The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation''s Crisis by Joseph A. Altsheler


  CHAPTER VII. ORDERS NO. 191

  When the Union army, defeated at the Second Manassas fell back onWashington, Dick was detached for a few days from the regiment byColonel Winchester, partly that he might have a day or two of leave, andpartly that he might watch over Warner, who was making good progress.

  Warner was in a wagon that contained half a dozen other wounded men, orrather boys, and they were all silent like stoics as they passed overthe bridge to a hospital in Washington. His side and shoulder painedhim, and he had recurrent periods of fever, but he was making fineprogress.

  Dick found his comrade on a small cot among dozens of others in a greatroom. But George's cot was near a window and the pleasant sunshinepoured in. It was now the opening of September, and the hot days werepassing. There was a new sparkle and crispness in the air, and Warner,wounded as he was, felt it.

  "We're back in the capital to enjoy ourselves a while," he saidlightly to Dick, "and I'm glad to see that the weather will be fine forsight-seeing."

  "Yes, here we are," said Dick. "The Johnnies beat us this time. Theydidn't outfight us, but they had the best generals. As soon as you'rewell, George, we'll start out again and lick 'em."

  "I'm glad you told 'em to wait for me, Dick. That's what you ought todo. I hear that McClellan is at the head of things again."

  "Yes, the Army of the Potomac is to the front once more, and it'staken over the Army of Virginia. We hear that Pope is going out to thenorthwest to fight Indians."

  "McClellan is not likely to be trapped as Pope was, but he's sotremendously cautious that he'll never trap anything himself. Now, whichkind of a general would you choose, Dick?"

  "As between those two I'll take McClellan. The soldiers at least likehim and believe in him. And George, our man in the east hasn't come yet.The generals we've had don't hammer. They don't concentrate, rush rightin and rain blows on the enemy."

  "Do you think you know the right man, Dick?"

  "I'm making a guess. It's Grant. We saw him at Donelson and Shiloh.Surprised at both places, he won anyhow. He wouldn't be beat. That's thekind of man we want here in the east."

  "You may be right, Dick, but the politicians in this part of the countryall run him down. Halleck has been transferred to Washington as a sortof general commander and adviser to the President, and they say hedoesn't like Grant."

  Further talk was cut short by a young army surgeon, and Dick leftGeorge, saying that he would come back the next day. The streets ofWashington were full of sunshine, but not of hope and cheerfulness.The most terrible suspense reigned there. Never before or since wasWashington in such alarm. A hostile and victorious army was within aday's march. Pope almost to the last had talked of victory. Then came atelegram, asking if the capital could be defended in case his army wasdestroyed. Next came the army preceded by thousands of stragglers andheralds of disaster.

  The people were dropped from the golden clouds of hope to the hard earthof despair. They strained their eyes toward Manassas, where the flag ofthe Union had twice gone down in disaster. It was said, and therewas ample cause for the saying of it, that Lee and Jackson with theirvictorious veterans would appear any moment before the capital.There were rumors that the government was packing up in order to fleenorthward to Philadelphia or even New York.

  But Dick