was stationed Lew 
 Wallace's fighting division. It was noticeable that in 
 all these divisions there was but one regiment from 
 east of the Ohio line, viz., the gallant Seventy-seventh 
 Pennsylvania, under the command of Colonel Stam- 
 baugh. 
 
 It was past seven in themoraing when Lew Wallace 
 began the battle by a brisk artillery fire, to which the 
 enemy was not slow to respond. Gradually tlie thun- 
 der spread along the line, till Nelson took it up, and 
 
THE VICTORIOUS SECOND DAY. 319 
 
 advancing his command beyond Hm-lburt's old camp^ 
 he met the enemy, who evidently intended to try the 
 crushing-out-in-detail process practiced so suc- 
 cessfully the day before. They massed and charged 
 Nelson, but it was to find themselves mowed 
 down by Terrell's howitzers, and harassed by Jack- 
 son's cavalry. Westward the rebel line surged 
 and struck Crittenden, punishing Smith's brigade, 
 but the success was short-lived, for Boyle and 
 Woods rushed to the rescue and hurled back the 
 astonished foe, capturing a battery of their artillery. 
 Still west the rebels struck, till McCook checked them 
 in their desperate efforts to capture an Illinois bat- 
 tery, around which the Sixth Indiana fought like bull- 
 dogs. Then Rousseau, McClemand, and Hurlburt, 
 the latter with jaded but still able men, pushed for- 
 ward toward the old camps, driving back Bragg in 
 confusion, and sending their shouts of victory west- 
 ward to Wallace and Sherman. The enemy was tired 
 of the assaults that cost him so fearfully, and about 
 noon began a terrific fire, which was simply a mask 
 for his retreat. To the left, where Nelson fought, the 
 rebels had been working a battery, captured the pre- 
 vious day, with murderous efiect. As Nelson ad- 
 vanced, Jackson's cavalry was ordered up a ravine to 
 take the battery in flank. Robert Warren with his 
 men had reported to their company the previous night, 
 when it came up with Buell, and though they had 
 fought bravely in the confused ranks of yesterday's 
 battle, all felt better in the saddle with their own reg- 
 iment. Up the ravine, rough and rugged, the regi- 
 ment pushed, and under a galling fire they ascended 
 the side within two hundred vards of the battery, 
 
820 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 which was well supported. Quickly, while the regi- 
 ment was forming, a section wheeled to oppose them. 
 Then the sahers leaped along the line, and the bugle 
 sounded the *' charge," which the men shouted as their 
 horses leaped forward to obey the summons. The 
 artillery opened, ploughing gaps in the double line of 
 crowding horses, while the infantry poured in a fire be- 
 fore which many a saddle was emptied, and many a 
 gallant steed fell suddenly when half the distance had 
 been gone over, Don leaped ahead of the line as if 
 in a furious race. Robert in the stirmps, his sword 
 hanging to his wrist by the knot, with all his force 
 jerked the bridle to stop the frantic animal. The bit 
 broke in the effort, and the uncontrolled horse, with 
 the bit dangling at his ears, swept down toward the 
 rebel guns. To jump off would be to be killed by 
 the advancing line, which now cheered wildly. To gc 
 on was certain death. All occurred in an instant. 
 Robert grasped his sword, cheered back to the ad- 
 vancing line, and with one lightning thought of home 
 and loved ones, he went straight as an arrow for the guns, 
 behind which a soldier, blackened with smoke, stood 
 with a lanyard in his hand. A moment of flame and 
 smoke, then a flying leap across the gun, and Robert 
 Warren, on the plunging, unmanageable Don, was slash- 
 ing with his saber like an enraged giant among gunners, 
 battery, horses, and infantry. A few secords and the 
 whole line rushed over the gims with deafening cheers, 
 and the infantry supporting turned and fled without 
 order. The cheer from the left went westward, and the 
 whole line advanced over the old camping ground, 
 throush the tents filled vrith wounded, and close be- 
 hind the routed enemy, who left his dead and wounded 
 
THE CROWNING TRIUMPH. 821 
 
 on the field. Thus, after thirty-eight hours of the 
 most terrible fighting ever witnessed before on the 
 continent, victory was snatched by valor from the 
 jaws of defeat, and the flags of the Union were pushed 
 by patriots still further South. 
 
CHAPTER XXX, 
 
 THE IDEAL BATTLE. 
 
 There is a fascination in the stories of battle that 
 thrills one — the long, gleaming lines of steel ; the 
 death-dealing batteries ; the fiery, restless horses ; the 
 waving flags and standards, and, ringing above all 
 sounds the trumpet's brazen call, or the martial airs 
 of the bands. We read of the sweeping charges of 
 masses of horsemen, with flashing swords and terrify- 
 ing cheers, and our hearts throb as we picture the op- 
 posing hollow squares of infantry receiving the charge 
 with kneeling lines of bayonets and a storm of deadly 
 fire. In the old stories that captivated us there was 
 a mathematical accuracy in the movements described. 
 Regiments were always organized, batteries always 
 working with fine precision in the right place, and the 
 cavalry were held to be pushed forward at the moment 
 of the enemy's weakness ; murderous storms of lead ; 
 irresistible charges, where swords and bayonets 
 clashed, and standards rose and fell above the din and 
 smoke and tumult; electrifying commands from well- 
 loved leaders, and dying cheers from bleeding heroes ; 
 band-men to care for the wounded ; hospitals ready 
 to receive them ; and a general idea pervading all that 
 every movement was in accordance with a previously- 
 arranged plan by the great genius commanding — all 
 these went to make up our notions of a battle. To 
 
THE REAL BATTLE. 323 
 
 some extent these pictures, as applied to European 
 conflicts, were correct, but they were wholly inappli- 
 cable to any fight during the late American war. As 
 at Shiloh, so in a hundred other fights. Long, opposing 
 lines of infantry and artillery at varying distances, 
 stretching over fields and through woods, poured 
 deadly volleys of shot and shell into the confronting 
 lines. Here a company of skirmishers, feeling the 
 uncertain front; there a regiment or brigade dash- 
 ing forward to break the opposing line. But, as a 
 rute, it was one whirlwind of fire, before which com- 
 panies and regiments melted. The individuality of 
 the soldier was never lost. Groups of broken organi- 
 zations rallied to fight on their own responsibility. 
 Men sprang out of line to aid a falling comrade or 
 secure a wounded officer. There was one rallying 
 point in moments of defeat, where the men gathered 
 with determined faces : the center of the regiment, 
 where the colors were held above the smoke, and 
 guarded with a desperate valor, even whea the battle 
 was felt to be lost. To the rear of the lines of battle 
 the wounded who could walk usually hobbled or 
 staggered back, trying as they moved to stop the 
 bleeding till they could reach the field hospital of 
 their command. As at Shiloh, we had but few pursuits 
 after a conflict, for there were but few decisive battles. 
 Each side fought with a desperate determination, and 
 the close of an engagement saw both sides too much 
 exhausted for a long retreat or a vigorous pursuit. 
 But on the field there was all the suffering and car- 
 nage which gave the red color to the old battle pic- 
 tures. The dead, here in piles where they fell about 
 the colors or in defense of a battery ; there in irregu- 
 
324 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 lar lines where they dropped in the ranks ; in the ad- 
 vance a bhie coat or a gray, sprinkled where they fell 
 on the skirmish line ; in every attitude — one grasp- 
 ing his gun, with his face to the foe, and his strong 
 breast torn by the exploded shell ; another lying on 
 his back, with open mouth and purple face, and a 
 small, red hole through his throat ; a boy, resting his 
 fair head on his bent arm, as if asleep, while the blood 
 in a black pool shone below his white forehead ; a 
 strong, heavily-bearded man, sitting against a tree 
 which a cannon shot had struck, while his torn, crushed 
 limbs are gathered up under him, and fragments of 
 w^hite bone stick through the red flesh and blue pants ; 
 a horse, with the ground torn about him, marking the 
 agony of his death-struggle, while the extended neck 
 and head are clotted with blood ; a group of horses, 
 dead near some broken cannon, harness tangled and 
 torn, and a great, black hole in the ground, and pieces 
 of charred wood lying about, telling that a caisson 
 had exploded there ; a horse and a rider dead side 
 by side, one of the soldier's feet still fast in the stir- 
 rup, and his sword broken in the fall ; a pool of dirty 
 water, with a circle of dead and wounded, friend and 
 foe, gathered about it. These are the silent horrors of 
 the field. Who can portray the suffering of the 
 wounded, the groans and cries of distress, the api^eals 
 for aid, the prayers for death to come in relief, the 
 parched lips and swollen tongues begging far water ; 
 the shattered arms and mangled limbs, bandaged 
 with torn clothes, or the bleeding stayed by conv 
 pressed belts ? On the field, when the fight has closed, 
 there are no foes, and a common himianity and com- 
 mon suffering blot out the late anger and revenge, 
 
PROMOTION AHEAD. 325 
 
 and mercy for the time takes possession of the field 
 of strife. 
 
 With Albert Sidney Johnston killed, and eleven 
 thousand dead and wounded in the hands of the 
 Union forces, and the great object of the battle un- 
 accomplished, the Confederates fell slowly back to 
 Corinth, for the time broked and dispirited. A short 
 pursuit by General Sherman resulted in the capture 
 of a large number of stragglers, but three days elapsed 
 before Grant's shattered army was ready to obey 
 Halleck's order for an investment of Corinth. 
 
 A few days after the battle Robert, who was again 
 with his company, much to Archy's delight, received 
 a note from Colonel Jackson, asking him to come at 
 once to his tent. Supposing there was more scouting 
 prepared for him, he reported immediately to the 
 colonel, who received him with great warmth of man- 
 ner, and without the stiff etiquette peculiar to strict 
 military business. 
 
 ' ' Wan-en, I must congratulate you," said the colo- 
 nel ; " that affair at Shiloh on Monday has made you 
 famous." 
 
 "I am truly sorry to hear it, colonel ; for, as I told 
 you before, it was the merest accident, and I am not 
 entitled to the praise I have received from you and 
 my comrades." 
 
 '' We are the best judges of that, my dear fellow. 
 I wish to tell you that E Company is without a com- 
 missioned officer, and I have sent in your name for 
 the captaincy. This meets the approval of General 
 Nelson, whom by the way we must go and see at 
 once." As the colonel spoke he put on his hat and 
 belt, and left the tent with Robert. General Nelson 
 28 
 
326 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 was a huge burly man, looking more like a retired 
 English sea captain than an American soldier. His 
 face was florid, his manner brusque and at times 
 apparently rude ; yet he had the kindest and bravest 
 of hearts, and under his rough exterior he cari'ied 
 the most genial of dispositions. 
 
 " Hello, Jackson ! glad to see you ; come in, come 
 in ! Here, damn you," to the black servant, " get 
 stools for the gentlemen. There, be seated." 
 
 G-eneral Nelson thus addressed Colonel Jackson 
 and his companion as they entered his tent. 
 
 "This is Mr. Warren, general, the young man 
 who led the charge on the battery in front of your 
 division." 
 
 " The devil you say ! Why, Warren, give me your 
 hand. Bravest thing I ever sa\7 in my life. As- 
 tounded those battery -men. Here, Piper, the whisky. 
 Must drink Captain Warren's health." 
 
 * ' I am very thankful for your kindness, general, but 
 it is due to the regiment to say that I do not deserve 
 it. My bit broke early in the charge, and I lost all 
 control of my horse, a very spirited animal. Of 
 course there was nothing left but to ride for the battery.'* 
 
 As Kobert said this his face grew a deeper bronze 
 and he looked down at his boots. 
 
 " Why the devil didn't you jump off, then, when 
 your horse got so far ahead?" asked the general with 
 a chuckling laugh. 
 
 '•In truth T did think about it," replied Robert, 
 "but I made up my mind that it was death in any 
 event, so I preferred dying at the hands of the enemy." 
 
 "By the Gods of war, sir, you 're a brick ! You did 
 just right. Here, your health, Captain Warren." 
 
CAPTAIN ROBERT WARREN. 327 
 
 The .general passed the glasses, and all drank. 
 
 '*I have learned your history, captain, and let me 
 say I respect you — yes, sir, I respect you. To-night I 
 v/ill see General Buell, and I think we can fix you all 
 right." 
 
 At these compliments Robert blushed more deeply, 
 and got so confused that he could only stammer out 
 his thanks. The general saw this and changed the 
 conversation, and Robert declared as he left the tent 
 with Colonel Jackson that he never met a more 
 delightful man in his life. To which the colonel 
 replied : 
 
 ''There are a great many opinions about General 
 Nelson as a gentleman, but only one as to his patriot- 
 ism and bravery." 
 
 The news of Robert's promotion spread through the 
 camp like wildfire, and earnest congratulations poured 
 in from all sides. His cousin Allen, however, was 
 deeply affected, and held Robert's hand for a long 
 time as he expressed his satisfaction at his being an 
 officer. 
 
 That night, as they sat at supper, they were both 
 struck and amused by the expression of undisguised 
 delight on Archy's face. That very respectable fel- 
 low was acting as if he had partaken largely of laugh- 
 ing-gas, with the happiest possible effect. He laughed 
 at every plate and knife he placed. He chuckled and 
 laughed at the frying meat and roasting sweet pota- 
 toes. He smiled serenely at every passing form. At 
 times he would stand twisting his canvas apron around 
 his hands and staring with an expression of suppressed 
 mirth at his old mastei- ; and then, as if unable to con- 
 tain himself, he would burst out with a hobbling, 
 
328 WAKREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 musical laugh, interspersed with such expressions ass 
 "Praise de Lor'!" " Ki yi, what 'ud Susey say?" 
 ** O golly, I knowd it, shuah ! " 
 
 It was impossible for Robert not to notice these 
 very peculiar proceedings of his ex-sei'\^ant. So he 
 did what Archy had been trying to get him to do for 
 some time — that is, to ask him the cause of his ex- 
 cessive hilarity. 
 
 "Don't yeh know, Mauss Robert? Don't yeh 
 know, shuah?" And Archy chuckled again to such an 
 extent that in prudence he left the back of Captain 
 Allen's camp-stool and gave the fire a joyous kick. 
 
 " I can 't say that I do know, Archy ; but I assure 
 you I am very happy to see you in such spirits," said 
 Robert, looking up with a sly smile at Archy, who had 
 returned and was again torturing his apron. 
 
 "Yeh 're shuah yeh doesn't know?" again asked 
 Archy. 
 
 " Yes, sure." 
 
 " golly, Mauss Robert." 
 
 "Well, Archy, out with it." 
 
 " Mauss Robert, yeh 's an offsir. Ki yi, doesn't yeh 
 know yeh 's an offsir?" and Archy opened his great 
 eyes and gave a wondering laugh. 
 
 " Yes, Archy, I think I am to be, and I am glad 
 you are pleased," said Robert, looking down at his 
 plate, with a full knowledge of the thoughts running 
 through Archy's head. 
 
 After supper Archy hurried through with the clean- 
 ing up, and packed everything in the camp-chest ; then 
 he came to the tent-door and looked in for an instant 
 as if to attract Robert's attention, which he did not 
 succeed in doing ; so he walked away and came back 
 
"IT'S DE ODDER CAP'N I WANTS." 329 
 
 from the fire in a few minutes and looked in again. 
 Ilobert noticed him and asked : 
 
 *'Archy, do you wish to see Captain Warren?" 
 
 *' Yes, mauss, I does." 
 
 Allen rose to walk out, but xlrchy, with a laugh, 
 said : 
 
 " Not you, Mauss Al. It 's de odder cap'n I wants." 
 
 The captains laughed heartily at this, and Robert 
 went out, when Archy led him mysteriously to the 
 line where the horses were picketed and pointed out 
 Senor, who was in splendid condition. 
 
 " Mauss Kobert, yeh kin have me * long now, yeh 's 
 an offsir — can't yeh?" 
 
 *' Why, yes, Archy, if you would like to leave Allen," 
 said Robert, with an ariected indifference. 
 
 *'If I'd like to leave Mauss Al? Why, Mauss 
 Robert, hav 'nt I worked an' look 'd for'd to this day, 
 a-prayin* I might be 'long wid yeh again ? An' now 
 yeh does n't keer !" Archy dropped his head with a 
 dejected air as he concluded, but his whole expres- 
 sion changed as he felt his own hand clasped by his 
 master's and heard him say : 
 
 "Archy, I did not care for this commission on my 
 own account, but I did on yours. I wanted you near 
 me. And from this day forth only death can come to 
 keep us apart." 
 
 Archy returned the pressure with no gentle squeeze, 
 and a hot drop fell on his master's hand. He was too 
 full to express his feelings beyond ejaculating, "Oh, 
 praise de Lor' I praise de Lor' !" 
 
 That night as Robert lay in liis tent he saw the fly 
 opened nearly every hour and the tall form of Archy as 
 he peered in, and he heard, as in a dream, the soft 
 28* 
 
330 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 voice pouring out the hymns that suggested home 
 and brought up all its happier memories. 
 
 While in camp near Corinth, Colonel Jackson sent 
 Robert an order he had received from General Buell, 
 which was to send Captain Robert Warren and twenty 
 such men as he might select to his (General Buell's) 
 headquarters at once, 
 
 Robert was very anxious to secure a lieutenancy 
 for Gaines, and have him assigned to his company ; 
 and for this reason he sought every opportunity to 
 have that brave fellow's sterling merits known. Of 
 course he was the first man selected, and with him the 
 Dawns, Aleck Cameron, and Tennessee's Western 
 friends, "Indian Nation," "Arkansas," and Long 
 Sam. It was an easy matter to find men anxious to 
 accompany Robert on his supposed scout, for the 
 daring and success of his expeditions were becoming 
 subjects for camp-fire recital. 
 
 On reporting in the evening, and a few hours after 
 getting the order, to General Buell, Captain Robert 
 Warren — to give him his title for once — was instructed 
 to make a scout in the direction of Holly Springs, 
 where it was supposed the enemy was organizing for 
 a dash northward, and, having obtained all the in- 
 formation he could, to return to the army at Corinth, 
 or to report to Colonel Philip H. Sheridan, if he found 
 his command easier of access. 
 
 That night Robert Warren and his scouts, by a de- 
 tour, got beyond the Union lines and turned south 
 toward Holly Springs, intending to make their observa- 
 tions the next night. The country was thinly settled 
 and the roads heavy and sandy, but both grew better 
 as he got further south from the line of Tennessee. 
 
ONE OF THE CHIVALRY. 331 
 
 That evening he went into camp in a piece of woods 
 near a large cotton plantation about a half mile from 
 the main road. A short time afterwards an elderly 
 gentleman, attracted by the smoke, made his ap- 
 pearance and introduced himself, in the most affable 
 manner, as " Dr. Miller, the proprietor of the planta- 
 tion." Robert was glad to see him, and soon made 
 an-angements for the purchase of fodder for the horses 
 and additional food for the men. Dr. Miller was a 
 Southern gentleman of the old school ; that is, he was 
 generous, impulsive, sensitive, and conceited, and the 
 half hour he spent with the scouts, whose true char- 
 acter he of course knew nothing of, was occupied by 
 minute details of what he would have done had the 
 war occurred ten years before ; what he might be 
 tempted to do if the Yankees came within gun-shot 
 of his home, for old as he was he considered himself 
 still a match for a dozen of ' ' the cowardly negro- 
 stealers," as he called the Northern soldiers. 
 
 It cost nothing for Robert to tell Dr. Miller that he 
 honored his spirit and devotion, and hoped the young 
 men would emulate his example. Indeed this little 
 piece of judicious flattery completely won the chival- 
 rous old man, who began to think Robert a young 
 fellow of judgment and sense, so he consequently 
 extended an invitation for him to spend the evening 
 at his house. Robert accepted with profuse thanks, 
 and, after instructing Graines carefully as to what 
 should be done, he accompanied the doctor to his 
 very comfortable home : that is, the place was com- 
 fortable for a Mississippi planter's house. It was 
 white, and had the stereotyped disproportioned pil- 
 lars before it and the wide gallery around it. The 
 
332 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 grounds were very slovenly kept. They had been 
 well laid out once, but the neglect and weeds spoke 
 of aesthetical plans never fully carried out. The in- 
 terior of the house was in keeping with the outside. 
 A wide hall, without carpet or matting, that echoed 
 the footfalls like a deserted or haunted castle. A 
 mild smell of decay in the large, slovenly- furnished 
 parlor, with its faded gilt paper and mock-chande- 
 liers. Robert took a hasty inventory of the place 
 as the servant entered with lights, and the doctor 
 went out to order supper. 
 
 An unexpected pleasure was in store for Robert. 
 At the supper-table he was introduced to two hand- 
 some, tall young ladies, both dressed alike, and re- 
 sembling each other like two drops of water. They 
 were the doctor's twin daughters and only children. 
 He was a widower, and felt a just pride in his beauti- 
 ful children. In truth, Robert's respect for the old 
 gentleman went up at once, he frowning upon the 
 doctor's wish that one of them had been a son, in 
 order that he might fight for the South. 
 
 After supper, in answer to a query from the doc- 
 tor, Robert said he hoped to meet General Bragg at 
 Holly Springs next day, as he Avas to report to him 
 the result of his sceut. 
 
 "Why, my dear sir, Bragg was at Tupelo a few 
 days since waiting for Beauregard to join him ; he 
 surely would not come over to Holly Springs at this 
 critical time," said the doctor, with some excitement. 
 
 Robert lowered his voice, and in a confidential and 
 mysterious tone said: "Doctor, you will hear of 
 things that will astonish you beA)re this week is past* 
 I know of combinations that would make your hair 
 rise. Some day you will know all." 
 
THE FAIR TWINS. 333 
 
 The doctor appreciated Robert's confidence, for he 
 lowered his voice and mysteriously said : " You aston- 
 ish me." 
 
 " Do you know what troops are at the Springs now?" 
 asked Robert ; then, as if correcting himself for ask- 
 ing such a question, he added, self reprovingly, "but 
 of course, you do not, the men are so cautiously on 
 the move." 
 
 "The Texas Rangers are there now. You know 
 them, no doubt," said the doctor, nodding in the 
 direction of Robert, who replied : 
 
 '* Oh yes, very well." 
 
 " I suppose," continued the doctor, " you know that 
 Wharton commands them now ; that Terry is dead. 
 A noble fellow Terry was." 
 
 *' Yes, a brave man ; but one equally daring is at 
 the head of the gallant Eighth, Wharton is a splen- 
 did soldier," said Robert, with undisguised earnest- 
 ness. 
 
 "Do you know any of the men in the Rangers?" 
 asked the doctor, and without waiting for an answer 
 he went on, " I have a nephew who belongs to them, 
 a splendid young fellow, from Brazoria, named Addi- 
 son, a sister's child. By the way, I expect him here 
 about 10 o'clock." 
 
 " I would be very glad to meet any of the regiment, 
 particularly if related to my fair friends," said Robert, 
 bowing in the direction of the young ladies, who sat 
 suggestively near the piano. 
 
 Robert, who really loved music, asked, as a favor, 
 that the ladies would play, and with well-bred willing, 
 ness they at once acquiesced. The captain was a 
 soldier, so they indulged him, by way of a prelude. 
 
334 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 with " The Bonnie Blue Flag," *' Dixie/' with appro- 
 priate words, and a queer, figurative song of remark- 
 able poetic ability, called " The Southern "Wagon." 
 in which the States — South — were represented as 
 piling into a vehicle, one after the other, unlike the 
 original swain and his " Phillis dear," and each stanza 
 ended with the delightful refrain — 
 
 " Then wait for the wagon, 
 The dissolution wagon, 
 Oh ! wait for the wagon. 
 And we '11 all take a ride." 
 
 Fortunately Eobert knew the air, and, with a fitting 
 military enthusiasm, he walked to the piano at the 
 first martial sound, and, with his deep bass, swelled 
 out the chorus to the great delight of the doctor, 
 who beat time on the matting with his feet. During 
 the singing Robert found time to look at his watch : 
 five minutes to nine. 
 
 Suddenly he became aware that he had business at 
 camp which would detain him a short time, and, with 
 regrets in profusion, he stated his intention of leaving^ 
 saying at the same time that if agreeable he would 
 return in a half hour and finish his delightful treat. 
 
 The doctor wished to accompany him, but Bobert 
 politely put him off by saying he would run to the 
 camp and back in no time, which would be very un- 
 dignified for him to do if the doctor accompanied 
 him. The doctor laughed, and Robert verified his 
 words by starting for the camp with a speed tliat 
 seemed marvelous to the old man, and which led him 
 as he entered the house to utter, "I could do that 
 when I was young. " 
 
 Beaching camp, Robert sought Gaines at once. 
 
CAUTION AND COMPLIMENTS. 335 
 
 "Andy, you know Addison, of Brazoria?" 
 
 *'I reckon I do," said Gaines with emphasis. 
 
 " Well, he is to visit this plantation, which his uncle 
 owns, to-night. Send some men out on the Holly 
 Springs road, and give them instructions to keep safely 
 all men who belong to the Rangers. Let all bodies 
 pass that number more than four." 
 
 **A11 right, captain." 
 
 " I am gomg back to the house. Send Archy for 
 me at once if there is the appearance of danger, or if 
 Addison is captured." 
 
 "I will do so," said Gaines, while Robert exam- 
 ined his pistols carefully, and hooked up, under his 
 overcoat, his Shiloh sword. He returned to the house, 
 where he met the doctor and his daughters on the 
 gallery. 
 
 " Did you find your men all right, captain ?" asked 
 one of the young ladies. 
 
 "Yes, but men get careless, particularly about 
 guard duty, when away from the enemy's front. They 
 think it an unnecessary work ; but it is duty, and I 
 am determined to carry out my orders to the letter, 
 I never let four hours of the night pass without visit- 
 ing all parts of my camp," said Robert, taking off his 
 overcoat as he entered the house, with the beautiful 
 twms in the advance, and the doctor bringing up the 
 rear. 
 
 "I wish all our soldiers were like you, captain." 
 said the doctor as they resumed their seats ; " we 
 would soon wind up the war. But to tell the truth, I 
 think they are very careless as a rule." 
 
 " You pay me an undeserved compliment, doctor ; 
 but I think I can say without vanity that I wish all 
 
836 WARREK OF TEXAS. 
 
 Bouthem men were like me in principle, there would 
 be fewer traitors in the land, and no need for con- 
 scripting, as I understand the Confederate govern- 
 ment proposes." 
 
 " You are right, captain ; the army is full of traitors, 
 and fear only holds them in the ranks. They are igno- 
 rant as a rule and cannot appreciate their rights. Bragg 
 shot some men a day or two since at Tupelo for some 
 petty offense, and we all think the influence will be 
 very good. Why, over in Alabama," said the doctor, 
 warming with his subject, "they use bloodhounds to 
 chase the deserters." He forgot that Mississippi had 
 thousands of them. She was the North Carolina of 
 the West, hated by the Confederate army for the 
 meanness of her citizens and the uncertainty of her 
 Boldiers. 
 
 Here one of the beautiful twins ventured to say : 
 
 *'I declare, captain, many of the young men near 
 here were for staying at home, but the ladies refused 
 to receive them. We clubbed together and wTote 
 them round-robbin letters, and sent them crinoline, 
 and just drove them into the army." 
 
 "Yes," interrupted the other sweet angel, who 
 played the accompaniments while her sister sang : 
 "The ladies in Jackson, Meridian, and Mobile — in- 
 deed in all our cities and towns — have resolved, and 
 organized for the purpose, not to see any gentlemen 
 not dressed in grey. Personally I have determined 
 not to marry a man who is not certain he has killed 
 at least one vile Yankee." 
 
 The doctor smiled on his heroic daughter an ap- 
 proving, paternal smile, which showed the pride he 
 felt in one capable of such denial for the sake of truth. 
 
*'HALT THAR!" 337 
 
 "Few ladies can boast of your patriotic spirit, and 
 should the fates spare me to see you again, I promise 
 to show you a Yankee's scalp," said the captain, bow- 
 ing to the self-denying girl. 
 
 The twins clapped their little white hands in ap- 
 plause, and the doctor, with liquid approval in his 
 eyes, smiled at the captain and the olive branches. 
 
 "While the captain talked and sang with the doctor 
 and his daughters, the pickets about the camp were 
 vigilant. Gaines remained behind to give orders, 
 and as Archy was the only man who knew Addison, 
 he sent him with Tennessee out on the Holly Springs 
 road. It was the black man's first duty as a soldier, 
 and every sound was listened to, and every shadow 
 of moving branch or passing oloud watched. About 
 ten o'clock, Tennessee, who had been listening with 
 his ear close to the ground, rose quickly, and cocking 
 his rifle and adjusting his belt, said, in his own cool 
 way. 
 
 " Keerful now, ole boy, I hears three on 'em a-comin* 
 shuah." 
 
 To which Archy responded : " Oh golly ! " accom- 
 panying the trite remark with a low chuckle. - 
 
 "Archy, pull down yer hat, so's ter hide that 'ar 
 face o' youra, an' do the haltin'," said Tennessee, 
 stepping behind Archy in the middle of the road. 
 
 On came the horsemen, chatting and laughing, seen 
 where the half-moon shone, then lost in the darkness 
 of the forest shadows. Unaware of the vigilant 
 pickets' proximity, they rode close up at a brisk can- 
 ter, when suddenly the horses were reined in at the 
 sight of a giant form with leveled gun in front, who 
 commanded them in a deep voice, " Halt thar I ** 
 29 
 
338 - WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Then another huge form rose up with polished rifle- 
 barrel in the indistinct light and pointed it at the 
 breast of the second horseman. 
 
 *' Who goes thar?" asks the deep voice. 
 
 ** Friends of the Confederacy, by thunder! Who 
 ever imagined there was a picket in this region?" 
 responded the well-known voice of Addison. 
 
 "It 's him," whispered Archy. 
 
 *' Dismount an' 'vance one at a time," said Tennes- 
 see, stepping quickly beside Archy. 
 
 The first man who dismounted gave his name as 
 Addison, and, being disarmed, he stepped to the rear. 
 The others advanced and were disarmed in the same 
 manner. Addison seemed indignant, and evinced a 
 spirit to complain at his treatment, but Tennessee, 
 who had fastened the horses to some saplings, ordered 
 them to move ahead, intimating that he might be 
 tempted to shoot if there was too much talk. 
 
 When near the camp-fire the prisoners were ordered 
 to sit down, and a guard was placed over them by 
 Gaines. 
 
 Addison was not aware of the character of his cap- 
 tors, and he expostulated against such treatment. 
 
 *' Where are your passes?" demanded Gaines. 
 
 ".We have none. Our regiment is close by, and 
 after 'taps' I thought I 'd run over and see my uncle, 
 who lives close by. Come, lieutenant, there is no 
 use in holding us for nothing." This was said by 
 Addison in a pleading tone, but Gaines was determined 
 in his reply. 
 
 " I have orders to an-est any man who travels this road 
 to-night without authority. The captain will be here 
 presently ; speak to him." 
 
"GOSH, MAUSS, WE'SE GOT 'EM!" 339 
 
 The prisoners swore and growled at their ill luck. 
 In the meantime Archy hm-ried to the house, where 
 the captain was listening in raptures to ' ' Beauregard's 
 Grand March." On learning that his servant wished 
 to see him, Robert excused himself and stepped out. 
 As he did so Archy seized his arms and in a hurried 
 whisper said : "Gosh, Mauss Robut, we 'se got 'em/* 
 
 "What, Addison?" 
 
 •' Yas, Adsou He did n't know me Oalled me 
 'sail' an' 'sargent.' I'd like 'd ter larf right out," 
 and xirchy put his hand to his mouth to suppress the 
 chuckle which the memory of the event excited. 
 
 Robert returned to the parlor, and, thanking the 
 family for their courteous treatment, said he must 
 return at once to camp, as a courier had arrived with 
 orders that must be acted on without delay. 
 
 The doctor regretted that the captain could not stay 
 until his nephew arrived, and the young ladies for 
 once deemed duty to the Confederacy cruel. Bidding 
 them good-bye, Robert returned to camp, and, after a 
 hasty consultation between himself, Gaines, and Ten- 
 nessee, it was decided to examine the prisoners sepa- 
 rately, with a loaded pistol close to the head of each 
 while being questioned, first informing them that their 
 captors were Yankees. If the stories corroborated, it 
 would prevent the necessity for a scout around the 
 Springs. Extinguishing the fii*es, Robert gave the 
 order to "saddle up," attending to his own horse, 
 while Archy quickly mounted and galloped back after 
 the horses of the Texans. The prisoners, closely 
 guarded, were placed on their own horses, and not an 
 answer given to their wondering questions, while 
 Robert led the advance, riding toward a swamp which 
 
340 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 they had passed about three miles back on the road, 
 lleaching this they rode in some distance, and the 
 order was given to dismount. The ground was miry 
 and wet. The moon had gone down, and the black 
 ash and tamarack trees, with their drooping branches, 
 gave an air of gloom to the place, which was intensi- 
 fied by the occasional "hoot, hoot" of an owl and 
 the croaking of countless frogs. 
 
 " It is, perhaps, unnecessary to tell you," said 
 Kobert, advancing to the prisoners, and speaking in a 
 firm tone, "that you are prisoners in the hands of 
 Union scouts. Should we be captured in this service 
 we would expect no mercy from the rebels, and con- 
 sequently we feel inclined to return none. Your only 
 chance for escape is to answer truthfully such ques- 
 tions as I may put to you. I will examine you sepa- 
 rately, and if the stories do not agree I will send you 
 farther into this swamp, and no man will ever know 
 your fate. Walk this way, sir." Robert motioned 
 to the prisoner nearest to him, who immediately 
 obeyed the order. 
 
 Walking back some distance the prisoner said : 
 " I 'm willin' ter tell all I knows, an' that ain' t much," 
 whereupon he gave his regiment and brigade, with 
 the names of the organizations at the Springs and by 
 whom commanded. 
 
 After learning all he could in this way, Robert said* 
 
 "You say John Wharton is your colonel?" 
 
 " That 's what I meant to say," replied the prisoner. 
 
 "Where is Colonel Wharton now?" asked Robert. 
 
 ♦'Wall, cap'n, I don't like to say," said the pris- 
 oner, in* a hesitating tone. 
 
 " You must be the judge of your own answers," said 
 
SWAMPED. 341 
 
 Bobert, sternly. "Here, Aleck Cameron, bring me 
 the halter from this man's horse. 
 
 " Stop, cap'n, ye 've got the dead wood on me this 
 time. I '11 tell yeh all about it ;" and the prisoner's 
 voice grew tremulous. 
 
 "Well, where is John Wharton?" 
 
 *' Why, he an' Major Harrison is back on the next 
 plantation to the doctor's. The regiment 's close by." 
 
 "How far from there is the regiment?" asked 
 Kobert. 
 
 " Not mor 'n a mile. Fact is, we *s a-goin' on a 
 raid inside the Yankee lines to-morrow, and the regi- 
 ment was pushed out to-night so ' s to give us a good 
 6tart in the mornin'." 
 
 The other prisoner was brought up, and his state- 
 ments agreed in every particular with those of the 
 first. 
 
 Addison was then taken aside, w^hen Eobert made 
 the same demand, 
 
 " I cannot be forced to give information that will 
 damage the cause of my country, and if you are the 
 brave man you ought to be to command such an un- 
 dertaking, you will do me no wrong for standing by my 
 principles," said Addison. 
 
 " Might I ask what your principles are ? ' ' 
 
 "You can, sir ! My principles as a soldier are the 
 interests of the Confederacy," replied Addison. 
 
 " Yes, and to promote the interests of the Confed- 
 eracy, you, who now ask life at my hands, would sanc- 
 tion the imprisonment of an aged man ; you would 
 hold him till death came in mercy to take him from 
 your cruel grasp ; you would forget every feeling of 
 boasted love for that old man's daughter and vaunted 
 29* 
 
842 WaHREN of TEXAS. 
 
 affection for that old man's son in the honr of their 
 gi'eat trouble, and crush them to the earth." Robert 
 was going on, his tone becoming more excited, but 
 the prisoner stopped him, exclaiming in great agita- 
 tion : 
 
 •* Gracious Heaven, who are you?'* 
 
 " I am Robert Warren, of Gonzelletta. If you doubt 
 me, I can place your finger in the bullet-mark of your 
 cowardly assassins. Yes, Mr. Addison, I can show 
 you the fragments of the flag which you tore down 
 from the court-house at Brazoria, and which I am 
 bearing back. I have a hundred burning evidences 
 in my heart of such as you and your principles. Let 
 me hear no more of them from you — I might be 
 tempted to degi*ade myself with your blood." 
 
 *' For God's sake, shoot me, Robert Warren, but do 
 not talk in that strain. Many things in the past I 
 would change, but as God is my judge I was influenced 
 by honest motives. I regi*et your father's death, and 
 the loss of your property, but it was not my fault." 
 
 "What, my property gone? Why, this is a fresh 
 blow. I suppose my mother and sister are homeless, 
 and -11 that your principles may triumph." Robert 
 walked away, for he was too much excited to speak 
 longer with the prisoner. He had learned before of 
 the southern confiscation act, and this intelligence 
 but confirmed his fears. 
 
 This was no time to think of self. Wharton was 
 near by, with but few men near him. To capture or 
 kill hhn would be to render the country a signal ser- 
 vice. He certainly had papers o^ value on his per- 
 son. Robert determinea to enter the iion's der. 
 
 " Aleck Cameron, you, Ned, Dawn, and Archy must 
 
NOCTURNAL VISITORS. 843 
 
 stay back here and keep good watch over the prison- 
 ers ; I will return inside of three hours. Light no fires 
 and if the prisoners attempt to escape shoot them down 
 at once." 
 
 " Hoot, captain, they *re nae sa daft as to tempt this 
 chiel wie 'scapin'. Ye '11 fine us as safe as Ailsie Craig 
 gin ye come back," said Aleck, as he made fast his 
 horse and took off the bridle. 
 
 Giving Aleck a few whispered instructions as to 
 what he should do in case they did not return, Kobert 
 with the remainder of his men mounted and retraced 
 their steps toward the doctor's plantation. Riding 
 past it about a mile, they discovered, back from the 
 road about two hundred yards, a large house, which 
 Eobert judged rightly was the place where Colonel 
 Wharton was billeted for the night. Turning into a 
 lane some distance before reaching the house, he dis- 
 mounted the men, and ordering them to stand by their 
 horses, he and Gaines walked cautiously back to the 
 end of the lane, which terminated in an inclosure 
 surrounded by those adjuncts to every southern plan- 
 tation, viz., negro quarters. They aroused the occu- 
 pants of the nearest hut without any alarm, for a negro 
 soon made his appearance at the door, and asked what 
 the gentlemen wanted. 
 
 " Uncle, can you tell me who lives here ? " asked 
 Robert of the black man, who, half awake, was en- 
 deavoring to fasten his braces. 
 
 " Mauss King libs heah, sah," said the black man, 
 giving his pants an adjusting hitch. 
 
 " Are there any strangers in the house to-night, 
 uncle?" 
 
 " Strangers ! " ejaculated the ne^^'o, '' 'Fore heaben, 
 
344 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 mausser, dar 's iiothin' else. Over dar, 'bout de galry, 
 reckon dar's mor'n a hunderd. Com'd from Texas." 
 
 " Do you know the names of any of them?" asked 
 Robert. 
 
 " 'Deed I does n't, mausser, but my ole woman 
 knows — she cooks up at de house." 
 
 "Don't make a noise, but tell her I want to see 
 her," said Robert, who became a little alarmed at the 
 barking of a half dozen curs, such as are always to be 
 found around negro quarters. 
 
 *'Hush these dogs, uncle, quick. Here's five dol- 
 lars. That 's right. This is your wife?" said Robert 
 as a stout-looking negro woman came to the door. 
 
 " Why, bress de Lor, who is yeh 't any rate?" said 
 the woman in surprise. 
 
 "Hush, aunty — don't be frightened — I am a 
 Yankee." 
 
 *' You ' s a Yankee ? ' Clar to heaben, yeh skeer me,** 
 said the black woman in a tone that showed she was 
 certainly astonished. 
 
 *' Yes, aunty, and in a short time we are coming to 
 set you all free. Now tell me, are there any soldiers 
 over at the house ? " 
 
 The woman seemed to be convinced of Robert's 
 character by his earnest, hurried tone, and lowering 
 her voice into a whisper, she puffed out as if the sup- 
 pression of her natural tones gave her shortness of 
 breath : 
 
 " Dar 's right smart sojers oberdar, shuah," pointing 
 to the house. " Fust two com'd ; one mauss called 
 kernul an de udder boss, or caupling, or like dat. Den 
 arter supper mor 'n fifty com'd, and fas'en'd dar bosses 
 in de yar'. Dey 's a sieepin' on de galry. I knows 
 
EPISTOLARY COMPLIMENTS. 845 
 
 dar 's a heap on 'em, kase I cooked for 'em, an' Loi-* ! 
 but dey was hungry. Jest kep' us a totin' coifee an' 
 bacon an' dodgers till I thought dey neber would stop." 
 
 " That is all right, aunty — here is some money for 
 you. Now tell me where T can find the horses — and 
 you, uncle, come with me. But, stop," said Eobert, 
 as if a new thought struck him, "aunty, do you know 
 where the man they called 'colonel' sleeps, and 
 where his saddle and saddle-bags are?" 
 
 *' Yas, I does, mauss, but if yer a Yank keep clar. 
 I tell yell dey 've heaps o' guns." 
 
 •' I know, aunty, but I am fighting for the colored 
 people and the Union, and the colored people should 
 help me. There are too many men over there for me 
 to attack, but I must have the colonel's saddle and 
 saddle-bags, even if I get shot trying. Now some of 
 your people know where they are. I will give one 
 hundred dollars for them." 
 
 *' I reckon Steve kin git 'em. Bob, call Steve," said 
 the black woman, addressing her husband. 
 
 The man left and returned in a few minutes with a 
 black boy, to whom Kobert expressed his wishes. 
 Steve announced his willingness to get the desired 
 articles, for the temptation was very great in a mon- 
 etary point of view. Entering the cabin and closing 
 the door, Robert asked the man to rake up the coals ; 
 then taking a blank book from his pocket he wrote : 
 
 "Colonel Wharton: To-night I came close 
 enough to have shot you, but it would have been very 
 mean to change your mode of sleeping. I will 
 borrow your horse and equipments, and when you 
 come for them I promise you a warm reception. In- 
 deed, if you had not been in such good company I 
 
846 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 would have insisted on taking you with me to-night. 
 I can only make this clear by signing myself, 
 "Hastily yours, Robert Warren, 
 
 " Captain U. S. Vols:* 
 
 " Steve, are Wharton's saddle-bags in his room ?" 
 
 " No, mauss ; dey 's in de hall," said Steve. 
 
 *' Very well. Who takes him coffee in the morning ?" 
 
 *' Bet does, sah." 
 
 " Now, Steve, give this to Bet, with this five-dollar 
 bill, and tell her to leave the note on Wharton's dress- 
 ing stand." 
 
 " I will, sah, shuah," said Steve. 
 
 •*Now be quick, and bring me the saddle and sad- 
 dle-bags. Make two trips. Lay them at the door 
 if I am not here when you come back. And, Steve, 
 bring the colonel's sword if you can. I will pay extra 
 for that." Steve agreed to this ; indeed he felt in the 
 humor for stealing, and appeared to appreciate the 
 whole affair. . 
 
 While Steve went to the house, Robert sent the 
 man for Wharton's horse, and he and Gaines made 
 quick work cutting the halters of the animals fastened 
 around the yard, and rendering useless the saddles 
 that were straddled about on the fence. 
 
 They got back and found Wharton's horse saddled 
 at the door. 
 
 * ' Now, Graines, get back and mount yourself and 
 the men." 
 
 Gaines hurried back with a soft, quick step, and 
 Robert adjusted the saddle and strapped to the pum- 
 mel the colonel's sword. Assuring himself that all 
 the equipments were right, he vaulted into the saddle 
 and started down the lane. He had to pass nearer to 
 
THE ALARM. 847 
 
 the house than the cabins were, and the horse seemed 
 opposed to leaving his companions, for he gave a neigh 
 when near the house that sounded like a locomotive 
 whistle. The noise awoke some of the Eangers, for 
 one jumped up and shouted : 
 " Who goes thar?" 
 
 '* Friends," came the answer in a strong voice, as 
 Robert walked his horse down the lane. 
 *' What's yer name?" asked the Eanger. 
 "Addison," said the rider. 
 
 * ' Come back, lieutenant. The colonel sent for yeh. 
 He 's mad as blazes. Come back." 
 
 Still the horseman kept on, and the neighing of his 
 horse was answered by the sympathetic neighing of 
 the horses of the scouts. 
 
 "By hell, boys, that ain't Addison. Yanks! 
 Yanks ! Yanks !" rang from a score of voices, and the 
 Rangers sprang for their arms, and fired at random 
 in the direction of the scouts. 
 
 " Get your horses," shouted Wharton from an upper 
 window. "Quick, men!" Lights flashed through 
 the house, shouts and orders rang out in wild confu- 
 sion, which was increased by the galloping of the 
 loosened and now stampeded animals. 
 
 They were too late. Back toward the swamp the 
 scouts galloped, Don keeping close to Robert's fresh 
 horse, his fine ears laid back as at times he jealously 
 snapped at Wharton's charger. 
 
 Little Ned was on the road near the place where 
 the prirsoners were concealed, and prevented the scouts 
 riding past in the darkne.ss. 
 
 ''Rest your horses here a few minutes, men," said 
 Robert, as he dismounted and hurried into the swamp. 
 
348 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Saddle up here. Come, prisoners, mount." In 
 ten minutes all were again on the road, the prisoners 
 closely guarded, and the sound of the pursuing horse- 
 men coming up the road. 
 
 " T say, Cap.," said Tennessee, riding close to Rob- 
 ert when they were again on the road, *' we could lick 
 thunder out of them fellers wat 's chasin' us, if ye 'd 
 only give us a chance. Dogon'd if I ain't halfspilin' 
 fur a fight." 
 
 " I should like to give them a brash, Tennessee, but 
 we must run no risks. Some other time we can afford 
 to stand.' ' 
 
 Tennessee acquiesced, though he muttered at times, 
 as he restrained Wharton's horse, on which he was now 
 mounted, " Dogon'd if I ain't jest shuah we could 
 rile them fellers awful." 
 
 Gradually the sounds of the Rangers behind were 
 lost, and till daylight the scouts kept on, when they 
 were well beyond the danger of immediate pursuit. 
 They halted near a small plantation, where they had 
 the horses fed and procured a breakfast for the men. 
 
 The prisoners were not well mounted, and Robert 
 deemed it imprudent to attempt taking them thiough. 
 When he was again ready to start, he called thdm to- 
 gether, and, addressing Addison, he told him hd would 
 let him and his companions return with their animals. 
 He would not impose a parole he did not expect them 
 to keep, so he would not be astonished to meet them 
 in arms soon again. 
 
 Addison was depressed and gloomy, and in parting 
 said : '* Robert Wan-en, you will find some day I am 
 not so bad as you think." 
 
 Then the scouts turned north, and with their jaded 
 animals the Texans rode slowly south. 
 
CHAPTER XXXI, 
 
 DISASTERS. 
 
 The spring of '62 was most disastrous to the 
 Confederates, and many of the southern people felt 
 the war was nearing an end. On the eastern coast 
 the Federal troops were successful. In Virginia, un- 
 der an idolized general the grandest army ever seen 
 on the American continent, confident of victory, was 
 marching upon Richmond. In Kentucky and Ten- 
 nessee the Confederates lost ground in every battle, 
 and beyond the Mississippi the hordes of Price and 
 Van Dorn were driven into Arkansas and beaten to 
 pieces on their chosen battle grounds. Already the 
 shouts of victory rang through the North, and the 
 advocates of Union exulted in the approaching close 
 of the war. How wonderfully all changed. One 
 week in June saw the boasted Army of the Potomac 
 a broken, disorganized mob, fleeing from an attack on 
 the Confederate capital to the defense of its own 
 The same time saw- Price's late army pushing tri- 
 umphantly into Missouri, with a rabble fleeing before 
 it; while the lately-routed Bragg, at the head of 
 seventy thousand men, ignoring Grant at Corinth and 
 luka, pushed boldly into Kentucky, boasting that he 
 would not rest till his horses watered in the broad 
 Ohio — and he made that boast good. In vain, on 
 nearly parallel roads, did Buell struggle on to head 
 30 
 
350 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 him off. Kentucky, with her rich harvests, her splen- 
 did stock, and abundance of men, com'ted the rebel 
 approach, and welcomed the invasion with shouts of 
 joy and an open hospitality. The clouds hung black 
 over the land in that ten'ible summer of '02. 
 
 Warren with his scouts accompanied Buell's army 
 north, though all had lost that fire which rendered no 
 labor tiresome as they pushed south. By September 
 the Union Army under Buell was back in Kentucky. 
 There they found Kirby Smith and John Morgan rid- 
 ing rough-shod through the State, and the stronghold 
 of Cumberland Gap given up to the foe. Small gar- 
 risons of Union troops were left unprotected through 
 the State, and one by one they surrendered to the 
 enemy. That was a fearful race between Buell and 
 Bragg. The dust from the hostile columns could be 
 seen daily, and at night the camp-fires were visible 
 from each line. Day by day the race continued. The 
 Union troops begged to be led against the rebels, but, 
 for reasons best known to himself, Buell avoided the 
 possibility of battle. Discontent and disappointment 
 pervaded the Union ranks. The men cursed the 
 commanding general openly, and stories were circu- 
 lated that Buell and Bragg were brothers-in-law, and 
 that they often met between the lines and slept to- 
 gether. Of course there was no truth in this, but it 
 served to show the feeling of distrust and spirit of 
 disaffection among the men, and the reasons they 
 found to account for Buell's apparent indifierence. 
 
 There was a feeling of relief, not only in the Union 
 Army, but throughout the nation, when Buell entered 
 Louisville, though pursued by Bragg's cavalry. The 
 Kentuckians who sided with the South were not ui>- 
 
THE NORTH TO THE RESCUE. 861 
 
 selfish in their devotion to the Confederacy, and they 
 shrank from the terms of Bragg's proclamation, which 
 called on the young men of the State to join his army 
 in order to avoid conscription. At the same time he 
 made Confederate money a legal tender for all pur- 
 chases, and confiscated v/ith barbarous injustice the 
 movable property of all Union men. The rebel cit- 
 izens of Kentucky were only reconciled to this state 
 of affairs by the belief that the Confederate troops 
 were a fixture for the war, and that they had seen 
 the last of the Yankees. Indeed, so confident were 
 they of the permanency of southern rule that they 
 determined to inaugurate a governor of Bragg's nam- 
 ing, and a neat old man named Haws was found 
 willing to accept the position. 
 
 At this time Lincoln's call for more men went 
 through the land, and, like the call of Roderick Dhu, 
 it was answered as if the earth teemed with men, 
 and Louisville speedily became a grand camp, into 
 which poured the noblest men of the Northwest. 
 Buell was preparing to turn south again and face the 
 rebels with his increased and res^d army. A few 
 days before the advance. Captain Kelton sent Bobert 
 a letter which he informed him had been found in 
 Wharton's saddle-bags, and, as it alluded to Warren, 
 the captain doubted not it would be of interest. 
 
 Robert hastened to his quarters the moment he re- 
 ceived the letter, and turning to the superscription, 
 he read the name of " William Wallace Grasting, Con- 
 federate States Receiver." He dreaded to begin the 
 letter, for he felt it contained another blow ; but it 
 had to come some time, so he read : 
 
352 WARREN OF TEX AS. - 
 
 *« Brazoria, April 1, 1862. 
 " Hon. Jno. "Wharton, Col. Eighth Texas Cavalry, 
 
 {Gen. A. Sidney Johnston's Army.) 
 
 •' My 'Dear Sir : You will, I am sure, pardon me for 
 troubling you at this time, and attribute this intrusion 
 to my desu'e to keep you posted on public matters in 
 this State, which you are destined to govern, as I feel 
 confident you will be elected as soon as you return. 
 It would certainly cheer your hours of trial and danger 
 did you but hear the unrestrained and well-deserved 
 praise lavished on you by all the people. 
 
 '* It is pleasant to know that the disaffection which 
 at one time threatened the integrity of " the Lone Star 
 State" has been effectually crushed out, and a 
 healthier patriotic feeling persuades all classes. 
 
 "You no doubt remember the Warrens, of Gronzel- 
 letta? The course of this unfortunate family has 
 given us no small degree of trouble. After the death 
 of Robert Warren, senior, it was my principal duty to 
 sell his property, which was purchased by your ardent 
 admirer, the elder Mr. To^vnsend. 
 
 " Miss Mary Warren foolishly started from here, to 
 find her brother, last fall. By the way, I am given to 
 miderstand that he escaped drowning. Let us hope he 
 is to meet with a more deserved and more ignoble fate. 
 Miss Warren was captured in Tennessee, through the 
 vigilance of young Townsend, who happened to be at 
 Nashville as she attempted to pass through. This 
 young woman was imprisoned, and a search disclosed 
 letters on her person of great importance to the Con- 
 federacy. One of these letters, written by Mrs. 
 Boardraan, was forwarded to me. It showed clearly 
 her character and sympathy with the Yankees. Act- 
 
A CRUEL BLOW. 353 
 
 ing on the evidence therein contained, it became my 
 duty to seize and sell her place, which was purchased 
 by that excellent gentleman and mutual friend of ours, 
 Mr. Church, of Matagorda. It is said that Mrs. Board 
 man and her family have gone north. Certain it is, 
 they have added to the harmony of the community 
 by leaving here. 
 
 *' These measures seem harsh, but they have enabled 
 us non-combatants to eradicate every disloyal ele- 
 ment in our midst. I maintain there is more to dread 
 from internal discord than outside strife. 
 
 " We all learned with pain of the loss of the gallant 
 Terry, but rejoice that one so brave as Wharton suc- 
 ceeds him. My wife has your name ever on her lips, 
 and has written a poem in your praise, which she begs 
 me to inclose. We are daily praying that God may 
 specially guard you and speedily return you victories. 
 An honor will be conferred if at any time you deign 
 to drop a line to, 
 
 *' Yery respectfully, your obedient servant, 
 
 *' William Wallace Gasting, 
 " Confederate States Receiver.' 
 
 Robert read this letter over hastily with a throb- 
 bing heart, then slowly, as if he had misunderstood it, 
 and doubted the evidence of his own senses. Grad- 
 ually he saw the whole terrible truth, and, crushed 
 'neath the blow, he dropped his head in his hands and 
 groaned in very agony. While he sat, bowed, he be- 
 came conscious of another presence in the room, and, 
 lifting up his ashy face, he saw Archy looking down 
 on him with an expression of son'ow and pity. 
 
 " Wat 's wrong, Mauss Eobut ? Nothin' Ikin do fur 
 yeh?" 
 
 30* 
 
354 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Nothing, nothing, Archy. Gracious Heaven, 1 
 feel as if my heart would break ! " 
 
 Then he read and explained Gasting's letter to 
 Archy. 
 
 *' De Lor '11 watch ober all, Mauss Robut. Poor 
 Susey an' de pickaninnies ! I s'pose ole Townsend 's 
 got dem too. Don't trubble, don't trubble, poor 
 mauss." And as Archy spoke he staggered to a seat, 
 and sobbed like a child as he repeated, "Please 
 do n't trubble, Mauss Robut. De Lor' will w^atch ober 
 all. Poor Susey an' de pickaninnies ! Lor', what '11 
 dey do now? Dat 's what 'noys me." 
 
 For several minutes both men sat, struck down with 
 grief. Robert was the first to recover. 
 
 *' There, Archy, my poor boy, look up. It is not 
 right for us to give w'ay in this manner. That's right, 
 do n't cry any more. Go for Gaines. Poor fellow, they 
 don't mention his wife, but I suppose she is a sufiferer 
 too." 
 
 Archy rose, uttering between his sobs words of con- 
 solation to Robert, his fears for Susey and the little 
 ones, and his confidence that the Lord would see 
 everything made right. 
 
 Gaines, learning that Robert wanted him, and read- 
 ing trouble in Archy's face, hurried at once to his 
 captain's quarters. He read Gasting's letter, and 
 heard Robert's comments; then he said slowly, with- 
 out raising his eyes from the ground : 
 
 " Robert, the night we left Brazoria I made up 
 my mind that home, life, and w^hat is still dearer to 
 me, my wife and little one, with my old mother, were 
 to be given up. To hear of the loss of any of these, 
 excepting of course the improbability of hearing of my 
 
SETTING UP A GOVERNOR. 355 
 
 own death, would pain, but it would not surprise me. 
 I was not, and am not now so sanguine as you, but I 
 have a duty to perform, and, come what may, I will 
 press on to the end, Vvhether we are successful or not." 
 
 "God bless you, old friend ! I feel as you do, but 
 this blow came so suddenly that for the time it un- 
 manned me. Henceforth, I promise you that no ca- 
 lamity will deter me." 
 
 Robert seized Gaines's hand as he spoke, and the 
 friends knew each other better. 
 
 October 3 was the day set apart for the inauguration 
 of Governor Haws, Bragg's selection for governor. 
 At Frankfort, Bragg and Buckner, Morgan and Smith, 
 Cheatham and Heath, with their staffs and body guards, 
 were present. Kentucky's bravest sons and fairest 
 daughters had assembled to prepare a banquet befit- 
 ting the splendid occasion of the inauguration. Trium- 
 phal arches, portals wreathed, and streets crossed with 
 barred flags gave a festive appearance to the flat, se- 
 cluded streets of Kentucky's capital. On the hills 
 that overshadow the little town artillery was stationed 
 to thunder out a salute to the State-rights goveraor 
 the moment he became invested with power. Bouquets 
 were prepared at the State House and hotels, and pri- 
 vate residences were thrown open to the victorious 
 southern soldiers. Frankfort was full of life, flowers, 
 and gay uniforms. Music and incense intoxicated 
 the vast assemblage like the host that gathered at the 
 board of the Babylonian king, and everything denoted 
 permanency to the new governor and his cause. 
 
 The Union troops were advancing, and on October 
 the 2d Captain Bobert Warren received an order to 
 march in the direction of Frankfort, distant thirty 
 
856 WAKREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 m'.les, and feel or ascertain the enemy's force. Thej 
 advanced that evening within six miles of Frankfort, 
 and were astonished at finding no vedettes nor out- 
 posts of any kind. The captain wisely went into 
 camp for the night, sending old Dawn, Aleck Cameron, 
 and Tennessee into the town to ascertain the state of 
 affairs. It is not a difficult job for a good scout to 
 pass lines that are well guarded ; it was particularly 
 easy for the three men to enter the unpicketed tovm. 
 About midnight the scout returned, reporting the town 
 in charge of a small provost guard, while the most 
 ample preparations were being made by the citizens 
 for the reception of the Confederate generals and the 
 inauguration of the governor. 
 
 Tennessee went into raptures over the grand feed 
 that was being prepared in town. 
 
 " Why, Cap., Archy ain't no whar. He can 't begin 
 to get up a shadder like the grub I saw. By the ghost 
 of old Andrew, Cap., if we 'uns could get in thar 
 it 'ed be the healthiest joke. Would n't we make the 
 provender fly ! Wall, now, I reckon not," and Ten- 
 nessee smacked his lips and laughed with boyish de- 
 light at the idea he had suggested, but which had 
 already been matured in the mind of the captain. 
 
 Robert smiled, for even the quiet Aleck Cameron 
 was excited, and the old light came back to his sad 
 eyes as he looked around on his devoted men, and felt 
 that his sufferings would not go unavenged. 
 
 Archy, who had overheard Tennessee's criticism on 
 his cooking, felt a little nettled at the bare suggestion 
 of being excelled, even by the people of Frankfort, 
 and he showed it by saying : 
 
 " Mauss Robut, dis chile ain*t agwine to sleep any 
 
"»RAH FOR MAWGIN!" 357 
 
 more dis blessed night. An' if Mauss Tennesse ain't 
 jest a foolin' bout dem tings in Frankfort, why I 
 reckon no one won't want no breakfus' in de mornin'." 
 Archy had them, in his own opinion, and the cap- 
 tain said : 
 
 " Oh, Archy, I must have a cup of coffee, at any 
 rate. You see, v>^e are not certain about that big din- 
 ner. We are not expected, and after looking at the 
 place I might be inclined to think it wrong to disturb 
 the people." 
 
 " Gosh, dat 's so. It might n't be healthy like, but 
 if it 's only healthy to go thar, oh, Susey ! it ' ed jes' 
 be nice." 
 
 Tennessee took a heavy chew of tobacco, and inti- 
 mated that it would be safe to bet a man's bottom 
 dollar on the niceness of the affair, quoting Archy in 
 conclusion, *' If it 's only healthy. That 'ar 's the pint 
 in my mind." 
 
 Before day the scouts were in the saddle, and by 
 sunrise they had crossed to the Lawrenceburg pike 
 "When within three miles of the city they came upon a 
 drunken Confederate soldier lying in a fence comer. 
 One of the men dismounted and shook him up. 
 
 "Hallo! relief come, eh? Damn glad; got so 
 tired waitin'." Here the soldier showed a disposi- 
 tion to get down on his hands and knees and search 
 for something. He was stopped in his efforts, when, 
 i^ith a groan of sorrow, he said : 
 
 "Sure 's hell, some skunk's stole that ar' canteen. 
 Whoever the onory cuss was, he jes' went through some 
 of the bes' Bourbon. Bully for sight ; jes* can't see a 
 Yank with that stuff inside. 'Eah for Mawgin." 
 
 "Wake up, ole fel, an' salute yer nat'ral-born 
 
358 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 frien's," said Tennessee, shaking the drunken man, 
 who showed symptoms in his lower limbs of collapsing. 
 
 The Confederate rubbed his eyes as if awaking from 
 a sleep, and, spreading out his legs to support him- 
 self, he seized a rail to make his position more secure, 
 and, evidently sobered, he drew a long breath, and with 
 a sudden explosion he said : 
 
 " I swar to Heaven, T believe I 'm bagged." 
 
 *' For a man that ain't descended from the prophets 
 you have made a most truthful surmise," said Aleck 
 Cameron in his broad Scotch accent, while his gray 
 eyes were glancing around for the missing canteen. 
 
 " What regiment do you belong to ? " asked the 
 captain. 
 
 *' Scott's Cavalry, a-fightin' for the sunny South, by 
 thunder ! " said the prisoner, with a somewhat defiant 
 and surly tone. 
 
 "Where is your command?'* 
 
 "Dunno," replied the prisoner; "but T reckon 
 they're out Yank huntin'. The boys is spilin' for a 
 fight." 
 
 Some of the men laughed at this remark, when the 
 prisoner added : 
 
 "Wall, if you Yanks don't b'lieve I'm tellin* the 
 truth, jes' hunt up Scott's Cavalry an' ask 'em." 
 
 There was nothing to be made out of this fellow, 
 so Warren pushed still closer to Frankfort. The 
 forenoon was occupied in examining carefully the 
 valley in which the town of Frankfort is situated. 
 Strange as it may seem, there was not a soldier in 
 sight, and nearly all the white people had crowded 
 into the town. On the hill overlooking the town, west 
 from the Louisville pike, the scouts were drawn up in 
 
FRANKFORT RECAPTURED. 359 
 
 full view of the crowds below. Their advent evi- 
 dently created alarm, for up the opposite hill, in the 
 direction of Lexington, carriages and mounted men 
 were seen to pour in wild haste. They evidently con- 
 sidered the cavalry the advance of the Union Army. 
 A few pieces of artillery, intended to fire salutes, be- 
 gan to fire in the direction of the scouts, and this in 
 an instant decided Captain Warren. Sending Graines 
 down the hill, with directions to charge into the town, 
 in the direction of the court-house, the captain with 
 the remainder of the men rode into the valley from 
 the right, and crossing the bridge a minute after 
 Gaines, the bugle sounded the charge, and the colors 
 were unfurled. Down through the streets, past crowds 
 of pale, frightened people, and by houses decked with 
 flowers, and under canopies of rebel flags the Union 
 cavalry dashed. There was a short resistance near 
 the State House, but the rebels showed no disposition 
 to fight in the crowded town. Almost as quickly as 
 it takes to tell it, the streets were deserted save by 
 the scouts and a few drunken soldiers, who could not 
 join in the retreat. The captain did not like to show 
 his full force by pursuing. He had not been in town 
 ten minutes before the old flag floated from the State 
 House ; and over many of the buildings that a short 
 time before floated the stars and bars the Stars and 
 Stripes were waving. So quickly men change. There 
 was feasting in Frankfort that day, and in many hearts 
 besides those of Warren and his men there was rejoic- 
 ing, too. Though the smiles of misled beauty did 
 not beam on the banquet board, their absence did not 
 detract from the relish with which the governor's din- 
 ner was eaten. 
 
S60 \VARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 There were laughter and jesc at the table and loud 
 praise of the immortal cooks. Archy was ordered to 
 hide his diminished head forever, which he proceeded 
 to do in a huge veal pie. Tennessee and his brother, 
 little Ned, who was always near him, ate with aston- 
 ishing relish and energy. 
 
 "Boys," said the former, with his mouth filled with 
 roast beef and jelly, " lay in enough for the campaign, 
 for if yeh do n't eat enough now, mark my words 
 you '11 all be sorry bimeby." 
 
 This prudent advice was not needed, though the 
 men, at the captain's request, abstained from the 
 liquors, which they found in abundance. This was a 
 piece of self-denial which only an old soldier can 
 appreciate. 
 
 That afternoon, with wreaths around their horses* 
 necks and a score of rebel flags trailing behind them, 
 the scouts fell back to the hill and left Frankfort to 
 ponder over its short-lived glory. 
 
JHAPTER XXXII 
 
 TRIALS OF THE CAMPAIGN. 
 
 The day after the flight of the Confederate gover- 
 nor from Frankfort, the town was occupied by a brig- 
 ade of Union infantry, and Captain Robert Warren re- 
 ceived orders to report to Greneral Jackson, who was 
 advancing from the direction of Bardstown. 
 
 The weather was intensely hot, and the roads ankle 
 deep with light limestone dust, which the slightest 
 agitation raised into stifling clouds, that covered men 
 and horses, and in many cases obstructed the vision 
 beyond the rank in front. To add to the difficulty of 
 moving troops in Kentucky at this time, the long-con- 
 tinued drought had dried up the springs, and the 
 streams, usually so abundant in that State, presented 
 dry beds, with here and there a stagnant pool of green, 
 animated water. This campaign tried to the utmost 
 the powers of endurance of the old troops, and it was 
 particularly hard on the recruits who joined Buell at 
 Louisville. Many of those men had not been six days 
 in the service when the pursuit of Bragg began. It 
 is safe to say that the men who entered the Army in 
 '62 were, as a class, the best men, physically, of 
 the war, but, like all green soldiers, they began the 
 campaign with knapsacks filled like a peddler's pack, 
 and with as useless a variety of articles. Clothing, 
 toilet articles, stationery, books, photographic albums, 
 31 
 
362 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and, ill some cases, pillows and umbrellas, constituted 
 the outfit of men who afterward felt equipped with a 
 blanket, a coffee cup, and a section of shelter tent. 
 Add to the great load of these personal effects the 
 arms, ammunition, and equipments necessary for a 
 soldier, and the unmilitary reader will have some idea 
 of the loads carried by the majority of the "'62" re- 
 cruits. Ten pounds carried in one position all day, 
 under a hot sun, becomes very heavy toward night. 
 Sixty pounds becomes a very incubus, and he must be 
 a determined fellow who enters camp after his first 
 march of twenty-five miles with as big a load as he 
 had when he started. It takes time to acquire the 
 knack of marching in an Army shoe — the most com- 
 fortable foot-covering in the world, by the way, for a 
 long tramp. The recruits had not this knack, so their 
 feet blistered, their agony became intense, their efforts 
 to keep up failed, and their initiation in war was ter- 
 rible ; indeed, more so than the first thunder of op- 
 posing cannon, for men thought only about fighting 
 beforefore leaving home, never about long marches 
 without water or fo d, and a sleep in the open air. It 
 was curious to notice the articles that strewed the 
 road along the line of march. At first, extra boots, 
 blankets, books, albums with the valued pictm-es re- 
 moved ; sometimes whole knapsacks cast aside in dis- 
 gust, and shoes thrown off from blistered feet ; some- 
 times, but rarely, cartridge-boxes and body-belts could 
 be found on the line of march, and the articles dropped 
 could be accepted as a fair criterion of the degree of 
 fatigue of the owner. 
 
 East of Bardstown, Captain Warren reported to 
 General Jackson, who, with his green troops, was on 
 
THE ROSE-WATER POLICY. 363 
 
 the extreme left of the Union advance. Here he met 
 his cousin, Allen, now a major on the general's staff. 
 They had been parted for some months, and they had 
 an abundance of news to exchange. Russell was acting 
 then as an aid to General Polk, whose army was re- 
 ported to be at Harrodsburg. General Bragg, Allen 
 learned, had taken the best stock off his father's 
 plantation, despite the old gentleman's prot. stations 
 and his plea that he had a son in the Southern army. 
 The secessionists of Kentucky were very muct 
 troubled over Bragg' s retreat, for they began to leani 
 the motives that brought him into the State, viz., 
 forage, clothing, and recruits, but their greatest dre-ad 
 was the retaliation they expected from the Union 
 Army. Robert regretted to find that his cousin en- 
 tertained the same opinion of General Buell as that 
 held by the men in the ranks. 
 
 "There is nothing more certain," said the major, 
 " than that it is now in our power, with one hundred 
 thousand well-armed men in this army, to prevent 
 the retreat of the enemy, and to completely destroy 
 him ; but I am satisfied that this campaign will be a 
 miserable failure." 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you talk so, for men have no 
 heart in a v/ork that they are 1 jd to believe will not 
 be successful," said Robert. 
 
 "You misunderstand me, tousin. Our officers 
 hardly speak their fears to theii most intimate friends, 
 yet you can absolutely feel the spirit of dissatisfac. 
 tion when among the men," said Allen, earnestly. 
 Then, after a pause, he continued : " It is about 
 time this war was conducted without gloves. I must 
 acknowledge that the tendency of our commanding 
 
S64 . TTARREN" OF TEXAS. 
 
 officer to conciliate the rebels who are armed against us 
 sickens one. While Bragg and Morgan are stealing, 
 or rather openly taking everything that may be of 
 use to them from Union men, our troops are half the 
 time guarding rebel property, and during this cam- 
 paign our boys have suffered for water while their 
 comrades were guarding wells within sight oii rebel 
 plaufcations." 
 
 " Allen, I can appreciate your feelings in this mat- 
 ter," said Robert. " I remember when we were in 
 Tennessee last spring, the general issued an order 
 against burning fence-rails. Though I never could 
 blame troops if, after a fatiguing march, they pre- 
 ferred dry rails to green wood for their camp-fires. 
 Of course the order was a dead letter, and the general 
 modified it by one of the most absurd amendments — 
 he permitted the men to burn the top rails only. Of 
 course there was always a top rail, and while the 
 order was cheerfully obeyed, the fences, as you know, 
 on the line of march were more thoroughly destroyed 
 than before any order had been issued. Some lawyer 
 on the general's staff pointed out the weak parts in 
 the top-rail order, and it was altered in a way that 
 made even the most stupid of the men chuckle with 
 delight." 
 
 "Oh, yes ! I remember that last order," said Allen, 
 " it was that the troops should only bum those rails 
 they found broken on the ground. Why, we used to 
 break rails for the Seventh Pennsylvania Cavalry, 
 and they kindly did the same thing for us. We 
 did n't suffer for broken rails found on the ground. 
 Why, the men interpreted that order so fine, after a 
 while, that one man would do the breaking while 
 
BEFORE THE BATTLE. 365 
 
 another carried the fragments away. If the whole 
 affair was not an evidence of our weakness, it would 
 be extremely laughable. 
 
 During the two following days McCook's corps, 
 under a scorching sun, was moved rapidly in the di- 
 rection of the enemy, who had his main rendezvous 
 at Camp Breckinridge, on Dick River. This was the 
 same place as the Union "Camp Dick Kobinson," a 
 few miles northeast of Danville. On the evening of 
 the 7th, Jackson's division reached IMaxville^ a little 
 town about ten miles from Harrodsburg, and on the 
 direct road to that place. 
 
 During the day there had been a good deal of 
 skirmishing between the cavalry on both sides, and 
 Robert, who had been all day in the advance of the 
 division, felt that the enemy would make a stand on 
 the following morning. 
 
 General Polk's army, it was ascertained, held Per- 
 ryville and the line of hills to the east and north, 
 which covered the water in Chaplin Creek. McCook 
 did not anticipate a severe fight, but with a great 
 deal of caution he formed his men on the irregular, 
 broken hills, west of the rebel position. During the 
 night Jackson closed up, with Rousseau on his right, 
 and beyond him came the splendid divisions of 
 Mitchell and Sheridan, stretching away for four miles 
 toward the miserable little village o£ Perryville. 
 
 Two hours before day the moon was shining with a 
 wonderful brilliancy on the dry hills and shimmering 
 on the stagnant pools in the creek, on which the 
 Union troops gazed with longing eyes. 
 
 Despite the fact that the slopes were covered with 
 timber, the movements of the advanced troops *^ 
 SI* 
 
366 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 either side could be distinctly seen — the arms of 
 the Tsatchful pickets gleaming, and the long rows of 
 steel flashing as the regiments went into position. 
 
 In the Union Army there were fifteen thousand 
 men who had never been under fire, and now, after 
 their fearful march, they stood face to face with the 
 foe, waiting with thrilling hearts and pale faces for 
 the battle to begin. What moments of anguish and 
 trial those preparations for battle are to old soldiers 
 in broad daylight ! How terribly they try fresh 
 troops in the early hours, before the sun has risen, 
 when every ravine reminds them of the valley of 
 death, and mingling thoughts of distant homes and 
 present dangers unstring the strongest nerves, and 
 for the time unman the bravest soldiers. It was the 
 first time the Eighty-fifth Illinois was ever in battle, yet 
 one hour before day they advanced on the skirmish 
 line close up to the enemy. Down the Chaplin valley 
 and up the opposite hill, now lost in the black shadows, 
 and again out in the full light of the moon they 
 marched. Suddenly, as if a volcano had opened at 
 their feet, the rebel artillery belched into their line, 
 and a brigade rose from the shadows and poured a 
 murderous volley into the regiment, which still pushed 
 on. Not, however, as before, with regular step at 
 skirmish intervals, but closing up and with springing 
 bounds and ringing cheers that echoed down the dry 
 valley, and were caught up by Jackson's untried men. 
 The Eighty-fifth with leveled bayonets struck the en- 
 emy and drove him in confusion from his position. 
 Under the protection of Barnett's battery the heroic 
 Illinoisans held their position, though the enemy made 
 several desperate efforts to recover the lost ground 
 before daylight. 
 
THE LINES ENGAGED. 367 
 
 In the meantime the enemy's right was extended 
 opposite to Jackson's division, and the booming of 
 artillery and the unsteady rattle and roll of musketry 
 became general along the line. About 7 a. m. 
 General Gay, Buell's chief of cavalry, who had 
 come upon the ground, ordered Robert "Warren's 
 company to Rousseau's right, where the Second 
 Missouri, Second Michigan, and Ninth Pennsylva- 
 nia cavalry regiments were advanced dismounted. 
 Colonel Campbell, of Michigan, was ordered to charge 
 and check the enemy, who had crossed the Chaplin 
 and were pushing back Mitchell's left. The cavalry 
 attacked with a wonderful elan, but before the heavy 
 masses of the enemy they were hurled back. To the 
 rear of the cavalry Hotchkiss, of Minnesota, quickly 
 unlimbered his guns and checked the rebel onset. 
 Then the leveled carbines began their work; and 
 Pat Colb urn's crack division halted, became confused, 
 turned, and then in the wildest confusion ran back, 
 pursued by the cavalry up the hill, who captured them 
 by scores on the very line of battle from which they 
 had RO confidently advanced. By 10 a. m. the fire 
 slackened along the line, and the enemy appeared to 
 be receiving re- enforcements. The sun shone down 
 with a hot, coppery glare on the thirsting lines and 
 parched earth, and with longing eyes from opposite hills 
 the rebels and Yankees gazed down on the coveted 
 water, some of the pools already filled with the dead 
 and dying, who had dragged themselves there to cool 
 their parched lips. Sheridan, posted on a command- 
 ing hill, received the next attack, Loomis and Simon- 
 ton with tkeir veteran batteries in his front. The 
 bill seemed one pyramid of smoke and flame as the 
 
868 WARREN OP TEXAS. 
 
 rebels came, and the dry earth seemed turned to 
 clouds of dust, which enveloped Sheridan and Hardee 
 in the terrible struggle. The rebel batteries worked 
 with awful effect upon Sheridan's lines, and for one- 
 half hour it was difficult to distinguish the contending 
 lines. Mitchell and Gilbert closed in the reserve, and 
 down in the valley about the stagnant pools the battle 
 was waged, friend and foe stooping to drink at the 
 same moment, then leaping together to the encounter. 
 Such a struggle could not last long. It was beyond 
 the power of human endurance, and after one-half 
 hour the panting divisions disentangled, and Sheridan 
 slowly fell back to his hill of fire, while Hardee with- 
 drew his bleeding column. In the meantime the 
 thunder of battle from the left drowned all other 
 sounds, and down the line came the rumor that Jack- 
 son was being overpowered. Kobert Warren was re- 
 called to the left, and on reaching there he learned 
 from Allen, who was wounded in the arm, that the 
 gallant Jackson was dead. The rebels had gradually 
 contracted their line, abandoning the village of Perry- 
 ville, and massed in overpowering numbers on Jack- 
 son's front. This they could more easily do as their 
 front was densely wooded. Before this the new troops 
 in Jackson's division had fought with a valor that 
 would have shed glory on the veterans of Donelson, 
 Pea Ridge, and Shiloh, who fought there. Now came 
 the hour of their greatest trial. With fiendish yells, 
 that curdled the blood in the heart of tlije bravest, the 
 rebels under Greneral Buckner rushed down upon 
 Jackson's weakened line. The cool head and brave 
 heart of the nobler leader were forever gone. Though 
 in that hour of trial Jackson was sorely needed, yet 
 
BROTHER AGAINST BROTHER. 361 
 
 the men never flinclied. The Tenth Wisconsin, though 
 reduced in this their first battle nearly one-half, took 
 the brunt of the charge, and was literally crumbled 
 to pieces in the repeated onsets. Stone, of Ken- 
 tucky, and Parsons and Harris worked their batteries 
 as men never worked before, but all in vain ; the rebels 
 still gained ground. Terrell and Webster soon fol- 
 lowed Jackson ; Parsons was captured, the One Hun- 
 dred and Fifth Ohio, Twenty-first Wisconsin, and 
 Eightieth Illinois were doubled up and hurled back 
 before the mad onset of Buckner. The rebel Ken- 
 tuckians were fighting, and on that part of the line 
 ihree thousand loyal Kentuckians opposed them. 
 Allen Warren did not leave the field, though he car- 
 ried his arm in a sling. As the rebel charge swept 
 round the extreme left, he was on that part of the line 
 with his cousin's command, all dismounted. Captain 
 Warren had lost nearly half his men. Tennessee was 
 wounded, and Aleck Cameron, the brave, shrewd 
 Scotch boy, was dead ; Gaines was seen to fall in the 
 midst of the enemy, and only a few of the old scouts 
 remained. Fifty men were gathered on the left, but 
 they were heroes, and they dashed down the declivity 
 near Frazer's barn and met the enemy. In the ad- 
 vance, brandishing his sword, came Russell Warren. 
 His hat was off and his long hair was swept back from 
 his sunburned face ; he looked the very ideal of a 
 brave man in a charge. Before the Union onset the 
 rebels were broken and divided into groups, that ral- 
 lied where the Federals were weakest. Allen War- 
 ren, at the head of a few men, struck the body where 
 his brother seemed the master-spirit. The fight lasted 
 but a few seconds, when the brothers crossed swords 
 
370 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and Allen, in a tone of supplication and demand, 
 shouted: "Russell, for the sake of Heaven, surren- 
 der!" "No, by the living God!'- came the reply, 
 as Eussell sprang back and with a powerful blow laid 
 old Dawn bleeding on the ground. Another instant 
 and a bullet from the carbine of little Ned pierced 
 the heart of the brave rebel, and he fell to the ground. 
 The enemy did not pursue Jackson's division, be- 
 lieving it to be completely broken. They struck 
 Rousseau, and for a time that gallant division wavered ; 
 but the commander was everywhere encouraging and 
 directing, and under his wonderful influence the men 
 seemed inspired. The Third Ohio and Forty-second 
 Indiana^ith Pope's Fifteenth Kentucky, received 
 the assault, and like a mighty current that strikes 
 some immovable rock the rebel tide swept round to- 
 ward the Tenth Ohio, under Lytic. Lytle was behind 
 a crest, his men lying down, prepared to advance at a 
 moment's notice. He knew not that to his left, up a 
 treacherous ravine, the enemy, six thousand strong, 
 were surging. There, within sight of his friends, 
 who could not aid him, he lay in ignorance of his 
 approaching ruin. Men would have given their lives 
 at that moment to have told the gallant Lytle of his 
 danger, but there was no time. Vp the ravine and 
 over the crest came the rebels, down upon the heroes 
 of Camifex, who, recumbent on their faces, were in 
 ignorance of the enemy. An alarm from the extreme 
 right, and the Tenth sprang to their feet, the majority 
 to fall again, but not as living men. Too proud to 
 run, the remnant of that noble regiment, with their 
 faces to the enemy, fell slowly back, leaving the 
 model soldier Lytle lying beside his men. Why did 
 
THE BATTLE OYER. 371 
 
 forty thousand soldiers lie within hearing distance of 
 that battle when one-half their number would have 
 made it the most complete victory of the w^ar? Buell 
 can ansvrer, perhaps. As it was, the fighting closed 
 with this last onset, and the rebels in the darkness 
 fell back to Harrodsburg. 
 
 After Robert Warren had seen his own men at* 
 tended to, in company with his cousin Allen, he sought 
 out that part of the field to the left where Russell 
 was seen to fall. Major Warren hoped that his brother 
 was only wounded. Past rows of dead and 'mid the 
 wounded, who were crying for water, the two men 
 walked, each feeling sick at heart by the losses of 
 the day and the scenes around them, now that the 
 battle was over. They found the body, but it was 
 stiff and cold, with the glazed eyes turned up to the 
 stars and the long hair pushed back from the white 
 forehead, as in that terrible charge. 
 
 Robert was the first to speak. " Poor Russell !" he 
 said. " He was noble and brave, and good in every- 
 thing but this one idea of secession." 
 
 xillen had taken his brother's coldliand in his, and 
 the hot tears fell on the boyish, upturned face of the 
 dead. 
 
 " We must take him away, Robert. It will break 
 my father's heart ; but he must see the body ; it will 
 be a sad consolation. To-day the sound of the battle 
 was heard in our old home. God only knows for 
 which of his boys my father prayed." As Allen 
 spoke he beckoned to Archy, who accompanied him, 
 and directed him to carry the body to their camp 
 back on the hill. 
 
 Near the spot where Russell f^ll they found little 
 
372 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Ned, who had stolen out of camp, with his canteen 
 filled with whisky and water, to search for his grand- 
 father. The old man was found still living, though 
 weak from the loss of blood and affected mentally by 
 the fearful gash in the side of his gray head. The 
 old man recognized the voice of little Ned, and asked 
 him how the battle had gone and if Jim was living. 
 
 " We uns have licked," said Ned, as he took the old 
 man's head in his lap, "an' Uncle Jim 's shot in the 
 breast. He 's gone to hospital. Keckon, grandad, 
 he '11 come out all right bimeby." 
 
 "An' you, Ned, are you hurt?" asked the old man, 
 as he groped about in the darkness, till his hand came 
 in contact with that of Ned's. *' They mus n't hurt 
 you, Ned, my boy ; yeh see, we uns mus' go back to 
 Tennessee again." 
 
 " Dogoned if we ain't agoin' thar too, grandad. 
 Now do n't fuss, an' the cap'n '11 have yeh keered fur 
 like a chile," and Ned looked up at his captain. 
 
 Robert stooped and talked to the old man, but he 
 evidently did not recognize him, for he became some- 
 what profane and imagined himself back in the 
 battle again. Shortly after old Dawn was carried to 
 the field-hospital, and Robert and his cousin searched 
 for Gaines among the dead and wounded of both 
 armies where he had fought, but in vain. The two 
 hours given the captain by General Rousseau had 
 expired, and he reported at once to that officer. 
 
 Though tired with the heat and labor of the day, 
 and sick at heart from the loss of his best men, 
 Robert had orders awaiting him to doff his uniform 
 and take such men as he desired for a scout in the 
 direction of Danville and Camp Dick Robinson. 
 
IN THE ROLE OF REBEL RECRUITS. 373 
 
 The first campaign of *61 had made him familiar 
 with every foot of ground in that vicinity. The 
 country was filled with bands of unorganized Ken- 
 tuckians, who were hurrying out of the State, and to 
 assume the character of recruits was a very easy 
 matter at that time About 2 o'clock in the morning, 
 after a short rest, Robert Warren went south from 
 Perryville, and, after a ride of four miles, struck a 
 lane or mud road that ran in the direction of Danville. 
 The night was dark and black clouds veiled the moon, 
 and, as usual after a battle, drenched the dry earth 
 with the much-needed rain. The lane, after a mile's 
 ride, terminated in a beaten road, a short distance 
 down which the scouts unexpectedly ran into a body 
 of cavalry dismounted by the roadside. 
 
 '* Hallo I whar are yeh gwine with them bosses ?" 
 asked one of the men. 
 
 "I 'm going to Camp Breckinridge," said Robert, 
 in a disguised tone. 
 
 "What is your regiment f asked another, in an 
 authoritative tone, as he approached Robert and laid 
 his hand on his bridle. 
 
 The voice was familiar, and in an instant Robert 
 replied : " Howard Smith's Second Kentucky." 
 
 "Why, sir, your regiment is at Lexington," said 
 the man at the horse's head. 
 
 " I know that ; but I am ordered to report with 
 thirty-five recruits to him at Camp Breckinridge. 
 Would you like to see my papers, sir?" asked Robert. 
 
 " No ; I presume you are all right sir. What is 
 your name ?" again asked the familiar voice. 
 
 "Parrish, from Midway, sir; Lieutenant Parrish." 
 
 " Oh, yes, lieutenant, I think I have met yon^before. 
 32 
 
374 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 My name is Wharton — John Wharton of the Texan 
 Bangers." 
 
 With an impetuosity that startled even the impul- 
 sive Wharton, Robert took off his hat, and, rising in 
 his stirrups, he turned to his men and shouted : 
 
 '* With a will, boys ! Three cheers for General 
 Wharton and the Texas Rangers !" 
 
 The cheers, or yells rather, which followed this 
 command seemed to delight Wharton, for he raised 
 his hat and courteously thanked "the men of the 
 Second Kentucky." 
 
 The directions to Camp Breckinridge were given 
 by Wharton, and Robert and his men, with throbbing 
 hearts, rode on. The sky was inky black, and a 
 hoarse, rumbling sound seemed to fill the air, as if its 
 mutterings came from every point of the compass. 
 On through wearied regiments, lying with their arms 
 beside them 'neath the fences and bushes, past 
 miles of heavily-laden wagons standing in the road, 
 with their drivers asleep on their seats, and the rest- 
 less mules kicking and braying with impatience for 
 the order to "move on." Now and then an extem- 
 porized hospital, like an Indian wig^vam, with a faint 
 light within, showing the ashy, suffering faces of the 
 wounded, could be seen. That whole night, from the 
 field of Perryville, with its thirsting, moaning wounded, 
 to the camps on Dick River, there was presented to 
 the scouts one continued panorama of the black and 
 horrible side of war. WaiTen felt the undefined ter- 
 ror of his situation increased by the scenes he passed, 
 and he relied upon his men. The men felt the posi- 
 tion, perhaps, more keenly, because their thoughts 
 were less occupied, and they relied upon the captain. 
 
PLUNDERING KENTUCKY. 375 
 
 Many a brilliant victory would have been a terrible 
 defeat were the thoughts and fears of officers and men 
 known to each other, and many a defeat would have 
 turned to success had the officers the same high hopes 
 as the men, or the men as the officers. It is well that 
 half the world is ever in literal and figurative dark- 
 ness as to the other half, and providential that the 
 lights interchange. Had Buell been aware of Bragg's 
 condition immediately after the battle of Perry ville, five 
 thousand well mounted cavalry would have destroyed 
 all the booty the rebels were taking from Kentucky. 
 
 Shortly after daylight the scouts reached Camp Dick 
 Robinson, which they found crowded with stores and 
 raw recruits, who were going out of the State with 
 the rest of Bragg's plunder. Flour, beef, pork, and 
 whisky were scattered around by thousands of barrels. 
 Wagons loaded with the gi'ain, driven by the negroes, 
 and drawn by the horses stolen from Union men 
 were corraled about by hundreds. Quartermasters 
 were busy sending off the supplies, but so blocked 
 were the roads with troops that it was slow work. 
 The fields adjoining the camp were covered with 
 herds of the finest cattle and horses in the State, all 
 waiting for an opening in the line which was march- 
 ing toward Cumberland Gap. 
 
 Strange as it may seem. Captain Warren, after re- 
 porting to Colonel Moore, the officer in command of 
 the camp, was not questioned or assigned to any duty. 
 He and his men, however, made themselves busy load- 
 ing the wagons, and Bragg would have had much more 
 pork and beef and less whisky, when he reached Ten- 
 nessee, had some warmer friend of the Confederacy 
 been in Warren's position. 
 
376 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 In the meantime Robert succeeded in getting ofll 
 two men with information to General Buell of the 
 rebel position and condition. 
 
 The second day after the arrival of the scouts a 
 Sody of cavalry entered the camp to destroy the 
 j?tores and gather up the recruits who were unassigned. 
 Captain Warren protested against the burning of the 
 stores until they were certain no more could be got 
 ofl^ and so energetic was he in loading to the utmost 
 and sending off wagons that the officer in charge 
 complimented his ardor and acquiesced. After a time 
 Moore insisted on firing the camp, and with the same 
 earnestness Captain Warren offered to help. While 
 the flames went up from piles of stores the sound of 
 firing came in from the direction of Danville. By 
 twos, threes, and dozens, as the firing increased, the 
 rebels left the blazing camp, till barely one hundred 
 men, under Moore, remained, and these were hard at 
 work, utterly ignorant that their arras had gone off in 
 a wagon that left camp. The time had come to make 
 himself known, and at a signal Captain Warren and 
 his men gathered on the Danville entrance to the 
 camp, and, fastened to a saber, they displayed the 
 Stars and Stripes. Moore, who was a thoroughly brave 
 man, saw it, and called on his men to- mount and 
 charge. Charge they did, without arms and through 
 a line of fire, past which Moore succeeded in getting 
 with a few of his men. The rest retreated into camp 
 and surrendered. Leaving a few men to save all the 
 property they could and to guard the prisoners, the 
 captain followed up the line of retreat, gathering up 
 scores of drunken men and stragglers, who were vainly 
 trying to follow the retreating line. Robert knew 
 
SAFE RETURN. 377 
 
 that the rebel rear was guarded by reliable troops 
 that had not yet passed, so he wisely fell back toward 
 Camp Dick Robinson with his prisoners, where he 
 found the cavalry of Buell's advance. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIII, 
 
 THE LOST SISTER. 
 
 Captain Robert Warren was openly thanked by the 
 general commanding for his conduct at Pen-yville and 
 during the pursuit to Camp Dick Robinson and Crab 
 Orchard, a pursuit that proved fruitless, as a whole, 
 to the Union Army. 
 
 Since Robert had read Gasting's letter he often 
 thought of his sister, and made inquiries of the doc- 
 tors who had been on duty in Nashville, but he did 
 not obtain the slightest clue to her whereabouts, and 
 he began to fear she was dead. He succeeded in 
 obtaining a ten days* leave of absence about the 
 middle of the month, when he started for Louisville 
 and instituted a search through the provost marshals 
 stationed in the towns and garrisons from Louisville 
 south. He advertised in the papers and had editorial 
 notice called to the case, but six days passed and his 
 inquiries brought no response, and the faint hope of 
 ever seeing his sister died out. While at Louisville 
 his cousin Allen wrote him from home, where he was 
 spending a short leave, asking him to run up to Jes- 
 samine and stay a few days with him before rejoining 
 his command. Robert was anxious to see his uncle 
 and tender his sympathies to the old man in his 
 affliction. He availed himself of the invitation bjr 
 starting at once. It was g short ride by the railroad 
 
THE OLD KENTUCKY HOME. *79 
 
 to Nicholasville, and, reaching there, he was fortu- 
 nate in finding Allen in the town with a conveyance. 
 
 The beautiful home on the Kentucky seemed sadly 
 changed since the lovely spring morning, more than 
 a year before, when Robert arrived from Texas. The 
 grove approaching the house had been the camp- 
 ground of the rebel Greneral Ledbetter's command, 
 and the ground was strewn with the debris and useless 
 impedimenta which seems to mark every camp-ground. 
 The sward was blackened and scarred by camp-fires, 
 and the smaller trees and shrubs were bent and torn 
 to form shelters for the troops. The fences were 
 tumbled do^Mi, and the burned remnants of rails were 
 scattered about. The flower beds and mossy-edged 
 walks, once watched with taste and care, were un- 
 weeded and ragged, and the deep prints of horses' 
 hoofs marked the lawn to the very threshold. The 
 house itself, so quaint and irregular, with its archi- 
 tectural sm'prises and ivy-covered gables, looked 
 gloomy and desolate. The blinds were down and the 
 shutters closed, while the wind, wintry and cutting, 
 moaned through the trees, sweeping the brown locust 
 leaves in heaps about the gallery and whistling with 
 a saddening sound about the high, brown chimnies. 
 Inside Robert found the once bright Bell, pale and 
 careworn, her face wearing an expression of sadness 
 and age, that the deep mourning dress increased. His 
 uncle was much depressed, and greeted Robert in a 
 low, tremulous voice, as if afraid to wake some loved 
 sleeper vdiose rest depended on quiet. 
 
 The merits of the Union and States' rights questions 
 were no longer matters for discussion, and even Bell 
 avoidedt hem. They spoke of Russell, the generous. 
 
380 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 impulsive boy, so honest in his convictions, so noble 
 even in his erring acts. A few days before Robert's 
 arrival they buried Russell on the steep banks of the 
 river he loved so well, and one sweet girl from a 
 neighboring plantation left the freshly-covered grave 
 with a breaking heart. Poor Agnes Ludlow ! she 
 sank from that day. The doctors called her sickness 
 a decline, but, like many girls who dropped quietly 
 away during the years of strife, her death-wound 
 came from the battle-field. 
 
 Mr. Warren's great loss in the campaign of Bragg 
 was his young, bright boy ; but in addition he suf- 
 fered greatly in his worldly goods. The Confederates 
 had a maxim which they invariably carried out to the 
 letter. If a civilian had anything they desired or 
 needed they took it, saying, "If you are in favor of 
 the Confederacy, you will give this willingly to secure 
 success. K you are in favor of the Yankees, you 
 deserve to lose it." The cattle, horses, and negroes 
 were taken without receipt by Bragg's quartermasters. 
 The granaries were depleted, and the wagons taken 
 to carry off the grain. Even the park where Mr. 
 Warren kept his deer was unfenced by Ledbetter's 
 men, and the animals shot in very wantonness. Bell 
 acknowledged during that first evening that the Con- 
 federates were not the noble, chivalric men she had 
 imagined, though she could not help adding : 
 
 " I am sm-e the Yankees would have been worse.'* 
 
 Mr. Warren deplored his afflictions as too severe for 
 
 one who stood aloof and looked impartially on the 
 
 contest. After making suxih a statement, Robert said : 
 
 "You will pardon me, uncle, but it is impossible 
 
 for any American to be neutral in this struggle. Ho 
 
A DIVIDED HOUSE. 38i 
 
 may imagine himself to be so, but his sympathies 
 are with one side or the other. I have made it a rule— 
 and I think it safe— that when a man is neutral or 
 doubtful, set him down as opposed to you." 
 
 *' You are not just to me, Kobert," said the old man» 
 leaning his head on his hand and sighing; "no man 
 is before me in his love for the Government, but it 's 
 very hard to go against one's friends and interests.'* 
 
 "God knows how keenly I have felt that, father," 
 said Allen as he gently took his father's thin hand in 
 his. "Had Russell fought by my side I could not 
 have loved him more, and in the very heat of battle, 
 opposed to me as he was, I would have died to save 
 him. But no matter where a man was born, or what 
 blood runs in his veins, if he casts down what honor 
 and patriotism call on me to uphold, that man is my 
 foe while he resists, and it is my duty to oppose him." 
 
 "It seems to me our family in Texas and here has 
 been fearfully afflicted— more so than any I know of, 
 
 thoughIthink,notexceptingpoor Russell, thatwe have 
 all tried to do our duty," said Robert, as he rose and 
 opening a widow, gazed out on the bleak woods and 
 neglected grounds. 
 
 The conversation was changed a dozen times, but 
 ever and anon the subject uppermost in each mind 
 would come to the surface, and the war with its horrors 
 was the fruitful theme. 
 
 Robert staid twenty-four hours at his uncle's, and 
 desiring to visit Perryville to look for Gaines and 
 Tennessee, with his father, old Dawn, he determined 
 to leave so as to reach his command promptly on the 
 expiration of his short leave of absence! His re- 
 ception had been so kind, and Bell so much like the 
 
382 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 sweet girl he had kissed adieu that sturixiy ujgut at 
 Gonzelletta, when he started north, that he felt very 
 sad at parting, and prayed that another young soldier, 
 dear to his cousin, might be spared by the Union bullets. 
 
 Buell's army, after its fatiguing, fruitless pursuit, 
 returned to Lebanon, where it was again organizing 
 to retrace its steps South. Robert proceeded to Per- 
 ryville at once, hoping to see his friends. Reaching 
 there, he found Dr. Hatchett acting as post surgeon, 
 and from him he learned that the three men in whom 
 he was so much interested were living and in the 
 hospital, a Baptist church in the village. The doctor 
 was a kind-hearted Christian gentleman, and a Ken- 
 tuckian. lie volunteered to accompany Robert, and 
 as they entered the church they met, 'mid the crowd 
 of wounded men sitting about the door, old Dawn, 
 with his grey head so disguised by plasters and band- 
 ages as to be hardly recognizable. He was smoking 
 a corn-cob pipe, and entertaining his interested audi- 
 tors by an eulogy of Andrew Jackson, and an account 
 of the Cherokee Indians, among whom he was raised. 
 The old man recognized the captain first, and spring- 
 ing from his seat with the activity of a young man, 
 he seized Robert's hand, and in a voice filled with 
 honest earnestness he said : '"Fore heaven, cap, I 'm 
 glad to see yeh. Dogond if I do n't feel all right this 
 minute !" Then dropping his voice he asked : 
 
 "How is he? Did ther boy come out squar?" 
 
 "You mean little Ned?" said the captain. 
 
 " Yes, him ; I'vr; been right smart riled a thinkin* 
 on him." 
 
 "He is safe and sound ; I had him made a sergeant 
 after Perry viUe.' ' 
 
THE WOUNDED SCOUTS. 383 
 
 ** Now, I swar," said the old man, looking around on 
 the group of soldiers, ' ' who 'd have thought of my 
 little boy bein' a sargin. Keckon the doctor '11 let 
 me start back right off — I never felt better in my life." 
 
 The doctor laughed heartily at this, and promised 
 that if the old man took care of himself he would be 
 able to return in ten days. 
 
 "Wall, doc, jis' say what I've got to do, and by 
 the ghost of old Andrew I'll git right down to it." 
 
 " Where is Tennessee?" asked Kobert, as he stepped 
 into the hospital." 
 
 " Poor Jim !" said the old man, "the rebs jist went 
 for him heavy." 
 
 The doctor and Eobert, accompanied by the old 
 man, walked down the long avenue of cots with their 
 pale, suffering occupants. Near where the pulpit once 
 stood they stopped before a bed that was made on 
 the floor, and beside which two nurses knelt, one of 
 them holding the long, wasted arm of Tennessee. 
 Robert could scarcely believe the evidence of his 
 senses. The long, yellow beard had been cut off, and 
 the thick, sim-bumed hair, that once gave a leonine 
 apppearance to the scout, was shaved closely. The 
 blue eyes, so full of humor and kindness, now glared 
 with, the expression of a maniac, and from the long, 
 full face the flesh had fallen away, leaving the browt 
 skin drawn tight on the prominent cheek-bones. 
 
 Robert knelt down, the tears starting from his eyes, 
 and in a voice gentle as a woman's whispered, " Ten- 
 nessee, Tennessee, my brave boy ! do you know me?" 
 The large eyes rolled, and Tennessee stared wildly 
 around, then tried to disengage his arm. 
 
 ♦*The ball passed from right to left througli both 
 
384 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 lungs," said the doctor. Ninety-nine men out of a 
 hundred would have died at once, but he is a giant. 
 This unfortunate fever ha§ shaken the hopes I had 
 for his recovery. A speedy change must come, cap- 
 tain ; he cannot last many hours." 
 
 " Is it brave? Is it squar', tell me, yeh houn's?" 
 Tennessee turned his head as he raved, and for an 
 instant he seemed to recognize the captain. Then 
 the glare came back, and in an intense whisper, as if 
 speaking under some strong, suppressed excitement, 
 he said : 
 
 " Let me out, damn yeh ! Let me out an' I '11 come 
 back ! Oh God, they 're a-drownded ! Don 't cuss me 
 so, Cap ! Here, look in at Jim. Dawn's heart. Ain't 
 it clean? I didn't mean ter harm yeh, afore God." 
 
 Here Tennessee struggled to free ]iis hand and ex- 
 pose his heart, but the nurses restrained him. The 
 doctor succeeded in forcing some medicine between 
 the thin, ashy lips, flecked with foam. Then he knelt 
 and felt the pulse for a minute or more. Gradually the 
 eyes closed, and two little streams of dark blood 
 trickled from the open nostrils. 
 
 Old Dawn became so excited that the doctor had 
 him removed, and Robert promised to see him again. 
 
 " Doctor, that man dying there is one of the few 
 men in this world that I would feel willing to die for. 
 He has been everything that a brave, generous, noble- 
 hearted man could be. I feel as if his death would 
 kill me. For God's sake, doctor, save him ! " 
 
 The tears rose to Robert's eyes, and the kind-heai ted 
 doctor led him away. When they got into the open 
 air, the doctor said : 
 
 " It would be foolish to deceive you with a hope. 
 
THE WOUNDED SCOUTS. S85 
 
 Everything has been done for this man, and if he 
 should recover I will regard it as nothing short of a 
 miracle. However, you can depend upon me to the 
 extent of my power." 
 
 Robert thanked the doctor, and as they walked 
 through the town, he met a number of his wounded 
 men hobbling around and carrying their arms in 
 slings. Among the latter was " Indian Nation,'* and 
 he expressed in his exaggerated, Western way, his 
 feelings at seeing the captain. 
 
 " We didn't bury Aleck Cameron on the field, Cap. 
 Some of us boys toted him back. He 's fixed up thar 
 on the hill, vmder that black rock. And afore we 
 leave we 're a go in' to cut his name thar. Poor Aleck, 
 he was jest game.'* 
 
 " Indeed was he. No braver man is left," said the 
 captain, shaking Indian Nation's unwounded hand. 
 
 Gaines had been promoted to a lieutenancy for 
 gallant conduct at Perryville. Robert would have 
 called on him first, but he had to pass the church 
 where Tennessee lay w^ounded, in order to reach the 
 private residence used as an ofiicers' hospital, where 
 Gaines lay with a shattered leg. 
 
 He was delighted to see Robert, and despite his 
 great suffering, he bore up with a cheerfulness which 
 surprised his friend, for hitherto he seemed to act 
 without much feeling, and simply from the motive of 
 duty. 
 
 He spoke of his wound in a light way, assured the 
 captain, and appealed to the doctor to corroborate his 
 statement that he would be about in a few days. 
 
 "But, Gaines, old boy," said the captain, "where 
 were you wounded? I have an indistinct recollection 
 33 
 
386 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 of seeing you in the advance when we charged on 
 Gilbert's front." 
 
 *' Yes, I was ahead. The fact is, I got beside my- 
 self, and made a bee-line for a rebel flag. I got it, 
 and the next instant I felt my leg crack like a pipe- 
 stem, and down I went. You were then to the left. 
 The line began to fall back, and I begged some of 
 the Missourians, with whom we were mixed up, to carry 
 me back. They did so, and I hung on to the colors 
 like a child to a Christmas toy. I was taken to our 
 rear, and lay for hours on the field. I must say I 
 thought about dying at times, when I fainted with 
 the heat and loss of blood. By the way, Robert, here 
 are the colors." 
 
 Gaines drew from under his pillow a barred flag, 
 tattered by balls and stained with blood. The blue 
 ground had a lone star in the center, and in heavy 
 letters on the white stripe were the words, "Presented 
 by the ladies of Fort Bend to Company F, Eighth 
 Texas Cavalry." 
 
 " This, indeed, is a prize worth struggling for. Let 
 me congratulate you on capturing the colors of the 
 best men in the Southern army." 
 
 ** Seriously, I did not know to what regiment they 
 belonged, all were fighting dismounted. I think I 
 must have been crazy when I started. However, that 
 is all past. I was sorry to hear of your cousin's death. 
 What have you heard from home ?" 
 
 Eobert related his fruitless search for his sister, and 
 also told Gaines that he was then en route to Labanon 
 to join • the remnant of his company. Gaines was 
 sanguine about his speedy return to the front. After 
 Kobert had congratulated him on his promotion, and 
 
A REVEREND REBEL. 387 
 
 tendered his kindly services, he bade his old friend 
 good-bye, and promising to write as often as possible, 
 he returned to the hospital. Tennessee was asleep, 
 his long arms stretched by his side, his mouth open, 
 and only the slowly-heaving breast indicated life. 
 
 Robert knelt beside the cOt for a short time 
 w^ith bowed head ; then he rose, and fearing to touch 
 the thin, skeleton-like hand, lest it might arouse the 
 sleeper, he walked quietly away. He gave Old Dawn, 
 whom he met outside, a little money for his own 
 w^ants, and begging the doctor to write him at once 
 if Tennessee died, he mounted and started for Leb- 
 anon. 
 
 South again the Army turned, jaded and broken by 
 fruitless marches and indecisive encounters. Bragg 
 had entered East Tennesse in safety, and was moving 
 around by Chattanooga and Stevenson to confront the 
 Union forces again in Middle Tennessee. 
 
 At the little town of Evansville Robert met some 
 relatives of Mrs. Boardman, all of whom sympathized 
 with the cause of the Confederacy. He told them of 
 the sufferings of the Union people in Texas, and 
 spoke of his fears as to the safety of Mrs. Boardman 
 and Amy. 
 
 The Rev. William McArthur, a cousin of Mrs. 
 Boardman, offset Robert's account by describing the 
 advent and exit of Jim Brownlow's troops in their 
 village. The clergyman spoke in a voice of holy in- 
 dignation. 
 
 *' Providence, for some wise purpose best known to 
 Him, Captain "Warren, afflicted us a week since with 
 the First Tennessee Cavalry. Col. Johnson, or "Bob 
 Johnson,' ^ as his men call him, is supposed to com- 
 
388 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 raand that collection of most vile men. Johnson is 
 a son of that very bad man, the Yankee governor of 
 Tennessee. Brownlow is lieutenant-colonel ; his 
 met call him ' Jim ;' he is the son of the parson ; 
 thank God, there are not many such clergymen !" and 
 the Rev. Mc Arthur, of the Cumberland Presbyterians, 
 raised his eyes in the direction supposed to indicate 
 the location of heaven. Then he continued, with a 
 sanctimonious sigh: "Those vile, unorganized men, 
 six hundred strong, entered our peaceful village on 
 the holy Sabbath day. I purposed holding worship in 
 my church that night, but my dear parishioners, 
 knowing the vile religious tenets of Brownlow, and 
 the utterly degraded character of Johnson, restrained 
 me. The officers stopped at Davis's Hotel. Mr. Da- 
 vis is a most excellent man, and a cousin of his ex- 
 cellency President Davis. The men were scattered 
 around, quartered on the people, and any opposition 
 to their wishes resulted in coarse language and threats. 
 They changed their old, broken-down horses for the 
 best in the place, and even mine, presented by my 
 people, was not beyond their avarice. He was a beau- 
 tiful, faithful horse ; a child could drive him. In his 
 place there is a huge, bony skeleton, spavined, back 
 sore, and with a tendency to bite that is fearful, and 
 a habit of lying down in harness if he hears a pistol 
 fired. It is not of this I complain, Captain Warren, 
 hard as it is to bear," said the Rev. McArthur in a 
 reproving tone, as he noticed the symptoms of a smile 
 about the captain's mouth. " The worst is to come. 
 Johnson demanded whisky from Mr. Davis, which that 
 gentleman prudently withheld. Thereupon Johnson, 
 who occupied the parlor and sat on the sofa with a 
 
GRIEYANCES. 389 
 
 chair supporting each of his legs, sent for Mr. Davis, 
 and, handing him the sacred book, presented by his 
 Sunday-school class, and i^hich Mr. Davis has ever 
 prized and kept as a parlor ornament, he said : * Your 
 name is Davis ?' in a coarse, insulting tone. 
 
 ♦ ' * It is,' replied Mr. Davis, firmly. 
 
 *' * You refuse to give me whisky,' said Johnson. 
 
 *' * As proprietor of this Jiotel I cannot sell liquor on 
 the Sabbath day,' answered Mr. Davis. 
 
 " * Who the devil dared to ask you to violate your 
 principles, sir? I want whisky for nothing. Now, 
 you \e got to swear you have none in this shanty, or 
 I'll raise a rumpus that'll make your head swim.' 
 
 **Mr. Davis, of course, refused to swear, and there- 
 upon Johnson called for his comrade, Brownlow. To 
 him he exaggerated the supposed offense of Mr, Davis, 
 and then said : 
 
 " * Now, Jim, if you were in ray place, what would 
 you do with this man?' 
 
 " ' Do ! ' said Brownlow, in a drunken voice. ' Why, 
 Bob, I 'd just gag the old chap and send him to jail.* 
 
 " ' You see the advantage of a good lieutenant- 
 colonel, Mr. Davis,' said Johnson. Then calling a 
 sergeant, they sent Mr. Davis to jail. That is, we 
 have no place used for the retaining of criminals 
 here, so they converted the house of God — my 
 church — into a jail ! ' * 
 
 Mr. McArthui^'s voice became tremulous, and he 
 took a cup of water to strengthen himself for his 
 task. 
 
 "I deplore this conduct on the part of Colonel 
 Johnson," said the captain. " In defense of my com- 
 rades, however, I must say, Mr. McArthur, that it is 
 33* 
 
390 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the exception to the rule. We try to treac even our 
 enemies, when captured, .vith consideration." 
 
 "I have not concluded, Captain Warren. Wait 
 till I have told you the whole of this most infamous 
 transaction. Mr, Davis was confined in the church 
 and a guard placed over him. This outrage came to 
 the ears of myself and some brother clergymen, and 
 we repaired at once to the hotel and remonstrated 
 with Colonel Johnson. He felt like relenting, but, 
 unfortunately for us, he submitted the case to Brown- 
 low. I did not like this bad young man's reckless 
 appearance. He turned to me and said : 
 
 " 'You can arrange this matter at once by giving 
 the colonel some whisky. He 's a very moderate 
 drinker ; ten gallons will make him as happy as a 
 lamb and innocent as a dove till morning.' 
 
 " ' That 's so, Jim. If they do the proper thing they 
 can allay my troubled spirit and release from dungeon 
 yon pining man.' As Johnson said this he pointed to 
 an oil painting of Mr. Davis hanging above the piano. 
 
 *' Of course we refused to comply with this request, 
 and were about to withdraw, when Johnson told the 
 sergeant to detain us. 
 
 "'Jim,' he said, turning to Brownlow, 'havn't I 
 the temper of an A No. 1 angel?' 
 
 '" K you don 't know that you 're angelically dis- 
 posed, Bob, it is'nt for want of my telling yoti. I 
 have watched with wondering awe your familiarity 
 and daily intercourse with the spirits.' As Brown, 
 low spoke I trembled at his profanity, but what could 
 be expected from the son of such a father? 
 
 *' ' Now, Jim, what shall we do with these holy 
 men?' asked Johnson. 
 
A COMPROMISE. 391 
 
 "'Put them in jail with the landlord,' said the 
 fiend. And they did, Mr. Warren ; they incarcerated 
 us in the house of prayer." Mr. McArthur showed 
 symptoms of wealaiess, and sipped some more water 
 at this part of the narrative. 
 
 After this, a number, indeed the majority of the 
 gentlemen in town, without regard to church, called 
 on Johnson, and they too were incarcerated in the 
 same way. This was not the worst feature of this 
 most abominable transaction. Our wives went to 
 the brutes in a body and demanded our release, 
 and — would you believe it, Captain Warren, you who 
 wear the uniform those men disgraced ? — they actu- 
 ally sent the ladies to jail, too. I can never forget 
 the agony of that night," and Mr. McArthur pressed 
 his white hand to his brow. 
 
 " But did they keep you in there all night," asked 
 Robert. 
 
 " No," replied Mr. McArthur, " we knelt in prayer, 
 and asked for advice. The enemy had the power and 
 we compromised by letting Mr. Davis give them the 
 whisky. Then we returned to our distracted fami- 
 Ues.'' 
 
 Mr. McArther had told the longest story, and 
 Robert, suppressing his feelings, deplored the horrors 
 of war. 
 
CH'APTEK XXXV. 
 
 THE SCOUTS RE-ENFORCED. 
 
 Back again to Tennessee the Union Army marched, 
 mortified and discouraged by the useless campaign in 
 Kentucky. A feeling of discontent prevailed, and 
 the men lost that confidence which they had after the 
 successes of the previous spring. While General 
 Buell was certainly an accomplished gentleman and 
 a soldier of undoubted bravery, it was wise in the 
 Government to replace him by Rosecrans at that time. 
 The latter officer secured at once the confidence of 
 the troops, both by the reforms he instituted and his 
 previous brilliant record. 
 
 Captain Warren's company was increased by details 
 from other regiments to the number of one hundred 
 and eleven men. As a rule they were well acquainted 
 with the South by a residence therein before the war. 
 Among the men who joined him in the latter part of 
 November was Lieutenant Alfred Richardson, of the 
 Second Middle Tennessee Cavalry. He was the very 
 ideal of a Southern gentleman, of a good family and 
 splendid education. He was about twenty-eight years 
 of age, of middle height, firmly though slightly built, 
 with brown hair and large, dark eyes, with a broad 
 brow, which the sun never seemed to tan. In manner 
 he was somewhat reserved, but toward those whom he 
 esteemed, he was frankness itself. There was a mag- 
 
AN OUTPOST INCIDENT. 393 
 
 netism about Richardson which won men at once, 
 while it seemed to repel familiarity. From the first 
 he and Robert became friends of the strongest kind, 
 for their mutual regard had its foundation in respect. 
 
 The early December came cold and dreary, with 
 its leafless trees, muddy roads, and drizzling rain and 
 sleet. It was just the time when w^arm clothing and 
 cheerful fires in cozy rooms were pleasant. But the 
 Army of the Cumberland was houseless and restless, 
 anxious to measure its strength under a new leader 
 with Bragg. The Confederate troops had made a 
 wonderful march — through southeastern Kentucky and 
 Cumberland Gap into East Tennessee, then down to 
 Chattanooga and around by Stevenson to Murfrees- 
 boro', where they confronted the Union forces. The 
 summer's heat, with dusty roads and exhausting 
 marches, was hard on the troops, but the cool nights 
 of summer brought a respite when men could rest. 
 The winter's constant cold, with muddy camping 
 grounds, leaking tents, and marches when the weary 
 feet seemed covered with cold, liquid lead, was still 
 harder on the men , but they bore all cheerfully after 
 Rosecrans took command. 
 
 One night while Captain Warren's men were doing 
 picket duty for a cavalry force that was raiding in the 
 direction of McMinnville, an incident occurred, the 
 narration of which will throw some light on the con- 
 dition and feeling of the Union soldiers at this time 
 in the South and West. It was a cold night, w4ien 
 the wind seemed to cut every object it struck, and an 
 icy enamel covered everything exposed to its force. 
 Lieutenant Richardson had charge of an advanced 
 picket post on the McMinnville road. Under the brow 
 
894 ^ WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 of the hill on which the pickets were posted, the men 
 had built a fire and piled up a heap of branches to 
 windward to break the force of the northwester. The 
 horses, though blanketed, drew themselves up and 
 shivered and crowded together in a vain effort to 
 keep warm. Robert had charge of a picket front of 
 over half a mile, and as they were close to Fon-est at 
 the time, he exercised more than his usual caution. 
 It was no uncommon occurrence at this time for fugi- 
 tive slaves under cover of the darkness to pass the 
 rebel lines and seek the Union pickets with the hope 
 of protection and liberty. Orders from headquarters, 
 however, made it imperative on the officers into whose 
 commands the furtive came to retain them till their 
 masters came to claim their property. It was galling 
 to many a brave man, who was in favor of or indiffer- 
 ent about slavery, thus to be made a slave-catcher for 
 his enemies. About three o'clock on the night in 
 question Robert visited Richardson's post. The men, 
 with their belts drawn tight and their great-coat col- 
 lars turned up till they met their slouched hats, walked 
 nervously around or crouched before the fire, so cold 
 on one side and smoky on the other that comfort and 
 heat were impossible at the same time. Richardson 
 alone seemed indifferent to the blast ; his face was 
 pale and stem, and he met his captain as he dis- 
 mounted with more than his habitual reserve. On 
 reaching the fire Robert was struck with a group of 
 negroes huddled together and evidently suffering from 
 some great fatigue or over-excitement. There were 
 four, lightly clad and poorly shod ; two men, one 
 quite old, the other about thirty, with a young 
 woman and a child. The woman looked earnestly 
 
ESCAPING FROM BONDAGE. 395 
 
 from face to face, as if about to ask some vital 
 question, wliile she hugged her little one closer 
 to her breast, and drew arounci it the ends of 
 the ragged black shawl in which it was wrapped. 
 The old man had that patriarchal look peculiar to 
 old negroes. His head was perfectly white, and his 
 close, straggling beard and eye-brows of the same 
 color formed a strange contrast to his black face, and 
 looked as if the intense cold had frosted the hair. 
 But the look of painful anxiety on the face, and the 
 blending expression of pain and fright, gave at first 
 sight the impression that his "hair had grown white 
 in a single night, as men have grown through sudden 
 fear." The young man seemed indifferent to the 
 cold. He was powerfully built, and his thin cotton 
 garments served but to show the muscular form they 
 so poorly covered. He sat on the ground beside the 
 young woman, his face resting between his hands, and 
 a stout staff, with a bundle attached, lying on the 
 ground beside him. A thick leather belt was fastened 
 around his waist, between which and his body a heavy 
 hatchet was fastened. He looked the very picture of 
 fierce desperation. His eyes were fixed intently on 
 the fire, unmoved by the fitful flashes with which the 
 cold wind fanned it. The muscles of his face about 
 the high cheek-bones seemed thick and swollen, 
 while the large mouth, with its heavy, compressed 
 lips, looked as if cut out of black marble, 
 
 Robert knew at once- they were fugitives, and a 
 chill not excited by the howling wind passed through 
 him. Approaching the fire he stooped to warm his 
 hands, while he addressed the young black man : 
 
 "Well, boy, where did you come from to-night?'* 
 
396 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The black man raised bis bead and looked with 
 an expression of half supplication and half wonder at 
 Robert, without speaking. Robert repeated his ques- 
 tion, and the negro, prefacing his reply with a sigh, 
 which only the compressed lips had hitherto repressed, 
 said: 
 
 " Mauss, me an' dad an' Sal an' de liddle one have 
 come to you for freedom. You 'se de Yankees, is n't 
 yeh?" 
 
 "Yes, boy, they call us 'Yankees.* Where did 
 you come from ? " 
 
 *' Mauss, it 's a long way off. Fur two days we 've 
 bin in de woods. De young un 's a'most dead, an' dad 
 ain't strong any more. De sale wuz to be yesterday, 
 an' we left fur de Yankees." 
 
 " What do you mean about the sale? " 
 
 •' Why, Mauss Dick wuz killed in Kaintuck. We 
 b'longed to him, an' dey wuz to sell de place yester- 
 day. Sal wuz on anodder place, but I knowed I wuz 
 goin' souf from her an' dad an' de chile, so we left 
 fur de Yanks." 
 
 " Do you know, boy, that the Yankees cannot take 
 care of you. We are not fighting to make the slaves 
 free ; we are fighting for the Union. We must keep 
 you till to-morrow, and if any one comes after you 
 we have orders to send you back to your master." 
 
 As Robert spoke the black man rose to his feet and 
 stood near his wife, who had uttered a low, wailing 
 cry. The lately compressed lips quivered with emo- 
 tion, and the large black eyes fairly flashed, as one 
 strong, muscular hand instinctively clutched the 
 handle of the hatchet. The old man stood up beside 
 his son, and in a tremulous voice, with clasped hands, 
 he said : 
 
A PLEA AND A PROTEST. 397 
 
 **Don't, maiiss; please, do n't ! Dey '11 kill Ike, 
 an' I 'm no good no more ; please do n't, mauss ! " 
 
 The black woman pressed her shining little one 
 more closely and sprang to her ftet with a frightened 
 look in her face, as if ready for flight. Low mutter- 
 ing curses came from the soldiers around the fire, and 
 one of the men gi'owled loud enough for the officers 
 to hear, "If I wore shoulder-straps, damned if I 
 wouldn't resign afore I'd do it. Now them's my 
 feelings." 
 
 " I wish to speak to you, captain," said Richardson, 
 walking away from the fire, his thin lips so firmly set 
 that he seemed to speak with his close white teeth. 
 Robert followed him for twenty yards, when the lieu- 
 tenant turned, and, drawing himself up till he looked 
 nearly as tall as Robert, he asked : 
 
 *' Captain Warren, do you intend turning over those 
 black people till their rebel owners come to claim 
 them?" 
 
 *' They came into your post, lieutenant ; it is for 
 you to do this thing. You know the orders about 
 fugitive slaves ? " 
 
 *' I do, sir, and I blush for the cause in which I am 
 engaged." 
 
 **Well, what do you propose doing?" asked the 
 captain. 
 
 Richardson's voice trembled with indignation as he 
 said: 
 
 *' First, I have made up my mind to place those 
 people beyond the reach of pursuit if in my power, 
 and, in the second place, after we have left the ene^ 
 my's front I intend resigning and tearing off the uni. 
 form of a cause that Grod cannot approve nor honest 
 34 
 
S98 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 men fight for. I will not be made a slave-catcher to 
 conciliate treason." 
 
 " Lieutenant, I feel our position as keenly as you 
 can," said the captain, taking Richardson's hand in 
 his; "but I have always carried out my orders to the 
 letter. I have grown sick of conciliation. I will 
 help you to get these poor people to the rear, but you 
 must not resign, Richardson ; I have not so many 
 friends that I can afford to part with you." 
 
 Richardson returned the pressure of the captain's 
 hand, and the men understood each other better. 
 When they returned to the fire Archy was basy cook- 
 ing coffee, and assuring his colored friends that the 
 captain "would do jes right," and "not to fret yer 
 poor souls out fur noinn'." 
 
 The black man looked earnestly into Richardson's 
 face as they stood near the fire, and the lieutenant, 
 anxious to relieve the suspense of the fugitives, said : 
 
 " Here is your best friend, boy," pointing to Robert. 
 " He has given me liberty to do as I choose with you. 
 I will take you back to the Union camps and then 
 Bend you North, where your rebel o\Miers will never 
 go, except to be despised." 
 
 The old man seized the lieutenant's hand, and with 
 words of homely gratitude pressed it to his lips, while 
 the young man placed his arm about his trembling 
 wife as if to support his own weakness, and then down 
 the face lately so rigid and detennined the hot tears 
 flowed, while Archy, still busy with his coffee, stopped 
 to clasp the hands of his colored friends and to im- 
 press upon them the necessity of "praisin' de Lor', 
 who led de chillen wid de fiah by night." 
 
 The wind seemed less cold by the picket post that 
 
MURFREESBORO'. 39» 
 
 night, and the gloom fled from the faces of the men, 
 who by a hundred little acts of kindness showed the 
 sympathetic bond that unites in distress men of every 
 land and race and creed. 
 
 The expedition to McMinnville resulted in a skir- 
 mish and a withdrawal of the Union cavalry to the 
 main army near Nashville, where a battle was daily 
 expected with Bragg. 
 
 It was nearing Christmas, a time ever suggestive 
 of happy homes and pleasant reunions, but the time 
 brought no rest to the armies edging daily closer 
 together for the contest before Murfreesboro' . In 
 the meantime the cavalry, reorganized under Stanley, 
 checked the daring raids of Morgan and Wheeler, 
 who hitherto had proved a serious annoyance to the 
 Union communications. 
 
 December 31 was a bright, beautiful day; the sun 
 was warm as an early May-day. Rosecrans was ready 
 for the conflict, and his forces were gradually ad- 
 vanced to Stone River, a little northwest of Murfrees- 
 boro', between which town and the river General 
 Bragg, on ground of his own choosing, had posted his 
 sixty-five thousand veterans under Breckinridge, 
 Polk, and Hardee. Opposed to them were Critten- 
 den, Thomas, and McCook, with scarcely fifty thous- 
 and men. For days before the front was one con- 
 tinued skirmish line, and the rear the scene of a 
 score of well-conducted raids under Wheeler, Wharton 
 and Morgan. By daylight Hardee had started the 
 work of slaughter. Crossing the river, which was 
 fordable at every point, preceded by a cloud of shar|i- 
 shooters, Cleburne and Cheatham, with eight brigade^ 
 of infantry, burst from the jungle of cedars and oaks 
 
400 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 before McCook had a thought of their presence, and 
 before twenty minutes the right wing of Rosecrans's 
 army was a routed mob. Johnson's division was lit- 
 erally crushed without striking a blow. Sheridan was 
 the first to rally his men, and Davis quickly came to 
 his aid, but the stubborn courage of those gallant 
 men offered but a temporary resistance to Hardee. 
 The accomplished Sill was- slain early in the fight, 
 and a score of officers like Shaeffer and Roberts were 
 wounded or slain. In the meantime the fighting 
 became general along the front, and the rebels began 
 the old game of doubling the army back upon itself, 
 while their cavalry in swarms pushed to the rear of 
 McCook and Thomas. It was well that Thomas held 
 the ever-unflinching center; well that Negly guarded 
 his right, wdth the heroic Rousseau at his back. 
 Between Negley and McCook the daring rebel Irish- 
 man, Pat Cleburne, led his brigades, intending to 
 annihilate the right, but Negley was more than a match 
 for him. With a determination and valor that entitles 
 him to the proud designation of " the hero of Stone 
 River," he formed left in front and literally crushed out 
 the confident masses of the enemy. But Hardee was not 
 to be deterred. Column after column was hurled against 
 Negley till his overpowered, exhauste^t men were 
 forced through the dense undergrowth *o his rear, 
 and with him the magnificent division of Rousseau. 
 By twelve o'clock the fate of the Union aimy seemed 
 sealed, and as at Shiloh the line, excepting in McCook's 
 front, w^as doubled up and crowded. More thaa this, 
 and worse than Shiloh, four thousand well-mouaied 
 men were actually on the line of retreat to Nashville, 
 destroying the Union trains. In the meantime Sher- 
 
THE CRISIS OF THE BATTLE. 401 
 
 idan had gathered up his men, and from an ammu- 
 nition train, saved by tlie gallant Captain Thruston, 
 replenished the empty cartridge-boxes. On a good 
 position he checked the rebels, while Hazen and Has- 
 call routed the enemy to the .rear, and Hardee with 
 his veteran brigade stood like an impassable barrier 
 to the right. During the day Polk and Hardee made 
 desperate efforts to force back Thomas, but without 
 success, while Crittenden and Breckinridge thundered 
 9tt each other across the river. 
 
 The old year went out with promise of a glorious 
 victory to the South, and of utter annihilation to the 
 arms of the Union. Seven thousand men were killed, 
 wounded, or prisoners, and as many .more useless and 
 demoralized. But with the last toll of the clock that 
 sounded the knell of *62 the shackles fell to the groimd 
 from four millions, of slaves. The time set by Lincoln 
 had expired, and the first sun of '63 saw the Union 
 banner the emblem of Union and Liberty. 
 
 During the night Rosecrans drew back, shortened 
 and strengthened his line, excepting the left, which 
 headed toward Murfreesboro', the key of the rebel 
 position. The new year came, and during the day 
 the troops on both sides fought for position, without 
 coming to close quarters. The anxiety and fatigue 
 of that second day were even worse than the first, 
 and during the black night which followed, the front 
 flashed with one continued blaze between the pickets. 
 The 2d came and with the early dawn the rebels 
 opened a fire so extended and continued that it seemed 
 as if their front were one mighty volcano that belched 
 and hurled out missiles of destruction, before which 
 fences, trees, and the very earth itself was pounded 
 34* 
 
402 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 into splinters and ridges. Sheridan, Rousseau, Thomas, 
 and finally Crittenden opened, and for two terrible 
 hours the earth seemed to tremble beneath the terri- 
 ble blows. Gradually the fire was concentrated on 
 Crittenden, to the left of whose line Captain Warren 
 w^as stationed. One by one the Union guns seemed 
 to answer, and then like magic the gray masses 
 rose from the earth, and, with thrilling yells, Breck- 
 inridge's men, Roger Hanson in the advance, dashed 
 into the cold river, up the muddy banks, and out on 
 the open fields beyond which Palmer and Van Cleve, 
 with Negley from the right, met them. Then began 
 a slaughter unequaled on that bloody field. Hanson 
 fell dead in the lead. Still on the men came till 
 within close range of nine thousand muskets, then 
 the gi'ay lines melted and the fragments in confusion 
 rushed back to the river ; but even here the bank did 
 not save them. They plunged into the water, but it 
 was to find it beaten with spray by the artillery of 
 Van Cleve, and to meet a more certain death 'neath its 
 surface. In the meantime Wharton, now leading a 
 brigade, had crossed the river above and swept down 
 on a train hurrying up to Palmer. The Second Ten- 
 nessee, with Warren's battalion, was ordered to in- 
 tercept him, and at a mad gallop they sped over a 
 corn-field and through a cedar jungle, where they 
 found Wharton in possession of four wagons. The 
 charge sounded, and charge they did, fighting hand to 
 hand around the wagons, which had taken fire and 
 become equally dangerous to both sides. The rebels 
 fell back, Warren rashly following them toward the 
 river, when suddenly a regiment of Wheeler's men 
 rose from the ground. It was too late to turn, and 
 
ROBERT WARREN WOUNDED. 403 
 
 in another instant Don, riderless and wild, dashed into 
 the rebel lines, and Robert Warren, with the hot 
 blood pouring from his mouth, and nose, and breast, 
 lay gasping on the muddy earth, while his routed men 
 fled back toward Van Cleve. 
 
 It was now late in the afternoon, and a cold, pelting 
 rain came driving over the field, while the sound ©f 
 battle died out with the day. 
 
 As Robert fell to the ground his head struck against 
 a stone, and for hours he lay insensible. About tea 
 o'clock he revived and tried to rise, but a choking 
 sensation overcame him. A hard mass seemed to 
 stick in his throat and stop his nostrils ; by a desperate 
 effort he coughed up the obstruction. Then a hot 
 stream poured out of his mouth, and with the distant 
 camp-fires swimming in a circle before his giddy sight 
 he fell fainting to the earth. It is hard for a strong 
 man to die. It is wonderful, even considering their 
 strength, that some of the wounded survived an hour, 
 and equally wonderful, in looking at some of the 
 dead on the battle-field, to see how little it took to 
 kill them. The cold rain beat on Robert Warren's 
 blood-covered face, and he revived again in the dark- 
 ness, and placed his hand on the open gash on the 
 back of his head. He tried to collect his scattered 
 senses. He fell in the charge. He remembered the 
 ambuscade, and the terrible blow in the right breast, 
 and the hot blood pouring from his mouth as hj fell 
 to the ground. • He saw Richardson near him last, and 
 Don flying toward the enemy. He was struck ; and he 
 rose on one arm and felt his breast. The coat was 
 wet and clammy with clotted blood. He searched 
 with his cold fingers and felt the jagged hole so close 
 
404 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 to his heart, that as he inserted his finger he wondered 
 that he lived. He could not last long. He managed 
 to open his coat and thrust his hand inside the bloody 
 shirt, and felt the hole with fragments of his clothing 
 sticking about the wound. He was fearfully cold and 
 stiff. Thoughts of home and Amy, and another 
 worldly object, chased each other through his reeling 
 brain. There were camp fires gleaming beyond. He 
 could not tell the direction. The enemy might be 
 there. But it mattered not, he could leave his dying 
 requests, even with the enemy, and die near their fire 
 
 Where was Archy? He managed to rise, but again 
 the camp-fires seemed to swim around him, and the 
 choking sensation came as he tried to breathe. He 
 opened his mouth and gasped, while the cold, cutting 
 air entered the open wound. He took a few steps, 
 reeling like a drunken man, when he stopped and 
 pressed his hand to his head. He heard a voice near 
 him ; the sound seemed to revive him, though it was 
 the groan of a wounded man. 
 
 " Where are you?" he gasped, and, dropping on his 
 hands and knees, he crawled in the direction of the 
 sound. 
 
 "Here, here, friend. Oh, G-od, help me !" 
 
 "I am coming, friend ; where 's your hand — your 
 hand?" 
 
 " Shattered, broken. 0, for one drink of water !" 
 Still around Robert's shoulders hung his double-flasked 
 canteen. He had forgotten that. There was brandy 
 in one side, water in the other. Grroping in the 
 darkness, he reached the groaning man. 
 
 " Here is brandy, friend, drink," he said, holding 
 out the canteen. 
 
FRIENDS IN DISTRESS. 406 
 
 *' Oh, thanks — God bless you ! Put it to my lips," 
 said the wounded man. Could it be there was a mor- 
 tal more suffering, more helpless than himself? Rob- 
 ert could not raise the womided man's head, but he 
 placed the canteen to his cold lips, and the stranger 
 drank, with a sigh of relief. Then Robert, coughing 
 up the clotted blood which every instant threatened 
 to choke him, took a mouthful of the brandy, and in 
 a few seconds his cold extremities began to experience 
 sensation. He lay down beside the wounded soldier 
 and asked, as he adjusted his head : 
 
 *' Where are you hit, friend?" 
 
 " In the spine or shoulders, I do n't know just which, 
 I cannot move. Oh, God ! if I could only sleep or die. 
 Are you wounded?" 
 
 " Yes, shot through the breast. Mustered out, I 
 fear. What's your regiment ?" 
 
 "Fifth Tennessee, Wheeler. Have we won?*' 
 
 "I hope not, friend; I'm a Yankee. Take more 
 brandy." 
 
 The wounded man drank again, and as Robert re- 
 moved the flask he said : 
 
 "God bless you, friend ! Take my hand in yours.'* 
 
 Robert took the hand, small as a woman's and 
 colder than his own, in his. 
 
 ' ' I hate no man ; I never knew an enemy till the 
 war." 
 
 " Nor I, and God knows I hate none for fighting me 
 bravely," said Robert, sti-etching his stiff limbs beside 
 the wounded Tenneseean. 
 
 For some time both men were quiet, then the stran- 
 ger turned his head and asked : 
 
 "Friend, do you still hold my hand?" 
 
406 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "I do." 
 
 "Grod bless you ; I want some one near me when 
 I die. I have a mother." 
 
 "So have I, friend, a noble mother.'* 
 
 The powerless hand of the stranger still rested cold 
 in Robert's. 
 
 "Promise me — but first your name." 
 
 •'My name is Robert Warren. I commanded a 
 battalion of scouts in the Union Army, but I feel as 
 if I had led them for the last time." 
 
 **God forbid, Grod forbid, my friend; but promise 
 me, if you live,- to have me buried where my mother 
 can get my body ; save some of my hair. Frazer — 
 Franklin " 
 
 The wounded man stopped talking, and Robert 
 placed his hand on his forehead, forgetting for a time 
 his own intense suffering and his thoughts of death. 
 
 " He is dead," he whispered to himself. 
 
 **No ; dying, dying. Tell Jennie I thought of her 
 
 and the boys, the boys " Again the voice, that 
 
 seemed to come from a lifeless corpse, ceased, and at 
 the same time Robert felt the teiTible choking sensa- 
 tion and tried to rise, but he fell, with the hot blood 
 pouring from his wound, beside the dead Tennesseean. 
 
 Moments of painful consciousness, each growing 
 less distinct, during the long hours ; a burning thirst, 
 which he was too weak to gi'atify, parched his dry 
 throat, where the choking lump seemed ever rising. 
 
 Day came, cold, foggy, and rainy. For a time he 
 struggled to retain consciousness, hoping for the de- 
 tails to pass, but gradually the hope and the senses 
 died out, and Robert Warren, with his bloody face 
 turned upward, lay beside the dead Tennesseean. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVI 
 
 THE FIELD AFTER THE BATTLE. 
 
 Slowly the gray dawn came through the clouds 
 above and the fog beneath, revealing the mangled 
 forms and upturned faces of the dead, clad in blue 
 and gray, sleeping so calmly side by side, dying per- 
 haps with such mutual words of comfort that the 
 angels that carried them up did not look on them as 
 foes. Moving rapidly through the mist, the details 
 searched for the wounded that fearful morning, find- 
 ing more often the dead. But few wounded men 
 could survive that night of cold and storm ; it chilled 
 the blood of the most robust. So the details with 
 their stretchers carried ofif the dead. Now they lifted 
 from the wet ground a slender, boy-like form, with a 
 shattered arm dangling by his side, and a pool of 
 black blood where he lay, but no expression of the 
 agony he had felt on the smooth, pale face and blue 
 lips. A light load — so they lay the boy across the 
 stretcher, and pick up a tall, bearded man. His 
 head drops back as they raise him, and the white 
 bones glisten through the mangled tliroat, where the 
 terrible grape-shot crashed. Back to the trenches, 
 called graves, the two damp-looking soldiers walk with 
 their load, and range them above the pit for search 
 and recognition. The details are swarming in the di- 
 rection where Breckinridge charged along Stone River 
 
408 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 with its cold, inky current emerging from and rolling 
 down into the gray mist. There are dead men lying 
 on the bloody stones, with the black water laving 
 head or feet. In death they are clinging to the pro- 
 truding branches of the skeleton-looking tree that 
 rises and dips in the flood. But on the muddy, slippery 
 bank, plowed into ridges by that unequaled artillery 
 storm, and across the corn-field, beaten into mortar 
 by five thousand hurrying feet, there are dead men in 
 groups, where they rallied in line, where they charged, 
 and singly, close up to the Union guns, carried there 
 by despfirate valor. Still up the river, near the scrub- 
 oak jungle, there are dead horses and blue-clad forms 
 lying around. The details clear the ground as they 
 advancft. Two men of the Eighteenth Kentucky are 
 approaching the ground where General Wharton at- 
 tacked the wagons, and Warren with the Tennesseeans 
 charged. Suddenly they are startled by a cry that 
 sends the blood in cold waves back to their hearts. 
 It comes from the open space beyond the jungle, and 
 the two men hurry to the spot, where a huge negro, 
 the very picture of fierce despair, sits on the ground^ 
 holding in his arms the inanimate form of a tall 
 young soldier. The hat is off, the black hair is lank 
 and bloody, and the upper teeth are driven, as if in 
 some mortal agony, or struggle with death, into the 
 still clenched, bleeding under lip. 
 
 ♦' Oh, Grod, let me die ! Oh, Mauss Robut, my life, 
 my bi-udder ! speak to me. I'm Archy ! Oh, Lor' ob 
 Israel, help me now ! help me ! help me ! " And the 
 black man swept back the matted hair and kissed the 
 broad forehead, and rubbed the brown, cold hands. 
 
 "Hello, boy! what's wrong here?" asked one of 
 
WARREN RESCUED. 409 
 
 the men as they approached the black man with their 
 stretcher. 
 
 " Oh, come, quick. Come, dis is Maiiss Robut ! 
 Captain Warren ! Don't let him die. God '11 bless 
 yeh ! Oh, don 't let Mauss Robut die ! " 
 
 One of the men placed his hand on the pulse, kneel- 
 ing beside the body, and in a sad voice said : 
 
 " It 's a pity ! I 've seen this man when alive, and I 
 never looked on a handsomer horseman." 
 
 " Oh, don 't talk so. It '11 kill me. He ain 't dead. 
 Oh, carry him, tote him to the doctor's. I'll carry 
 one end. Don 't let Mauss Robut die in de cold. 
 Dar, he's bleedin' now.'* 
 
 As Archy spoke, the red cun-ent began to flow 
 again from the captain's mouth, and the soldier 
 kneeling near him opened the drooping eyelid, then 
 laying his ear on the bloody coat above the captain 's 
 heart, he rose hurriedly, and with an excited oatk^ 
 said to his companion : 
 
 " He's alive, Ned. Off with your coat and throw 
 it on the stretcher," As the soldier spoke, he pulled 
 off* his own great-coat and laying it on Frazer's dead 
 body, he and Archy lifted the captain on the stretcher. 
 Then they wi'apped the great-coat around him, while 
 Archy nearly denuded himself to cover up his mas- 
 ter's breast and shoulders. They were about to move 
 off* when Archy saw the captain's canteen lying beside 
 the dead Confederate, a handsome, gentle-looking 
 boy. He took the canteen and poured a little of the 
 brandy it still contained between his master's lips, 
 and then bathed the gashed head with the rest, an 
 operation the soldiers said was '* a good idea," though 
 they mentally noted it a very wicked waste of brandy. 
 35 
 
410 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Reckon the captain and that reb drank out of the 
 same canteen last night. Bleeding makes all men 
 friends. Some poor woman will go sooner to her 
 grave for that boy," pointing to Frazer. " Ned, if 
 the captain gits well, I '11 bet five dollars he 'd like to 
 know where that boy 's covered in." 
 
 Ned was of the same opinion, and agreed they 
 should return to bury Frazer by himself. 
 
 Archy did not shiver in the cold rain, though with 
 only a shirt upon his breast and shoulders. He took 
 the heavy end of the stretcher, and told the soldiers, 
 "I'll keer fur this, please Grod, if you two '11 tote the 
 res', if I 've got to walk all day." 
 
 About five hundred yards down the river, near the 
 ruins of the burned bridge, they found an ambulance 
 with a representative of the Sanitary Commission, a 
 kind-hearted young clergj^man. He helped them to 
 take off the wet, bloody garments, and replaced them 
 with dry ones, shaking his head as he did so, and 
 murmuring his fears that their labor was useless. 
 
 *' Oh, no, mauss. Don't say dat. Mauss Robut 's 
 so good an' l.ave. What'd de war do if he died?" 
 and Archy bathed the head while the young clergy- 
 man applied some restoratives. The detail remained 
 till they saw the first quiver of returning life on the 
 bloody lips. Then they donned their overcoats, and 
 went again to their painful duty. 
 
 The ambulance started back with Archy inside, 
 trying, as he knelt, to ease the jarring as they passed 
 over the ruts, and to keep the covering around his 
 master's form. During this ride, as he afteward ex- 
 pressed it, he " had a fearful struggle wid de Lor' fur 
 de life ob Mauss Robut." He supplicated Heaven if 
 
AT THE FIELD HOSPITAL. 411 
 
 a life was necessary to take his, and " spare de young 
 mauss." Past dismounted guns and dismembered 
 wagons, by long trenches with their rows of dead, 
 and at last the ambulance stopped before a large tent, 
 inside of which a number of doctors, covered with 
 blood, stood around an amputating table, looking, in 
 the misty light, like savage butchers. 
 
 " Where must I take this man ? " asked the driver. 
 One of the doctors stepped quickly out, and, mount- 
 ing the ambulance, pushed Archy aside, while he cut 
 open the vest the young clergyman had put on the 
 wounded man. He examined the wound, felt behind 
 for the exit of the ball, listened to the faint beating 
 of the heart, counted the languid pulsations at the 
 wrist, and then, covering up the terrible hole with the 
 blanket, he said, as he descended from the ambu- 
 lance : 
 
 " It does not make much difference where you go ; 
 that man can 't live. The wonder is that he shows 
 any signs of life." 
 
 Archy was usually gentle as a child in his manner, 
 but the words of the doctor nettled him, and in an 
 excited tone he put his head out of the ambulance 
 and shouted after the retreating doctor : 
 
 " I do n't believe yeh know nothin' ; Mauss Robut 
 will live in spite of yeh." 
 
 «' What is your master's name?" asked a doctor, 
 who seemed to be directing the operations inside the 
 tent. 
 
 "Warren, sah— Captain Robert Warren," said 
 Arcl^y, in a pleading tone. 
 
 The doctor gave a few hurried instructions to those 
 baside, then sprang into the ambulance, and, looking 
 
412 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 at the death-like face, in a tone that won Archy*s 
 heart he said : 
 
 *' Poor Warren, they have struck close to your great 
 warm heart." 
 
 Then he gave the driver directions, and, as they 
 rolled over the ground to a plantation in the distance, 
 Archy told Doctor Hatchett where he had found his 
 master, and as he concluded he took the doctor's 
 hand and said, in a voice he always assumed when 
 praying : 
 
 " Please tell me he '11 lib, doctah ! Jes' say so 
 once ! " 
 
 *' I cannot promise that, boy. But he is a strong 
 man. His pulse is improving. Wonder he has a 
 drop of blood left. By the way, boy, did you know 
 Tennessee?'* 
 
 *' Tennessee ! " echoed Archy. "Well, mauss, I 
 jes' reckon I knowed Tennessee. He wuz our frien', 
 shuah. Do n't 'spose we'll eber see 'im agin/' 
 
 " Yes, boy, ?/oM will, no doubt, see him again. I 
 would pronounce the captain's wound fatal were it 
 not for the miraculous recovery of that man Tennes- 
 see." 
 
 ** De Lor' is workin' miracles now as in de days ob 
 de pillah ob fiah," said Archy, reverently. 
 
 *'Yes, boy, without His watchful care I fear it 
 would be dark indeed." 
 
 As the doctor ceased speaking the ambulance 
 stopped before a large house, on the gallery of which 
 a number of officers, with arms in slings or wounded 
 about the head, were lamenting the noble Sill and 
 chivalrous Garasch^. They gathered to see the new 
 arrival, and an assistant came with a stretcher to help 
 
PROBING FCR THE BALL. 413 
 
 Archy in with the body. There were kind words and 
 expressions of sorrow from the soldiers, who for the 
 time forgot their own wounds. 
 
 *'He got it in front," said one. 
 
 " Wonder he did n't die on the field last night. It 
 makes me shiver to think how he suffered," said an- 
 other ; while a third, looking for an instant at the face, 
 said : 
 
 *'By Heaven, men, that's Warren. That's the 
 chap I spoke about. It made my hair rise to see him 
 fly at those Texans. I saw him fall, and I believe 
 that 's all I did see afterwards." 
 
 *' You got knocked about that time, eh, cap?" said 
 a comrade, laughing and looking at the bandaged 
 head of his friend. 
 
 " Yes, I saw more stars in daylight than if I had 
 a couple of Ross's telescopes to my eyes." 
 
 In the meantime Robert was carried into a room 
 and placed upon a clean cot. The doctor gave direc- 
 tions in such a way that their execution followed at 
 once. Archy and an assistant bathed the limbs in 
 warm water, while the doctor forced some fluid b«. 
 tween the teeth, and after that the wounded man 
 made an effort at swallowing. Then the wound in 
 the head w^as dressed and the black hair cut close. 
 
 "There is no use in probing for that ball at present," 
 said Doctor Hatchett. "We must stimulate him 
 first." This was said after the doctor had inserted a 
 probe so deep that Archy turned aside and groaned 
 as if the instrument had been buried in his own breast. 
 Indeed, had it been, the pain would have been easier 
 to bear.. 
 
 The doctor, giving instructions to the assistant 
 
414 WARR£N OF TEXAS. 
 
 surgeon in charge of the building, left, promising to 
 return in a few hours. Archy could not resist say- 
 ing: 
 
 "May de God ob Israel bless dat 'ar doctah." 
 Then he sat bathing the feet and moistening the 
 cloths upon his master's breast, watching every quiver 
 of the eyelid, counting every breath, and at times 
 laying his hand on the wrist, though in utter ignorance 
 of the pulse, as if the act had some healing power. 
 
 Toward noon the painful breathing and gaspii>g 
 increased in strength, and by the time the doctor 
 returned the captain began to mutter, at first indis- 
 tinctly. At last, in a painful whisper, he called, 
 "Archy! Archy! " 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mauss Robut,'* said the kind fellow, 
 bending in anxiety beside the cot. 
 
 " It was n't Don's fault, Archy." 
 
 " No, Mauss Robut ; it wtiz de rebels." 
 
 The captain muttered again for a few minutes, then 
 he articulated : 
 
 " Richardson, bury Frazer. Poor fellow ! his mother. 
 My poor mother !" 
 
 In the afternoon they carried the cot near the light, 
 and Archy became nervous as he saw the array of 
 glistening probes and long, keen knives the doctor 
 unpacked. 
 
 " You must leave the room, boy, till we have dressed 
 this wound," said Doctor Hatchett, looking into Archy's 
 troubled face. 
 
 " Please led me stay, mauss. I *11 say noffin'. He *d 
 led me if he knowed," pleaded Archy, pointing to his 
 master. 
 
 *' I would let you remain, but I am afraid you may 
 
SURGICAL SKILL BAFFLED. 415 
 
 get noisy," said the doctor, still sorting his instru- 
 ments and arranging plaster and bandages. 
 
 " I '11 be quiet as a chile," said Archy. 
 
 The doctor smiled. " You may stay, boy, but if 
 you make one-tenth the noise my children do some- 
 times you '11 go." 
 
 " Yes, mauss, out I '11 go," repeated Archy in his 
 anxious, softened voice. 
 
 With a steady hand the doctor cleaned out the path 
 of the bullet — pieces of clothing, torn flesh, and frag- 
 ments of bone — nodding to his attendant at times, who 
 in response to the signal would pour some stimulant into 
 the wounded man's mouth. After working with an 
 anxious face for some time the doctor stopped with 
 the long, shining probe buried in the wound, and said ; 
 
 " Doctor Newton, just feel that : the ball is flattened 
 and fast to the ribs. It will be impossible to cut it 
 there and withdraw it. The orifice is too small to do 
 it without." 
 
 Doctor Newton sounded, placing his hand under 
 the captain's shoulder, and soon came to the same 
 conclusion. 
 
 "It might have been extracted last night, but I 
 think the lung is not in condition now,' 
 
 " Please tell me, doctah, Mauss Robert ain't a-goin' 
 to die." 
 
 "Here, didn't you promise to make no noise," said 
 the doctor. 
 
 ' ' Yes, sah, I '11 be still ; I '11 say noffin'," said Archy, 
 struggling to keep down the tears. 
 
 The wound was dressed, and the captain's cot moved 
 back to the corner. His breathing seemed easier, and 
 the expression of pain gradually passed away from his 
 
416 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 face. The doctor had Archy provided for, and giving 
 him the captain's time-piece, he told him to watch for 
 three hours, and to call Doctor Newton if the captain 
 seemed uneasy. After the three hours, Archy, who 
 had been up all the previous night, was to have some 
 rest. 
 
 Poor fellow, he was not conscious of fatigue or hun- 
 ger. His whole soul was absorbed in watching the 
 ashy face of his master, and had Doctor Newton been 
 called every time Archy felt like doing so, the young 
 surgeon would have been busy running in and out all 
 the time. 
 
 Four days passed, the captain showing occasional 
 moments of consciousness. Night and day Archy 
 remained by the cot watching every motion, and fly- 
 ing to execute every command that affected his mas- 
 ter. Doctor Hatchett and his assistant were constant 
 in their attentions, fanning the feeble flame of life 
 through the long anxious nights, and guarding against 
 the fever they dreaded. 
 
 Doctor Hatchett came in the fifth morning, looking 
 very pale from some cause other than his labors ; 
 Archy heard him whisper in the hall to Doctor New- 
 ton : 
 
 *' We must send back all able to bear transportation, 
 as the gangrene is spreading." 
 
 Archy' s eyes expanded, and he drew a long breath 
 as he whispered to himself, wonderingly, "De gan- 
 gring! some ob Wharton's men, I reckon." 
 
 Something more terrible, more dreaded than Whar- 
 ton's men was coming to the camp. It came to many 
 a cot in the dead of night, where the soldier lay suf- 
 fering with mangled limb, or torn breast, or gashed 
 
FEELING BEFORE THE GANGRENE. 417 
 
 head, and suddenly this child of death, gangrene, 
 seized in its slimy hands the fevered scar, and at the 
 cold touch the fever and the pain fled, and the strong 
 men sighed in very comfort, and sat up with smiling 
 faces, and joked about their condition, and exchanged 
 congratulations at feeling so well. Deeper into the 
 limb the painless scar sank, over a wider space of 
 breast the bullet-hole stretched, nearer to the brain 
 the scalp wound deepened, and the men wondered at 
 the alarmed faces of the surgeons, growled at the 
 burning caustics that brought back more than the old 
 pain, and felt easy when the burning ceased, and the 
 cold, slimy hand grasped nearer the vitals. At last 
 it seized in the midnight an artery in the limb, and 
 the soldier sank clamly to sleep. The cold hand 
 touched the heart and chilled it — passed through 
 the fracture in the scalp, and gangrene surrendered 
 its victims to its father. Death. 
 
 " I think," said Doctor Newton, "we can get all off 
 excepting Captain Warren. It would be very danger- 
 ous to move him now." 
 
 **It would be more dangerous to let him remain^ 
 We must start him back to Nashville this very day," 
 said Dr. Hatchett, walking into the room where the 
 captain, pale and breathing with so much difficulty, 
 lay. 
 
 The doctor was in earnest, and that afternoon he 
 secured a detail of strong fellows to carry the captain 
 to Nashville, fearing to trust him to the jolting of an 
 ambulance. Doctor Newton accompanied the captain 
 to Nashville, stopping at times for days at one of the 
 many extemporized hospitals along the road. Don 
 would have galloped the distance between Stone River 
 
418 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and Nashville in a few hours ; it took one week to 
 carry the captain there. Nashville was filled with 
 wounded, though many able to bear transportation 
 were sent North. Doctor Hatchett was in Nashville 
 by the time the captain reached there, and had made 
 arrangements to receive him in a private house. 
 
 Long days of fear and doubt rolled past, with faint 
 flickerings of reason — an ebb and flow of strength. 
 The captain lay unconscious in the white cot, heed- 
 ing not the soft footsteps, feeling not the gentle hand 
 which smoothed his pillow and ministered to his wants. 
 Archy was ever near him, a look of quiet satisfaction 
 on his face as he watched the graceful form of the 
 young woman moving noiselessly around his master's 
 bed like an angel unwearied in doing good. 
 
 Strange as it may seem the wound from which the 
 captain suffered most was the cut in his head received 
 in falling from his horse. A consultation disclosed 
 the fact that the skull was injured, and an operation 
 followed w^hich relieved the pressure on the brain, 
 and Robert Warren woke to the world, and remem- 
 bered only between his fall and his waking that cold 
 night of rain and fog and sleet, when young Frazer 
 died by his side, calling him friend. 
 
 The doctors announced to Archy and the young 
 nurse the return of reason, and while they permitted 
 Archy to enter at will, they enjoined on the pale girl 
 that she must only see the patient when he slept, and 
 under no temptation to speak while in the captain's 
 room. 
 
 As Archy entered, shortly after the doctors left, he 
 saw a smile on his master's face, and the once pow- 
 erful hand, now so white and thin, was extended. 
 
THE SISTER NURSE. 419 
 
 "How are you, Archy, old boy? Sit down. How 
 did I get here ?" 
 
 Arehy took the poor hand between his own, and 
 while tears of joy streamed down his face he said, in 
 a voice as low and tender as a pure woman's : 
 
 " Tank de good Lor', Mauss Robut. Sing praises 
 to His name, fur yeh 's agwine to lib again." 
 
 " Well, Archy, I can't sing, but surely I have not 
 been dead for any time, have I ?" 
 
 Archy became more serious as hcTemembered the 
 doctors' censure about talkinsf, 
 
 "Stop, Mauss Robut, yeh mus n't say anodderword. 
 Yeh 's got to hush right up. Tank de Lor' ob Israel, 
 yeh 's a libin'. Dar, do n't yeh move ; can't 'low dat, 
 no how. Yeh 've got to sleep, an' may de Lor' an' de 
 angels guard yeh wid dar shaddery wings." 
 
 The captain closed his eyes and turned his face on 
 the pillow, while his heart, filled with a brother's love 
 for the brave man by his side, could not hold back 
 the tears that rose up and flowed quietly and unob- 
 served by the black down the pale face. 
 
 A few days afterward, as the captain lay in a semi- 
 conscious state, peculiar to invalids, his eyes slightly 
 open, he felt a gentle hand on his forehead, and again 
 and again a soft cheek pressed his. He could not 
 rouse himself, but as the slender form, like a lost sun- 
 beam, moved about the darkened room, his uncertain 
 gaze followed it. He tried to remember where he 
 had seen her, and as she bowed her beautiful head to 
 speak to Archy sitting on the foot of the bed, he 
 recognized the voice and heard the very words : 
 
 " Archy, you must call on Lieutenant Richardson 
 with my compliments. Tell him his present of fruit 
 
420 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and flowers was most acceptable, and that I am very 
 sorry that brother Piobert is not strong enough to see 
 him for a few days." 
 
 " I ' 11 go right off, Miss Mary," said Archy, rising, 
 a look of devotion on his black face as he turned it 
 toward the girl. 
 
 The stupor fled ; the eyes of the wounded soldier 
 opened wide, and they drank in with rapture the 
 vision before them. 
 
 " My sister — my brave little Mary !" 
 
 She heard him, and her yearning heart, that had 
 longed so much for a word of recognition, leaped with 
 joy, and, forgetting the sage advice of the men of 
 science, her white arms were around her brother and 
 the happiest tears ever shed fell on Robert Warren's 
 face. 
 
 " Oh, Robert ! My own brave, noble brother. God 
 knows this moment repays me for all," she murmured 
 as she laid her arm so gently across the bullet-scarred 
 breast. 
 
 Robert raised the pale, sweet face and looked on it 
 till his eyes were feasted and his heart was glad. 
 Then he kissed her again, as he said : 
 
 ** And my little sister is living after all. And she 
 did not die in prison ? " 
 
 *'No, brother Robert. I left home to nurse you, 
 and I am rewarded." 
 
 "I do n't feel the animosity I did to Wheeler's 
 men after all for wounding me " 
 
 The captain would have gone on speaking, but at 
 this moment Doctor Newton entered the room, and 
 in a tone of much severity said : 
 
 " Miss Warren, this conduct is unpardonable. What 
 
ROBERT HIMSELF AGAIN. 421 
 
 will my brother-in-law, the lieutenant, say ? There, 
 you may kiss the captain once more, and then I will 
 let you go." 
 
 The doctor held up a warning finger, and Mary, her 
 face glowing with happiness, left the room. 
 
 Though the doctor had been with Robert every day 
 for two weeks, he had to introduce himself as a man 
 he had met for the first time. 
 
 It was a time of wonders and miracles, when no 
 event, no matter how extraordinary, surprised men, 
 and no cure was attributed to mere surgical skill. 
 Captain Warren had seen enough of war to be pre- 
 pared for any circumstance that might surround him. 
 He was not astonished to know that Doctor Newton 
 had attended him under the advice of Doctor Hatchett 
 for two weeks. Had it been two months or two years 
 ii would not have created wonder, for he had known 
 of things more extraordinary, and before his wound 
 he had lived for nearly two years surrounded by scenes 
 more calculated to create surprise. He loved the 
 cool, brave Richardson, the man who knew nothing 
 beyond duty and obedience, who lived for the one 
 object of country, and who valued his life as nothing 
 to accomplish his purpose. He felt a thrill of pride 
 when he learned from Doctor Newton that the daring 
 lieutenant had been shot down in the vain effort to 
 recover the body of his leader, Captain Warren, and 
 he consoled himself with the thought that he would 
 have done the same to save Richardson were he in 
 danger during that terrible battle of Stone River. 
 Men soon learn what they would do for a friend, and 
 the acts of that friend may arouse gratitude, but not 
 surnrise. The captain was sorry to hear of the broken 
 36 
 
422 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 leg and the death of Richardson's favorite horse, but 
 he forgot all about himself in the thought that Rich- 
 ardson suffered in the line of duty. Duty! Ho^f 
 soon a soldier learns that name, looking upon it as a 
 synonym for friendship, courage, honor, and patriot- 
 ism, forgetting in its very name the impulse that 
 made himself to be a soldier. 
 
 Robert listened with delight to Doctor Newton's 
 praise of his sister. He could not say enough in 
 commendation of the noble girl, and he encouraged 
 him to dwell on a subject so gratifying. 
 
 The doctor was mysterious, not in a professional 
 sense, for he knew Captain Warren cared not a fig for 
 that gi-eat person, Death — men soon grow familiar 
 with cross-bones and skull — ^but he alluded to Lieu- 
 tenant Richardson in a way that brought up long-for- 
 gotten incidents to the mind of the wounded man — 
 days of peace and quiet, when returning from the 
 hunt, he had seen Mary on the gallery sitting close to 
 one whom he then loved, but since despised ; and he 
 contrasted the tall, handsome rebel with the cool, 
 polished Richardson, the man of principle and duty — 
 the soldier who dared to do what his conscience 
 taught him was right. 
 
 No men reason like soldiers. War sharpens every 
 faculty, and as Robert "Warren turned his gashed head» 
 and felt the heavy incubus on his once powerful heart, 
 he forgot wounds and pain, and saw his sister under 
 the influence of Richardson. He did not need the 
 :50ft words of the good doctor ; ihstinctively he imder- 
 stood the situation. 
 
 The doctor left, congi-atulating the captain on his 
 wonderful recovery and promising to call early on the 
 moiTow. 
 
ARCHY AND ROBERT. 423 
 
 The morrow came, with the doctor near the cap- 
 tain, accompanied by Surgeon Hatchett, whom Eobert 
 at once gratefully recognized, and Mary, sitting at the 
 head of the bed with the once strong hand sand- 
 wiched between her own, so soft and womanly. 
 
 Doctor Hatchett was more impulsive than Newton 
 who imitated the cool Richardson. He felt the danger 
 was over, and, after pressing Robert's hand, he began 
 de novo and gave him a graphic sketch of his own 
 sufferings — something Robert was blissfully ignorant 
 of— and he closed with a record of Archy's fidelity 
 and patience which induced the captain to call for 
 that worthy at once. 
 
 As boys they had played and fought together. As 
 youths they had hunted between the Brazos and Col- 
 orado. As men they had dared to do right, and had 
 suffered together. As a lad, Archy used to call his 
 young master " Mauss Bob," but after Robert returned 
 from college in the North, the black man was more 
 reserved, and used the early name only on important 
 occasions. 
 
 As Archy entered the room where the doctors and 
 his young mistress were, near the bed of his master, 
 he forgot all the intervening time between youth and 
 manhood, and, rushing to the bed, he ejaculated as 
 he knelt beside it : 
 
 " 'Fore Heaven, Mauss Bob, I 's mor 'n glad yeh 's 
 all right agin." 
 
 Robert took one of Archy's hands, and, with a 
 shadow of the old smile on his pale, thin face, replied : 
 
 "I am equally glad to see you, Archy. Last night 
 I did not think I would ever see a friend m this world 
 again." 
 
424 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Not las' night, I reckon, mauss," said Archy , 
 las' night yeh wuz heah in de bed as quiet as a lamb. 
 Why, it's mor'n two weeks since de battle." 
 
 * * Two weeks — two weeks ! " Robert was going on 
 in wonder, but Archy stopped him : 
 
 " Dar, dar, not one odder word ; de doctah says yeh 
 mustn't speak. Got to min' de doctah. Tank de 
 Lor', yeh 's all squar agin." 
 
 •* It won't hurt me to hear you talk, Archy. Tell 
 nie all about Mary, and how I cdme here," said 
 Robert, closing his eyes, the better to catch every 
 expected word and as a sort of half promise that he 
 would not talk again. 
 
 ** Wall, mauss, dunno ez I kin tell yeh all. Ain't 
 got time nohow. Got to go see Mauss Richadson." 
 
 " Lieutenant Richardson ! " exclaimed Robert. 
 *'Why, where is he?" What is wrong with him?" 
 
 "Dar, yeh mus' not say no more. Why, Mauss 
 Richadson 's got a ball in de right leg. Gittin' on 
 fuss rate. He tole me whar yeh wuz dat night, an* 
 de Lor* knows ef I did n't sarch an' hunt fur yeh. 
 Par's no kinder use talkin'. It rained. Oh mighty, 
 but it wuz cold an' rainy. Did n't 'spec to see yeh 
 alive. An' when I foun' yeh, 'bout daylight, yeh 
 looked ez if yeh 'd bled all out. I wuz goin' to pick 
 yeh up an' tote yeh off, but I did n't know whar yeh 
 wuz woun'ed, an' I did n't want ter hurt yeh.*' 
 
 " But you could not have hurt me, Archy, if I was 
 dead?" 
 
 "Dat's true, Mauss Robut ; but I 'pealed to de 
 Lor', an' I kind o' heerd a voice savin' yeh wuz n't 
 (lead, ez de good book says, but sleepin'. Den I jes' 
 hollered, an' some sojers kum up an* we toted yeh 
 
BROTHER AND SISTER. 425 
 
 I 
 off. I neber felt so strong in my life ez when 1 wuz 
 a holdin' on to dat 'ar stretcher." 
 
 " Well, Archy, you have been my guardian angel 
 again," said Robert,' his eyes still closed. 
 
 *'No, mauss, de good Lor' sent an angel ob light 
 to de fiel' an' guided me whar yeh wuz. Now do n't 
 talk no more. Doctah Newton says yeh mus n't talk.'* 
 
 "But who is Doctor Newton, Archy?" 
 
 *• Why, Mauss Robut, he *s Mauss Richadson's 
 brudder by a marryin' ob his sister?" 
 
 *• Whose sister, Archy ? " 
 
 "Why, Mauss Richadson's," 
 
 •'I know, but who married her?" 
 
 Archy looked down and saw a smile on his master's 
 face, which was communicated to his own as he rose 
 and said : 
 
 *• Yeh 's jes' a foolin' of me. 'Clare to Massy, I 
 won't say one odder word." 
 
 Robert was very anxious to have a long conversa- 
 tion with his sister, but the doctor was inexorable. 
 He promised, however, to let the captain talk for a 
 short time with Miss Warren the next day, provided 
 he remained perfectly quiet for the present. This 
 Robert with a more than child-like docility promised 
 to do, while he mentally objected to the medical dis- 
 cipline. Still he felt easier and happier, despite his 
 wounds, than he had done for a long time, and in his 
 dreams the slender, girlish form seemed by his side, 
 as she was in fact. 
 
 At ten o'clock next morning the doctor, after dressing 
 Robert's wounds, pronounced him very much better, 
 and, leading Mary to the side of the cot, he made her 
 promise to do all the talking and left. 
 
426 WABREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ** I am very happy to have you here, little sister," 
 said Robert, taking her hand i» his as she sat on the 
 low camp-stool beside him. " Come, tell me all about 
 yourself since we parted. I ha^fe been mourning you 
 as dead." 
 
 " I would have been, brother, had I depended on 
 my own poor strength for support. Before I left 
 home I did not dream that I could have endured what 
 lay before me, and yet, after more than a year of 
 watching for you, here I am, strong, healthy, and 
 happy, sad only at your sufferings and the troubles of 
 the dear ones at home." Mary laid her hand on 
 Bobert's forehead as she spoke, and looked into 
 his gray eyes with such a swee't, happy face that he 
 felt a lump in his throat and a moisture about his eyes, 
 and he closed them to hide the evidences of his hap- 
 piness. 
 
 "Go on, sister," he murmured, pressing her hand. 
 *' I am very happy. Tell me all about yourself." 
 
 Then Mary, in a low, soft voice, that came like 
 music from above to the wounded man, began the 
 story already familiar to the reader. But over the 
 parts where she was most conspicuous she suppressed 
 the narration of her own sufferings ; but Kobert knew 
 her, and sighed as in imagination he saw the gentle 
 girl, so unused to the world, suffering as she must 
 have done. He knew pretty well her story down to 
 her imprisonment at Nashville, and as she came to 
 that part his hold on her hand tightened and he turned 
 his head the better to catch her words. 
 
 " I felt very sorry for poor Tom. Henderson Town- 
 send carried him off, and I presume he is with him 
 now." 
 
FRAZER. 4»7 
 
 «* Never mind about Tom, sister ; tell me only about 
 yourself." 
 
 " I felt so conscious of no intention to do wrong 
 that I did not dread the result. It was the order of 
 the provost marshal to put me in jail, but the lieu, 
 tenant was a kind, good man — poor fellow, he died 
 here in hospital a few days ago. He was wounded at 
 Stone Eiver, and I nursed him till he passed away. 
 Well, the lieutenant found the jail was full, and got 
 permission to take me to a private family, the Frazers, 
 relatives of his, where I was to remain to await my 
 trial. The people were Confederates, but exceedingly 
 good and kind, and so honest in their convictions that 
 while their thoughtfulness won my heart their senti- 
 ments on the war had my respect, I was with this 
 kind family at Nashville for nearly eight weeks, when 
 the news^came of the taking of Fort Donelson. I was 
 still untried, and knew not how to act. Mrs. Frazer 
 thought it would be very dangerous for me to remain 
 behind till the Federal troops, as she called them, 
 came in, and her family decided to move down to 
 Columbia at once. I was so utterly alone and help- 
 less that I determined to remain for the present with 
 the Frazers, hoping an opportunity might present 
 itself of getting into Kentucky or communicating with 
 you. Lieutenant Charles Frazer, of the Fifth Ten- 
 nessee Cavalry, was a very fine young gentleman, and 
 he carried at different times a half-dozen letters and 
 left them in post-offices where they might reach you, 
 but I presume you never got them ? " 
 
 " Never," said Robert, while he muttered, as if to 
 remind himself: "Frazer — Frazer — Columbia — Fifth 
 Tennessee ! With Wheeler — Mary." 
 
428 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Yes, brother." 
 
 " It seems like a temble dream — the sufferings of 
 that night when I lay wounded on the field. T heard 
 a man groan near me and I crawled to his side. He 
 was wounded and dying. His name was Frazer, of 
 the Fifth Tennessee. He must have been young, for 
 he had no beard. I gave him a drink, and he died 
 beside me asking me to take a message to his friends 
 at Columbia. Poor boy, he was your friend." 
 
 " He was, Robert," and Mary bowed her head, and 
 when again she raised it, her long lashes sparkled with 
 tears of sorrow for the brave young Tennesseean. 
 
 " Go on, sister. Tell me the rest." 
 
 Mary continued : 
 
 *' I remained with the Frazers during the spring 
 and summer. Columbia was sometimes occupied by 
 Union troops, sometimes by Confederates. Mr. 
 Frazer had a place out of town, which was seldom 
 visited by the soldiers of either side, but when I saw 
 the Union troops I inquired for you, but could learn 
 nothing about you. I busied myself in the meantime 
 sewing and caring for the wounded of each side. One 
 day, after Buell and Bragg passed south, Iliad a con- 
 versation with Doctor Newton, in Columbia. He was 
 a Union surgeon, and told me if I went on to Nash- 
 ville, he would secure me a position as nurse in one 
 of the hospitals, and at the same time he would do 
 all in his power to find you. I came on here and with 
 all my strength I have worked to relieve the brave 
 men who have been fighting with you. Still I tried 
 to find you. I heard from a soldier that he had seeu 
 you at Perryville, but that being in the cavalry it 
 would be hard to find you. About ten days ago, as I 
 
A LOYE AFFAIR. 429 
 
 was going to church, you may imagine my joy and 
 surprise to see Archy coming directly toward me. 
 Poor fellow, he w^as but a shadow of himself, and he 
 was so delighted, I actually thought he would go 
 wild. Now it seems Doctor Newton, who has been 
 attending you all the time, knew the relation you sus- 
 tamed to me, but knowing you were desperately 
 wounded, he kept the secret. However, I sought him 
 out with Archy ; that cunning fellow would not take 
 me to you first. The doctor was of course surprised ; 
 he had given me charge, a day or two before, of Lieu- 
 tenant Richardson, but that gentleman, though one 
 of your officers, was as mute as a sea-turtle, though 
 he knew who I was. And when I inquired about you, 
 as I did from everybody, the lieutenant actually 
 fibbed. But then he is such a good, noble fellow." 
 This was said with so much earnestness that Robert 
 opened his eyes, looked at the blushing face of his 
 sister, and said : 
 
 " So you really think Richardson is a good fellow ? " 
 Without appearing to notice the interruption, Mary 
 hurried on. 
 
 " Doctor Newton agreed to let me see you and nurse 
 you on condition that I should never talk in the room, 
 and that Archy should always ascertain if you were 
 conscious before I entered. Of course, dear brother, 
 I complied," said Mary as she stooped and kissed 
 him ; then added, " I will not tire you with the rest, 
 you can imagine it." 
 
 She had hardly concluded when in walked Doctor 
 Newton. Robert reached out his hand and thanked 
 him for his kindness to himself and sister, but the 
 doctor playfully informed him he must not talk, 
 
430 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 adding, " If you remain quiet till to-morrow, captain, 
 I have another agreeable surprise in store for you.'* 
 
 " I will be mute as a mouse, doctor, but I should 
 like to see Richardson," said the captain. 
 
 " I have promised Albert to let him try his crutches 
 in a few days, if he behaves. Then you can see him. 
 
 Robert acquiesced, though he felt strong enough 
 in his own opinion to respond to " boots and sad- 
 dles " in the time it would take him to dress. 
 
 The doctor, for reasons best known to himself, did 
 not produce the promised agreeable surprise on the 
 following day ; but on the one succeeding, after dress- 
 ing the captain's rapidly-healing wounds, he went out 
 and soon returned, escorting in Gaines, Tennes.see, 
 Old Dawn, and Arkansas. Gaines walked a little 
 lame, but in other respects he looked well, while 
 Tennessee seemed himself again, excepting that his 
 yellow hair and beard were shorter than he was ac- 
 customed to wear them. 
 
 The joy of all was unbounded at this meeting, and 
 only the doctor's presence prevented Robert from 
 getting up and explaining all about himself to " the 
 boys " while he made inquiries as to the state of their 
 wounds. 
 
 The interv'iew was short, but the doctor assured 
 Robert he could see the men again before they went to 
 the front, for which they were then en route. 
 
 Two weeks rolled past, during which time Robert 
 grew daily stronger, and was permitted to dress and 
 sit up for a few hours every afternoon. Gaines with 
 the rest of the men had gone down the Mississippi, 
 being ordered to join Sherman, then on the Yazoo. 
 IRichardson was still on crutches, and never let two 
 
THE CONVALESCENT COMRADES. 431 
 
 hours elapse without coming to see the captain when 
 he was awake. The lieutenant's manner seemed very- 
 much changed. He was no longer rese -ved. He was 
 more than usually kind, and when Mary was present 
 his voice softened and the expressio i of his face 
 changed. Robert had his suspicions, but prudently 
 kept them to himself. One day after he had grown 
 so strong that he applied for a hospital discharge, and 
 when Eichardson had thrown away his crutches, Mary, 
 who knew her brother would soon leave, reminded him 
 about removing Lieutenant Frazer's remains to Colum- 
 bia, he having previously learned where the Tennes- 
 seean was buried. After Robert had promised this, 
 Mary was silent for some time. There was evidently 
 something on her mind which she wished to commu- 
 nicate to her brother. Robert knew this, and it was 
 cruel in him not to help her. At length she mustered 
 up courage, and pulling her chair close to his she took 
 one of his hands in hers. 
 
 *' Brother Robert." 
 
 "Yes, sister Mary." 
 
 Robert was smoking, and blew a cload toward the 
 ceiling in which direction his face was turned. 
 
 "You and Lieutenant Richardson will be together 
 after you leave ?" 
 
 "I hope so, sister." 
 
 *' Brother Robert, would you object to my writing 
 to Lieutenant Richardson. You know he will be very 
 lonely down by that miserable river near Vicksburg." 
 
 "Yes, sister, I will let him read the letters you send 
 me ; I hope to get one, at least, every week." 
 
 •* You do n't think T ought to write to him, then?" 
 
 "I do not wish to create that impression, Mary. 
 
432 WAKREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Has the lieutenant asked you to write?'* 
 
 " Why, of course, or I would not do it." 
 
 "Then, my darling little sister, if it will make you 
 and Richardson happier to write to each other, do so 
 by all means." Robert drew her closer to him, and 
 laying aside his pipe he looked kindly into her half- 
 frightened eyes. 
 
 "Mary, the lieutenant loves you — I have thought so 
 for a long time. Tell me, what are your feelings to- 
 ward him?" 
 
 "I do not know, Robert," said Mary, nestling closer 
 to the broad chest. "I respect him very much. He 
 is so noble and brave, and seems to be nearer to you 
 than some brothers. I cannot help feeling a more 
 than usual interest in him." 
 
 " I do not wonder at that, Mary. Richardson is one 
 of the few thoroughly good men I ever met ; and, 
 withal, he is positive. I like positive men." 
 
 "So do I, brother Robert." 
 
 " Very well ; I love my litter sister so much, and 
 have such confidence in her heart and good sense, that 
 whatever she does is right to me." Robert kissed 
 her, and rising as he concluded he walked out, 
 leaving her heart full of happiness. 
 
 A few days after this, and the captain and his lieu- 
 tenant went south to the Yazoo, while Mary remained 
 behind, an angel in the hospital. 
 
CHAPTEE XXXVII. 
 
 **THE CITY OF AN HUNDRED HILLS." 
 
 " The Yankees might take Richmond," but, with a 
 romantic oath, Pemberton raid " they could not take 
 Vicksburg ;" and the Southern people believed this 
 with good reason. In the early spring of '63 Davis 
 had been there, and in a speech to the garrison pro- 
 nounced the place impregnable. He said "the com- 
 bined armies of Yankeedom " could not take Vicks- 
 burg "with such defenders, provided they had provis- 
 ions." Then Pemberton vowed that if Vicksburg 
 were besieged it would only surrender "when the last 
 mule and rat had been eaten, and the last cartridge 
 fired by the last man." This sounded well, and those 
 who subsequently denounced Pemberton as " a traitor 
 to the South " applauded to the skies. 
 
 Some philosopher ha^said "there is no such thing 
 as an absolute falsehood." It might be added, 
 "There are grounds for every earnest assertion." 
 The Southern people were given to overestimate 
 themselves, and underestimate their opponents ; 
 stin they had strong reasons for voting Vicksbm-g 
 impregnable. From its southern batteries But- 
 ler and Porter had been sent flying down the river, 
 while Sherman and McClernand had assaulted its 
 northern defenses on the Yazoo only to be repulsed. 
 Even the former attempt of General Grant to reach 
 
 Jackson from Grenada proved a complete failure. 
 
 37 
 
434 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 When Grant assumed command of the Army of 
 the Mississippi in the early spring of 'G3, he illus- 
 trated the truth of the adage that "Where there 's a 
 will there 's a way." Butler's canal, intended to turn 
 the channel of the Mississippi and leave Yicksburg 
 "high and dry," was a failure, and in the spring of 
 the year named its stagnant waters were the paradise 
 of frogs, while the Mississippi in a grand sweep rolled 
 up against the cliffs and hills of Yicksburg. 
 
 Robert Warren was glad to be transferred with his 
 men to the Army of the Mississippi. It seemed like 
 getting nearer his home when he scouted in the woods 
 of Louisiana below Vicksburg, in which State two 
 years before he had been a hunted fugitive. Gaines 
 and Tennessee were with him, as was Arcby, and he 
 hoped for the day when they could all go back to the 
 Caddo Lakes again and look upon the scene of the 
 terrible storm of March two years before. 
 
 It required a great deal of nerve to run the batte- 
 ries before Vicksburg with steamers. Yet hundreds 
 of brave men, acquainted with the bend, were ready 
 to volunteer. Although several steamers were de- 
 stroyed in their efforts to pass, enough got through 
 for General Grant's purpose. Down the west bank of 
 the river to Bruinsboro' the Army marched, and the 
 steamers were there to ferry the troops across before 
 the enemy was aware of Grant's purpose. Defeat to 
 the Union troops at this time would have been ruin, 
 but to defeat that army would have been to annihilate 
 it. Every man appreciated the position, and felt as 
 if the success of the campaign depended on his own 
 exertions. At Grand Gulf Pemberton was met, but 
 it was only to hurl him back from the Mississippi to 
 
BEFORE VICKSBURG. 435 
 
 Port Gribson on the Bayou Perfe. At Port Gibson, the 
 most beautiful town in the South, Pemberton threw 
 himself in Grrant's path ; but the opposition he offered 
 hardly checked the rapid advance of the men bound 
 for Vicksburg. Kaymond, Champion Hills, Jackson, 
 and the Big Black offered but points for a temporary 
 resistance. Pemberton's army, weakened by the loss 
 of Loring, who was cut off by the Union Army, was 
 driven into Vicksburg, and Grant's triumphant legions 
 encamped before it, first feeling its gigantic works 
 by a bloody and fruitless assault, then opening up 
 communications with the North by way of Milliken's 
 Bend and the Yazoo. 
 
 Captain Warren's duties during this time were of 
 the most arduous kind. The Union Army was be- 
 tween two forces, viz., Pemberton in Vicksburg and 
 Johnston at Jackson. An attack from both simulta- 
 neously would have been disastrous, and it required 
 the utmost vigilance to prevent concert of action 
 between the rebel generals. 
 
 In the early June Captain Warren was instructed 
 to take a few men, including a telegraph operator, 
 pass north between Canton and Jackson, tap the wires 
 between the latter place and Brandon, and ascertain 
 by every means the condition and strength of General 
 Joe Johnston's army. It was an easy matter to obtain 
 passes with the name of any Southern general on, in 
 this case with the signature of General Johnston, so 
 as to use them if necessary. 
 
 At the time of the advance on Jackson, the Union 
 Cavalry destroyed the railroad and telegraph wires 
 east of Jackson to Pearl River, where they burned the 
 bridge. It had been ascertained that neither the 
 
436 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 railroad nor wires had been repaired by Johnston, so 
 that all dispatches for the east had to be sent by 
 courier to Brandon, beyond the river, from which point 
 stores for the Army went west by wagon. 
 
 To reach Pearl River by the route laid down re- 
 quired two days of hard riding, by unfrequented 
 roads and across that portion of the country less apt 
 to be traversed by the scouting or foraging parties 
 of the enemy. 
 
 The evening of the second day they struck the 
 river north of what they learned was the Brandon 
 FeiTy, and in a p'lme wood they went into camp. Cap- 
 tain Warren, Richardson, Tennessee, and a telegraph 
 operator named Sailor, formerly of Dayton, Ohio, 
 comprised the party. Sailor was familiar with the 
 cypher used by the enemy at this time, though he 
 was completely ignorant of that used by the com- 
 manding officer of his own army. Up to this time 
 they had met detached squads of the enemy without 
 exciting suspicion. Indeed, from some of them 
 Captain Warren learned much of importance relative 
 to Johnston's army. 
 
 After going into camp, Tennessee was sent down 
 near the road with instructions to watch for the 
 couriers, who would be known by their dress and 
 satchel, but by no means to halt any other person. 
 They built no fire and all stood their watch, including 
 the captain. Just before daylight Tennessee was on 
 again, and before half an hour he came into camp 
 conducting a young man who proved to be a courier 
 going to Brandon with dispatches for Richmond, 
 He was a handsome fellow, and wore a look of pro- 
 found astonishment at his arrest by men whom he 
 supposed to be friends. 
 
"YOU ARE A TRISONER!" 437 
 
 "Why do you detain mc, sir?" he asked, address, 
 ing himself to Robert, whom he recognized from 
 his manner as the leader of the party. 
 
 Moving further into the woods, Robert struck a 
 light and ordered the courier to take off his satchel. 
 
 " I protest, sir, against this treatment," said the 
 courier. " I have dispatches of importance, and I 
 promised to get them to Brandon early this morning. 
 Here are my papers ; you can see I am permitted to 
 pass and repass all pickets and guards without deten- 
 tion." 
 
 *' I do not doubt but your papers, under other cir- 
 cumstances, would pass you to and from Brandon, but 
 where I come from they would be useless," said the 
 captain. 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the courier in amazement, 
 " are you Yankees ? ' ' 
 
 "We are, sir, and you are our prisoner," was the 
 reply. 
 
 The courier on hearing this sat down and wept like 
 a child. 
 
 " You have done your duty," said Robert, laying 
 his hand on the courier's shoulder, " and are not to 
 blame for what is a fortune of war. In one hour I 
 intend starting for Vicksburg. Our saddle-bags are 
 lilled with percussion caps for Pemberton's men." 
 
 The courier looked up in wonder, while Robert 
 continued : " I wish I had these papers without you. 
 I cannot parole you. It is nearly impossible to take 
 you through with me. I do not know what to do with 
 you.' 
 
 " I do, sir ! " said the courier, rising hastily. " Here, 
 ehoot me ! for I do not want to live under a disgrace." 
 37* 
 
438 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "I regret that war should make me the foe of so 
 brave a man," said the captain, " but you see my po- 
 sition, and you know the law about self-preserva- 
 tion?" 
 
 " I do, sir. I expect what I desire — death. Last 
 night I agreed with my horse to take those dis- 
 patches for General Johnston two hours shorter than 
 his best courier. Now I am a prisoner and the blame 
 will be on me." 
 
 Robert walked aside and consulted with Richard- 
 son for a few minutes, then came back. 
 
 " If you agree to my plan," he said, addressing the 
 prisoner, " T will promise that before forty-eight hours 
 General Johnston learns all about your gallant conduct 
 and the manner of your capture. In giving yom- re- 
 ply to me, consider well the importance of your word, 
 and before giving a negative think of those at home 
 who are dear to you. I cannot parole you. If you 
 will submit to being disguised and will pledge that 
 you will make no attempt at escape till we reach the 
 Big Black, I will take you through and release you 
 there. If you do not agree to this you court your own 
 death to save the lives of your enemies." 
 
 The courier held down his head for a few minutes, 
 weighing the, to him, all-important question of life or 
 death. He made up his mind, and rising, he extended 
 his hand to the captain. 
 
 " I will go with you, sir, for my mother's sake, if 
 you promise to send a letter from some point before 
 reaching your lines to General Johnston." 
 
 " I shall certainly do so," said Robert, and ^e had 
 hardly finished speaking before a bugle sounded near 
 the ferry, and Tennessee hastened back to say a regi- 
 
READING THE CIPHER SECRET. 439 
 
 ment of cavalry was moving in the direction of Jack- 
 son. 
 
 They waited till the regiment had a good start 
 ahead, then Richardson changed the appearance of 
 the courier by making him exchange clothes and put- 
 ting a huge pair of brown whiskers on the smoothf 
 boyish face. In the meantime Tennessee put his own 
 equipments on the courier's horse, after he had dark- 
 ened the white star on the beautiful animal's head, 
 and trimmed very closely the flowing tail and mane. 
 
 Before starting Sailor had read the cipher, and it, 
 with the rest of the papers found on the person of 
 the courier, was destroyed. As they rode along, tak- 
 ing a route south of Jackson in the direction of Crys- 
 tal Springs, Sailor informed Robert that one of the 
 dispatches read : *' It would be imprudent to cross the 
 Big Black with twenty thousand men and no artil- 
 lery." This was addressed to "President Davis, 
 Richmond, Va." 
 
 " This is all he wants to know. I think the general 
 will smoke without much concern after hearing that," 
 said Robert. 
 
 " Yes, if we only gits to give him the news without 
 bein* onpleasantly interfered with on the way," said 
 Tennessee, dryly, and with a queer twinkle in his blue 
 eyes that looked like a smile, but meant anxiety. 
 
 " Half the work is over, Tennessee," said Robert. 
 '* Though we will have ridden over two hundred miles 
 to secure a few words, they will be worth a corps to 
 Grant, and we must get them to him." 
 
 The country through which they passed returning 
 was a little better than the one by which they had 
 come. The soil was light, and forests of pine, with 
 
440 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 an undergrowth of fan palm and huge ferns, lined the 
 road for much of the distance. Here and there was 
 to be seen a clearing, with fields of cotton or corn sur- 
 rounding the pretentious " white folks' house" and 
 log cabins of the negroes. Now and then a black- 
 smith's shop by the roadside, surrounded by crippled 
 wagons, and occasionally a negro driving unconcern- 
 edly his double mule-team, were the only objects that 
 broke the monotony of the undulating country be- 
 tween the ferry at Pearl River and Crystal Springs. 
 Near the latter place, early in the evening, the scouts 
 went into camp some distance from the road, while 
 Robert rode into town, or rather into the pleasant 
 Uttle village, to obtain supplies and learn what he 
 could about the enemy. As he expected, there were 
 no troops stationed there, but there were many sol- 
 diers on leave and furlough lounging about the tavern. 
 It was wonderful to think of the liberality of the 
 Southern officers with their men. In '63 every male 
 from sixteen to sixty was looked on as a soldier, and 
 two-thu*ds of their number w^ould have outnumbered 
 the Union Army at any time, but they straggled, got 
 off on slight pretexts, and with an utter lack of inter- 
 est in their cause they left the fighting to the minor- 
 ity, and stood ready to demand the glory if the South 
 was successful. And as a rule these skulkers were 
 the men who, on the agitation of secession, were 
 loudest in their demands for separation, and through 
 the war bitterest in their denunciations of the North. 
 Only the devoted heroism of the minority that did 
 fight can give to the Southern people a claim for pat- 
 riotic self-denial. 
 
 Crystal Springs, though not made up of planters* 
 
AN ENCOUNTER— AUDACITY. 441 
 
 residences, as is Port Gibson, is still a very pretty vil- 
 lage for that latitude, with more evidences of home 
 comfort than are usually to be met with in Southern 
 towns. Robert spent an hour very profitably in the 
 place, and while there he wrote and posted a letter to 
 the officer commanding the Confederate forces at 
 Jackson, explaining the capture of the courier. This 
 he did with a feeling of safety, as he hoped to be in 
 Vicksburg in twenty-four hours, or before the mail 
 would start from the Springs. 
 
 Returning to camp Robert formed the reliefs, with 
 orders to keep a strict watch over the prisoner, 
 though, as it proved, the word of the courier first given 
 was a sufficient guarantee for his conduct. 
 
 Early next morning the scouts were in the saddle. 
 Fifty miles lay between them and Vicksburg, with 
 the Big Black to swim and the rebel scouts east of 
 it to elude. All went well until two in the afternoon, 
 when Robert, on ascending a slope, saw ahead on the 
 road a large body of Confederate cavalry, half hidden 
 in the cloud of dust it raised, advancing toward him. 
 He determined to ride on, and without halting he 
 posted the scouts to break and make for Vicksburg in 
 case of discovery. Instructing Tennessee to watch 
 the prisoner, he and Richardson rode ahead some 
 distance. The officer in command of the cavalry was 
 some distance ahead of the line with his staff, and as 
 Robert approached he called out : 
 
 *'Halt, there! which way are you going, sir?" at 
 the same time he dispatched an officer lo stop the 
 column. 
 
 "I am going to Vicksburg, sir," replied Robert. 
 
 " The h — 1 you are ! What do you intend doing 
 
442 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 there?" asked the officer in a tone of incredulity and 
 surprise. 
 
 *E,ead that, sir," said Eobert, handing the officer 
 a note as he turned and with his hand halted his little 
 band. 
 
 The officer, judging from the time his eyes were on 
 the paper, must have read it over half a dozen times. 
 
 *• • Captain Warren,'" he muttered, as if criticising 
 the paper in his hand, " 'going to Vicksburg with 
 caps, is to go back and report to Johnston ' — Pember- 
 ton's signature, sure." Then glancing at the captain 
 with a look of admiration he said : " Young man, do n't 
 you know you are playing a terrible game ? — going on 
 a d — d desperate enterprise?" 
 
 "I know it, sir," replied the captain ; "but we are 
 d — d desperate men !' ' 
 
 *' Spoken like a hero, by the Grods ! Give me your 
 hand, Captain Warren. My name is Scott, Colonel 
 Scott," said the officer, seizing the captain's hand. 
 
 ♦' Oh, I think," said the captain, "I met you in 
 Kentucky last summer, with Bragg?" said Robert, in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 The colonel laughed. 
 
 *' You are very near right, captain. I was in there 
 with Kirby Smith, who is now at Shreveport, and a 
 gallant officer." 
 
 " Yes, we were all mixed up there for a while, so 
 that I am excusable for mistaking the army you were 
 attached to." 
 
 "Perfectly excusable, captain, about the army 
 One thing you could not mistake — the cause I was at- 
 tached to. We were under the same flag." 
 
 " We were under the same flag," repeated the cap- 
 
THE REBEL COURIER RELEASED. 443 
 
 tain, with au emphasis whose full meaning Colonel 
 Scott did not then know. 
 
 *'By the way, colonel, what are the chances for 
 Vickshurg?" asked Robert, determined to direct the 
 cm-rent of their conversation. 
 
 "D — n poor, captain. I think, however, the place 
 cannot be carried by assault. Our only fear, between 
 us, is Pemberton. Pemberton, you know, is a Yankee, 
 and, curse them ! I do not trust them, even when they 
 have sworn to protect our flag. We hope to strengthen 
 Johnston so as to warrant his crossing the Big Black. 
 At the same time we are annoying the Yankee outposts, 
 and bothering them like the devil with our light ar- 
 tillery on the river. I am now on the way to join an 
 expedition for Yazoo City. There are a lot of 
 smoked Yankees [negi'oes] there, and before two days 
 we will make them wish themselves back in slavery." 
 
 *'I wish you a deserved success, colonel." 
 
 *' I know that, captain. Now draw your men aside 
 and let me pass, and when the war is over come and 
 see me, at Cahaba, Alabama. Good bye ! God bless 
 you, old fellow." 
 
 Ptobert clasped the brave fellow's hand warmly, and 
 drew his men in line along the roadside, where all, 
 including . the young courier, saluted Colonel Scott 
 and his command as it passed. 
 
 The scouts breathed easier as the last Confederate 
 passed, and the moving column of dust told them they 
 were out of immediate danger. 
 
 An hour's ride took them to the Big Black, where 
 Robert returned the courier his horse, much to Ten- 
 nessee's disgust, and thanking him for the honor he 
 had displayed, he told him he was at liberty to return. 
 
444 'WAREEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The courier before leaving expressed, in a feeling 
 way, his admiration for the men who could risk so 
 much for their cause. "Before I met you, Captain 
 Warren, I looked upon your army as a set of mer- 
 cenary hirelings. Henceforth I will believe there are 
 brave men in it willing to risk all for what they con- 
 'sider duty." 
 
 ' ' Our army has but few men who would not do 
 what I am willing to for the Union, and after we pass 
 away, three millions of men, equally earnest, are 
 ready to take our places. Tell this to your friends, 
 and help to bring about peace." 
 
 The young man gave no reply, but, shaking hands 
 with all, he rode slowly back, looking behind him 
 at times, till he saw the dripping horsemen emerge on 
 the west bank of the Big Black, then he shook his 
 bridle, and with his dashing horse was soon lost be- 
 yond the slope. 
 
 Before the sun went down the scouts had reported, 
 and Grant tightened his hold on Yicksburg, without 
 a fear of the army at Jackson. Two days after this 
 there was an attack on Yazoo City, but there were 
 more than "smoked Yankees" to meet the rebels, and 
 one Yankee outpost was prepared for the intended 
 surprise. 
 
 It would thrill, even now, to recall the story of that 
 glorious siege. The bloody assaults of the besiegers, 
 the reckless sorties of the besieged ; the mine and 
 attack, and the daily approach of the inflexible lines 
 and ubiquitous gunboats ; the nights when the fiery 
 path of signal lights and screeching shells from the 
 river and the land showed there was no rest for the 
 determined army till its mission was complete. July 
 
yiCKSBURG SUCCUMBS. 445" 
 
 4th, most auspicious of days, came around, and with 
 it the white flags, and the silenced forts, and Pem- 
 berton's thirty- five thousand men, with artillery parked 
 and arms grounded, and the banner of the Union 
 floating over all. Bravely and well the garrison of 
 Vicksburg fought; but the silly boast of the last 
 man, last cartridge, last mule, and last rat was not 
 can-ied out. They " lived to fight another day," 
 the majority without being exchanged. 
 
 And the night of the 4th saw Burnside's men on 
 the road to Jackson, from which Johnston was hurled 
 back before he knew that Vicksburg had fallen. 
 
 The day after the siege the captain received a 
 letter from Mary, saying that Addison was wounded 
 and a prisoner at Nashville. In a sweet, womanly 
 way she regretted the suffering of the man once so 
 dear to her, and deplored the military order which 
 was to send him to Camp Douglas when strong enough 
 to move. *'He was very destitute when brought in,'* 
 she said, ** and it did my heart good to be able 
 to care for him, and, without wounding his pride, 
 to give him the means of purchasing little trifles, 
 which he will not crave for if he has money. The 
 old feeling died long ago ; but, thank Grod, the 
 theory of woman's love turning to hate does not 
 apply to my case. Now that he has fought so bravely, 
 I would not have him change if I could ; but I pray 
 that his heart may be opened. 
 
 "You must be careful of yourself, my brother; for 
 remember the happiness of more than your little 
 sister dq[>ends on your safe return. I shall write 
 often, and would make this longer, but a lot of my 
 * boys' are at the door, and I hear the clatter of 
 38 
 
446 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 crutches coming up behind me. Sometimes I read 
 for them. I have love letters to write for them 
 daily, and I have become an expert at the games of 
 ' Old Maid' and ' Muggings.' I play the latter game 
 very often with a dear little sergeant. Poor boy ! he 
 was badly wounded with Roeecrans ; but he looks so 
 good and happy, even with his sufferings, that he re- 
 minds me of you, a«d I call him 'my little brother,* 
 while at the same time I ask God to bless that big 
 brother at the front and return him in safety to his 
 " Affectionate sister, MaPwY." 
 
 A look of pride and intense satisfaction came over 
 the bronzed face of the soldier as he read this letter, 
 so indicative of self-denial from the once child of 
 luxury and ease. With the letter held in his hand as 
 he sat before the camp-fire, he thought to himself of 
 the noble influence exercised by such women on the 
 war, and the good done by the ministering angels, 
 who gave up home and comfort for trial and hardship 
 to carry out their love for their country and race. 
 God placed her so high and made her so pure that 
 her fall, if it comes, is great, and the stain is more 
 indelible than in the case of less sensitive man. The 
 merits of the Union and Southern causes could at any 
 time be seen, by one disinterested, in the action of 
 the women of each section. To the North, charity, 
 mercy, and patriotism were the ruling emotions. To 
 the South, patriotism, incited by hate ; but mercy 
 was dead in the hearts of women who would poison 
 water in the path of their foes ; who would cast off 
 the wounded wretch that crawled to her doorstep for 
 rest, and taunt and insult him in his very helplessness. 
 In the South the smile of a woman with rebel sympa- 
 
NORTHERN VERSUS SOUTHERN WOMEN. 447 
 
 thies was never seen in the hospitals where northern 
 wounded lay ; and the dwellers in the prison-pens will 
 all remember some woman who saw their sufferings 
 to gloat over their misery. 
 
 If in the unseen world there be an intermediate 
 state, there will be but few spirits of women there. 
 Purgatory is the abode of the indifferent. Who ever 
 heard of such a woman ? Among the pleasing recol- 
 lections of those days is that of the women of the 
 North, who, by presence and deeds, reminded their 
 brothers in every hour of trial of their deep devotion 
 to the cause ; and thinking of her well-filled mission 
 as an angel of mercy, the soldier feels that if in the 
 better land the angels have sex, the spirits of women 
 must rest nearer to the Throne, and theii voices must 
 sing the sweeter song c^ praise. 
 
CHAPTER XXXVIII 
 
 THE CONFEDERACY BISECTED. 
 
 It was a beautiful thought of the great general, 
 after the fall of the Mississippi strongholds, to say in 
 his dispatch after Vicksburg, "The Father of Waters 
 flows unvexed to the sea." The Confederacy was 
 bisected in July, '63, and to prevent communication 
 between the sections, gunboats were stationed at 
 intervals along the river, while others patroled it day 
 and night to prevent the enemy from crossing with 
 mails. Every skiff on the river was destroyed, and 
 scouting parties searched every creek and bayou for 
 canoes, rafts, and boats which the people on the river 
 might have secreted. Despite this vigilance the wings 
 of the Confederacy were in daily communication. 
 Copies of Shreveport papers obtained by the scouts a few 
 weeks after the fall of Vicksburg contained news from 
 the East subsequent to the Union control of the river. 
 
 Captain Warren received orders form the officer 
 commanding at Vicksburg to take whatever men he 
 needed and find out where the rebels crossed their 
 mails. Tennessee, whose acquaintance with North- 
 eastern Georgia rendered him invaluable to the army 
 there, was sent to Eosecrans after the fall of Vicksburg. 
 Captain Warren missed him very much, and when 
 they parted it was with the mutual pledge to meet 
 at the close of the war, and go to Texas together ; 
 
AGAIN IN THE SADDLE. 449 
 
 Tennessee promising to live on the Brazos if Robert 
 would agree to spend some of every month hunting 
 with him. Old man Dawn and little Ned remained 
 with Captain Warren, and he promised Tennessee to 
 bring them out all right when the fight was over. 
 
 Robert selected G-aines, Richardson, Old Dawn, Lit- 
 tle Ned — now a learned young man, as tall as his 
 uncle — and Archy to accompany him. 
 
 His plan was to enter the neutral country near Port 
 Gibson, where all the people were southern in their 
 feeling, and, by pretending to be on furlough from the 
 Eighth Texas, to interest the people in his crossing, 
 and in that way to find out the underground route to 
 Shreveport. Preparing such papers as he would need 
 to substantiate the character he was about to assume, 
 the scouts mounted and turned their horses' heads 
 toward the scenes of former exploits. They left the 
 Walnut Hill above Vicksburg about noon of the 27th, 
 and before night they were beyond the Big Black 
 and in the neutral territory, where the enemy had no 
 organized troops. The scout must reason in the same 
 way as a general commanding a larger expedition. 
 Indeed, an error of judgment would be more fatal to 
 the scout than to the superior officer. Captain War- 
 ren knew that if the enemy was crossing mails he 
 would carry them as far as possible by rail, and that 
 on the line between the railroad terminus at Bran- 
 don and the river he would find the information he 
 needed. He could not go to Brandon with safety, for 
 it was in the hands of the enemy, and he feared 
 meeting the courier or any of Colonel Scott's men, 
 who were so badly beaten at Yazoo City through his 
 instrumentality. 
 
 38* 
 
450 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Hobart's Station, a place burned by Grierson on his 
 famous raid, was the point aimed at, and early on the 
 following morning the scouts entered the place. As 
 they sat on their horses looking at the ruins of the 
 depot, two men came up, one dressed in a Confed- 
 erate uniform. 
 
 *'Who did that?" asked Captain Warren, pointing 
 to the ruins after he had saluted the strangers. 
 
 **The Yanks, whin they raided through har," said 
 the soldier in a quiet tone, while his companion, with 
 a New England ii^quisitiveness, asked : 
 
 ** Whar mout you an' your friens be agoin', stranger? 
 We haint got no troops about bar." 
 
 *'I am going west of the Mississippi if I can make 
 it with my friends. We are just from our army, and 
 are going home on furlough," said the captain. 
 
 ** Wall, stranger, you've got a hard road afore you. 
 Bome fellars, though, passes har a goin' west. Do n't 
 know how they gits across, but I reckon they does, 
 «eein' as how they don't come back." 
 
 This information was given by the old man. 
 
 **I intend staying about here to-day," said Robert ; 
 " our horses are tired, and I wa^it to learn all I can 
 about the crossing. By the way, my friend, can you 
 tell me where I can get our animals cared for ? I am 
 willing to pay well for it." 
 
 The old man replied to Robert : "I reckon we kin 
 keer for you an' the bosses, if you kin put up with 
 what we has — hog an' hominy." 
 
 "That is just what we Texans were raised on," 
 said Robert. ' ' But we care more for our horses, as 
 all cavalrymen should, than we do for ourselves." 
 
 The old man led the way to a house on the out- 
 
HUNTING THE CROSSING. 451 
 
 skirts of the little village, where, with his limited 
 accommodations,, he did everything in his power for 
 the comfort of man and beast. 
 
 During the day Eobert moved about, talking with 
 the people, and he succeeded in learning that Mr. 
 Stockhouse, who lived near Port Gribson, knew some- 
 thing about the crossing, as the mail carriers stopped 
 at his place. Early next morning Robert paid the 
 kind-hearted Mississippian the moderate sum of one 
 hundred dollars in graybacks for the accommodation 
 of himself and friends, and started for Port Gibson 
 to find Mr. Stockhouse. 
 
 They reached Port Gibson about the middle of the 
 afternoon, and with little difficulty ascertained the 
 whereabouts of the S:ockhouse plantation on the 
 Bayou Per^. Mr. Stockhouse was a short, florid, 
 little man, somewhat advanced in years, with a young 
 wife and an old daughter by a former marriage. He 
 agreed willingly to let Warren and his friends remain 
 all night, but he plead a total ignorance of mails and 
 mail-carriers. Miss Stockhouse was very agreeable, 
 and Mi's. Stockhouse more so. From the latter lady 
 the captain learned that a gentleman named Arkles, 
 living near Bruinsboro', had a boat, with which, for 
 a consideration, he was willing to transport men bound 
 west across the Mississippi. The next morning the 
 captain named Arkles to Mr. Stockhouse, and asked 
 for a letter to him. Mr. Stockhouse at first expressed 
 surprise, but finally consented to write to Mr. Arkles, 
 though he assured the captain he knew nothing about 
 the crossing, and he questioned if Mr. Arkles did. 
 Mr. Stockhouse, though "a good Southern man," did 
 not object to taking as large a sum of money as the 
 
452 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 scouts liaa paid the previous night. The ride to Mr. 
 Arkles's plantation was once familiar ground — the 
 very territory traversed by Grant in his advance on 
 Vicksburg. 
 
 About the middle of the afternoon of the day they 
 left Mr. Stockhouse's, Captain Warren and his friends 
 reached Mr. Arkles's, about four miles from the Mis- 
 sissippi River. Mr. Arkles was a wealthy planter. 
 He was a Northern man, and seemed to have but one 
 object, viz., the saving of his large plantation from 
 the people of either side. 
 
 To Captain Warren he was extremely reticent. He 
 knew nothing about crossing the river. When the 
 Federal troops under Grant had passed there he had 
 taken the oath of allegiance, and no inducement 
 could make him change. His honor and his conscience 
 were alike bound by that oath. 
 
 Captain Warren presented his side of the case. He 
 was a Texan, with a limited furlough. He wished to 
 cross the Mississippi, and money with him was no 
 object. He further urged that an oath under the cir- 
 cumstances represented by Mr. Arkles was not bind- 
 ing, and beyond that there was a duty which every 
 good man should not neglect — this was the duty he 
 owed to himself and to the Confederacy. 
 
 After Captain Warren's half-indignant speech on 
 this subject Mr. Arkles stroked his thin beard and 
 called him aside. 
 
 "I know, captain," he said, "you are a good man. 
 I can see that in your face, and I ain't one of them 
 as can be sold. But I tell you the truth, I am play- 
 ing a pretty bold game. The Yanks have destroyed 
 every skiff on the river, and believe they have full 
 
" AS INNOCi:NT as a lamb." 453 
 
 control of the Mississippi. They have, so far as their 
 gunboats are concerned ; but I was bom in Yankee 
 land, and I can pull the wool over their eyes. I have 
 built a skiff, which is now out in the gin-house. It 
 fits like a box in a wagon. I can put it on wheels, 
 and no man would know what it meant but myself. 
 I can take the box off on the banks of the river, and 
 after I have sent over our friends I can put the box 
 on the wagon and come back here as innocent as a 
 lamb." 
 
 " I am delighted to hear you speak so, Mr. Arkles," 
 said the captain. "I suppose you took your oath with 
 a mental reservation. Now tell me when you can 
 take us across." 
 
 " I hope to be able to put you over to-night. Mr. 
 Rose, of Shreveport, is expected here every hour from 
 Brandon. He is a splendid fellow. He hates Yan- 
 kees like the devil and feels proud of having thinned 
 oxit a few. I just wish we had more men like him. 
 I bet there would n't be many Yankee prisoners taken. 
 He 's just as full of fight as a wild-cat." 
 
 *'I shall be more than happy to get over the river 
 with your friend, Mr. Rose," said the captain as they 
 walked from the gin-house, where the boat was con- 
 cealed, to the house. 
 
 The residence of Mr. Arkles was like that of the 
 majority of Southern planters, low and flat, with a 
 wide gallery around it. As they sat upon the piazza, 
 after the evening meal, enjoying their pipes while they 
 listened to Mr. Arkles' s description of the Yankee 
 advance from the river to Yicksburg, a large man, 
 about forty years of age, mounted on a powerful 
 horse, rode up to the gallery and dismounted. The 
 
454 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 animal stood quietly while the rider, after dism -)unt. 
 ing, lifted off the heavy saddle-bags and unloosed the 
 pistol holsters and threw them over his arm. He was 
 a powerful man, over six feet in height, with coarse 
 features, rendered more repulsive by a gash over the 
 right eye and a broken nose, with the wide nostrils 
 starting, apparently, from the broad, brown face. 
 
 Throwing the bridle of his horse to a black man, 
 who approached as he dismounted, he walked with 
 the saddle-bags and holsters on his powerful arm to- 
 w^ard the house. 
 
 " Hello, Arkles, got the boat all right?" asked 
 Rose, in a voice so familiar that Robert could hardly 
 retain his seat. 
 
 "Glad to see you, Rose. Got the boat safe still. 
 
 I take a pride in being able to fool the d d Yan 
 
 kees. By the way, come over here ;" this was said 
 with a motion "of the hand to Rose, who was about 
 to enter the house. " Come, I want to introduce you 
 to some men who are going to Texas." 
 
 Rose turned, and, with a suspicious look on his 
 coarse face, said, as he shook hands with the party : 
 
 " Going to Texas, are yeh ? Well, the less com- 
 pany I have the better ; but if you 're boun* that way 
 I reckon w^e kin make out together. Ever in Texas 
 afore?" 
 
 •' Oh yes ; was raised there. Have relatives liv- 
 ing below Houston. Have been making my home in 
 Kentucky, but the Yanks are in there now, and I am 
 going west to spend my furlough — perhaps to join 
 our forces over there." 
 
 " Well, I believe your name 's Clay ; is it?" 
 
 *' Yes, a part of it, Mr. Rose." 
 
THE HOUR AND THE MAN". 45& 
 
 •'Know anybody around Brazoria, perhaps?" 
 
 *'0h, lots of people." 
 
 ♦' The h — 1 you say ! Wall, I knows some of 'em, 
 an' I reckon some of 'em knows Sam Rose. We '11 
 talk agin afore we start." 
 
 Rose called Mr. Arkles aside and strode into the 
 house. 
 
 " He does n't know us, Robert, but we know him. 
 Thank God for this chance. I have prayed for it. 
 When we drifted off on that raft I seemed to think 
 more of meeting this fellow and living for it than 
 anything else." 
 
 '* Hush, Gaines," said the captain. "'Time at last 
 sets all things even.' We have watched our hoiu". 
 Come, let us look at the horses." 
 
 The scouts went to the stable, where Archy was 
 busy cleaning the horses, and in a short time Mr. 
 Arkles, who had left Rose smoking on the gallery^ 
 joined them. 
 
 "Rose is narvous," said Mr. Arkles. " You see he 
 has a whole lot of letters and papers and money for 
 Kirby Smith, and in these times one do n't know who 
 to trust. I 've fixed it right, I reckon, but afore you 
 leave to-night won't you show him your papers?" 
 
 " Why, certainly," said the captain. "I will show 
 Mr. Rose my papers ; and say to him for me that I ad- 
 mire his caution, and will do all I can to get him over 
 the river safely." 
 
 Mr. Arkles left with a look of comfort on his face, 
 and on his return to the house the captain convinced 
 Mr. Rose of his earnestness by showing his papers and 
 offering his services to aid him in his important un- 
 dertakiog. 
 
456 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " I 'm glad to have you along, sir ; but yeh knows 
 one has to be keerful. I 've seen so many dogon'd 
 skunks that I 've begun to doubt my own . brother — 
 that is, I would doubt him if I had one," added Rose, 
 correcting himself. 
 
 •• All men bound by kindred interests, or battling 
 for a common principle, are brothers. Let me hope," 
 said the captain, "that no fear you may have enter- 
 tained may prevent your confiding in me fully if an 
 occasion should arise." 
 
 " I '11 lean on yeh, cap. Come, let *s have some 
 of Arkles's old peach to confirm our acquaintance ! " 
 All the men availed themselves of Rose's invita- 
 tion, and after the old peach they betook themselves 
 to the gallery and pipes. 
 
 ** I belong to Gould's Cavalry," said Rose, in answer 
 to an inquiry of Gaines. " We 've been stationed near 
 Cadder Lake for a long while, but when Vicksburg 
 went up, as I know'd the country well, I was detailed 
 as a courier; an', atween us, I makes it pay.'* 
 
 "You are right, Mr. Rose, to take care of No. 1, 
 particularly if it is in the line of duty,'* said Rich- 
 ardson, with a cold smile. 
 
 •♦ I tell you, cap.," said Rose, turning to Robert and 
 blowing a cloud of smoke from his corn-cob pipe, 
 " I came near making a pile out of some runaway 
 fellers from the part of the country you are going to." 
 •* You do n't say ! Tell me all about it," said 
 Robert, in a tone of genuine interest. 
 
 *' Wall, yeh see, 'twuz in the spring of '61, arter 
 we 'd voted out, thar wuz a feller named Warren — 
 maybe yeh know'd him ? " 
 
 "I think I did," said Robert, seeing that Rose 
 stopped foi <in answer. 
 
BRAVADO. 457 
 
 •*Tou see," continued Rose, "this feller Warren, 
 with another cuss an* a nigger, killed a whole lot of 
 folks in the woods near the town the night of the 
 election. Wall, they runned off up by Marshall an' 
 the lakes, an' a chap named Bentley arter them." 
 
 *• Oh yes, Bentley ! I knew Bentley ; he was after- 
 wards in the Eighth Texas Cavalry. Poor, brave fel- 
 low, he was killed last year." 
 
 Rose waited till Robert had finished before he 
 puffed out the smoke, which swelled his brown cheeks 
 till they looked as if they would burst. 
 
 "Yas, Bentley wuz purty fair, a little chicken- 
 hearted though ; but Warren — glad you do n't know 
 much of him ; he was a cuss. Bentley got me ter 
 help him arter Warren an' the other two. A party 
 of us chased 'em down the Shreveport road, an' we 'd 
 a got ' em as sure as shootin' if it was n't for an onery 
 houn' named Tennessee we had along. He helped 
 'em inter the bottom whar he had a frien' named Tad, 
 but somehow they got off, though I never see'd sich 
 a flood as followed. We cotched Tad, though he fit 
 like a catamount, an' wuz wounded, but we swung the 
 onery whelp to a tree near the creek an' burned down 
 his d d shanty." 
 
 ' ' You deserve a great deal of credit for your ser- 
 vices, Mr. Rose." As the captain spoke his lips grew 
 thin and hard-looking, and his gray eyes seemed to 
 grow black, while Gaines, to hide his own feelings, 
 walked to the end of the gallery. Rose did not notice 
 the change. He was completely off his guard, and 
 he continued with an air of bravado : 
 
 *'I think if ev'ry one did his duty like me thar 
 would n't be many Yankees left. I often thinks oi 
 39 
 
458 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 that spring an' the number of onery houj'^ I helped 
 string up." 
 
 " I presume you have been in battle, judging from 
 that wound on your face?" said the captain, in an in- 
 quiring tone. 
 
 "Wall, no; I've never been egsactly in battle," 
 said Rose, rubbing his finger over the livid wound till 
 it left a white mark and increased the hideousness of 
 his face, "but I got that in a fight as wuz a fight. 
 Cuss that black-hearted Warren, I say. Every time 
 I see or feel this woun' I cuss the houn', an' long ter 
 meet him an' cut his Yankee throat ! " 
 
 Rose's wound became more livid, his eyes rolled, 
 and the thick veins stood out like whip-cords in his 
 bull-like neck. 
 
 " Why, I did not suppose, from your story, that you 
 ever saw or had an encounter with this man Warren," 
 said the captain, as he leaned over and knocked the 
 ashes from his pipe on the edge of the gallery. 
 
 " No more I did n't fight him, 'cept one night in the 
 dark ; but we got that feller Tennessee arter, an' he 
 alius wuz a devil. He showed fight, and mashed me 
 here with his rifle." 
 
 " Of course you hanged this fellow you call Ten- 
 nessee?" said the captain. 
 
 " Wall, no, but we tried dogon'd hard. We put him 
 in jail an' give him a fair trial. Of course, he wuz 
 sentinced ; we all know'd that ; but somehow he got off 
 one night, an' I heerd since as how he'd joined Warren, 
 who's captain or suthin' of a lot of horse- thieves." 
 
 *' You don 't tell me 1 Is this Warren still in the 
 Yankee army?" asked Richardson with the shadow 
 of a smile on his quiet face. 
 
CHIVALRIC PRACTICES. 459 
 
 " Oh, yes. He 's h — 1 on bosses. He stole "Whar- 
 ton's hoss, I heard. He courts southern girls inside 
 our lines. An' I jist heard a few days sinee as how 
 he writ a letter to Joe Johnston. He can make him- 
 self black or white. I heard a man say he could 
 grow a whole crop of beard in one night. An' some 
 of the boys thinks the devil helps him. But some 
 day they '11 catch him, and then the devil won 't save 
 him. That 's what I 's got to say." 
 
 Rose refilled his pipe, while Robert said : 
 
 "You have interested me very much, Mr. Rose. 
 Let me hope this fellow Tennessee had enough 
 property to confiscate to remunerate you, at least in 
 satisfaction." 
 
 " No, he was poor as a Digger Ingin at Christmas. 
 He had a wife an' some children, an' a shanty, an' he 
 left them behind." 
 
 " That would be rather poor stock to confiscate, 
 Mr. Rose?" 
 
 "Yes, poor for the government, but cap, 'twas 
 enough for me. It mayn 't look jes' right to folks as 
 reads the Bible an' sings hymns, but a feller as has 
 a woun' on his face, an' mad in his heart, don 't stop 
 ter consult about goodness. Some one fired that ar 
 shanty whar Tennessee's wife lived, an' when she got 
 another that was fired too. She wuz a sassy white 
 wench as ever lived. She moved up to Tyler, but her 
 house wuz fired thar. An' her young ones got sick, 
 an' tliar's not one of Tennessee's whelps a livin'. Of 
 course I knows nothin' about it. His wife 's among 
 the Ingins, I hear. It don 't pay to fool with Sam 
 Rose." 
 
 A low chuckle, that sent the hot blood back from 
 
460 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the flushed cheeks of Robert Warren, succeeded this 
 Darration. 
 
 "I suppose we will start soon, Mr. Rose? It is 
 nearly dark now." 
 
 " Yas, jes' as scon as the critters feel right. They 
 have a long swim before them," replied Rose. 
 
 Robert suggested walking down to see t!ie horses, 
 but Rose announced his intention to take no unneces- 
 sary exercise. 
 
 At the stable Archy was busy with the horses, and 
 as soon as the captain made his appearance, he called 
 him aside. " Mauss Robut" — Archy paused as if to 
 catch his breath. 
 
 " I am listening, Archy." 
 
 *' Mauss Robut, dat 'ar man as own dis boss," 
 pointing to Rose's, " dat dar man's de one as chased 
 us to de lakes. Rose — don 't you ^member? " 
 
 *' Yes, I remember. And, Archy, I propose letting 
 Mr. Rose know before the sun rises again that I have 
 not forgotten it." 
 
 **May de good Lor* help yeh to press dat dar on 
 his mine," said Archy, as he turned to brush down 
 the horses. 
 
 Calling Graines, wlio was boiling over with anger, 
 and Richardson, who seemed to be steely cold, to one 
 side, he hurriedly told them his plans, and gave them 
 the signal to be used in overpowering Rose. Then they 
 returned to the house, where Rose still sat smoking, 
 and stroking his beard, and making white marks in 
 his purple wound with his thick fingers. 
 
 " I've just ordered the boy to load up the boat," 
 said Mr. Arkles, appearing in the gallery. " It will 
 be around soon ; and as it fits on the wagon bed just 
 
MODESTY AND MONEY. 461 
 
 like a box, why you can all pirt your saddle-bags an* 
 horse-traps into it." 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Arkles. You are a most thought- 
 ful man. Permit me now to settle with you, not only 
 for your hospitality, but also for our journey across 
 ^he river. How much will it be ? " 
 
 *' Well, I can *t just say. The care here ain't so 
 much, but I run a big risk of losing my team, and 
 my boy, every time, and then if the Yankees found 
 me out they would raise old Cain purty high, fur you 
 see I took the oath." 
 
 ' ' I know all that, of course, and am willing to pay 
 for your risk," said the captain. 
 
 *' Things has riz a good deal," said Mr. Arkles, 
 stroking his beard. I value that team an* boy this 
 blessed moment at eight thousand dollars." 
 
 " I think that a big price, sir, but I assure you I 
 have no desire to buy them," said the captain, laugh- 
 ing at the exorbitant sum. 
 
 " I know, but if I lose them serving you, it 's all the 
 
 same as if I sold them to you. Money is more 
 
 plenty than it was ; I only wish it was just as good." 
 
 " I wish it was, Mr. Arkles. Would you take less 
 
 in Yankee money ? ' ' 
 
 *' Of course he would nt touch the exited green 
 stuff," bellowed Rose, with a coarse laugh. " Pay 
 him five hundred apiece, in good Confed. That's 
 plenty." 
 
 "Yes, that's plenty," said Mr. Arkles. 
 ** Your modesty quite astounds me," said the cap- 
 tain. *' You will die poor, Mr. Arkles, but of course 
 the trifle of five hundred apiece does not include p<^v 
 ment for your princely hospitality ? " 
 S9* 
 
U% WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "That's for you to say, captain. I want to help 
 the cause all I can. If you can afford to give me 
 another hundred apiece, all right." 
 
 Robert had an abundance of the gray stuff always 
 on hand, and he paid the desired sum. As he was 
 doing so, Mr. Arkles called him aside, and said in a 
 whispe* : 
 
 " Captain, if you have greenback's, now I'm near 
 the Yankees they 'd be more useful. I '11 put you all 
 through for fifty dollars apiece, keep and all." 
 
 " I wish I could accommodate you, Mr Arkles, but 
 I have not that amount." 
 
 •' How much have you, sir." 
 
 " Well, not over one hundred dollars." 
 
 **I'll take one hundred dollars in greenbacks and 
 half the amount of Confederate I asked, if it will suit 
 you." 
 
 "You are very kind, but the fact is I keep the 
 greenbacks as a curiosity. Though in the army so 
 long, I have seen but little of this Yankee money, 
 and I want to hold onto it." 
 
 *• All right, captain, I 'd rather have the other, but 
 it ain't so convenient." 
 
 By this time the wagon was at the door, driven by a 
 stout-looking negro boy, and drawn by two very small 
 mules. Inside the boat were oars, ropes, pins for row- 
 locks, and bundles of hickory bark for torches. 
 
 " Them holes in the back part of the boat, and 
 along the side," said Mr. Arkles, as he held the light 
 while the saddle-bags were being p<ut in, "are for 
 pegs to fasten your horses heads to. You ^11 find, 
 with care, that it won't be hard to cross." 
 
 The horses were saddled, the wagon started. The 
 
CROSSING THE MISSISSIPPI. 463 
 
 men shook hands with Arkles, and, mounting, followed 
 the wagon down the sandy road. Under moss-cov- 
 ered branches, down heavy descents the wagon kept 
 on for more than an hour ; then, followed by the 
 horsemen, it descended a ravine, along wich flowed a 
 black creek bordered by cypress trees. A few hundred 
 yards down the wagon halted. A cold breeze and a 
 low murmur, with an undefined background to a 
 broad expanse, told them they were on the banks of 
 " The Father of Waters." 
 
 "Heah's de place, gemmens," said the black boy, 
 leaping from the wagon. 
 
 •' "Were you ever over here before?" asked Kobert. 
 
 ** Gosh-a-massy ! nearly ebery night, for a long 
 time," answered the black boy, as he proceeded to 
 unhitch his mules and fasten them to an adjoining tree. 
 
 The horses were quickly unsaddled, and it proved an 
 easy job for the strong arms to lift off the boat and 
 launch it in the black creek, that was swallowed 
 up in the great river a few yards down. The saddles 
 and bridles, with Rose's mail-bags and the rest of the 
 impediments, were stowed carefully away. The horses 
 were allowed to cool off for a few minutes before 
 leading them into the water. Then they were made 
 fast to the pins. Archy and the "boy" took the 
 oars. Robert appointed himself coxswain, with Rose 
 sitting at his feet, while the other two were detailed 
 to shorten the ropes and keep the horses close to the 
 boat. Robert had Senor along, and that noble animal 
 was as dainty of wetting himself as was the ill-starred 
 Don. 
 
 This was no ordinary undertaking, the crossing of 
 a wide, deep river on a dark night, with a frail shell 
 
46i- ' WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 of a boat, and five struggling, panting horses fastened , 
 to the side. 
 
 *' All ready, mauss," said the black boy. 
 
 " All ready," echoed the men. The oars were driven 
 into the muddy bank, the boat floated off, and the 
 horses followed, encouraged by the words of the men 
 in the boat. Out to the great river the horses waded ; 
 deeper and deeper the water became. With power- 
 ful strokes the black men bent to the oars. A few- 
 pulls in the swift current, and with a wild plunge the 
 horses descended and struggled to the side of the 
 boat, as if for protection. One mile before them 
 the river stretched, but every stroke lessened the dis- 
 tance. The explosive breathings of the frightened 
 animals became louder, and the men strained their 
 eyes for the farther shore. Out farther and farther, 
 till the middle of the stream was gained, and a black, 
 shadowy outline was marked against the starry sky, 
 and told them of the Louisiana shore. A feeling of 
 safety came over the party in the little boat, but it 
 came quickly to be dispelled. Down the dark river 
 rolled the tolling of a bell, with a puff, puff, puff, like 
 the breathing of a river monster, and an instant after- 
 ward the lights from the gunboat rounding the bend 
 above flooded the hitherto gloomy river, and rendered 
 visible the anxious faces in the boat and the strug- 
 gling horses alongside. The black men, with their 
 brawny arms bared, threw their souls into their oars, 
 and the boat moved faster than the horses. This 
 would not do. The position was critical in the ex- 
 treme. The patrol boat must discover them, and, sup- 
 posing them foes, a shower of grape would send the 
 boat to the bottom of the river with its loyal and 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE. 465 
 
 traitor inmates. The full force of the position flashed 
 upon Robert, and for the time a feeling of horror ran 
 through him, such as he had never before experienced. 
 Nearer and nearer came the boat. It appeared to be 
 rushing down on them as if aware of their whereabouts. 
 The black men showed signs of tiring, and at Robert's 
 request, Gaines and Richardson took their places and 
 bent to the oars. The steamer was abreast of them ; 
 men were seen hurrying along the deck ; the whistle 
 Bounded, there was a roar of escaping steam, and the 
 vessel became stationary. 
 
 The panting of the horses seemed to increase, and 
 the oars in the row-locks creaked as if they could be 
 heard across the river. 
 
 *' Oh, God ! let the horses go ; let the horses go I 
 We '11 be caught— pull, pull, pull !" 
 
 As Rose spoke he made an effort to untie one of 
 the horses, but the captain bent forward and caught 
 his arm. 
 
 " Hold, there ! Do n't dare to unfasten a horse. 
 Work easy, men, so as to keep about stationary." 
 This was said as Robert turned the boat's head up and 
 waited the result. 
 
 * ' Let me throw over my saddle-bags, capting. My 
 Lor* , if the Yanks wuz to git them !" 
 
 ** Be still, sir. I ' 11 talk to you if ^^e ever get on shore !" 
 
 Rose cowered down in the bottom of the boat with 
 his livid face turned to the light, and an expression of 
 fear upon it that made it perfectly hideous. 
 
 Another whistle from the steamer, more hurrying 
 along the deck with moving lights, then came the 
 steady puff, puff, puff, and the gunboat Rattler steamed 
 down toward Rodney. 
 
66 WAKREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " Pull away, boys, the danger is past," said the cap« 
 tain in a cheerful voice. 
 
 " Yes, pull away, boys !" said Rose, sitting up in 
 the boat. 
 
 A few minutes, and the horses began to stagger 
 along the unreliable bottom. The shingling shore 
 was seen running out, and a few strokes shot the flat- 
 bottomed boat on the gravelly beach, to which the 
 rowers leaped with an exclamation of delight. 
 
 " By thunder, that was nearer to the Yankees than I 
 ever want to be agin," said Rose as he jumped on 
 shore with his saddle-bags. 
 
 " Let the horses rest before saddling up. Boy, do 
 you return to Mr. Arkles's to-night?" 
 
 •' Yes, mauss ; I alius does when I comes down." 
 
 *' "Well, you have done nobly. I am sorry you have 
 to go back alone. Light one of those torches." 
 
 " The boy lighted the torch, and Robert handed 
 him a Confederate bill of a denomination so large 
 that it astonished Rose, who stood near by, and raised 
 the donor very much in his estimation, while it evoked 
 a torrent of verbal gratitude from the black boy, who 
 became quite patriarchal in his prayers and blessings 
 " for de young mauss." 
 
 The black boy pushed off the boat, bade all good 
 night, and was soon lost to sight on the river and in 
 the darkness. As they saddled up, Robert asked : 
 
 ** Where do you intend stopping for the rest of the 
 night. Rose ? Our horses are fatigued by this swim, 
 and I would rather not ride very far." 
 
 ""Wall, cap., thar's a place back heah a mile whar 
 we raout stop, but reckon 'taint safe, coz the Yankee 
 cavalry scout along thar. We 'd better git back eight 
 
OVER THE RIVER. 467 
 
 miles ter the Washita distreeck ; it 's safe that, aif we 
 kin res' to-mon'ow mornin'." 
 
 " Glad to see you so prudent, Rose. We will ride 
 for the Washita." 
 
 Up from the river the little party rode, Rose to the 
 left of the captain, the others immediately behind. 
 
 " I tell you, I '11 never get this night out of my 
 mind," said Rose after they had ridden some distance 
 in silence. " I do n't know what in thunder I 'd a did 
 if you wuz n't along." 
 
 " Oh, you are a brave fellow, Rose ! You would 
 have made out all right." 
 
 " I ain't so sure about making out. I 'd cut the 
 horse loose, anyhow." 
 
 " Yes, and the horse would have gone for the light, 
 and let the cat out of the bag at once. However, 'a 
 miss is as good as a mile.' My only fear was that 
 this crossing might be discovered, and then I would 
 have a tough time getting back next month when my 
 leave expires." 
 
 " You would n't go back this way, at any rate. Of 
 course not. I'll fix you for that before we part." 
 
 "What? Tell me how I can cross from this sidel" 
 
 *' Sartin, I kin ; an' as you 've got ter know, I do n't 
 mine lettin' it right out. Yeh mus' go down ter 
 Waterproof— 'tain' t far below this— an' hunt up Dr. 
 Campbell : he lives up the river from the town an' 
 right on the bluff. He 's got a boat, but of course 
 he '11 lie about it at first till he knows yer all right. 
 He 's sound on the Confederacy, an' '11 put yon over for 
 less than you give that cuss Arkles. But be keerfui ; 
 the doctor trades with the Yankees. He took the 
 oath, but says he did it with a reservation." As Rose 
 
468 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 finished he took a large chew of tobacco and tried to 
 laugh. 
 
 "I do n't think the Yankees are as bad as you im- 
 agine, Rose." They were now about two miles from 
 the river, and as the captain spoke he placed his horse 
 nearer to Rose, and quietly loosened a pistol in tbo 
 holster. 
 
 "Bad, did you say?" 
 
 "Yes, that's what I said." 
 
 "Why cap, the very devils are angels compared to 
 *em. Grod, ef I had the power I ' d crush them out as 
 I would snakes — I've helped do it to some on 'em." 
 
 **I was in their hands for some time ; they treat 
 prisoners very justly. Now if they had captured us 
 this evening, they would have been very considerate 
 of your claims to clemency." 
 
 "By G — , sir; I 'd rather be dead ! I never want 
 to try it." 
 
 "You don't!" 
 
 "Why, Lor', no! 
 
 "You must, sir; I am a Yankee, and you are my 
 prisoner." 
 
 A scream of fear and rage burst from Rose's lips 
 as he drove his spurs into his horse and tried to break 
 away. But a man who in days gone past had often 
 leaped from a horse while at full gallop, lariat in hand, 
 was by his side, and in an instant Rose was dashed 
 to the ground, with Archy's knee on his breast and 
 Archy's hand at his throat. Gaines and Richardson 
 dismounted, and with their pistols cocked they per- 
 mitted Rose to rise. A toiTent of oaths and impre- 
 cations came from Rose as he staggered to his feet. 
 
 "Gag him, and w^e will tie him to his horse.'* The 
 
A PICTURE OF FIERCE DESPAIR. 489 
 
 order was obeyed despite the struggles of Rose, and 
 with his arms fastened behind him, and his legs tied 
 imder the saddle, and the bridle in Archy's hand, the 
 scouts turned their horses' heads north for the penin- 
 sula before Vicksburg. 
 
 By daylight they stopped near a plantation, where 
 Richardson obtained com for the animals and food 
 for the men, and carried it out to camp. The pris- 
 oner was unbound, and the gag taken from his mouth, 
 on his promising not to attempt escape. He sat on 
 the ground, the picture of fierce despair, muttering 
 low curses and following Robert with his eyes. He 
 wished to ask a question, and at length he managed 
 in a hoarse, choking voice to say : "Ain't you War- 
 ren ? say, ain't yon Warren ?" 
 
 " Yes, my name is Warren ; I know you by reputa- 
 tion very well." 
 
 " You are going to hang me, ain't you ? Wall, hang 
 and be d -d ; I *ve paid you aforehand." 
 
 "I purpose taking you to Yicksburg, and handing 
 you over to General Osterhaus. I can't imagine what 
 he will do with such a fiend as you are by your own 
 confession." 
 
 " See heab, Warren, I allcrs heard you wui a brar© 
 man. Give me a chance for my life. Let me run 
 for it, an' kill me if yeh catch me." 
 
 **I am not anxious for such hunts. If you had a 
 spark of manhood about you, I would do all I could 
 to make your position easier, but I cannot forget my 
 own sufferings, Tad's death, the burning of Tennessee's 
 shanty, and the death of his little ones. Talk no more 
 to me — I may be tempted to forget myself and hang 
 you on the spot." 
 
 40 
 
470 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ••I did n't kill the young ones. I swar they died of 
 sickness. It was n't my fault." A shudder ran through 
 Rose's frame, and he closed his eyes tightly as he spoke, 
 as if to shut out some fearful picture brought to view 
 by the naming of *' Tennessee's children." 
 
 Robert was more excited than he seemed, for he 
 had catalogued the wickedness of the fiend before 
 him, and the hot blood throbbed in his usually cool 
 head. Brave Tennessee covered with wounds, his 
 little home in ruins, his little ones dead, his wife 
 among the Indians — all this flashed through Rob- 
 ert's mind. Much of this suffering, he thought, 
 had been brought on the noble-hearted Tennessee 
 by his fidelity to himself, Robert Warren. If Tennes- 
 see w^ere with him then, the wretch before him would 
 not live a moment. 
 
 Robert walked away and talked with Gaines. 
 
 **I would hang him on the spot, captain; such a 
 brute ought not to live a moment," said G-aines, ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 **I would not," said Richardson ; "we are within 
 ten miles of Vicksburg ; let us start at once and hand 
 this villain over to the proper authorities. All his 
 boasted crimes may be lies. What he did that you 
 know of, that terrible purple wound and disfigured 
 face has paid for." 
 
 "You are right, Richardson, you are right. Let us 
 start at once." Robert turned as he spoke, startled 
 by a yell, and to see Rose with a knife in his hand 
 rushing in the opposite direction to where he stood. 
 It was unnecessary to shout "Archy ! Archy ! after 
 him, quick !" as all seized their pistols and started in 
 pursuit. 
 
ESCAPE, RECAPTURE, AND DEATH. 471 
 
 Archy was not ten yards behind the fugitive, who, 
 nerved by desperation, seemed to fly over the ground* 
 He was older and heavier than Archy, but in activity, 
 strength, and fleetness, far his inferior. The race was 
 short. A fence barred the advance unexpectedly, 
 and then Eose turned with uplifted knife and struck 
 his pursuer, who was close upon him. Archy caught 
 the arm that held the knife, and the weapon dropped 
 from the relaxed fingers. Then both men clinched ; 
 it was but for a second. Stepping on a frail stick, 
 Archy slipped, with his arms about Rose, and both 
 men fell, Archy below. Quick as a flash Rose seized 
 the knife, and tried to disengage his arm for the blow, 
 but before he could raise it, Richardson's pistol 
 flashed, and Rose leaped back and fell with a small 
 red hole in his forehead above the purple wound. 
 "Why, Archy, what are you good for?" 
 "Why, I cotched him, an' was n't watchin'. Why, 
 Mauss Robut, I jest wish yeh'd let us alone two 
 minutes more, I 'd a had his throat in my hand, an' you 
 know that's short work." 
 
 A few tremors of the powerful frame, a spasmodic 
 gasping as if struggling to retain the spirit, and Rose 
 lay dead 'neath the fence. A search of his person 
 discovered valuable dispatches for Smith and Magru- 
 der. 
 
 Returning to camp they mounted hastily, and as 
 they were about to start a negro came in, to whom 
 Robert paid some money on his promising to bury 
 Rose. 
 
 Back safely to Vicksburg the scouting party got, 
 with information more valuable than was expected. 
 This exploit was so well managed that Warren ex- 
 
472 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 changed "the knightly bars" for " the golden leaves,** 
 and received a special mention from his superior 
 officer. It is unnecessary to say that Mr. Arkles was 
 attended to, and that Dr. Campbell at Waterproof 
 had his trade and his boat cut off. 
 
CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 IN HOSPITAL. 
 
 Shortly after the adventure narrated in the pre- 
 ceding chapter, the scouts were ordered to report to 
 General Rosecrans, then advancing after Bragg through 
 the mountain fastnesses of Northwestern Georgia. 
 Tennessee, whose acquaintance with that region was 
 invaluable, had been ordered on, and now the rest 
 were going to the field of greater activities. Unfortu- 
 nately for Robert Warren, he was at this time attacked 
 by the malarious fever incident to the lower valley 
 of the Mississippi and particularly to the region along 
 the Big Black and Yazoo. He was forced for the 
 time to remain behind, and it pained him more than 
 his illness to part with his friends Gaines and Rich- 
 ardson. Archy of course staid behind and watched 
 his master during the first week of delirium and fever. 
 At his request Mary was not informed of his illness, 
 and knowing that the fever was not fatal he waited 
 patiently till it spent its force. During the period of 
 his convalescence, he was placed on light post duty, 
 though he yearned to be with Rosecrans and his own 
 men. The incident of his illness changed the whole 
 course of his subsequent military career, and though 
 it deprived him of the excitement incident to the 
 movements of large armies, it increased his oppor- 
 tunities for individual adventures, and gave him as 
 40* 
 
474 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 good a chance for the display of his 'undoubted abil- 
 ities. Sherman's raid on Meridian was one of the 
 boldest, and at the same time one of the most futile 
 expeditions of the war, and had that famous officer's 
 military record closed with this exploit his name 
 would be much less brilliant ; and yet the undertaking 
 in the hands of any other man would have been more 
 than a failure — it would have been a complete disaster. 
 For some time prior to the raid on Meridian, Western 
 and Central Mississippi was the scene of constant 
 skirmishes, and the scouting ground of small bodies 
 from either side. 
 
 Robert Warren was retained by G-eneral Osterhaus 
 at Vicksburg much against his wish. The destruction 
 of a few secreted boats on the Mississippi did not 
 stop the crossing of mails ; had it done so it would 
 have been little to the credit of the Confederates, 
 who had ample opportunity to cross, in the abscence 
 of patrol boats, at any point between Memphis and 
 New Orleans. Mails were not only crossed nightly, 
 but herds of cattle from Texas were swum over below 
 Natchez, and the Confederates becoming familiar 
 with the once dreaded gunboats, sent light batteries 
 to the wooded bends of the river, where they proved 
 a constant annoyance to the steamers, and necessi- 
 tated the organization of a number of small land ex- 
 peditions against them. The country between Water- 
 proof and Natchez was particularly dangerous, owing 
 to the constant annoyance of Smith's gang and their 
 artillery. This Smith was a German who had been 
 an artillery officer in his own country. Before the 
 war he drifted into Waterproof, and after hostilities 
 began he went into the Southern army, more from a 
 
IN THE SADDLE AGAIN. 475 
 
 love of excitement than any prompting of principle. 
 He knew enough of military movements to be looked up 
 to with admiration by his followers, and his want of 
 feeling and natural cruelty stood for the hate and 
 vindictiveness of the men he had gathered about him. 
 He was, like all innate cowards, much given to brag- 
 ging, and one of his boasts was the hanging of a poor 
 drunken Yankee caught away from his command. 
 The planters along the river were in league with 
 Smith, and when he was pursued his forces always 
 scattered, and were sure to be secreted in the differ- 
 ent plantations bordering the Mississippi. 
 
 About the middle of September a fugitive negro 
 came to Rodney, below Vicksburg, and reported Smith 
 with some sixty men at Holcomb's, thirty miles down 
 the river, where he was preparing for a raid. The 
 soldiers and sailors stationed at llodney owed Smith 
 a grudge, for, a short time before, in the abscence of 
 troops, a number of officers from the gunboat Rattler 
 went on shore to church, and during the service Smith's 
 men appeared, stopped the clergyman with their 
 cocked revolvers, and carried the officers away pris- 
 oners. The news of Smith's proximity was speedily 
 sent to Ticksburg, and a cavalry force organized to 
 hunt him. Warren was given command of the expe- 
 dition, and, though not fully recovered from his fever, 
 the prospect of active service had a better effect than 
 all the medicine at the corps hospital. 
 
 Much of the country to be passed over was already 
 familiar by the advance on Vicksburg and the fre- 
 quent scouts before and after the siege. This fact, 
 added to the success which had attended Warren's 
 previous service, was the cause of his selection, and 
 
476 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 he determined, as his force of one hundred men started 
 southeast from the Wahiut Hills, that the confidence 
 of his superiors should not be misplaced. Captain 
 Rolston and Lieutenant Thomas, of Missouri, as brave 
 men as ever carried saber, accompanied the expedi- 
 tion, and, being both young and unused to this kind of 
 service, they looked up to Warren as a. veritable hero, 
 and felt proud to be under an officer who had been 
 so successful. 
 
 The evening of the day on which they started from 
 Vicksburg they went into camp below Warrenton, on 
 the west side of the Big Black. The position was 
 elevated, overlooking the river, and surrounded by 
 great gloomy trees, that spread away to the river 
 and along it in dark green vistas, that grew gloomy 
 and weird-looking by the light of the camp, as the 
 evening wind shook the heavy live-oak branches, 
 and the long, gray moss swung back and forth with a 
 chilling, mysterious sound. The men had picketed 
 their horses and eaten their suppers ; the videttes 
 were stationed, and about the blazing fires, that shone 
 on trees adorned with sabers and carbines, the bronzed 
 soldiers reclined and smoked with as much happiness 
 as if on a picnic near their northern homes. The 
 fire about which the officers gathered, and where 
 Archy was the presiding spirit, was below the main 
 camp, and on the only line by which an enemy could 
 approach on that side of the river. Suddenly, on the 
 opposite shore of the Big Black, a score of camp- 
 fires lit the crest of the hill and drove the shadows 
 from the live-oaks. Forms in gray were busy about 
 them, and wearied horses, relieved of their saddles, 
 rolled on the mossy earth. Down to the river th« 
 
OUTPOST COURTESIES. 47^ 
 
 rebel soldiers, either unconscious of or uncaring for 
 the fire on the opposite bank, so visible, came to water 
 their horses and wash their own dust-covered faces. 
 The proceeding was very strange ; and Warren, who 
 had no desire at that time to bring on a useless 
 skirmish across the river, had everything in readiness 
 for an attack. The river at this point was about six 
 hundred feet across, and the distance between the 
 two camps certainly not over twice that distance. 
 The Union cavalrymen, in the indistinct light, could 
 see a number of men examining the trees with a torch 
 along the opposite shore. At length one of them 
 gave a very inelegant expression of surprise, and 
 shouted out : 
 
 ** I »ve got it, I sirear to h— 1 1 " 
 
 This increased the mystery of the search to the 
 Union men, particularly when an axe was seen gleam- 
 ing in the torchlight and the faint strokes came over 
 the river, as the instrument, swung by a stalwart 
 fellow, was buried again and again in the root of 
 the tree. 
 
 All this was too much for the curiosity of a cavalry- 
 man up the river. He approached the water, and, 
 placing his hands to his mouth the better to convey 
 the sound, he called out : 
 
 ♦' Hello there ! " 
 
 The reply came back : 
 
 " Hello thar yerself, an' see how ye '11 like it I ** 
 
 ** Say, say ! " from the cavalryman. 
 
 •• Say away ! " from the rebel. 
 
 "Are you fellows Johnnies?" 
 
 Over the river came the answer : 
 
 " Bet yer bottom dollar we are." 
 
478 WAEREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 " What in thunder are you cuttin' that little tree 
 for? It ain't done you no harm," from tke Yankee. 
 
 **No! Tt'sgoin* to do us a power of good," an- 
 swered the rebel. 
 
 "Well, tell us what it's fori" roared the cavalry- 
 man, whose curiosity grew more excited. 
 
 " Why, you blue-bellied son of a gun, we *re gittin' 
 sassafras to make coffee ! " 
 
 This reply was so unexpected, so harmless, and so 
 probable, that it was hailed with a shout of merriment 
 from the Union camp. 
 
 *' Come over here and get some real coffee ! " called 
 out one of the Yankees. 
 
 The words " real coffee " seemed to have a magical 
 effect on the men about the sassafras tree. They 
 stopped, held a short consultation, sent one of their 
 number up the hill, and then the man with the torch 
 walked out and stood so distinctly visible against the 
 dark background of the hill, that any man on the 
 opposite shore could have killed him with his carbine. 
 Among the old soldiers of both sides, however, an 
 unarmed man on the picket line was safe, and the 
 pickets themselves, when not ordered to fire by their 
 officers ; and even at such times it was customary to 
 give warning in the words of the negro song, " Look 
 out dar now, I 'se a-gwine to shoot," or "Hunt yer 
 hole, Johnny," or "Yank," as the case might be. 
 
 The man with the torch waved it like a truce signal, 
 and believing he had commanded the attention of 
 the men on the opposite shore, he called out : 
 
 " Who are you ? What Yanks ? " 
 
 Wan-en, with his officers, staid quietly back during 
 the conversation. 
 
BARTER. 479 
 
 "We're from Yicksburg, out on a hunt. Come 
 over an' get yer coffee." 
 
 "See here, Yank, we 're squar' soldiers over heah— 
 Major Dwight's battalion. If we send will you let us 
 come back with the coffee?" 
 
 This was a poser. One of the men came running 
 back to where the officers stood, and, saluting the 
 major, he asked : 
 
 ♦'Major Warren, would you have any objection to 
 our trading some coffee with the Johnnies for to- 
 bacco?" 
 
 " Not in the least, if you can inform me how it is 
 to be done." 
 
 " There 's a canoe, sir, just above here ; we could 
 send it over." 
 
 «* Yes, but suppose the Johnnies keep the canoe and 
 man?" 
 
 " Why, major, you do n*t think they 'd be so dam 'd 
 mean as that?" 
 
 The possibility of such a thing being done never 
 entered into the soldier's head. 
 
 " See what they say," said Warren. " Do n't send 
 any coffee with the canoe ; they must come over for 
 it." 
 
 " Thank you, sir," said the soldier, in a rejoiced 
 tone, as he saluted and started back to the river." 
 
 A large number of gray-coats without arms came 
 down from the camp-fires, while the man with the 
 torch waved it in fiery circles above his head, either 
 to keep it burning or from excitement at the prospect 
 of getting some real coffee. 
 
 " Have you fellows a boat ? " called out a Yankee. 
 "Nary boat ; but we can make a raft." 
 
480 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ** Never mind the raft ; we '11 send over a canoe/' 
 said the Yankee. 
 
 A score of men was ready to volunteer. One stal- 
 wart young fellow stepped in, and, seizing the paddle, 
 pushed into the river, and was watched by the anxious 
 crowds on each side till he touched the opposite 
 shore. 
 
 The noise of his greeting, "How are you, Yank? 
 Glad to see you I Whar 's the coffee?" and kindred 
 salutations were distinctly audible on the opposite 
 side. In few minutes the canoe was seen returning 
 with two additional occupants, who were met with a 
 greeting as warm as the Yankee had received. The 
 coffee was soon forthcoming and the tobacco delivered, 
 and, after shaking hands all aroimd, the Union cav- 
 alryman carried the Confederate over the river and 
 returned with the canoe. 
 
 The camp-fires burned more brightly for the short 
 visit of peace, and more than one man on the oppo- 
 site banks prayed that it might be speedily made 
 permanent. Just before nine o'clock the song of 
 ** Auld Lang Syne" was started by one of the Union 
 soldiers, and it spread like a pleasant contagion from 
 fire to fire. Over the black river it floated, and was 
 taken up by the men who had just drank real coffee 
 provided by their enemies, and the last chorus echoed 
 through the grand, gloomy woods with an effect not 
 soon to be forgotten. Hardly had '*Auld Lang 
 Syne " died out when one of the Confederates started 
 the air of "Old Hundred." The words were not 
 audible to his enemies, but the dear, familiar chorus 
 came back grateful, and friend and foe took up the 
 air with feeling. The fires gradually grew dim, and 
 
AN ADROIT CAPTURE. 481 
 
 with silence and darkness the caution of the videttes 
 increased, lest the men with whom they had just 
 joked and sang should steal upon them unawares with 
 uplifted swords. And this is war. 
 
 Long before day, without lighting a fire, Warren*s 
 men saddled, and ere the sun rose they were across 
 the Big Black and ten miles from the camp of the 
 previous evening. 
 
 By noon the next day the command was eighty 
 miles from Vicksburg by the road it had traveled, but 
 Smith was not there. From some negroes Major 
 Warren learned that Smith had started east that 
 morning with about fifty men and three pieces of 
 artillery. Resting for a short time, they turned east 
 on the road Smith had taken, making inquiries along 
 the road from the negroes. Shortly after sundown 
 they learned that Smith was in camp a mile or two 
 beyond. Ascertaining definitely the place and force, 
 the negro who gave the information was detained to 
 act as a guide. Waiting for darkness, and to rest the 
 men and horses, they started for the plantation where 
 Smith was said to be about ten o'clock. Dismount- 
 ing the men some distance from the plantation, a 
 sufficient guard was left with the horses, and about 
 seventy men advanced so as to surround the house 
 and yard where Smith and his men were in camp. 
 
 The surprise was complete. There was not a guard 
 mounted, and before the rebels knew it they were 
 powerless to resist, and prudently surrendered. Smith 
 himself was in the house, and was somewhat aston- 
 ished at being called out, and more at finding a pistol 
 to his head, accompanied with the demand to surrender. 
 This he refused to do, and, calling on his men to 
 41 
 
4«2 TTARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 fight, be rushed toward the place where they were in 
 camp. It was the rashness of a coward, and he paid 
 for it. i^efore he had gone ten paces a carbine 
 flashed before him and Smith fell, shot through the 
 heart. 
 
 The prisoners were carefully guarded till the early 
 morning, when the Yankees, obtaining a couple of 
 wagons from the planter at w^hose place they were, 
 they piled in the arms and started north with the 
 prisoners and the three six-pounders for Vicksburg. 
 
 Warren's hopes were that he could get back to 
 Vicksburg without encountering the enemy in any 
 force, and report the success of his undertaking. His 
 very desires increased his caution and anxiety. 
 
 Late in the afternoon, in company with Archy and 
 an orderly, he rode some distance ahead of the line, 
 with the intention of selecting a camping place. They 
 passed over a slight elevation in the road, and were 
 about to halt before a patch of timber through which 
 the road ran, when suddenly a dozen armed iren 
 sprang from the woods, and, while some seized the 
 bridles and led the horses in from the road, the others, 
 with fingers on the trigger, commanded that the 
 prisoners utter not a word. They were hardly out of 
 sight of the road when the tramping of the Union 
 cavalry passing was heard, and the prisoners listened 
 with throbbing hearts till the sound of the retreating 
 horsemen was lost. Then the lieutenant in charge of 
 the rebels, quite a body of whom was in the woods, 
 advanced toward Warren, and, taking Sefior's bridle 
 from Archy, he turned the horse over to one of his 
 men. 
 
 "Sorry for your fix, sir," said the lieutenant, ap- 
 <!roaching Major Warren. 
 
WARREN A PRISONER. 485 
 
 " Not half as sorry as I am," replied the major. 
 
 *' Of course you have greenbacks about you? You 
 will have no need for them in the place you are going 
 to. Permit me to take charge of them." The lieu- 
 tenant was a cool, bland fellow, and as he spoke he 
 twisted his belt till the pistol-holster protruded in 
 suggestive proximity to his right hand. There was 
 no use in opposing this demand, so Warren quietly 
 took out his pocket-book and handed the lieutenant 
 four hundred and fifty dollars. 
 
 "I desire to retain the pocket-book, sir," said the 
 major. "You have all that can be of value to you. 
 The contents, as you can see, consist of private 
 papers and the pictures of my friends." 
 
 " No desire, sir, to interfere with your private 
 affairs," said the lieutenant, as he fumbled the green- 
 backs over in his hands. " Permit me to say, sir, this 
 is d — d pretty money for paper." 
 
 '* Yes ; I think it is artistically good, and intrinsi- 
 cally better than the graybacks your people have to 
 use in such quantities as to give them value." 
 
 *' You are mistaken, my friend. Our paper ain't 
 beautiful, but it's mighty good. Now there is a chance 
 of your visiting us for some time, let me, as a man 
 who has your interests at heart, give a little advice. 
 All paper is valuable in the South. Of course, it re- 
 quires some training to know what is cash, but when- 
 ever you get hold of a document with the picture of 
 a locomotive or a woman on it — two of the fastest 
 things in creation — hang on to that paper for life ; 
 that's money." 
 
 Major Warren could not suppress a smile at this ad- 
 vice. But his face lengthened when the lieutenant 
 asked : "What is your name, sir?" 
 
«94 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "K.-jbert Warren, major of United States Yolun» 
 teers," was the reply. 
 
 " Major Warren. Your name sounds familiar, though 
 I canttot recall the connection. By the way, major, 
 you wear very fine boots. Might I inquire the size? ' 
 
 The lieutenant looked yeaningly at the major's long 
 cavalry boots atd compared them, judging from hia 
 glances, with his own. 
 
 *•! wear sevens, I believe, sir," replied the major. 
 
 ♦ • That is very curious ; do you know, major, that is 
 just my size ? ai^d while I have no desire to exchange 
 positions with you, my selfish heart prompts me to 
 stand in your shoes.' * 
 
 As the lieutenant concluded a loud laugh from hia 
 men, who were gathered around, greeted his coarse 
 wit, and a score of voices called out : *' Come up out 
 of them boots ! Gome up ! I know yer thar ; see yer 
 head a stickin' out,'* and kindred expressions, peculiar 
 to the jocose soldiers of both sides. 
 
 There was no getting out of it, so Robert Warren 
 pulled off his boots, and the lieutenant did the same, 
 and graciously passed his old ones to his prisoner as 
 he pulled on the new. 
 
 W^hile the officer was "going through" Robert 
 Warren, closing with his watch and pocket-knife, the 
 orderly was thoroughly fleeced by the men, even to 
 his blue pants, and he was so completely changed that 
 Robert scarcely knew him. 
 
 By this time it had grown completely dark in the 
 woods, and Warren's wondering command had gone 
 on some miles. 
 
 The lieutenant, wisely believing a search would be 
 at once instituted for the missing officer, started east 
 
REBEL BLUSTER. 485 
 
 through the woods, mounting his prisoners and keep- 
 ing them safely guarded. 
 
 It was 12 o'clock before the Confederates halted at 
 a plantation, where they procured provisions for the 
 prisoners, and permitted them to sleep without 
 blankets near one of the fires. Archy took off his 
 coat, as his master lay on the ground, and insisted on 
 his master's putting it over him. The major kindly 
 refused, and one of the guards, seeing the transaction, 
 advanced and said to Archy : 
 
 " See here, boy, that ar 's a good coat. You do n't 
 seem to have much use for it. Jest fork it over, will 
 yer?" 
 
 This was accompanied by a gesture so imperative 
 that Archy at once handed over the stout, blue jacket. 
 
 The lieutenant was the guest of the planter, at 
 whose house they stopped, and that worthy could not 
 curb his. curiosity. He came out, pipe in hand, to 
 look at the prisoners, and to offer in a truly Southern 
 way his opinion of the Yankees, and his confidence 
 in the success of the Confederacy. Major "Warren 
 did not deign to notice the son of chivalry, which fact 
 incensed his anger and added to the fire of his pro- 
 longed denunciation. 
 
 As Robert lay dozing before the fire, with strange 
 fears and wild dreams haunting his mind, the lieuten- 
 ant, somewhat the worse for his evening's libations 
 with the planter, laid his hand on his shoulder. 
 
 "I'm going to take you to Brandon to-morrow, 
 major, and then, I reckon, they '11 send you on to 
 Mobile. Mobile is just the bulliest town, provided, 
 of course, that one is at liberty to see the sights." 
 
 *' Well, sir, you are at liberty to rob me, insult me, 
 41* 
 
486 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and send me where you please. Might I ask what 
 command is honored by the service of so gallant a 
 gentleman ?" As Robert spoke he half rose before 
 the fiend and looke<i into the dnmken eyes of the 
 lieutenant. 
 
 " Ask any question you choose, so 's it ain't insult- 
 in*," said the lieutenant, playing with the handle of 
 his revolver. ** I belong to Scott's Cavalry, now sta- 
 tioned at Brandon ; and I want to tell you I 'm one 
 of them chaps that would rather blow the head off a 
 d d Yankee than not ! " 
 
 ♦' There are cowards of that kiad, who are always 
 brave in the presence of unarmed men and old women. 
 Tliey are the robbers of the helpless and insulters of 
 the defenseless ! " Robert ros^ as he spoke. " And 
 I am satisfied you are one of them!" He looked 
 into the unsteady eyes of the lieutenant, and the rebel 
 dropped his hands by his side and muttered : 
 
 " I do n't fight with prisoners." 
 
 Archy lay on the ground close by, his black eyes 
 burning, his left arm drawn under him, and his power- 
 ful limbs ready for a spring. 
 
 The lieutenant walked away, growling as he did : 
 
 • ' By , you chaps have got to walk to-morrow, 
 
 and if you do n't keep up with the horses, then may I 
 bed d!" 
 
 The mon'ow came, cold and cheerless, with a driz- 
 zling rain that extinguished the fires before the rebels 
 started. Some of the soldiers divided their rations 
 of corn-bread and bacon with the prisoners, and then 
 they began the march over the sandy roads. The 
 rebels led three horses without riders, while the three 
 prisoners walked, with three guards behind them. 
 
BARE-FOOTED AND TORTURED. 487 
 
 Robert was not accustomed to walking, but he did not 
 complain. The lieuten'ant's boots did not fit him, and 
 early in the day he took them off and carried them 
 over his shoulder. One of the guards saw the boots 
 and speedily relieved him of them, while another guard 
 took aiivantage of the circumstance to exchange hats. 
 The sand was deep and soft, and the socks soon 
 became full of the keen particles, so that by noon 
 every step taken produced the most excruciating pain. 
 The rebels halted for a short time to rest their horses 
 and feet ; but the prisoners were kept away from the 
 water, of which their hot, blistered feet were so much 
 in need. Then the march began, and the scalding 
 pain gave place to a numb, heavy feeling, and the 
 white sand clung like a mass of venomous insects to 
 the bleeding, blistered feet. Yet on they walked, 
 the horses in front without riders, the armed guards 
 behind. Conversation was prohibited, yet Archy 
 muttered words of religious comfort as he walked 
 beside his master, and brave Bob Clark, of Bucyrus, 
 Ohio, laughed as if the walk was a pleasure, while 
 his pale lips worked hard with the effort to appear 
 gay. The fever was still in Robert Warren's body, 
 and he felt the heat and chill chasing each other 
 through his veins, and, above all, the excruciating 
 pain of his feet at every step they took. His apparent 
 indifference to pain w^ould have won him the position 
 of a Cheyenne Indian anxious to show his abilities 
 for the war-path. Yet his heart fell when in the 
 rainy twilight the rebels, with their prisoners, halted 
 on the banks of Pearl River, in the very woods where 
 a short time before Warren and his scouts captured 
 Joe Johnston's courier. 
 
488 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The lieutenant slept at the ferry, while the men 
 built fires of pine boughs and went into camp in the 
 woods. The ground was damp, and the prisoners, 
 without covering for their tired bodies or water to 
 wash their blistered feet, lay down, so exhausted by 
 the march of thirty-eight miles that they slept despite 
 hunger, cold, and pain. 
 
 Morning came rapidly, and with it a clear sky and 
 a bright warm sun. A ration of badly-cooked corn- 
 bread was served to the prisoners, and then they 
 marched to the ferry, where the were carried across. 
 They were stiff and tired, and the lieutenant seemed 
 pained because he had not the time to make his pris- 
 oners swim instead of carrying them. 
 
 They reached Brandon early in the day, and were 
 conducted to a dilapidated building with an earthen 
 floor, in which were crowded a number of rebel deser- 
 ters, negroes, and a few Yankee prisoners. The place 
 was filthy in the extreme, and the inmates, as a class, 
 were the most disreputable representatives of a large 
 class in the Southern army. Though Robert wore no 
 insignia of rank, the men in "the guard-house" — for 
 Buch the wretched place was called — greeted him as 
 "colonel," and those at first inclined to jeer soon 
 treated hira with kindness and consideration. Archy 
 was still with him, and he surprised Robert that night 
 by handing him a pair of new socks. 
 
 " Mauss Robut, I reckon I' se washed yer poor feet 
 all clean, now heah's a nice pair of socks. Miss Mary 
 guv *em to me, Susey guv 'em to her for me, and I 'se 
 been a hangin' on to 'em fur Susey." 
 
 *' I will take them, Archy, for my feet seem on fire. 
 Ah, that water was so coolmg. I never knew one's 
 
SHOD AND SHELTERED. 489 
 
 feet ccmld be so sensitive. The socks feel nice and . 
 soft, Archy. I only wish I had a pair of shoes." 
 
 Archy looked down at his own large feet and then 
 at the smaller and finely-shaped feet of his master. 
 He evidently made up his mind it would not do to 
 suggest wearing his own, for they were much too large. 
 He cooked the corn-meal ration that was served out, 
 on a griddle that seemed to be used by the prisoners 
 in common, and after his master had eaten a little he 
 went to the o'vher end of the prison. Kobert watched 
 him talking to a young man very earnestly, and at 
 times stooping down to feel the young man's boots, 
 and make commentaries evidently unfavorable to the, 
 articles in question, for the young man would lift up 
 his foot, slap the covering, and then make emphatic 
 gestures intended to imply that the boots were of the 
 best quality and that a great sum of money would be 
 necessary to replace them — a fact, but the great diffi- 
 culty was to duplicate them at once. Archy held some- 
 thing in his hand that flashed in the light that blazed 
 in the middle of the room, and the young man's eyes 
 seemed fascinated by the yellow sheen. He stooped, 
 pulled off his boots, and as he handed them to Archy 
 the glittering coin passed into his hand, and Archy's 
 black face shone with delight. Putting the boots 
 under his arm be came back to where his master lay 
 on the ground. 
 
 "Mauss Bob, de Lor' '11 pervide for all what puts 
 trus* in Him. Heah 's de boots." 
 
 As Archy spoke he handed his master the pair of 
 boots he had purchased from the Confederate. 
 
 " Where did you get those, Archy, and what did you 
 give for them?" asked Robert, as he held up the boots. 
 
490 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 '* I bought dem from dat young white man what *a 
 walkhig aroun' in his stoc kin' feet. Mighty sorry for 
 him, but he 's got de gold." 
 
 •' Why, where did you get the gold, Archy?" 
 
 " Why, Mauss Robut, do n't yeh 'member, de night 
 we left home, ole mauss gabe me a whole lot of money 
 in gold. I gabe one-half to Susie, poor chile, an* 
 kep' de res', thinkin' yeh might want it some day ; an* 
 now, tank de Lor', de day hab come." 
 
 " Why, Archy," said Robert, laughing, " you surely 
 do not thank the Lord for this opportunity of using 
 your money ?" 
 
 "No, Mauss Robut, yeh knows all 'bout dat. I'd 
 die to see yeh back wid de boys agin, but I'm glad, 
 as yeh 's pris'uer, I'm along to help yeh." 
 
 •'It would indeed ease the trials that I am satisfied 
 lie before us if I felt sure we could be together. I 
 think, however, that before twenty-four hours you and 
 I will be parted. I want to prepare you for this, Archy. 
 Heretofore they have sold or used for their own pur- 
 poses all the colored servants of Union officers they 
 have captured. We cannot hope your case will be an 
 exception." 
 
 "No, Mauss Robut," interrupted Archy, with a 
 tremulous voice ; "I do n't spect to be a 'ception, 
 but when yeh gets home tell Susey whar I is, an' kar 
 for de pickaninnies." 
 
 Robert laid his hand kindly on the faithful fellow's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Archy, I hope we may get home together. The 
 war will soon end, and I will find you out, and if I 
 cannot, you must hunt up Gome Union soldier and get 
 him to write to me at Brazoria. Do whatrever they may 
 
"DE RES' OF DE GOLD." «> 
 
 require of you, Arcby. It will only be for a short time.'* 
 
 " De good Lor' '11 watcb me, Maiiss Robut. But,'* 
 he added, as if ashamed of calling attention to his 
 own case, ' ' I does n't keer fur meself. I 'se thinkin* 
 about yeh, Mauss Robut, an' what yeh 's got to 
 suffer, an' I not near !" 
 
 " Well, Archy, now that I have boots I feel better. 
 Come, don't get down-hearted. If they do not part 
 us before to-morrow night I think we can give them 
 the slip." 
 
 The last was said in a whisper, but it caused a 
 wonderful change in Archy's face as he turned it full 
 on his master, and said in a low, earnest voice, " May 
 de good Lor* jes' give us half a chance." 
 
 Archy then fumbled around in his pocket, and at 
 length pulled out a red bandana, which he slipped un- 
 noticed into his master's hand. 
 
 " Why, Archy, what is this?" 
 
 **Dat ar 's de res' of de gold." 
 
 *' I know, Archy, but I cannot take this. You will 
 need it more than I." 
 
 " No, mauss, I 's got more 'n two hundred dollars 
 in greenbacks. I s'e been very savin'. Dey stole 
 yer money. Keep dat, please, Mauss Robut. I'll 
 feel better." 
 
 This was said in a tone that Robert could not refuse 
 and leave poor Archy anythilig but miserable, so he 
 hid the red handkerchief carefully away — first, how- 
 ever, w^ith Archy's consent, taking out two pieces, 
 which he found an opportunity to give to the brave 
 Ohio orderly. 
 
 That was a miserable night. The wind blew the 
 light sand in blinding clouds through the open sides 
 
49D WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 and glassless windows of the "guard-house." The 
 stock of fuel was exhausted early in the night, and 
 the men gathered about the dying embers, some nar- 
 rating with brutal oaths the'r adventures in love and 
 war, and others freely commenting on the result of the 
 war. The few Yankees crowded together, and their 
 part of the floor was respected by their desperate fel- 
 low-prisoners. Through the night the sleep of Rob- 
 ert was often distuibed by the reliefs and the shouts 
 of the guards as they announced the hours, ever clos- 
 ing with the chilling words, "All 's well." 
 
 Morning came, and with it a small ration of corn- 
 bread and bacon ; but the men were hungry, and some 
 ate the meat without cooking. Archy was toasting 
 some before the fire on a forked stick, when an officer 
 entered the guard-house and asked for Major Warren. 
 
 *' That is my name, sir ! " 
 
 "I come for your servant, sir. Where is he?" 
 
 *' You will find him cooking at the fire." 
 
 Archy overheard the conversation and rose with 
 the forked stick in his hand. He drew himself up 
 till he seemed a head and shoulder above every man 
 in the guard-house. His wide nostrils dilated, and 
 the left arm, held rigidly by his side, and the knotted 
 muscles and clenched hand gave him an air of fierce 
 determination that quite startled the officer. 
 
 " What is your name, boy ? " demanded the officer. 
 
 "I'm not a boy, sir. I 'ma man!" As Ai-chy 
 replied he strode to his master's side and turned his 
 burning black eyes on the rebel. 
 
 "I asked you your name ! No d d airs, boy, to 
 
 me. I ain't one of those men as kin be sassed by a 
 nigger!'* 
 
SERVANT AND MASTER PARTED. 493 
 
 ** My servant's name is Archy Warren," said Robert 
 as he laid his hand on the still rigid left arm. " He 
 has his freedom papers, and I demand that he be 
 treated as a prisoner, and not as a slave." 
 
 "Stuff! You Yanks confiscate our niggers — of 
 course we 're agoin' to feed yours an' dress 'em an* 
 send 'em back clean an' greasy ; that *s jes' like us. 
 Come with me, boy." As the rebel spoke he walked 
 toward the door and motioned Archy to follow. 
 
 " Go, Archy, my brave boy. Be prudent. God 
 bless you ! A short time, Archy, and all will be well.'* 
 Robert's voice grew husky as he clasped the faithful, 
 ever-ready hand. 
 
 "God bless yeh, Mauss Bob! May yeh git back 
 safe to de ole home ; an' if I neber comes back kar 
 fur Susey an' de piccaninnies." Archy raised his mas- 
 ter's hand to his lips and left on the bronzed fingers 
 two great tears, then he pulled on his cap and walked 
 out, with the rebel leading. Down to a little frame 
 building near the dej?ot they walked and entered. A 
 number of clerks, busy at rough, extemporized desks, 
 and a number of officers, smoking and chewing about 
 the room, turned to greet the officer and stare with a 
 pro-slavery admiration on the powerful negro who 
 accompanied him. 
 
 "By the great Confederacy, Chauncy, that's a 
 prize. There 's ten thousand dollars paper currency 
 in that fellow if there 's a cent." 
 
 The man that spoke wore on his upturned coat 
 collar the single star of a major, and on his puffy, 
 patch-haired face the evidences of large quantities o^ 
 bad whisky. 
 
 ** He '11 dOy major, though he 's a sassy cuss, ao 
 42 
 
494 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 will need takin* dowii afore we kin git any good out 
 of him. The cussed Yanks have spoiled him. Why, 
 what do you 'spose the black dog said to me when I 
 called him a boy this morning?" 
 
 " Why, perhaps he told you he was a girl," said the 
 major, while his companions joined him in a laugh at 
 what he deemed a very good joke. 
 
 " No," said Lieutenant Chauncy, getting red in the 
 face, as if the very memory of Archy's insolence 
 roused his indignation. " No ; he looked as savage as 
 an alligator, and told me he was a man." 
 
 Another burst of laughter greeted this announce- 
 ment, while Archy, cap in hand, looked at the speaker 
 unmoved. 
 
 " About fifty, laid on good and strong, would do 
 him right smart good," added Chauncy, "an' he '11 
 git it afore we git through with him." 
 
 "I understand that fellow Warren is to be tried. 
 Hope to Heaven they '11 hang him," said the major. 
 
 " Yes, they start him for Mobite to-night. Scott is 
 down there, and the d — d Yank has n't much to hope 
 from General Maury." 
 
 As the lieutenant closed he looked at Archy, and 
 seemed alarmed at the change in his appearance. 
 His arms hung powerless by his side. The defiant air 
 was gone. His head dropped on his breast, and his 
 lips were parted, showing his white tee^.h, v.hich 
 Beemed to increase the look of fear on his face. 
 
 " What 's wrong, boy ? " demanded Chauncy, shak- 
 ing him. 
 
 " Nothin', raausser, but don't hurt Mauss Robuc. 
 He neber did no wTong ! " 
 
 " The devil you say ! Now that's good. So disin- 
 
HANDCUFFED AND CHAINED. 495 
 
 terested ! You Ve seen the last of him, and I '11 give 
 you some advice boy. If you wish to keep the skin 
 of your back sound, just keep your mouth shut about 
 that hound "Warren." 
 
 *' I wouldn't let that fellow go down to Meridian 
 without keer, Chauncy," suggested the major; "he's 
 bin long enough with the Yanks to be devilish ; put on 
 the irons." 
 
 One of the clerks heard this, and volunteered the 
 information that there were handcuffs and a ball and 
 chain under his desk — *' the same," he said, " that 
 Mr. King's boy Bill had on when he was shot." 
 
 The handcuffs were taken out, and the clerk drew 
 forth the chain, with the ankle-ring at one end and 
 the ponderous ball at the other. 
 
 " Don 't pud dem on me, mausser. I '11 not run 
 off. I'll keep my word when I says so." As Archy 
 spoke he drew back with a shudder from the hand- 
 cuffs and chain. 
 
 "Here, none of your cussed gab. I'm agoin* to 
 guard agin your gittin' off. I jis' know how much 
 confidence to give to niggers like you ! " As Chauncy 
 spoke, he picked up the handcuffs and drew the ball 
 and chain after him. Approaching Archy, he de- 
 manded, " Hold out your hands, boy ! " 
 
 With his head still bowed on his breast, Archy 
 reached out his stalwart arms, and with a sudden 
 click the handcuffs sprung upon his wrists. 
 
 ** Thar 's only one ring, but I don 't think you '11 un- 
 dertake to run off with an eighty-pound ball on your leg." 
 
 As Chauncy spoke, he stooped and fastened the 
 ring to Archy' s ankle, and drew out the chain witi/ 
 the ponderous ball to its full length. 
 
496 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ** The train starts for Meridian in about twenty 
 minutes. Are you going to send the nigger down ? V 
 asked the major. 
 
 " Yes, I reckon on that now. Warren and the res* 
 of 'em are goin' down to-night. Kelton's sale comes 
 off to-morrow. I think we kin run this nigger in 
 without any trouble. Good-by, major, we mus' be off. 
 Follow me, boy." Chauncy motioned toward the door 
 as be passed out, and Archy stooped and gathered 
 up the chain. To ordinary men the ball would have 
 rendered locomotion impossible, but he picked it 
 up like a plaything, with his manacled hands, 
 and throwing it over his shoulder he strode out of the 
 room, his head still bowed on his breast, and the rat- 
 tling of the great chain keeping time to his steps. 
 
 There were horses on the car in which they placed 
 the black man, and every precaution taken was for 
 the safety of the horses. Archy envied them their 
 free limbs as he dropped the ball on the floor, and 
 coiled up his chain and sat down beside it. He had 
 been a slave without bonds heretofore, and a servant 
 without knowing a master, for every act had been the 
 impulse of his unselfish love. Now, for the first time 
 in his life, he felt himself a slave, and the very 
 thought seemed to crush his free spirit. The cars 
 rolled on, and gradually he forgot himself, forgot his 
 handcuffs and the ball and chain, forgot to surmise 
 his dreaded, uncertain fate, and his mind reveitted to 
 Robert. 
 
 He wondered if the boots would fit him. Would 
 they hang him in Mobile? How were his poor, blis- 
 tered, sand- rubbed feet ? He would escape if he got 
 a chance — that was just like Mauss Robert. Yes, and 
 
ARCHY'S MUSINGS AND TRIALS. 497 
 
 it was like himself, he would watch for the moment 
 when the irons were off hands and legs to make an 
 effort for freedom. What would Susey and the picka- 
 ninnies think if they knew of his position? As 
 Archy thought of this, he thanked God that the 
 power to look beyond our own surroundings, and to 
 pierce the future, was not given to man. Poor Susey, 
 she was his in his pure natural love, but another's in 
 everything else. He hated the very name of Town- 
 send, so cowardly, cruel, and mean. 
 
 Thus his mind wandered as the cars rolled on so 
 slowly over the broken, uncared-for road. Gradually 
 the light lessened and the dark night came, and the 
 cars kept going till they reached Meridian, where some 
 men came, and Archy heard the anxious directions 
 about the horses, and the animals were led carefully 
 out with words of fond encouragement and endearing 
 names as they descended the sloping gangway. 
 
 *'Come out here, nigger!" called a voice, and 
 Archy stooped and picked up the heavy ball, and» 
 with the chain rattling as he moved, he descended 
 the gangway and followed the long, cadaverous man 
 who assumed charge of him. The unpaved streets 
 were very sandy and heavy. The night was dark, and 
 pattering drops, with gloomy palpitations of the south 
 wind, threatened a rain. The long man, uncumbered 
 by hand-cuffs or chains, strode rapidly along, while 
 Archy, with the ring eating into his ancle at every 
 step, and his ironed wrists tortured as they held the 
 heavy ball on his shoulder, struggled on in the hope 
 of keeping up. Once he stumbled and the ball fell, 
 and with a savage oath the long man turned and 
 struck him as he was picking it up. Archy again re- 
 42* 
 
498 WAHREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 suraed his journey, the sweat standing in great beads 
 on his black forehead, and the excruciating pain in 
 wrists and ancle growing more intense. He had never 
 been struck before, and his spirit, so simple and affec- 
 tionate, rose against the insult. Had he been free 
 as to his limbs, it would have fared badly with the 
 long man then ; as it was he choked down the fierce 
 words that rose to his lips, and kept on. 
 
 They reached the pen, a sort of cattle inclosure 
 with a number of misarable huts about it, and Archy 
 was registered at the gate, then turned in, with another 
 imprecation from the long white man, who cursed him 
 for a *'lazy black dog." There were a number of 
 negroes inside, of every age and sex, all booked for 
 the morrow's sale. A few powerful-looking fellows 
 were chained, and one lay on the ground with a gag 
 in his mouth and his limbs bound, while beside him, 
 with her little ones nestling near her, his wife sat. 
 
 An old woman, torn from her son, swayed herself 
 back and forth near the red fire, and a mother in a 
 blind stupor, and with her wailing moans, held her 
 hands crossed on the breast from which a child had 
 been torn. It was a Sabbath night, and in a thousand 
 churches the southern people gathered to invoke 
 Grod's blessing on their cause ; and while the masters 
 prayed at the altar the slaves groaned in the pen, and 
 He who called his followers from among the poor and 
 lowly heard the groans. 
 
 Archy was hungry, and a score of willing hands 
 were ready to divide with him their scanty fare ; and 
 after he had eaten they gathered about to hear of 
 freedom — gi'adually coming nearer — and to draw com- 
 fort, in their distress, from the firm wt)rds of the 
 
ON THE AUCTION- BLOCK. 499 
 
 mancled black man. Arc fay's ancle and wrists were 
 sore, and the ball, which in the morning seemed to 
 his giant strength a toy, n >w hung to him like a very 
 ^ncubus. On a heap of corn husks in one of the 
 mbins he lay down, and with troubled dreams about 
 his master, and the wife and little ones in Texas, he 
 slept till morning. A coarse ration of corn-bread 
 was then served out, and a man came in who saw that 
 all the slaves washed themselves preparatory to the 
 sale. The irons were taken off, bringing to body and 
 spirit a feeling of such relief that Archy could have 
 kissed the hand that did it. The sale took place in 
 the pen, into which, by ten o'clock, had gathered old 
 planters to purchase, and young men to joke — old 
 planters that the previous night had invoked God to 
 aid them, and young men armed in the name of free- 
 dom and country. Why picture that scene of heart- 
 rending, the parting of mother and babes, wife and 
 husband, and life-long friends — poor in everything, 
 save that wealth of affection which a common suffering 
 gives ? Arehy's turn came ; and as the Confederate 
 States Government owned him, the receiver for that 
 district sold him for the Government, the money to be 
 appropriated to the southern cause. The black man, 
 barefooted, stood on the block, with his head cast 
 down, while the auctioneer pointed to what every 
 spectator could see, the wonderful physique of the man. 
 " Make him take off his shirt," said a man whom 
 Archy recognized as the long, cadaverous man of the 
 previous evening. The request of the long man was 
 the demand of the auctioneer. Archy fastened his 
 braces around his waist and took off his shirt ; then he 
 folded Ills arms, so indicative of strength, on his 
 
600 WAEREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 heavily-muscled chest, and with one foot advanced ov 
 the block, he stood a slave-god before his worshipers. 
 
 "Looks like an onery-dispositioned nigger,'* said 
 one man. " Strong as a lion and hannless as a lamb," 
 said the auctioneer, as he prepared for the bids. 
 The competition was sharp, and at length the long 
 man secured the purchase for nine thousand dollars, 
 a sum at which Archy was deemed '* dirt cheap," 
 comparing Confederate money with gold ; but even 
 at that time the most sanguine rebels considered the 
 possibility of Union success, and in such case the 
 certainty of freedom to aM men. 
 
 That night Archy was sent to a plantation between 
 York and Meridian, the long man warning him as they 
 started that ' ' it would n't do nohow to put on any 
 airs with him; he couldn't stan' a sassy nigger; he 
 wanted work, and he (Archy) mus' come right down 
 
 an' do it ; mus' get rid of d d Yankee notions an* 
 
 behave, an' then it 'd be well enough." 
 
 " Wid de help ob de Lor,' maussa, I '11 try to do 
 right," said Archy, as he passed out, feeling for the 
 first time in his life that he was a slave. 
 
CHAPTER XL, 
 
 A MIGHTY MAN OF TTAR. 
 
 The day following that on which Archy had been 
 sold at Meridian, his master passed through the same 
 place in charge of Lieutenant Garrett, en route to 
 Mobile. The lieutenant was a fiery, little fellow^ with 
 a scrubby, red moustache and hair of the same color. 
 He kept his belt buckled so tight about his waist that 
 it seemed to force all his digestive organs into his 
 protruding breast, and gave his face a full, flushed 
 appearance, as if he were determined to hold his 
 breath or burst. His reddish-gray, protruding eyes 
 would warrant this suspicion. He looked like a 
 human torpedo filled with the most dangerous ingre- 
 dients, needing but a spark to explode him or wrap 
 his glowing body in flames. He had a military strut 
 that was very effective, and though only five feet two, 
 and short in the legs, he walked with a stride that 
 threatened to split him at each fierce step. He carried 
 his left side, where hung his huge sword, a little in 
 advance of his right, like a sentinel advancing to 
 challenge. That portion of his arms not swallowed 
 up in a pair of cavernous, bell-mouthed gauntlets was 
 decorated with a labyrinth of gold lace, so intricate 
 in its glittering windings that a ground plan of the 
 affair would far eclipse the once famed Cretan arrange- 
 ment. The lieutenant wore a cap with two gold braids 
 
602 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 about the circumference, and another raoLze of lace 
 about the little, round button on top, like the dear 
 castle-puzzle of our childhood. Like the Queen's 
 Life-Guards, and other nobby soldiers, the cap was four 
 sizes too small, and was held on the side of the round, 
 red head by a strap so short as only to reach the under 
 lip, which the lieutenant kept protruded in a very 
 grim and martial manner in order to hold his cap on. 
 As he chewed tobacco and spat very freely, the strap 
 was continually getting into his mouth and interfering 
 with the proper ejectment of the amber saliva, so 
 that much of it fell short, and left its mark on the 
 doubled-breasted front of the coat, where the dazzling 
 buttons, marked "C. S. A.," strained about the 
 mighty chest. This description, though not applicable 
 to all, is accurate as to a conspicuous class of Southern 
 line officers. Garrett had heard about Warren, and 
 was determined that his prisoner should know he had 
 a determined fellow to care for him, so he paced 
 the car, despite the fact that his sword got mixed up 
 with the arms of the seats and passengers, and each 
 time he passed his prisoner he stared at him with a 
 look which seemed to say : " It won't pay, sir, to at- 
 tempt any d — d nonsense with Lieutenant Gtirrett. 
 Bot your life on that, sir?" 
 
 Xhe ride was very long, the train very slow, and the 
 only break in the monotony was when an officer with 
 a half dozen soldiers at his heels would pass through 
 the cars to examine the papers of the passengers. At 
 such times Garrett had to show his orders, vrhich he 
 al\7ays did in the presence of his prisoner, with his 
 breast stuck out, his head thrown back, and one foot 
 advanced, ULe a kni4^ht errant in a gas-fixture store, 
 
" A FELLOW FEELING," ETC. 603 
 
 wlnle his gauntleted left hand played nervously with 
 the brass butt of his monstrous sword. 
 
 Robert Warren at the first measured the man ex- 
 actly, but he was too much depressed to take advan- 
 tage of his knowledge, which fact the lieutenant in- 
 terpreted into fear, and this gave him a regard for his 
 prisoner, for it flattered his own vanity. 
 
 Below Meridian Robert motioned to the lieutenant, 
 and that individual advanced and struck an attitude, 
 without noticing the seat Robert had made for him. 
 
 *♦ Lieutenant, when do you expect to reach Mobile ?'* 
 
 '♦To-night, sir." 
 
 •• Is there a place in Mobile exclusively for Yankee 
 prisoners ?" 
 
 '* No, sir ; except the slave pen." 
 
 *♦ Oh, that will do very well. By the way, lieuten- 
 ant, you must be hungry. Do we stop at any place 
 where we can get something to eat and drink before 
 reaching Mobile ?" 
 
 The lieutenant softened a little. This Yankee was 
 a creature something like himself. He was subject 
 to hunger and thirst. Thirst ! The very thought of 
 the Yankee's thirsting unbent the fiery lieutenant, 
 and he gradually edged nearer, and finally slid into 
 the seat with his sword between his legs. 
 
 «* Yes, sir — yes, major. We stop at a station, sir, 
 after a while. Are you thirsty ? '* 
 
 ♦♦ Thirsty ! Very ; and more hungry." 
 
 *♦ We have something to eat on the cars, but nothing 
 except water to drink, sir." 
 
 " I am obliged, lieutenant, but I can wait till we 
 reach the place you alluded to, when I will be obliged, 
 if you permit me, to purchase some food." 
 
604 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 **'0<»irtainly, sir. But, sir, you must not get from 
 under my eyes." The lieutenant rose as he spoke 
 and looked do\vTi on his prisoner, though his promi- 
 nent eyes had lost much of their fierceness, and he 
 penuitted the strap of his cap to slip from under his 
 lip a^id hang under his pug nose. 
 
 It was after dark when the wheezy engine stopped, 
 and the crowd of hungry passengers rushed toward 
 oiiQ of the three frame houses near the station, where 
 a black man was hammering a gong with terrific 
 energy. 
 
 "Stand by mc, sir. Keep close alongside, sir." 
 As the lieutenant ejaculated this he laid his hand on 
 Robert's arm, as if its weight would deter him from 
 attempting to escape, and they moved along with the 
 crowd toward the house where the gong was sound- 
 ing. The lieutenant walked up to a man, whom he 
 appeared to know, and said : 
 
 " Gunning, I have a prisoner " Before the lieu- 
 tenant could finish the sentence, Gunning interrupted 
 him with an oath, adding : 
 
 "Bully for you, lieutenant. Let's see him." 
 
 " I want you to give him some supper," said the 
 lieutenant, pointing to the prisoner. 
 
 *' Now see heah, Mr. Garrett." Gunning assumed 
 a dignified attitude. " I 'm willin' to do all I can for 
 the Confederacy an' the soldiers, but cuss me if I 'ra 
 agoin' to let any Yank eat at my table." 
 
 " I will pay you, sir, for the food, and as to eating 
 at your table, I assure you I do not desire it. I want 
 something to eat," said Robert, in a very cool tone. 
 
 "The fact is, Gunning, how am I to eat? I must 
 have this prisoner under my eye all the time, you see, 
 
RED-FACED CHIYALRT. 605 
 
 and I do n't want to starve him just because he 's so 
 unfortunate as to be a Yank.'' 
 
 " Well, hurry up ; I '11 give him a place at the 
 carving table, and watch him myself." 
 
 Robert was hurriedly conducted to the table, where 
 a negro was carving, and directly back of him the 
 fiery Garrett sat down to a supper anything but con- 
 ducive to digestion, for the meat, the sweet potatoes, 
 and corn-bread were all cooked in that king of culinary 
 articles in a Southern kitchen — the frying-pan. 
 
 The negro who stood filling the plates with tough 
 steak at the carving-table was most attentive to the 
 prisoner, and took occasion to ask, in a whisper : 
 
 ' ' When ' s de res' a corain' ? " 
 
 *'Soon," said Robert, in a low voice; "but not 
 prisoners." 
 
 " Tank de Lor' !" and the negro rolled up his eyes 
 and worked more energetically among the steak and 
 sweet potatoes. 
 
 Oarrett had one Southern characteristic, viz : lib- 
 erality. He would not let the prisoner pay for what 
 he had eaten, and he succeeded in getting some cigars 
 and a bottle of bad whisky, which he intended ^he 
 prisoner should partake of, but which the prisoner 
 really could not do, though he often went through the 
 motions. 
 
 Before they reached Mobile, early next morning, 
 the lieutenant was redder than ever. His face fairly 
 burned under the influence of the fiery whisky. He 
 took occasion during the night to inform his prisoner 
 that his was a constitution of iron, that he never felt 
 fatigued ; could go for a week without sleep, and 
 drink all the time. This, he further informed the 
 43 
 
606 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 prisoner, was the result of blood, " I have lots of 
 good blood in me, sir. My grandfather you may 
 have heard of — Garrett ; same name 's mine, sir." 
 
 The prisoner felt certain he had heard of the dis- 
 tinguished grandfather, but could not remember the 
 connection. 
 
 " He was sure of his man, sir, at forty paces, and 
 it broke his heart when he got the palsy at seventy- 
 five." 
 
 *'A very remarkable man, lientenant," the pris- 
 oner thought it proper to say. 
 
 " Yes, sir, but I 'm his equal. I never went back 
 of my word, sir, in an affair of that kind." 
 
 In this strain the lieutenant kept on the greater 
 part of the night. By the following morning they 
 reached Mobile, the lieutenant's appearance throw- 
 ing very strong suspicions on his boasted powers of 
 endurance. 
 
 " I must take you at once, sir, to Major Dennis, the 
 provost marshal," said the lieutenant. 
 
 *' All right, lieutenant, I feel safe in your hands." 
 Major Dennis's office was near the Battle House, 
 Bome distance from the depot, and therefore the little 
 lieutenant and the big prisoner went — in a carriage. 
 The major was not in when they arrived, but soon put 
 In an appearance. The lieutenant in the yiieantime, 
 feeling that a great weight was lifted off hli shoulders, 
 collapsed like a little red balloon, and dropping his 
 head on his sunken bosom he snored audibly. 
 
 Major Dennis was a lawyer-like, gentlemanly fellow, 
 about forty years of age, with heavy, l>rown whiskers, 
 and a deliberate way of speaking, in striking contrast 
 to the lieutenant, who woke up when the major en 
 
UNPROFITABLE COLLOQUY. 607 
 
 tcred, and looked as wide awake as his red eyes and 
 purple face would let him. The work of transferring 
 the prisoner was short, when Major Dennis sent for a 
 guard. Then turning to the prisoner, he said : 
 
 " We have heard much of you, IMajor Warren, and 
 I am heartily glad you are here." 
 
 ' ' You are very kind, sir, but I deserve no credit 
 for the visit." 
 
 The provost marshal formed his lips as if about to 
 smile, but instead, a dry expression, that might pass 
 for anything, w^as produced. 
 
 "We will send you on to Montgomery to-morrow, 
 sir, and forward the charges with you." 
 
 * ' Might I ask what charges ? " 
 
 " I have no objections to saying you are accused, 
 and I think with reason, of having entered the \Jon- 
 federate lines at certain times disguised as a friend, 
 for the purpose of spying." 
 
 " Supposing what you say to be true, waa I cSiUght 
 in your uniform ? Was I captured trying tc pKy the 
 friend?" 
 
 " I believe not." 
 
 " I am sure I was not. I had given iS^^t to some 
 of your people below Vicksburg, and was returning 
 with them, when I was scooped up ahead of my com- 
 mand. However, this is no place, nor is this the time 
 to defend myself. I have no fears of a trial, if it be 
 fair." 
 
 " Fair it certainly will be. But, sir, we have 
 more feeling against men of your class, bom and 
 raised in the South, as I learn you were, than against 
 regular Y'ankees." 
 
 " On the same principle, I suppose, you have more 
 
608 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 love for northern men fighting on your side than you 
 have for those to the manner bom." 
 
 *' We do not discriminate. Patriots are patriots." 
 
 As the provost marshal closed speaking, a sergeant, 
 accompanied by three armed men, entered. The ser- 
 geant was called aside for his instructions. Then 
 Robert Warren shook hands with the lieutenant, 
 bowed to the provost marshal, and with the sergeant 
 by his side, and the three armed men behind, he 
 walked into the street, and followed by the taunts 
 and jeers of the crowd that gathered to see him, he 
 reached the prison. 
 
 It could not be worse than the place at Brandon. 
 It was certainly better than the close car, reeking with 
 the smell of smoke and whisky, and dinned by vulgar 
 jokes, and ribald songs, and oaths most blasphemous. 
 
 ** Have you any valuables about you?" asked the 
 turnkey, with a grim smile. 
 
 " Search and see for yourself," said Robert, placing 
 himself in an attitude to facilitate the investigation 
 if the turnkey desired. 
 
 *' You are too willin'. If you got down to this 
 jail with anything but your good name, you'd jest be 
 the luckiest Yank I've come across since I 've been 
 keepin' boardin' house." 
 
 The turnkey led the way as he spoke, and entering 
 a long corridor, the guards remained behind. Grated 
 doors, with the dim light just visible inside, were 
 ranged on eitlier hand, and the sound of their foot- 
 steps echoed cold and hollow. Here and there a face 
 peered through the gratings. 
 
 " Hello, comrade !' ' shouted a voice through one of 
 the doors. 
 
WARREN IN A DUNGEON. 609 
 
 "How is God's country?" 
 
 *'xill is well ia God's country," replied Robert, 
 feeling a thrill of joy as he heard what he felt was a 
 comrade's voice. 
 
 At the further end of the hall, the turnkey stopped, 
 and opened a door, 
 
 * ' This ain't a nice place, but it's all alone. I 'd rather 
 give you a better room, but the fact is I 've got to 
 obey orders. Major Dennis knows every corner here, 
 and he selected this for you." 
 
 " Oh, it will do well enough, I go to Montgomery 
 to-morrow, and as I am tired the darkness will be all 
 the better for sleep." 
 
 "Wall, maybe you '11 go to Montgomery to-morrow. 
 People may change their minds. Hold up awhile an* 
 I 'II send your breakfast. Them's the orders, though 
 it's right smart after breakfast now." 
 
 Robert walked into the cell, and the heavy door 
 grated behind him, and closed with a bang that echoed 
 with a painful effect along the corridor. An iron 
 bedstead with a mattress, a dirty pillow and a grey 
 blanket on it, a tin wash-basin and a coarse horn comb 
 chained like prisoners to staples in the wall, an 
 earthen pitcher and a tin cup constituted the furniture 
 of the cell. The small aperture through which the 
 light came was heavily barred, though too small of 
 itself to permit the exit of a man's body. The walls 
 were very damp and dark, the floor was of sheet iron, 
 and the ceiling out of reach even when standing mi 
 the bed. 
 
 "Not an inviting place, to be sure. It would be 
 difficult to get out of here, that's true ; but there is 
 no use in thinking of escape now. To-morrow I start 
 43* 
 
610 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 for Montgomery ; then will come my time.*' As Robert 
 thought this over he threw himself on the hard mat- 
 tress with a sigh of relief. He hatl scarcely done so 
 when he heard a knock at his door, and said ' ' Come 
 iu !" 
 
 "Not much ; heah, Yank, come to the door!** 
 
 Robert obeyed the voice. The grating opened on 
 a hinge, and through the aperture a hand was thrust 
 with a tin plate filled with steaming beans. Robert 
 seized it, and the hand came back with a piece of corn- 
 bread. "Hand out that ar pitcher for water." 
 
 Robert passed out the pitcher and it was handed 
 back filled with water. 
 
 " Thar, Yank, 'conomize on that till to-morrow morn- 
 ing." 
 
 The grating swung to with a metallic thug, and the 
 steps of the man went ringing down the coiTidor. 
 
 " That's not the turnkey that brought me here," 
 said Robert to himself as he sat on the bed, and with 
 the iron spoon tried to eat the insipid beans. He 
 gave the task up as hopeless. He did not feel himgry. 
 So he pulled off his boots and coat, loosened his 
 clothing, and stretched himself on the iron bedstead, 
 which he found about six inches too short, but he 
 slept. 
 
 When he awoke the glimpse of far-ofif blue sky 
 seemed to have faded into a leaden grey. The cell was 
 much darker, and he felt a chilly feeling creeping over 
 him like a return of the fever from which he had just 
 recovered. 
 
 He managed to eat some of the com -bread and 
 beans, then he stood up near the window and wiir'ihed 
 the grey dying out, and darkness com^P^ on. The 
 
MIDNIGHT MUSINGS. 611 
 
 cell was very black, and the utter stillness very- op- 
 pressive. "I certainly could not stand this long. I 
 wish it were morning.' ' Robert spoke aloud — the very 
 found was a comfort — and walked back to the bed. 
 He lay down, and for hours memory was busy w^th the 
 past. He began with memory and childhood ; youth 
 and manhood marched past in review ; familiar faces 
 and places lit up the panorama at times, while scenes 
 of sorrow and days of suffering added to the gloomy 
 setting of the picture. 
 
 ** What a blessing a watch and candle would be. I 
 wonder what time it is." He rose and peeped out 
 through the grated door into the black corridor ; he 
 heard a low, hollow cough away down on the opposite 
 side. " That chap ought to be in the hospital. Con- 
 sumption is a fearful thing, and in such a place.'* 
 He stood and heard the cough again and again, and 
 sad as was the sound it brought him comfort and com- 
 pany. It told him there was a fellow creature near 
 him suffering more than he was, and though the most 
 unselfish of men, the very thought was a comparative 
 pleasure. 
 
 "Who can the poor felloWbeP thought Robert. 
 ** A criminal, no doubt, who has been in here a long 
 time. Some wretch who, under circiunstances of life 
 and education that would have hung the judge who 
 sentenced him, had he been subjected to them, has 
 been sent here for the good of society. He is friend- 
 less and poor, I am certain ; had he wealth he would 
 never have reached here ; had he friends he would 
 not remain here. I wish I could aid him. Justice is 
 as blind as Love, and about as reasonable. Ah, me !'* 
 Again the painful cough was beard there was 
 
612 WARREN OF TEX\5. 
 
 something in the sound that told Robert it was that of 
 a young man. •' I wonder if he is black or white ? 
 But no matter, I wish I could aid him," Robert felt 
 the belt next to his body, where was secreted the gold 
 Archy had given him. "A barrier separates us, and 
 the suffering man will die, unknowing the vicinity of 
 a friend. He coughs with great pain. What if be 
 were a Yankee — a comrade kept here by the whim of 
 his jailors." The very thought increased Robert's 
 chill, and he walked back to the bed and tried to shut 
 out the sound — it was too horribly suggestive. 
 
 At times during the long night Robert slept, but 
 his sleep was broken and disturbed by wild dreams 
 and gloomy surroundings. 
 
 It was a relief when morning came, and with the 
 light the heavy, echoing tread of the turnkey. As he 
 approached, Robert whispered to himself: "Thank 
 God, this is the last night here." 
 
 Again there was the sound of unfastening the grate, 
 and the gray arm was inserted through the opening. 
 
 **Hand out them things!" 
 
 "What things?" 
 
 ♦♦Confound you, them tin things." 
 
 "All right ; do n*t get mad." 
 
 The "tin things" with the cold beans and hard 
 corn-bread were paF^c-d out. • 
 
 '* Oh, dainty, are you?' said the voice outside ; "all 
 right, you'll be glad to eat thii, bimeby." There was 
 a sound outside of stirring in a tin bucket ; then the 
 hand was passed ia with the plate and some hot beans, 
 and then came the corn-bread and the demand for the 
 pitcher and slop-pail. They were passed out, and the 
 pitcher handed back again filled with water. There was 
 
THE TURNKEY'S MOCKERY. 513 
 
 some person with the turnkey — " a servant, no doubt, to 
 help him carry the articles around," thought Robert. 
 The grating closed, and the turnkey came back, after 
 having walked oiF some distance, and said through the 
 door, "I '11 be back before night." 
 
 * ' When do you start me for Montgomery ? ' ' 
 
 * * For Montgomery ? ' * 
 
 **yes." 
 
 The turnkey walked away, and his low " Ha, ha. 
 ha ! '* struck on Robert's ears as no sound ever had 
 before. He was hungry, and he sat down and ate the 
 beans, so hard and insipid, and tried to gnaw the 
 softer part of the heavy corn-bread. 
 
 The turnkey walked back again, uttering a laugh, 
 the mockery and hollowness of which was increased 
 by the stillness which it broke and the echoes which 
 it started. 
 
 *♦ We '11 tell ye in plenty time ter pack yer trunk." 
 
 The stillness of night is always bearable because 
 expected ; the same stillness to an active nature in the 
 day is ever oppressive. Robert walked back to the 
 bed and sat down, with his face between his hands. 
 
 **It would be horrible," bethought, " to remain 
 here long. I wonder if that fellow Dennis lied. It 
 would be just lil^e the cold-blooded wretch!" He 
 chased the suspicion from his mind, and walked back 
 and forth in his cramped cell, blaming himself for 
 not having gotten off or attempted it when on his 
 way to Mobile. The hours slipped past like a monot- 
 onous age, and the red clouds, visible through the 
 little barred aperture in his cell, told him the sun was 
 setting in the outer world. He wanted to see the 
 sun, and drawing the iron bedstead near the window. 
 
614 TV^ARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 he stood upon it and looked out. A blank, cold wall, 
 without windows or doors, like a face without eyes, 
 stopped his vision a few yards distant. So he turned 
 his eyes up, resting his arm on the tunnel-like ap- 
 proach to the window, and watched the changes in 
 sky and clouds till the cold gray was lost in the dark- 
 ness ; and, though the world around him was hidden 
 by the walls and the night, the very darkness con« 
 cealed far off the glory of distant worlds, and the 
 star-light softened the shadows of the cell. 
 
 " Come down from thar, I say ! Thar 's no use in 
 them kinder tricks ! " 
 
 Ftobert got down, pushed back the bed, and, grop- 
 ing toward the door, he felt the arm protruding 
 through the grating, and the voice outside asking for 
 •*them tins." 
 
 *' Why did they not send me to Montgomery to- 
 day, as the provost marshal promised ? " asked Robert. 
 "It ain't for me ter say why. I gits orders an' I 
 obeys 'em. My 'pinion is you '11 breathe more Mobile 
 than Montgomery air in the next year, if yeh kin hold 
 out." 
 
 " What makes you think so?" 
 " Wall, we 've got another chap over here Yeh. 
 may hear him a-hacking at night. He ain't a man 
 yet, but he 's chuck full of devil. He was sent down 
 here from Tennessee or Georgia, whar he wuz cap- 
 tured, a kind o' spyin'. They wuz agoin' ter hang 
 him, but they reckoned it 'ed be more Christian ter 
 keep him here." 
 
 " That was very kind. What might the young man's 
 name be?'* 
 
 "He's registered as Edward Dawn; a yaller- 
 
A PARLEY. 615 
 
 headed whelp as ever lived, an' as proud an* sassy as 
 if be was agwine ter live a thousand years." 
 
 The turnkey, thanks to the darkness, could not see 
 the expression on Robert's face. 
 
 " It is a bad thing to be in jail : but I am thankful 
 that I have a man as kind as you to be my keeper.' t 
 
 " Wall, I do my duty, I reckon," said the turnkey, 
 in a softer tone, " an' it ain't my duty to talk to 
 you." 
 
 He was about to walk away, having passed in the 
 corn-bread and beans, but Robert called to him ; it 
 was such a joy to have some one to talk to. 
 
 ** I appreciate your position, my dear fellow. I am 
 sorry we are enemies. You know how horrible it is 
 to be alone. Trust me in one thing, and if I live to 
 leave this cell, or even before, my word for it you 
 will not regret it." 
 
 *' Wall, what do you want, a candle?" 
 
 " God knows a candle would be a great blessing, 
 but it is not that. Have you a brother? " 
 
 " Yes, two of 'em, an' bully boys they is ! " 
 
 *' Imagine one of your brothers a prisoner in the 
 hands of the Yankees, in a black cell, with his fate 
 uncertain, and his heart yearning for the voice of a 
 friend." 
 
 "Wall, what of it?" 
 
 " If I were the turnkey, and a southern man were 
 in a cell near your brother's, would you not want me 
 to let men who fought in the same cause meet, and 
 comfort each other, at least by their words ?" 
 
 " Wall, I might want you to do a great many things 
 that wan't jes' squar." 
 
 The turnkey walked off, and the soft footsteps of 
 
616 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 the person carrying the food followed after him. Tlie 
 door opened at the farther end of the corridor, then 
 closed with a startling bang. The key grated in the 
 lock, the echoes died out, and all was still in the living 
 grave. 
 
 Robert could not eat, and as he sat on his bed think- 
 ing about the brave "Little Ned," the old man's pet — 
 Tennessee's boy-brother — he heard the painful hack- 
 ing cough again, and he recognized something 
 familiar in the sound. He stood near the grating, 
 not daring to carry out the promptings of his heart 
 by calling Ned and announcing his owti presence. 
 He remained near the door he knew not how long, 
 it might have been hours. He felt himself dozing 
 and only his hold of the bars kept him from falling 
 to the ground. 
 
 He was about to let go his hold and feel bis way to 
 the bed, when his hand was seized on the bar, and he 
 heard a low ' * Hush ! " His first impulse was to spring 
 back. 
 
 " Who is there? " he asked in a whisper. 
 
 ** Me, mauss — Yalla Jack. I 's a frien'." 
 
 " How did you get in here? " 
 
 " I totes de beans fur Mr. Philips, de turnkey. I 
 heerd yeh to-day. I 's been a comin' in ebry night, a 
 fotchin' tings to dat ar' poor chile." 
 
 " Is it Ned Dawn ? " 
 
 "Yes, mauss. I crawls down de flume. I*s 
 smaller dan yeh tinks from my talk." 
 
 " A very diminutive mortal this must be," thought 
 Kobert, as the low, soft voice ceased. 
 
 " Yellow Jack, is it possible for me to get out of 
 here, with your help? " 
 
YELLOW JACK. 617 
 
 " 'Fraid not, mauss. Yer too big, but anything 1 
 kin do, led me know." 
 
 " Very well, go at once to Ned Dawn's cell and tell 
 him I am here — his old captain, Warren. He must 
 make no noise." 
 
 " All right, mauss." 
 
 Robert listened and in a few seconds there was a 
 sound like a pin-scratch in the direction from which 
 had come the coughing. 
 
 A low buz, a suppressed cough, and in a few min- 
 utes, under his own cell door, came the scratch and 
 the " hush," as before. 
 
 " Gosh, mauss, dat boy's right smart sorry ye 's 
 heah, but it '11 do 'im right smart good ter know it. 
 He loves ye a pile, I tell yeh." 
 
 "Yellow Jack?" 
 
 ** Yes, mauss." 
 
 " If I give you a piece of gold, ten dollars, could you 
 get me a Bible and some candles, and a pen and paper ?" 
 
 " I reckon so, mauss. But I kin get 'em widout 
 de money." 
 
 ' ' Have you money of your own ? " 
 
 ** No mauss, but Pete, de Dutchman, gibs me all I 
 want fur de Yankees." 
 
 " Could you get him to give you some meat and a 
 bottle of wine for that poor boy ? " 
 
 " Yes, mauss, I brings him meat ebery night. Don't 
 know as hov/ I could get a bottle trough de flume." 
 
 " Surely you are larger than a bottle ? " 
 
 The shadow of a laugh came from below the door. 
 
 " I '11 try to git him de wine." 
 
 *' Here, give this money to the Dutchman ; tell him 
 what I want." 
 
 U 
 
618 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert dropped the coin into the hat that was 
 held up for it outside. " Give my love to little Ned, 
 and come every night." 
 
 "I'll try mighty hard, mauss. To-morrow night 
 I'll be along, an' den I '^11 tell yeh what dey says 'bout 
 a hangin' ob yeh." 
 
 Robert could not hear the retreat, though he felt 
 that "Yellow Jack," the mysterious, had slipped 
 away. He stretched himself on the bed, happier for 
 the kind words of the negro, and building castles and 
 forming plans from the slight material furnished by 
 the slave. 
 
CHAPTEE XLI. 
 
 UrTLE NED. 
 
 The next night " Yellow Jack " was again on hand. 
 He brought two small candles and a book, but as he 
 brought no matches the candles w^ere practically use- 
 less. He had a small phial filled with brandy for 
 Ned, and a little parcel, which he informed Eobert 
 contained a pencil and some paper. 
 
 "Take the brandy over to Ned at once, with my 
 love. He must have some every day. Tell him to 
 take about a spoonful every three hom's when awake." 
 
 '* Yellow Jack " was gone for a few minutes, and re- 
 turned to say, " Ned wanted the captain to drink the 
 brandy." 
 
 ' * Tell that boy that I have given my orders about 
 the brandy, and they must be carried out.^' 
 
 In a short time the black boy came back, saying, 
 in his soft whisper : 
 
 " He says, mauss, he '11 'bey yer orders all de time, 
 an' dat he feels much better." 
 
 Promising to return on the following night, the 
 noiseless body moved away, and Robert stood listening 
 for the cough. Once he heard a heavy sigh, as if 
 from one in a troubled sleep. It came from the di- 
 rection of Little Ned, and Robert felt thankful that 
 he heard not the cough again. 
 
620 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 The candles, book, and paper were secreted early in 
 the morning in the mattress. When the turnkey de- 
 parted, after having served the corn-bread and beans, 
 Robert looked out and saw a little gray-headed yel- 
 low man waddling noiselessly along, a large pail in 
 one hand and a basket in the other. He was not 
 over four feet high, and his long body seemed to be 
 out of all proportion to his short, muscular limbs. 
 His head seemed, with its gi'ay, bushy hair, to bo 
 broader and deeper than his shoulders and breast, 
 and would have been sufficiently large for a man six 
 feet high. His arms were very long, so much so that 
 to keep the articles carried from dragging on the 
 ground, he had to keep his elbows bent and carry his 
 burden in advance. Kobert tried to catch a glimpse 
 of his face, but he passed through the door at the 
 end of the long passage in advance of the turnkey, 
 and Robert heard the bolts snap and rattle behind 
 the being in whom he was more immediately inter- 
 ested than any person in the w^orld. 
 
 It was a great pleasure, after fastening his hat over 
 the grating in the door, to lie down, with his back to 
 the light, and read the words of comfort with a feel- 
 ing of delight and satisfaction never before ex- 
 perienced. He forgot the prison and the war in the 
 record of the chosen people, who, through great 
 tribulation, came up from bondage, and, after much 
 trial, reached the Promised Land. He tried to draw 
 a comparison between the Hebrew leaders and soldiers 
 and those of his own land, and at times he caught hira- 
 Belf criticising the disposition Joshua made of his men. 
 But Joshua was successful, and Robert felt the result 
 was the only basis on which to found a judgment.^ 
 
YELLOW JACK DISAPPEARS. 621 
 
 The day passed quickly, and Robert lookea out for 
 the colored clouds that told him of evening, but the 
 sky was overcast, and a low, moaning sound came 
 through the grated aperture that admitted the light. 
 
 Another ration of bread and beans, and the turn- 
 key left. Robert tried to draw him into conversation, 
 but without success. He ate, but the food, as before, 
 was insipid, and the want of exercise and fresh air 
 destroyed- his appetite. He lay awake listening to 
 the wailing wind outside and watching the lurid flashes 
 of lightning that lit up the black sky. It was about 
 time for ♦« Yellow Jack" to come. Robert stood by 
 the door, his hand on the bars, expecting the touch, 
 and listening for the low whisper that would tell him 
 his friend had come. Now and then a cough from 
 Ned's cell was heard, which he would answer by 
 coughing himself; but the negro did not come. Dur- 
 ing the long hours Robert groped about his ceU, re- 
 turning every few minutes to the door, but there was 
 no touch of the hand, no longed-for whisper. 
 
 **It is raining hard outside ; no doubt Yellow Jack 
 finds it impossible to get down through the 'flume,' 
 as he calls it, or get up, for I am at a loss to know 
 how he comes in here. The next time I see him he 
 must bring me a file or a small saw ; I can get into the 
 hall then, and will try the dimensions of this ' flume.* 
 K they keep me here much longer I think the 'flume' 
 will be plenty large." 
 
 Thus soiiloquizingr standing near the door, and 
 moving about the cell, Robert watched till the cold, 
 leaden day came, with the wind still howling and the 
 rain beating on the bars, and entering the room in a 
 fine spray. The book was again a pleasure, and as on 
 44* 
 
622 Wi-ilRr-N OF TEXAS. 
 
 the island in .he Caddo Lake, he A^Tote a letter to a 
 loved one, which he felt at the time she would never 
 see. The turnkey was less communicative than before, 
 and when night came Ptobert's hungry ears were wait- 
 ing for the low " hush " and " Yellow Jack's" whisper, 
 but they came not ; and as on the previous night he 
 coughed in reply to the painful sounds from Little 
 Ned's cell. 
 
 The next morning Robert watched the turnkey 
 walking away, and his heart sank as he saw, instead 
 of "Yellow Jack," a gaunt, lantern-jawed white man 
 carrying the bucket and basket. As the door was 
 about to close Little Ned called out : 
 
 "I want to see you, sir." 
 
 The turnkey went back, saying as he did : 
 
 "Damn you, don't yell as if I wuz deaf; havn't I 
 told you about not hollerin' ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 *' "Wall, do n't do it no more, if yeh want ter keep 
 out uv the black cell." 
 
 Robert placed his ears to the bars, and he heard 
 Little Ned in a lower voice : 
 
 "I can't stand this, sir ; my breast is very sore, and 
 my cough is worse ; could n't yeh let a doctor come to 
 see me ?" 
 
 " I reckon so, but I ain't got nothin' ter do with it. 
 Yeh wuz sent heah ter die, I reckon. Do n't know 
 why in h — 1 else they gives such orders 'bout you an* 
 that Warren. I carries out the orders." 
 
 " Very well, sir ; I '11 try to stand it. I do n't blame 
 yeh ; I won't complain." 
 
 Little Ned coughed again, and the turnkey walked 
 out muttering something to himself, which Robert 
 could not hear. 
 
NED AND WARREN PART. 623 
 
 The desire to speak to Little Ned was stronger than 
 Robert's prudence. About the middle of the day, 
 hearing Ned cough again, he called out : 
 
 **Ned! Ned! my boy!" 
 
 *'I hear yeh, captain ; how are yeh?" 
 
 "I would be happier, Ned, if you had no cough." 
 
 "I '11 be well soon, cap. I got a bad cold a-comin* 
 here, an' this place has been a-killin' me." 
 
 "Where were you captured?" 
 
 " On a scout near Kome. I got separated from 
 grandad an' Uncle Jim." 
 
 " Why did they bring you here ?" 
 
 " Can't say, cap. ; they talked about hangin* of me." 
 
 The door at the end of the corridor suddenly opened, 
 and the turnkey with a nimiber of men entered hur- 
 riedly. 
 
 "What in h — 1 is all this noise for? I've tried to 
 treat you infernal Yanks well, an' heah fust chance 
 yer a breakin' the rules." 
 
 The turnkey stopped before Little Ned's cell, and 
 Robert saw the poor boy, so pale and emaciated, walked 
 into the middle of the hall. He turned, and a smile 
 lit up his thin face as he saw the * captain' peering 
 through the bars. 
 
 "ComCy I '11 put you soraewares else," said the 
 turnkey as he pushed Little Ned toward the door. 
 Poor Ned turned his face and called out, " God bless 
 you, cap," as the heavy door swung behind him, and 
 the turnkey and his posse marched off as if they 
 were guarding a dangerous giant. 
 
 Robert tried to read, but before him on the pages 
 the thin face of brave Little Ned was ever coming up, 
 and above the storm without and wailing winds ho 
 
624 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 heard the words. "This place has been a HUin' me." 
 The days went past so like each other that if it 
 were not for the pencil marks on the book diat stood 
 for days Robert would have lost all judgm',ii-.t of time. 
 The days became weeks and the weeks months, and 
 he still remained in the narrow compaiis of his cell. 
 Now and then the door opened uud under the eyes of 
 the turnkey a black man wont through the form 
 of cleaning out the damp cell. But the turnkey him- 
 self grew more grim, taciturn, and monosyllabic. 
 Robert felt his arms, so thin that the elbow joints 
 seemed like knotty excrescences, and the skin tighten 
 over his long, thin fingers like a yellow parchment. 
 His limbs seemed withering away, and his ragged, 
 dirty clothing felt baggy and uncomfortable. He 
 tried hard to keep clean, but his hair grew long and 
 matted, and his finger-nails looked hideous in their 
 talon-like shape. His reason seemed to be going, 
 and he would sit for hours counting the threads across 
 the worn knees of his blue pants, and coughing a 
 quick, hacking cough, that seemed to come with pain 
 from his breast. His book, pencil, and paper were 
 discovered and taken away. Day and night seemed 
 alike to him. Life and death were equally indifferent. 
 He grew childish about his food, and obeyed the 
 turnkey's every command with a child-like dread and 
 willingness to please. Djing before his captors 
 not as a soldier would ask to die, bleeding on the 
 battle-field, with his last glauce resting on the flag 
 floating above the cannon's smoke, but with strength 
 and reason going, a crazed skeleton. 
 
 O, Thou God of mercy and justice, who saw fit for 
 Freedom's sake, that we might better appreciate its 
 
A BRAVE MAN'S PROTEST. 525 
 
 worth, to let tens of thousands of fathers and brothers 
 and sons die in the cells and prison-pens of the 
 South — poor starved skeletons — keep down all feelings 
 of anger and revenge that rise burning in our hearts 
 as our tongues recite and our pens indite this cursed 
 record of a people fighting in Thy name and asking 
 for Thy aid ! But 0, keep fresh the memory of the 
 dead ! Remind us when in the world's business we 
 forget the twin sister of Religion, Liberty, of the ter- 
 rible sacrifice and suffering by which it was gained. 
 
 Sixty-four came, and Robert Warren, once a giant 
 in strength and a lion in courage, and a full man in 
 his warm heart and good common sense, lay in the 
 cell, his hollow cheeks flushed and his great bony 
 chest heaving with his short, quick breathings. Be- 
 side him a tall, red-headed man, in the uniform of a 
 major-general in the Confederate army, stood. His 
 voice trembled, and the moisture came to his grey 
 eyes as he looked on the skeleton prisoner. 
 
 "Major Dennis, this is the work of a low, cruel 
 coward," said General Wharcon, as he turned with a 
 look of indignation on his bronzed face to the provost 
 marshal. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir. I am not accustomed to being 
 talked to in that way." 
 
 "You are not? God curse you for a cold-blooded 
 villain." 
 
 Major Dennis cowered before the general's burning 
 gaze, 
 
 *' Why did you not shoot or hang this man, Warren, 
 at once. He was in our way, but he deserved a brave 
 man's treatment." 
 
 " We could not sustain the charges, and he w/ ^ 
 better in jail." 
 
628 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 ***Tis a lie, sir. He was not better in jail. We 
 have no right to starve, and break down, and send 
 crazed to the grave a man we have not the right to 
 hang." 
 
 ** General "Wharton, you must be responsible to me 
 for this insult." 
 
 "D — n your craven heart, any attempt to justify 
 your cowardly conduct, and I'll kill you on the spot." 
 
 General Wharton motioned towards the door, and 
 the provost marshal, a little paler but evidently as 
 collected as ever, walked out. Tearing a slip from a 
 blank book the general hurriedly penciled a note, 
 and sent it by a turnkey to General Maury. Then 
 he sat on the bed and took in his own strong hand 
 the thin, bloodless fingers of his enemy, but the man 
 whose daring he admired as a soldier above all others. 
 
 "I wish they'd send me on to Montgomery. 
 Where's the use waiting so long?" 
 
 As Hobert spoke the general pushed back from his 
 white forehead the matted, black hair. 
 
 "Pjor Bob Warren, I knew you as a boy and a 
 man. I once believed you bad, but from my soul I 
 now think your every motive the prompting of prin- 
 ciple." 
 
 " I wish they 'd take care of Little Ned. That turn- 
 key might have known it would break the old man*s 
 heart if Little Ned was to die." 
 
 " Who is this Little Ned?" asked the general of an 
 attendant standing near. 
 
 " He 's a boy as wuz captured in Georgia, or up 
 thar. He wuz in Warren's company." 
 
 " Never mind about that ; where is he now ?' ' 
 
 "He's in the hospital, sir. The doctor sent him 
 there a. month ago.'* 
 
RESCUED FROM THE DUNGEON". 627 
 
 ** He did? then why, in the name of mercy, did n't 
 he send this man there?" pointing to Major Warren. 
 
 ** "Wall, reckon as how the provost marshal did n't 
 want it." 
 
 As the attendant finished, Greneral Maury, an old, 
 soldierly-looking man, entered, an(J oa Wharton's ex- 
 plaining the situation in his stronj*', emphatic way, the 
 general denied any knowledge of Warren's condition. 
 
 " We deemed it best to keep him a prisoner, as he 
 was a dangerous man, but the details were left to the 
 provost marshal." 
 
 *• Yes, curse him for a cruel coward. Why, this 
 morning he told me as a piece of information, in his 
 cold-blooded way, that Major Warren, who comes 
 from my part of Texas, was dying in jail, and if I 
 wished to see him I 'd better go down at once. I 
 did, and here is a specimen of our cruelty. Why, 
 General Maury, can we ask Grod's aid, and sanction 
 this?" 
 
 General Maury was confused ; he hesitated, then 
 said: "I think not, General Wharton." 
 
 " Now begin at once to undo this work. Major 
 Warren must be cared for at once. If necessary, I 
 will foot the bills. He must not remain here an hour, 
 if I have to carry him off myself. There is one of 
 his men here named Ned ; put him with that man." 
 
 General Wharton's wishes were complied with at 
 once, and Eobert Warren was carried from the dark 
 cell to the roomy hospital, where he was bathed and 
 clad under General Wharton's supervision. A nurse 
 was engaged to attend to him, and the doctor in 
 charge, a skillful man, was promised a liberal reward 
 in the event of Warren's recovery. 
 
628 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 General Wharton remained about a v*ieik in Mobile 
 before rejoining liis command in Georg;*-*, but before 
 he left the doctor informed him thut Warren was 
 slowly improving, though still unconscious. For 
 weeks Robert Warren lay, the flickering light of rea-« 
 son growing daily stronger, and the thin limbs slowly 
 filling up. The doctor was as good as his promise, 
 and the first soldier in the Confederacy could not 
 Lave been better cared for. 
 
 It was the beginning of the sunny southern April, 
 when the perfume of the budding magnolias began to 
 load the air, and the birds to take up the songs chilled 
 by winter, when the doctor, sitting beside Robert's 
 bed, said : 
 
 * ' Major, I think you are strong enough now to 
 move a little." 
 
 ** Yes, doctor, strong enough to ride if I was back 
 with my own men," said Robert, holding up his white 
 hand. 
 
 There Is one of your men in the next room ; Ned 
 Da\vn. I fear he cannot live through the night. He 
 wants to see you." 
 
 "It seems like a dream since poor Little Ned left 
 the cell. How is his cough ? ' * 
 
 " His cough is killing him, major." 
 
 " I '11 go ! Let me see him at once." 
 
 Robert tried to rise, but his spirit was stronger than 
 his body. The doctor felt his pulse. 
 
 •• Major, I fear you are not strong enough. Lie still 
 on your cot, I will have it carried to where Dawn is." 
 
 The doctor soon carried out his intention ; four 
 stalwart fellows picked up the cot, and the major was 
 placed beside little Ned. He seemed wrapped in a 
 
"DON'T CALL ME BACK." 629 
 
 peaceful sleep, his face was pale and translucent, and 
 his thin hands clasped above his boyish, yellow head 
 
 " Poor boy ! " 
 
 "Is that the captain?" 
 
 "It is I, Little Ned." 
 
 "Give me your hand." 
 
 The beds were pushed closer together, and the cap- 
 tain clasped the pale, damp hand. 
 
 "How are you, cap?** 
 
 * * Better, Ned. Are you ? " 
 
 *'Yes, I feel better with you near. Grandad *• 
 aead " 
 
 "Who told you, Ned?" 
 
 " I saw him last night. His head was bleeding ; 
 but he smiled, and said, * Poor Little Ned, I won't be 
 happy unless yer along.' " 
 
 " No, Ned, he 's living. You *11 see him again." 
 
 " Yes, cap, up there where there *s no more fightin*," 
 One thin finger was raised. 
 
 Through the day they lay side by side, and when 
 evening came the setting sun filled the room with a 
 golden glory, while the south wind scattered the in- 
 cense of the spring flowers and brought the song of 
 the birds. 
 
 " This is the good land mother spoke of. Don't 
 call me back, captain, I must obey. Do n't call me 
 back." 
 
 The moon came up full and round, so that no 
 shadow of night came to the dying boy's cot. He 
 rambled in his mind at times, and spoke of war as a 
 thing gone past. 
 
 Day came, clear and fresh, and the rosy tinge of 
 the rising sun colored the sky. 
 
 46 
 
530 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Hold my hand, cap. There, keep me steady. 
 Grandad is reaching for the other hand. Now let 
 me go." 
 
 A long breath, a fluttering of the thin lips, the 
 bugle call came from the army beyond the river, and 
 at the mystic angel's summons Little Ned joined the 
 ranks of his comrades gone before. 
 
CHAPTEE XLII. 
 
 OLD FRIENDS. 
 
 One morning in the early June, the doctor entered 
 the hospital with a joyous face ; his face was even 
 kind. Grocl bless the doctors of both armies ! in 
 brain and feeling as a class they were the noblest of 
 the enemy, the most unselfish of the patriots. 
 
 " Major, you are strong enough to travel now." 
 
 " Yes, doctor, I feel all right. I have been a long 
 time on my way to Montgomery." 
 
 " This afternoon you start, still on your parole of 
 honor, to report to the commanding officer there." 
 
 " I am very sorry at the thought of leaving you, 
 dear doctor. I wish to say, however, that there is 
 not a man in either army, whom I would be more re- 
 joiced to see ' when this cruel war is over.' " 
 
 ' ' I can say the same, major. Grod grant that the end 
 may soon come, and let the result be as it may, so 
 gi'eat is the issue, in its results on mankind, that I 
 wall cheerfully accept." 
 
 The doctor sat down beside the major, and laid his 
 hand on his knee. 
 
 " Do you remember the day General Wharton went 
 to see you in jail?" 
 
 *' No, doctor. I think of that place as a terrible 
 nightmare. The memories are confused and the re- 
 alities blended so with the equally horrible dreams. 
 
632 WARKEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 that I cannot separate them. From you I have 
 learned of Wharton's kindness. He is as honest m 
 his convictions as he is brave in his heart. May God 
 spare him to see the error of his ways." 
 
 " I had a letter from him a few days since. He is 
 going back to Texas, to take a command under Gen- 
 eral Magruder, who is in charge of that depart- 
 ment. He is particularly anxious for your recovery. 
 By the way, you were wounded— that fearful hole in 
 your breast — at Stone Eiver, as your people call the 
 battle. I was there. We call the fight Murfrees- 
 boro." 
 
 "Yes, doctor, I came near being mustered out 
 there, and, what was to me equally hard, I lost my 
 horse Don— one of the finest animals in the land 
 to-day." 
 
 " Wharton got that horse subsequently. He 
 writes me that the animal is now at Lefranc's, near 
 Montgomery, and that gentleman is to give him to 
 you on your personal application for him, which of 
 course can only be at the close of the war." 
 
 " I won 't swear to that, doctor, though the chances 
 are against me. What is the news, though ? 1 have 
 not heard for a long time ? " 
 
 " Sherman is pushing through Georgia, and Joe 
 Johnston, with an army inferior in numbers, is bravely 
 contesting every stream and hill where he can make 
 a stand. Grant has been terribly worsted at Cold 
 Harbor, and has pontooned the James, and laid siege 
 to the key of Eichmond, Petersburg. Our people are 
 raiding around Washington, and the balance is about 
 the same. Lincoln and 3IcClellan are opposite can- 
 didates for the Presidency — and England, it is thought, 
 
OFF FOR MONTGOMERY. 533 
 
 will intervene in behalf of the South. She must 
 have cotton, and here is her only supply." 
 
 " I do not care much about England's attitude ; the 
 day will come when the South will detest her selfish 
 course as the North does. She is the Israelite of na- 
 tions, and would g^lory if she could make money from 
 the garments of the Liberty she is helping to crush. 
 The other part of the situation is against you. Sher- 
 man means Atlanta, and Grrant will have Richmond 
 before twelve months pass. I cannot doubt the re- 
 sult, doctor, without doubting the existence of a Grod, 
 and that I cannot do — would not want to do and live." 
 
 " We are both honest in our convictions, major. 
 Let the subject drop. I have carefully complied with 
 your request about Little Ned's grave. We got the 
 money those scoundrels stole from you in jail. It 
 only took one-half to make the grave and inclose it 
 properly ; here is the rest — forty dollars in gold. I 
 wish it was the medium of circulation now," said the 
 doctor, as he pressed the money into Major Warren's 
 hand and rose to depart. 
 
 Robert felt deeply the kindness of this good man, 
 and, in his plans for the future, when peace came, 
 Doctor Williamson, of Mobile, occupied a conspicuous 
 place. 
 
 That afternoon, at his own request, his parole was 
 Surrendered, and, in company with an officer, he 
 started for Montgomery. They took the steamer for 
 Blakely, passing the obstructions in the harbor, and 
 sailing past Buchanan's formidable iron-clads, des- 
 tined yet to surrender to ships less invulnerable, 
 guided by a cooler head. At Blakely they took the 
 cars north for Montgomery. About midnight the 
 45* 
 
534 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 train stopped at Pollard, and next day Major "Warren 
 dined at Montgomery in company with Captain Lor- 
 ing, the officer who accompanied him. 
 
 •'I wish you would take a parole. Major Warren, 
 it would save me an unpleasant duty and be better 
 for yourself," said the captain, as they sat smoking 
 after dinner. 
 
 " I fully appreciate your kindness, captain ; but it 
 would not be just to you nor myself. I am deter- 
 mined to get away as soon as I can. The facts of my 
 capture are unknown in the Union army, and I dread 
 being under a cloud till I get back to explain." 
 
 *' Well, I don't blame you. I presume I would do 
 the same thing myself. Promise me, at least, that 
 you will remain here quietly till I return in about an 
 hour," said the captain, rising. 
 
 *' Indeed, I would be an ingrate to deceive one so 
 kind," replied the major, reaching out his hand. The 
 captain clasped it, looked into the major's eyes, and 
 thus they stood, breast to breast, as brothers of some 
 mystic tie. In a w^hisper they exchange a few words, 
 meaningless in themselves, but suggestive of a bro- 
 therhood extended as civilization, and whose records 
 date back to the days of tradition. 
 
 The captain passed out, and the major resumed his 
 segar and awaited his return. Two hours elapsed be- 
 fore Captain Loring returned. He was accompanied 
 by a tall, dignified, elderly gentleman in uniform, 
 whom he introduced as Colonel Lefranc. Robert im- 
 mediately thought of Don, remembering what the 
 doctor had told him. 
 
 *' I have heard of you, major, from my friend Gen- 
 eral Wharton," said the colonel, " and the last thing 
 
A "CARPET KNIGHT. 685 
 
 he said to me was that he wished you were back again 
 with your own people." 
 
 "I am certainly obliged for all his kindness. I 
 owe my life to him ; and I hope we may both be 
 spared to see the end, that I can the better show my 
 appreciation of his services." 
 
 "I regret that you will not take a parole, major. 
 I should be pleased, in that event, to have you spend 
 a few days with me. I am confident we could soon 
 have you exchanged." 
 
 "I am more thankful, colonel, than I can express ; 
 but I fear the want of exercise for mind and body* 
 which a parole would produce, might injure me.'* 
 Then laughing, he rose and walked to a mirror that 
 hung over the mantel-piece, and, as he surveyed his 
 pale face and reduced form, he continued, '' I don't 
 look as if I could injure you much, even if I were 
 North. Ah, me ! that sickness has made me a carpet 
 knight." 
 
 The colonel laughed, and in his courteous way 
 said : 
 
 "Heaven save the Confederacy from an army of 
 such carpet-knights." Then lowering his voice, in a 
 sadder key he said : "Major, I deplore the necessity 
 of sending you to prison to-night. It is your own 
 fault. We will make the jail as pleasant as possible 
 for you, however." 
 
 "Thank you, colonel. Let it be like temperance 
 punch." 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 " Why, the weaker the better." 
 
 The captain gave Kobert a quick, suggestive look, 
 and all kindly laughing at what Kobert called his 
 
536 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 *' sickly joke," they descended from the room and 
 walked around to the jail. 
 
 The room into which Kobert was ushered, with its 
 carpet and furniture, looked like anything but a eel!. 
 He subsequently learned it was a part of the jailor's 
 quarters. Colonel Lefranc gave directions to have 
 the major's every want attended to. As they passed 
 out the captain said, in a low voice: "You will see 
 me again, at eleven to-night." Robert heard, and his 
 heart gave a bound of joy. There was a something 
 in the captain's manner that spoke of an approaching 
 deliverance. 
 
 Ajixiously Robert paced the room, and tried to read 
 the books so thoughtfully provided, but he seemed 
 more a prisoner now than when, in Mobile, he stood 
 on the iron bed and tried to catch beyond the blank 
 wall a glimpse of the setting sun. Then he would 
 have run any risk for freedom ; now bonds of kindness 
 and a load of gratitude were on him harder to break 
 and remove than the restraints of the cold-blooded 
 Dennis. Eleven o'clock came, as he heard by the 
 clock in the adjacent steeple, and no captain. Slowly 
 twelve came, and with the last clang of the bell he 
 heard an emphatic rap at his door. In answer to his 
 *' Come in !" the door opened and a bearded man, with 
 a slouched hat and heavy riding boots, stepped to his 
 side, and in a low, grufif voice said : 
 
 ' ' Now is your time ! Follow me ! " 
 
 Quick as a flash Robert put on his hat and threw 
 over his shoulders the gray cape the doctor had so 
 kindly insisted on his taking. 
 
 " I am ready ! " 
 
 "This way!" 
 
« BROTHERS, NOT FRIENDS." 537 
 
 He followed the guide down stairs, out into tbe 
 star-lit, quiet street. 
 
 "Walk by m^' side." As his guide spoke the 
 rapidity and length of his strides increased, and his 
 spurred heels came down with a fierce emphasis at 
 each strong step. Out through the town they quickly 
 passed and reached the Alabama Rivera little above. 
 Standing by the water's edge, the guide whistled, and 
 suddenly a light sprang up amid the dark green 
 foliage of the opposite bank. Soon a boat put out, 
 rowed by a man dressed like the guide, and equally 
 taciturn. The boat had hardly touched the shore 
 before Robert, at a motion from the guide's hand, 
 leaped in, and the guide himself, with a powerful 
 push, accompanied by a leap that sent him into the 
 bow of the boat, shoved it far out in the stream. 
 
 A few seconds and they were across, where a negro 
 held a flaming torch, showing in the background two 
 horses. 
 
 " Major Warren,'* said the guide, " you will find 
 your horse Don in the woods. You are now free. In 
 the saddle-bags you will find money and instructions ; 
 follow them out carefully.'* 
 
 "How can I thank you? G-od bless you, more 
 than friend ! " said Robert, with unsuppressed emo- 
 tion, as he extended his hand. The guide took it, 
 and as he covered the grip with his left hand he said : 
 
 • ' We are brothers, not friends. May God lead you 
 to the light.** 
 
 Robert shook hands with the man who brought over 
 the boat, receiving the same mystic sign as he snid : 
 
 "K in your army an opportunity presents itself to 
 aid a brother from our side, do by him as we this 
 
5S8 WAEREX OF TEXAS. 
 
 night have done by you." The soldiers turned, en- 
 tered the boat, and with a few rapid strokes were lost 
 in the darkness that hung over the river. 
 
 " Where do you come from, boy ?" asked Pwobert, 
 turning to the negro, who had extinguished th« torch. 
 
 " I's one ob Mauss Lefranc's boys." 
 
 " Do you know who those gentlemen are wto have 
 just crossed the river?" 
 
 " Yes, mauss, de one wat come 'long wid yoU* j Cap*n 
 Loring; de odder's young Mauss Wash. Lefr^ic.'* 
 
 " Show me Don, my horse." The black boy led 
 him back from the river, where, 'mid a clump of trees, 
 the horses were fastened. A low neigh of ret .)gnition 
 from Don, and Robert stood beside him with his arms 
 about the noble animal's neck. 
 
 "Don, old boy, this seems like a dream. You old 
 scamp, what made you run the wrong way af er I fell, 
 eh?" 
 
 Robert stroked the arched neck and pttted the 
 sleek sides as he spoke, ^hile Don rubbed his nose 
 against him, and with affectionate little neighs, in 
 tended for a satisfactory explanation, he enjoyed the 
 meeting more than he could express. 
 
 The black boy arranged the bridle, and Robert 
 vaulted into the saddle. He was a mar again, free, 
 with a good horse beneath him. The stars shone 
 more brightly, and the cool night wind came grate- 
 fully to him, and the certain past bectvne a dream 
 and the uncertain future hope made a reality. 
 
 "Boy, 3'ou are to guide me." 
 
 '* Yes, mauss, I goes 'long wid yeh t 11 day 
 
 * ' Are you ready ?" 
 
 " Yes, mauss," said the black boy, mounting and 
 
IN GOOD CARE. 539 
 
 starting at a brisk trot up the river. Kobert longed 
 to let his horse out, and enjoy once more the exhila- 
 rating feeling of a gallop on his favorite horse. And 
 Don seemed equally anxious to show his limbs had 
 not lost their ancient fleetness, but he was equally 
 anxious to show hi« obedience, and sensibly remained 
 behind the heavy, plodding animal which the black 
 guide rode. 
 
 Shortly after daylight the black man stopped be- 
 fore a house, and requesting the major to remain out- 
 side, he took from his pocket, where it was carefully 
 wrapped, a letter, and entered. In a few minutes a 
 man in slippers and a wrapper appeared, and stand- 
 ing on the gallery called out : 
 
 "Dismount, major; your horse will be cared for. 
 Welcome— you are just in time for breakfast." This was 
 said as the major approached the gallery, and in the 
 hand greeting that he received he felt the sign that 
 convinced him he v/as still under the care of brothers. 
 The hospitality was as thoughtful and generous as 
 the refined planter's ever is. After a good bath and 
 a hearty breakfast, for which the major had a good 
 appetite, the planter told him he must rest till night, 
 when he would send a guide with him to Kingston ;' 
 in the meantime he would send back Colonel Lefranc's 
 boy. 
 
 When Kobert went to his room, he felt the stiff- 
 ness resulting from his ride, and was glad to stretch 
 himself on the white, clean bed. He was about sink- 
 ing into a doze, when he bethought him of the in- 
 structions which Captain Loring told him were in 
 his saddle-bags. He anxiously opened the package 
 addressed to himself. The first thing he saw was% 
 
640 WAEREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 roll of Confederate money, and then a letter. He 
 read the letter, which briefly stated the cause that 
 led to the captain^s friendship, and the hope for his 
 successful escape. It said that he could count on 
 friends, and need have no fears till after leaving 
 Kingston, Perry County ; then he must use his own 
 judgment. A small map of the Southern States was 
 found in the package, with a route marked down lead- 
 ing to Baton Rouge, and which Robert determined to 
 take, passing next by York and South of Meridian. 
 
 He had a most refreshing sleep that day, not wak- 
 ing tin Mr. Norton knocked in person at his door, 
 and came to summon him to supper. 
 
 About eight o'clock his horse was brought out, and 
 Mr. Norton, giving careful instructions to one of his 
 own men, who was to act as guide, bade the major 
 God-speed. 
 
 During his stay with Mr. Norton, that gentleman 
 never once mentioned the war, nor alluded to the 
 fact that the major was a Yankee, escaping to the 
 Union lines to take up arms against him and his 
 friends. 
 
 It was eight o'clock next morning before the black 
 boy reined in his horse before a large house, near the 
 Methodist church in the rambling village of Marion. 
 
 *'Mauss Clark, de brudder, libs heah." 
 ' "Whose brudder, boy?" 
 
 *'My brudder, an your brudder, an* de Lor's." 
 
 "Oh, he is a clergyman ! — all right." 
 
 The black boy entered the house, and Robert dis- 
 mounted to rest and await him. 
 
 An old, venerable-looking man soon made his ap- 
 pearance, and, after wannly greeting the major, whom 
 
RESTED. 541 
 
 he addiessed by name, he sent the black boy with the 
 horses to an adjacent livery stable. 
 
 ** Come in, brother, you need food and rest ; thank 
 God, it is in my power to give you both." 
 
 It was a cleai , quiet house, with books scattered 
 about, and evid<3nces in furniture and pictures of re- 
 fined taste and a woman's hand. 
 
 Breakfast was soon prepared, and, although Mr. 
 Clark had eaten before, he sat down with his guest, 
 and offered up a blessing, sweet in its -charity and 
 kindness, for the food the major was about to enjoy. 
 
 The room in which the major slept was cool and 
 airy, and during the day, in a half-conscious way, he 
 heard a low, sweet voice, and listened as in dreams to 
 the soft, quick steps of a woman's feet. He felt better, 
 rested better for it. 
 
 He rose about the middle of the afternoon, and 
 found Mr. Clark awaiting him. 
 
 "You have a long ride, with much fatigue and 
 danger, before you. Let me hope, brother, that you 
 have rested well. Robert assured him that he had. 
 
 " Beyond this, I fear there is no one you can trust ; 
 but I would advise you to go out by York. You 
 could, perhaps, reach your people sooner by going 
 north, but the road to you would be dangerous, and 
 the probabilities of a return to captivity strong.'* 
 
 * ' I am very thankful, sir, and will take your ad- 
 vice," 
 
 " You must start before dark, so as to reach the 
 Cahawba road. By twelve o'clock to-night you can 
 reach Corsin's Tavern. Your own discretion must be 
 exercised as to your remaining there." 
 
 Mr. Clark then led Robert into the room v*^here he 
 46 
 
642 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 had breakfasted, and where the table was set for two. 
 Again the good man prayed, and asked God for a 
 speedy peace in a way that to llim would seem just 
 and right for his people and the holy cause of reli- 
 gion. 
 
 The adventures of the past few days seemed like a 
 dream to Robert, and he only realized again the cause 
 when, before mounting, he held the good man's hand 
 with the grip of swoni fidelity. 
 
 He was now alone, and though the future seemed 
 uncertain, and must be shaped by circumstances, he 
 felt more like a man. He reached the place, which 
 he recognized from Mr. Clark's description as Cor- 
 sin's Tavem, about eleven o'clock that night. In- 
 forming the landlord that he wished to remain for the 
 night, and that his hotel was recommended by Mr. 
 Clark, of Marion, he found the sallow-looking host 
 quite willing to care for him and his horse. The 
 accommodation was not good, but the guest was not 
 particular, and willingly paid the twenty dollars 
 charged him in the morning. In answer to Robert's 
 inquiry, after he had mounted in the morning, Mr. 
 Corsin advised him to keep north of York, and as- 
 sured him that by a ride of forty-five miles he could 
 reach his brother's place. This brother, he said, was 
 a planter, but since the war *' he was in the habit of 
 keerin' for travelin' folk." 
 
 Getting the directions carefully, Robert bade the 
 bilious landlord farewell and turned his horse's head 
 west. 
 
 He traveled through a country rich in all its natural 
 advantages, but poor in its people and their industries. 
 The section had not been injured by the war, but in 
 
" ARCHY, MY BOY ! " 643 
 
 its dilapidated bnildings and broken fences and half- 
 tilled fields it looked as if suffering some fearful 
 scourge. 
 
 Once or twice Robert lost his way, but he suc- 
 ceeded in finding Corsin's plantation shortly after 
 dark. G-iving the black man who took his horse par- 
 ticular instructions as to his care, Rober.t entered the 
 house. The proprietor was in Meridian, but his wife, 
 a slovenly, aguish-looking woman, with very bad teeth 
 and a protruding chin, aided by a one-armed ex- 
 soldier, had charge of the place. Kobert was roomed 
 in an out-building, and as there was nothing to enter- 
 tain him he retired early. 
 
 He was sleeping soundly about midnight, when he 
 became conscious of the presence of some person in 
 his room, and his eyes were affected by a faint light. 
 He turned his head, and there, standing beside him, 
 with a look of wonder and joy on his face was Archy ! 
 Quick as a flash the light went out. 
 
 " Archy, my boy ! " 
 
 " Oh, bless de Lor', Mauss Bob ! " Archy threw 
 his arm over his master, and sobbed with very joy. 
 
 ** Oh, de Lor' is good — better 'n I, a poor sinner, 
 kin 'spect." 
 
 " How have you been, Archy ? Is this man Corsin 
 the fellow that bought you?" 
 
 *'Yes, Mauss — God forgive him! He's beat me 
 offen, an' I wanted to die, but a thinkin' on you and 
 d'» pickanninies " 
 
 " Well, Archy, I have had a rough time. I am 
 now escaping. What time is it ? " 
 
 " It 's de middle ob de night." 
 
 •' Did you see Don? " 
 
644 WARRKN OF TEXAS. 
 
 '* Praise de Lor', yes. Where did he come from? " 
 
 "I will tell you all, after awhile. Don is fresh 
 enough to travel." 
 
 *' Yes, mauss, reckon he 'dkeep it up fur a week." 
 
 " Are there any other horses in the stable T' 
 
 " Yes, mauss, two." 
 
 " Saddle the best of them, and Don, at once, I will 
 iress ; are there any arms about the house?" 
 
 "Do n't know, Mauss." 
 
 *' Well, get the black people to see, I will pay them. 
 Be quick and quiet." As Robert spoke he rose and 
 hurriedly dressed, and Archy passed out. 
 
 The work of saddling was short, and as Robert and 
 Archy stood beside their horses an old negro man, 
 barefooted, stole softly from the house. 
 
 "Heah, four pistols an' all de fixens, an' a rifle." 
 
 "Thank you uncle, some day I will bring you 
 liberty, to pay for this." 
 
 To which the uncle replied, "Lor* heah de prayer." 
 
 The pistols w^ere loaded, and strapping them on 
 Robert and Archy mounted, the latter carrying the 
 rifle. A quiet ride for a few hundred yards, then, as 
 in days gone past, master and man were on the war- 
 path and free. 
 
CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 THE LAST BUT ONE. 
 
 It would be a repetition of much that has been said 
 to narrat^ in detail the incidents and adventures of 
 "Warren's escape westward from York with his servant. 
 In itself the story would be a marvel of coolness, 
 daring, and escape ; but as a link in the chain of an 
 eventful career, it would be but the additional con- 
 firmation of the character Robert Warren has already 
 established in these pages, and in the liberty of his 
 country. Long rides by night, with negro guides ; 
 days spent in the woods, with man or master on 
 guard ; fears of pursuit, and hopes of the vicinity of 
 friends ; detours to the North or South, and retrograde 
 movements when there was danger in the advance ; 
 days of hunger and nights of rain, unsheltered, all 
 went to make up the outlines of that escape to Baton 
 Rouge. 
 
 It was the middle of the summer of '64, when 
 ragged and half famished, Robert, on the still spirited 
 but emaciated Don, and Archy, on a mule he had 
 borrowed, one early day-light, entered the town of 
 Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Major Warren's fame had 
 preceded him, and after the officer in command at 
 Baton Rouge became satisfied as to his identity, he 
 received that cordial welcome which only a soldier 
 can give, particularly If he came from Massachuset^: 
 46* 
 
546 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Robert learned at Baton Rouge that he was reported 
 killed, and Colonel Fellows showed a number of news- 
 paper eulogies, all speaking in the highest terms of 
 the Union scout, and deploring his untimely death. 
 
 Only those who have been captives away from 
 the protection of their own flag can appreciate the 
 feelings of one returning, after what seemed an age, to 
 his own land, made so by the banner under which he 
 fought and not by the geographical position of the 
 place where it floated. ^ 
 
 General Banks v^'as acquainted at once wit'*! the 
 escape of "Warren and ordered him to report at his 
 headquarters, in New Orleans. Before doi/ij^, so, he 
 sent on to Yicksburg" for his effects, the principal 
 things amongst them being the remnants cf the old 
 flag torn down from the flagstaff at Bfa7(»ria in the 
 March of '61. He wrote to Mary, stiil if^nrking in the 
 hospitals at Nashville, and to Richan*.«on, now fight- 
 ing with Sherman before the dePeriKPF of Atlanta. 
 
 Robert learned with regret, at l^aton Rouge, of the 
 death of old Dam:, and he /o'-i>embered, in connec- 
 tion with the date, the death- "A'ords of little Ned. We 
 are all superstitious, no ir.dtter what creed or belief 
 we hold and to 2 comcidonce made an impression 
 on the mind of Warren which only death can efface. 
 Perhaps death will confirm the event by showing the 
 relations existing between the peoples of the seen 
 and unseen worlds. 
 
 Ten days at Baton Rouge and Robert Warren, who 
 had entered the place weakened by travel and the 
 want of rest, was ready with his servant to obey the 
 order of General Banks, and report at New Orleans. 
 
 He descended the river, the very waters of which 
 
ROBERT'S FAITH. 547 
 
 were suggestive to him of former scenes of danger, 
 and exploits as wonderful as those which make ro- 
 mantic the knights of the middle ages. From the 
 day when he crossed it escaping to Kentucky to the 
 night when in the boat he crossed with Rose, the era 
 of startling events was pictured on his mind. He 
 crossed first feeling that right would triumph and 
 that the fragments of the flag he carried in his breast 
 would yet float in triumph over the Court-house from 
 which it was torn. Now, after years of suffering and 
 battle, during which many of those he loved had 
 fallen, and thousands of those with whom he had 
 fought had gone down to soldiers* graves. Now, be- 
 fore Petersburg Gran t*s legions were digging to unearth 
 treason, and before Atlanta Sherman was maneuver- 
 ing for victory. Banks had been defeated on the 
 Ked River, Sturgis beaten beyond Memphis, Fort 
 Pillow had left its dark mark on the map, and the 
 stories of rebel prisons become facts which his own 
 terrible experience could verify ; still the faith remained 
 unshaken, the love of liberty intensified, and the cer- 
 tainty of a triumphant return to Texas became an 
 affair as sure as existence. Once Robert Warren had 
 heard a southern man say, that ' ' if the Confederacy 
 failed, he would lose his faith in a God." 
 
 He always thought that if the cause of the nation 
 went dowri, the cause of God and man would go with 
 it, and he felt that God never permitted His cause 
 to go backward. 
 
 John Wharton, had risen to honor and distinction 
 in the Southern army. He was the bravest of the 
 brave, and the truest of the true, to the cause he 
 deemed right. During Warren's imprisonment, as a 
 
648 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 favor to himself, and, as it was supposed, for the good 
 of the Confederacy, he was sent beyond the Missis- 
 sippi, where he was destined to fall by the hands of 
 an assassin, who was warmly enlisted in the Southern 
 cause, and who had that Southern idea of right, which 
 made the wronged the judge of his own case, and the 
 executioner of the penalty his own uncurbed passions 
 might dictate. John Morgan was in Tennessee at that 
 time, it was the limit of his exploits, for he fell by a 
 Union bullet, and his daring became a subject for 
 Southern tradition after that summer of 'G4. Allen 
 -Warren was a colonel with Kousseau, and his cool 
 daring had won the respect of the Army and led to his 
 favorable mention in the reports of a chief unsparing 
 with his praise. 
 
 The cause of the Union looked well. Had it ap- 
 peared darker, it would not have shaken Warren's 
 faith. His case was that of the enlisted minority, 
 through whose faith and valor the war was brought 
 to a successful issue. 
 
 New Orleans in '64, apart from the important 
 Union element, was the New Orleans of 18G1 — trea- 
 son-loving, negro-worshiping, and devoid of virtue 
 and religion. Cowardly gamblers, old Southern men, 
 and women lost to all sense of decency and right, 
 comprised the major part of a population never noted 
 for its tone of justice, or its adherence to the dec- 
 alogue. The men who wore the blue in '64 as in 'Gl, 
 and later, were objects of insult and ridicule to per- 
 sons who lacked the pride to show openly their hate. 
 Butler, coarse and lacking sensibilities, witli a strong 
 heart and a cool head, was the proper man for New 
 Orleans ; and though nov/ working in the useless 
 
MR. HENRY. 649 
 
 Dutch Gap Canal, the lesson he had taught New Or- 
 leans traitors was not forgotten by them under the 
 milder rule of Banks. 
 
 The reception Major Warren received at New Or- 
 leans compensated him for all his sufferings, and, after 
 a few days' stay, he learned with a feeling of delight 
 that he was to be sent as provost marshal to New 
 Iberia, near which he remembered Mr. Henry, the 
 friend of his sister, lived. 
 
 New Iberia, as has before been stated, is situated 
 on the Bayou Teche, a few hours' ride from Berwick's 
 Bay. Around it is the heart of Louisiana, in wealth 
 and culture, the largest slave interest, and the strong- 
 est Southern feeling. 
 
 The position of Major Warren was anything but 
 pleasant. Daily, for the first two weeks, he was beset 
 by men whose slaves had run away, and who claimed, 
 in order to have them recovered, to be Union men, 
 and by persons who were continually complaining 
 against the asserted robberies of Union soldiers. 
 
 One day a gentleman sent in his card, marked "im- 
 portant," and signed " Henry." It did not take long 
 for the gentleman to gain an audience. An orderly 
 brought him into the major's office. 
 
 " Mr. Henry, I believe this is your card?" 
 
 ** Yes, sir, I wished to see you privately." 
 
 " I can speak with you privately here, sir. Ser- 
 geant, clear the office." 
 
 The sergeant did clear the office, and Major Warren, 
 half surmising who the man was, pointed Mr. Henry 
 to a chair. 
 
 "Excuse me. Major WaiTen, but I heard of the ar- 
 rival of a person of your name in New Iberia. I own 
 
650 WAKEEN OF TEXAS. 
 
 property near here, but, for the last two years, I have 
 been living in Algiers, opposite New Orleans. A lady 
 who supposes you to be her son is now stopping at my 
 house." 
 
 " What ! Where did the lady come from?" 
 
 " She came from Gonzelletta, Texas, and is the 
 widow of Robert Warren, senior." 
 
 " And the mother of Robert Warren, junior ! I am 
 her son." 
 
 Robert shook the hand of Mr. Henry, warmly, and 
 added, as he drew his chair near that gentleman's : 
 
 ♦' Are you the friend of Mary Warren — the gentle- 
 man who accompanied her from Texas, and saw her 
 safely off for Vicksburg?" 
 
 " I did accompany the young lady as you describe, 
 and I am convinced she is your sister ; but I have 
 more important information for you than that, for it 
 has become a matter of the past." 
 
 " To what do you refer?" 
 
 " Well, major, I have now under my roof three 
 ladies in whom you are interested. One of them is 
 your mother, the other tv/o are Mrs. Boardman and her 
 daughter Amy. I presume you know the latter lady ? " 
 
 " Indeed I do, Mr. Henry ; and I am glad to know 
 they are in the care of a man so good and true as I 
 know you to be. I learned that Mrs. Boardman had 
 suffered by the confiscation of her property, but I 
 couldnot learn, heretofore, what had become of them." 
 
 " The coincidence was strange. I learned your 
 mother's condition, and that of Mrs. Boardman and 
 Miss Amy, from your sister, and T w'as prepared for 
 what followed, though I did not expect to be the in- 
 strument of help to them." 
 
NEWS OF DEAR ONES. 55i 
 
 " I am deeply interested in this matter, Mr. Henry ; 
 please relate it. For more than two years, since my 
 sister left Texas, I have been in total ignorance of 
 the condition of my mother and of Mrs. Boardman 
 and her daughter, to whom, you may have learned, I 
 am engaged." 
 
 *' It was to tell you of this that I came on from 
 Algiers. Once, major, my plantation was the finest 
 on the Teche. I had scores of hands and hundreds 
 of cattle, and was considered wealthy. To-day I am 
 poor. General Banks, on the side of the Union, and 
 Dick Taylor, on the side of the rebels, have carried 
 off negroes and cattle. In a fight, tliat occurred last 
 year, my dweUing and sugar-house were burned do^\Ti 
 to make room for Taylor's artillery, and the slaves 
 that he did not carry off attached themselves to the 
 pursuing army of Banks. I was fortunate in having 
 some property in New Orleans, which enables me to 
 live in a quiet way for the present ; but so small have 
 been my losses and sufferings compared with yours, 
 that I feel ashamed for having mentioned them in 
 your presence." 
 
 " Grod bless you, Mr. Henry ! It does me good to 
 meet such a man, and it strengthens my faith as to 
 the result of this teiTible war ; but tell me about my 
 mother and the rest of my friends in your care." 
 
 " Excuse me, major, I ought to have done so at once, 
 but somehow self will crop out, and the subject daily 
 nearest to the heart is the one most apt to engage 
 our attention. Your time is fully occupied, so I will 
 not detain you, except by a brief sketch of affairs in 
 which I know you are as much interested as myself." 
 
 " You interest me by the recital of your own affairs. 
 
652 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 They are so closely blended with mine that every 
 word interests me." 
 
 " You are as kind as I expected, major. Let me 
 say I was deeply interested in your sister, and was 
 known, I think, as a Union man in this part of the 
 State. In 'G2, or rather the latter part of that year, 
 there was quite an exodus of Union people from 
 Texas. They sought out my house instinctively, and 
 I think I can say with truth they always found in me 
 a friend. I expected your mother. Indeed, I looked 
 for Mrs. Boardman and Miss Amy, and perhaps 
 Cooper Johnson and Mr. Bell. I knew all about the 
 Union people in your part of Texas, and when your 
 immediate friends reached me I was glad to know 
 that the wife and mother of your friend Graines were 
 permitted to remain. You, of course, know about 
 that infamous confiscation act, and the vile ' Receiv- 
 ers,' as they are called, who were appointed by the 
 Southern government. Under that order, or act, I 
 have forgotten which it was, your mother lost her 
 property, and subsequently Mrs. Boardman was turned 
 out of her place, a man named Church purchasing 
 the property when it was put up for sale. The three 
 ladies started east, hardly knowing their destination, 
 and they reached New Iberia destitute and without 
 friends. There were others besides myself true to 
 the Union. Mr. Trrbard, a French gentleman, ac- 
 quainted me with the an-ival of your friends, and I 
 can assure you I was not slow in finding them out. 
 It was impossible for them to go North at the time, 
 and I was more than glad to be able to offer them my 
 protection. Since then they have been living with 
 me, sharing my privations and waiting with me foi 
 the end." 
 
EN ROUTE. 663 
 
 Mr. Henry ceased, and Eobert grasped his hand. 
 
 " I cannot thank you, my friend. Those whom you 
 have aided are dear to me as life ; without them I 
 would not ask to live beyond the restoration of my 
 country. Where is Amy, now ; where is my mother?" 
 
 ** They are all in Algiers." 
 
 " I wish I had known that before. I was for ten 
 days in New Orleans. I might have been with you 
 all the time." 
 
 Mr. Henry handed the major a letter as he ceased 
 speaking. On opening it, it proved to be an order 
 from General Banks directing him to turn over his 
 office to Colonel Whiting and report at once to him 
 at New Orleans. 
 
 That night Colonel Whiting was provost marshal 
 of New Iberia, and Major Warren, in company with 
 Mr. Henry, was en route to Berwick's Bay, where they 
 expected to find the boat en route to New Orleans. 
 
CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 GONZELLETTA. 
 
 It was October, 18C5. The weather was soft and 
 balmy, and the green woods, and yellow plains, and 
 white cotton fields, about Gonzelletta made a tropical 
 picture, of which the eye did not soon weary. The 
 cattle, sleek and fat from the summer's pasturage, 
 covered the prairies, and the cotton pickers' songs, 
 with chorus and laughter, came from the fields about. 
 As when our story began, Mrs. Boardman and her 
 daughter were sitting in the wide gallery. The mo- 
 ther, with a look of calm contentment on her matronly 
 face, marked by a few more fine lines about the eyes 
 and mouth than when first we saw her. Amy, the 
 same bright, impulsive girl, a little more dignified in 
 her bearing and more womanly in her full develop- 
 ment. 
 
 "Mother, they ought to have been here three, days 
 ago. If they do not arrive this afternoon I shall ^be 
 alarmed. I think it 's not kind in Robert, to be so 
 positive about the day he would get back, when he 
 must know how a disappointment would annoy me.'* 
 
 Amy's lip trembled as she spoke. 
 
 '• My dear child, I fear your experience has not 
 taught you patience. There is some good reason for 
 Robert's not coming. You know his mother was not 
 strong when he took her away ; and then he wished 
 
NEWS OF TOM. 555 
 
 to arrange fully in Washington about this place and 
 his own, which the rebels had confiscated." 
 
 Mrs. Boardman stopped, attracted by the approach 
 of a number of soldiers, accompanied by an officer,. 
 A short distance from the house the officer permitted 
 his men to rest under the fig trees and walked toward 
 the gallery. 
 
 " "Welcome, Captain Chamberlain ; any news from 
 the San Beraard?" 
 
 Captain Chamberlain, a handsome young man with 
 an empty sleeve, saluted the ladies with a cordiality 
 that bespoke an intimate acquaintance and, sitting 
 down, said : 
 
 "The people on the San Beniard are gradually 
 cooling down. It does n't pay to insult United States 
 soldiers. Ever since we sent old Gamble away from 
 these pleasant quarters the rebels keep their thoughts 
 to themselves. By the w^ay, what has become of the 
 Townsend family? I have lost sight of them since 
 they left the Warren plantation.'* 
 
 " I think they went West," said Mi-s. Boardman. 
 ** Mr. Townsend sold all his property in order to secure 
 the Warren plantation. Of course, the title to the 
 purchaser of his own property was good. Unfortu- 
 nately for him, the 'Confederacy,' as they call it, 
 could not give as secure a title to his avaricious 
 acquisitions, and he is to-day a poor man, wherever 
 he is." 
 
 "The reason I asked about Townsend," said the 
 captain, " is that a son of his, who had been in the 
 Texas Bangers, returned to Brazoria this morning. 
 He w^as led by a black boy named Tom. I think the 
 boy told me his name was Tom Boardman." 
 
056 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "Why, that 's my Tom," said Amy quickly. 
 "That's the boy I gave Mary "Warren when she went 
 North during the war. Now I remember, Henderson 
 To>Aiiscnd was present when Mary was arrested, and 
 Kobert — I mean Colonel Warren — told me he thought 
 Townsend had him." 
 
 " Did I understand you to sayi;hat the boy led this 
 man?" asked Mrs. Boardman, 
 
 *' Yes ; Townsend is completely blind, though one 
 would hardly think so to look at his eyes. I spoke 
 to him, and he told me that he left the Rangers in 
 '64, and that the explosion of a shell near Nashville 
 had deprived him forever of sight." 
 
 Amy held down her head as she said, in a low, 
 distinct voice : 
 
 *' God's ways are past our finding out. Nearly five 
 years ago that man, vain and weak and boastful, sat 
 where you now sit, captain ; and when I told him the 
 flag of the Union would yet float from the court- 
 house from which men like him in feeling, but better 
 in heart, had torn it he said : * So help me God, these 
 eyes vjlll he blasted before they rest on Bob Warren 
 here.* They never will; but, thank God, Robert 
 Warren lives and the flag floats there." 
 
 So deeply were all interested in what Amy was 
 saying that they did not notice Gaines till he had 
 dismounted and was fastening his horse near the 
 house. He approached, walking with a perceptible 
 lameness, the effect of a wound received on Sher- 
 man's march. He was accompanied by a poorly- 
 dressed young black man, who bore a striking resem- 
 blanca to Mary's body-guard. His identity was soon 
 confirmed, for before Captain Gaines had reached 
 
"MAMMY IS DAT YOU?" 557 
 
 the gallery a black woman rushed from one of the 
 outbuildings with hysterical cries of — 
 
 " Tommy ! Oh my Tommy, whar did yeh cum from, 
 bless de Lor', Tommy." 
 
 Had Tommy any religious thoughts about "blessing 
 de Lor'" his ability to give any outward manifestat 
 tioH of the fact was curtailed by the black arms about 
 him and the whole-soul kisses that were lavishly 
 poured on his hungry black face. He found time 
 between the woman's rude terms of endearment to ask : 
 "Mammy is dat you?" not that he had the slightest 
 doubt of the fact, but like all great travelers he did 
 want to appear embarrassed. On being assured by 
 the maternal lips of her relationship. Tommy extri- 
 cated himself, and, placing his hands over the place 
 supposed to be occupied by organs of digestion, he 
 said ; 
 
 " Oh, golly, but I 'se hungry. " This salutation was 
 greeted with laughter by the party on the gallery, 
 and Tommy bowing awkwardly to his former mistress 
 precipitately retreated toward the kitchen with his de- 
 iighted mammy. 
 
 "I found that boy in Bi^azoria " said Gaines laugh- 
 ing, and I fed him till I really had fears for his life, 
 but the poor fellow has evidently starved a gi'cat deal. 
 *'Did you see Townsend," asked Captain Chamber- 
 lain. 
 
 *' Yes, and a more miserable wretch I trust I may 
 never see again. Some of our soldiers in the village 
 gave him clothes, blue Yankee clothes, poor devil, all 
 colors are alike to him now. We raised a collection 
 for him and will send him West when we learn where 
 his father is," 
 
 47* 
 
658 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 "How is your family, captain? I heard ytur 
 mother was not well," said Mrs. Boardman. 
 
 " I never saw my wife lookin£j better. She says 
 she never felt better. My buy nas gotten over his 
 strangeness and accepts the situation. He says he 
 loves me, but would like me better if I had no beard 
 like his grandma. I think my mother is stronger, 
 though subject to those nervous attacks brought on 
 by her anxiety while I was away. I came over to pay 
 my respects, and bring you that poor black, but above 
 all to see Miss Mary "Warren and the Colonel, with 
 his mother. He wrote me he would be here for cer- 
 tain to-day." 
 
 *' If Robert doesn't come this afternoon, I shall be 
 more provoked with him than I can express," said 
 Amy pettishly, Captain Gaines laughed. 
 
 " Miss Amy you must n't give up now. I have a 
 distinct recollection of the colonel's leaving here one 
 stormy night in March, *G1, and though you did not 
 see him for nearly four years, I think I am safe 
 in saying you never got provoked with him." 
 
 *' AVhy to be sm*e not, I made a virture of a neces- 
 sity, but, Captain Gaines, every body knows the wed- 
 ding is to be one week from to-day and Mary is 
 brirging iny irossean with her, I cannot prepare in 
 time if he does not come. However, I will not lose 
 heart till the carriage returns from Columbia." After 
 a few minutes spent in general conversation the two 
 gentlemen rose to go, Captain Chamberlain to visit 
 the guard stationed on the Warren plantation, and 
 Gaines to ride up the river, promising as he left to 
 return early on the morrow. 
 
 Tom was sent for after the visitors departed, and 
 
THE EETtTRN. jj, 
 
 before he got through with his disjointed, and very 
 amusing, narration of his adventures since he had left 
 Gonzelletta, the sun was hanging from over the wooded 
 Ime of the San Bernard, and flooding the prairie be- 
 yond and the groves of live oak in the direction of 
 the Brazos. Amy had been watching anxiously, her 
 eyes roaming over the brown, winding road that was 
 lost to sight about a half a mile from the house Sud- 
 denly she bounded from her chair, as a cloud of dust 
 rose m the distant grove through which the road ran. 
 Ihere is the carriage !" she exclaimed, " Oh, they 
 have come, mother, they have come 1" and she bounded 
 down the avenue of magnolia trees. The occupants 
 orthe carnage saw her, and waved their handker- 
 chiefs m token of recognition. The driver urged 
 forward the horses, and drew up as he neared Amy. 
 who had been followed at a more deliberate pace by 
 her mother The door of the carriage opened, their 
 was a cry of delight as a slender girlish form quickly 
 descended and Mary and Amy were clasped in each 
 other s arms. There was a kissing and hand-shaking, 
 and little joyful sobs all round, excepting the very 
 pleasant part which Robert performed, and the car- 
 riage went on and theparty walked back to the house, 
 the girls with encircling arms and Robert between 
 the elder ladies. 
 
 "Oh Robert, if you had not returned to-day I would 
 have been fearfully angry." 
 
 " And I fearfully disappointed," said Robert, as he 
 ascended the steps and bent his bronzed face till his 
 bearded cheek rested against the glowing one of the 
 now beautiful girl. " After awhile I will tell you the 
 cause of our delay and then you will be glad that I 
 
560 WAITREN OF TfiXAS." 
 
 was detained over one boat. No, I can 't tell you 
 noAv ; here comes Archy, I want to speak with him." 
 
 The ladies entered the house, and Archy's tall form 
 was seen in the twilight, approaching with his sweep- 
 ing stride through the grove. By his side walked, or 
 rather ran, a briglit bare-headed black boy about 
 eight years of age. 
 
 " Hello, Archy ! " was Robert's greeting. " Glad 
 to see you my boy," grasping the strong, ever-faithful 
 black hand. 
 
 " Clar* to goodness, Mauss Robut, I 'se been awful 
 lonely since yeh lef two months ago. 'Pears like 
 years." 
 
 •'Why Archy, I never imagined you would miss 
 me, now you are home again all safe with Susey and 
 the young ones. How are they." 
 
 *' Neber better, praise de Lor* ! Heah's one ob de 
 pickaninnies. Dis is Bob. Called 'im arter you. 
 Fore heaben, Mauss Robut, dem ar young uns gib me 
 a heap o' trubble durin' de war. Howsomdever, it 's 
 all nicer now wen its ober. Whar 's Mauss Tennessee, 
 thought he was a comin'." 
 
 '* He will be here in a few days, Archy, with Major 
 Richardson. His wife was not able to travel or he 
 would have come on with me. I left him in New 
 Orleans." 
 
 *' Oh, golly, but Susey '11 be glad to see dem men. 
 I 'se tole her so much about 'em, she 's nigh crazy to 
 see 'em. Gosh, dar she is now ! " As Archy turned 
 at the familiar steps, Susey appeared on the gallery, 
 leading the other pickaninny, a little girl. 
 
 "Fore heben, I's glad to see yeh agin, Mauss 
 Bobut, an* yeh aint agwine away no more, an' yeb 's 
 
A HAPPY REUNION. 561 
 
 all a comiii* back to de ole home; an' whar'sMiss 
 Mary? Tell, please." 
 
 Susey poured this out breathlessly, as she pressed 
 her young master's hand. 
 
 *'Here, Susey, here I am!" called out Mary from 
 the house. 
 
 A cry of joy from the black woman, and leaving 
 the child on the gallery, she rushed in and threw hei 
 arms about the slender form of the young mistress, 
 and sobbed out, " Praise de Lor' ! Oh, gib thanks. Oh 
 my darlin' my own little miss ! My own purty little 
 girl. Bress God, yeh 's back ! safe back, safe back,'* 
 and Susey's heart, too full of affection for expression 
 in words, overflowed in tears, which she poured on 
 the small white hands so many brave men had 
 blessed. 
 
 * ' Yes, home, thank God, Susey ! Home with yon 
 all whom I love," and the contagion of tears spread 
 to her own eyes and those of Amy by her side. 
 Archy came in and bowed over the little hand which 
 he held, and rising applied the new bandana to his 
 eyes, and said in a low voice : 
 
 " I 've seen right smart trubble, Mauss Bob, with- 
 out wettin' my eyes, but clar to Massy I 's so happy 
 I can 't help it. It 's de bread we cas' on de waters 
 long ago, a retumin', some ten, some a hundred fole.* 
 It would be hard to imagine a pleasanter reunion 
 than that which gathered about Mrs. Boardman' s supper 
 table that evening. Susey, to her great delight, was 
 permitted to remain and devote herself to the plate 
 of her young mistress, while she listened in wonder 
 to the narration of her adventures, leaving Texas, 
 and the story of her labors in the hospital at Nashville. 
 
562 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 Mrs. "Warren looked the happiness she felt, as she 
 gazed on the faces of her dear ones and contrasted 
 the joyful present with the gloomy past. After sup- 
 per there was a clattering of heavy feet outside and 
 black faces peered through the windows "to see Mauss 
 Bob, an' de young miss, agin," and " Mauss Bob, an' 
 de young miss," learning that the people were over 
 from the old home to see them, went out on the gal- 
 lery, where a cheer gi*eeted them, and suddenly a hun- 
 dred torches were lit about the house, and in the 
 magnolia grove, each carried by a happy freeman, 
 who, until the war, never knew he was a slave. 
 
 After the black people had feasted their eyes, and 
 sang and shouted themselves hoarse, at Eobert's re- 
 quest, they quietly retired, and the white people re- 
 entered the parlor. 
 
 " Robert, you promised to tell me the cause of your 
 detention," said Amy, as she took a seat beside him 
 and laid one hand lovingly on his broad shoulder. 
 *' I am dying with curiosity to know." 
 
 *'Well, my dear little girl, rather than let your 
 curiosity keep you in a condition which might result 
 dangeroas'y to ray happiness, I will tell you. You 
 have heard me speak about Major Eichardson?" 
 
 " Very often ; and I am longing to see and love 
 him." She looked archly at Mary, and Mary blushed 
 and cast down her eyes. 
 
 *' Never mind about loving him. If I did not ob- 
 ject, Mary would, and I fear your affection would 
 bring trouble to the camp." He would have gone on, 
 but Amy, with a coquettish little scream, placed her 
 hand over his mouth and said he was " awfully wicked 
 to put such a construction on her words." 
 
FRIENDS COMING. 663 
 
 " I am going to tell you that Major Kichardson, 
 jrho had left me the day we were to have started from 
 Washington, telegraphed from Philadelphia not to 
 leave that night, as he would return by the next train 
 to see me. We waited and lost the connection, keep- 
 ing us back three days. The major had intended 
 coming on in January, to be married (Mary dropped 
 her head still lower), but I presume he realized fully 
 bis destitute and entirely desolate condition by the 
 time he reached Philadelphia. When he returned he 
 gt)t the little nurse to consent, with the dear mother's 
 approval and big brother's essential sanction that the 
 wedding should take place here, on the same day and 
 hour that the little affair in which you and I are in- 
 terested comes off." 
 
 *' Oh, I am so glad you waited," and the impulsive 
 girl sprang to Mary's side and raised the burning face^ 
 and kissed it again and again with a torrent of en- 
 dearing names. 
 
 " I did not tell you all, however. My cousin* 
 Colonel Allen Warren, is to come on with him, and 
 your friends — indeed, all our friends, Mr. Henry and 
 Louisa — will be here by the same steamer." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, thank you, Robert ! It was very 
 selfish and thoughtless in me to complain. I will 
 never, never be thoughtless again. I ought to have 
 known you would all be here but for some good 
 reason." 
 
 It was the day before that set apart for the wedding, 
 a beautiful, balmy day, with just enough wind coming 
 from the gulf to vibrate the halyards pendent from 
 the flagstaff on the court house at Brazoria. A num- 
 ber of horses were fastened to the rack before the 
 
664 WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 tavern door, and a half dozen carriages were gathered 
 in the adjoining sheds. The troops in blue that 
 walked the streets appeared more smartly dressed 
 than usual, with bright belt and shining side-arms, 
 while near the glistening stacks of muskets in the 
 court-house yard an armed guard paced, and groups 
 of soldiers in full dress reclined on the yellow sward. 
 The streets Avere crowded with black men in holiday 
 attire, while here and there a bearded face, from be- 
 neath a slouched hat, looked jealously on the scene. 
 
 In the same room where on that fearful day of 'Gl 
 a little band of Union men had gathered, there was 
 another and a larger group about the table, aud one 
 black, wearing the blue, in their midst. 
 
 '•My friends, although mustered out of service 
 months ago, as were you, Richardson, and Gaines, 
 and Colonel Allen Warren, Tennessee, and, I might 
 add, Archy, I think it is eminently proper that on this 
 occasion we should appear in the same harness which 
 we wore while struggling to bring this flag back to the 
 Brazos." Kobert pointed to a flag on the table as he 
 spoke, and addressed his remarks to a number of 
 United States oflicers. 
 
 His speech was applauded by the officers, and Cap- 
 tain Chamberlain raised his aim so eloquent of his 
 valor as he said : 
 
 " You have won the right to wear it. Thank God, 
 Texas has some redeeming features,'* 
 
 *' You will notice, my friends, on this blue field I 
 have sewed, with my own hand, a number of tatters 
 of the old flag. Some of you know the history of 
 what, to an ordinary observer, would seem rags. The} 
 are the remnants of the flag which floated over yon- 
 
THE TAMERED FLAG. 565 
 
 der court-house before the secession of 'Gl. I saw 
 that flag hauled down, torn to tatters, and trampled 
 in the dust ; and, when the infuriated crowd dis- 
 persed, I picked these soiled tatters from the dirt ; 
 and here, in this room, a little band of us swore never 
 to rest till the flag came back to the Brazos. Of the 
 men who raised their hands to Heaven that day with 
 me, there is but one left. (Laying his hand on the 
 captain's shoulder.) My brother-in-arras, and my 
 devoted friend in peril — the gallant Andrew Gaines. 
 I will not tire you, my friends, with a history of our 
 trials, or the still sadder narration of the suflerings of 
 the dear ones we left behind. I carried those tatters 
 with me to Kentucky. They were in my breast at 
 Somerset, Donelson, and Shiloh. A rebel bullet 
 pierced them — see this star ! — before it entered the 
 lung, where now it is lodged. I had them with me 
 at Vicksburg ; but fortunately they were left in my 
 trunk a few days before my capture. "When T was 
 stationed at New Orleans, where I spent the last eight 
 months of my service, I had them sent down to me 
 at once. I would have obeyed my first impulse at 
 the close of the war by giving them to the free 
 winds at once, when there were soldiers here to de- 
 fend them ; but I remembered Gaines, and Tennessee, 
 and E-ichardson, and my noble cousin, and others 
 whose faith was as strong, and whose efforts were 
 greater than mine, and I decided that they should share 
 my triumph. Of the men who hauled down the flag, 
 but few are left. The noblest and bravest, John 
 Wharton, was murdered by one of his own confeder- 
 ates. Addison, a noble misguided lad, sleeps at John- 
 son's Island, where he died a prisoner in our hands. 
 48 
 
666 WARREN OFTEXAS. 
 
 Beiitly, a gallant man, noble in his impulses, bnt 
 UTong in their direction, lies on the banks of White 
 Oak River, in Tennessee. Otliers sleep on many bat- 
 tle-fields ; a few wounded surv^ivors, and others, home- 
 less and friendless, are left. God knows T would and 
 will do all I can to make them happy mider the flag 
 they did so much to ruin. 
 
 Excuse me, my friends, I did not intend making 
 a speech ; but my heart is full of the memories of the 
 past, and with the pleasant surroundings of the pres- 
 ent. Let us throw up this flag, and to-morrow eve- 
 ning we will meet again at Gonzelletta." 
 
 " The kernel's head wuz allers level. I '11 say that 
 fur him, even though I knows he 's agoin ter git mar- 
 ried. I allers feared thar was suthin of that kind 
 wrong with him. Dogon'd, boys, if I aint glad ter be 
 heah. I've suffered right smart myself. My father, 
 brothers, and, wus than all, my little ones were taken ; 
 but the ole woman's left, and, down heah on the Bra- 
 zos, we're agoin to live an' take a fresh start. I don't 
 feel sorry that I look a ban', friends, not by a danied 
 sight. I've had my share of consolations with it all." 
 
 The oflScers descended the stairs after they had 
 severally grasped the hand of the brave Tennessee. 
 Outside they fonncd in order, Robert, Gaines, and 
 Archy in the advance. The bugle sounded, the sol- 
 diers fell in and seized their arms, and, as the three 
 men entered the court-house with the flag, the officer 
 in command ga-e the ringing order, " presert arms 1 " 
 
 A few minutes, and the flag was fast to the hal- 
 yards, and, mid ringing cheers, it rose and streamed 
 out, brighter and fairer, and freer than ever before, 
 and every man gazing up at its folds shared equally 
 
A DOUBLE WEDDING. 667 
 
 in its protection, and looked to Heaven free. The 
 tatters spake of its ancient glory. The shame and 
 the disgrace were torn from it by traitors' hands, to 
 be kept separated from it by loyal ones forever. 
 
 A shabbily -dressed man, leaning on the shoulder 
 of a grey- clad comrade outside the yard said : 
 
 "Taylor, what's all the shoutin for?" 
 
 *' Bob Warren has raised the flag." 
 
 "I will never see it again." Henderson Townsend 
 pressed his browTi hand to his sightless eyes. 
 
 There were women present, whose hearts overflowed 
 at the scenes they had witnessed, and Mr. Henry, 
 who, as a non-military man, remained with them, 
 vowed it was the happiest day of his life. And when 
 the officers gathered about the carriages, he told them 
 they had committed a great oversight in not asking 
 the bravest soldier of all, Mary Warren, to participate 
 in the ceremonies. 
 
 " Yes, the bravest and the best, would the world 
 were like her," said Richaidson, as he looked fondly 
 on the flushed face of the noble girl. 
 
 There was a grand gathering at Gronzelletta next 
 day, officers in uniform and grooms in full dress, sol- 
 diers from the surrounding stations and gaudily dressed 
 negroes from both plantations. A chaplain had come 
 on from New Orleans to perform the ceremony, and 
 Tennessee's wife told Mrs. Gaines she "really never 
 seed anything so awful fine in her life, nor gals so 
 purty as the two agoin' ter be hitched," adding as 
 she noticed Colonel Allen Warren and Louisa Henry 
 much interested in each other at the end of the gal- 
 lery, "Shouldn't wonder a bit if them 'ar two would 
 go nex'. They kinder strikes me that way." 
 
6Gt WARREN OF TEXAS. 
 
 And Mrs. Gaines, resting her hand on the Lead of 
 her bright boy, said she " would not be at all sur- 
 prised." 
 
 It would no doubt interest many of our readers to 
 give a detailed account of the wedding and the 
 dresses, and how the brides behaved, and how the 
 grooms conducted themselves. All passed off hap- 
 pily, and the day was one of festivity and joy as Gon- 
 zelletta had never before seen. 
 
 A few days after the wedding, for the young mar- 
 ried people did not run off on a foolish bridal tour as 
 if ashamed of what they had done, Richardson said 
 to Robert : 
 
 'Mary will not want to leave here. I have, as you 
 know, sold my property in Tennessee, and we have 
 decided to settle permanently in Gonzelletta." 
 
 "Why, of course, I never dreamed of you going 
 away. Mary has some ten thousand acres along the 
 river. Mr. Henry has made up his mind to come here 
 in a few months, and now that my uncle is dead and 
 Bell married, I am sure Cousin Allen will come down 
 and add to our settlement. I am the more assured of 
 this as he and Miss Henry seem more devoted than I 
 ever saw people on the same acquaintance." 
 
 It is 1870, and Texas, though rent by dissensions 
 and disgraced by lawlessness for five years, has one 
 place where there is peace and prosperity, because it 
 is the abode of loyalty and intelligence — Gonzelletta, 
 the home of Warren of Texas. 
 
RARE BOOK 
 COLLECTION 
 
 THE LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA 
 
 AT 
 
 CHAPEL HILL 
 
 Wilmer 
 355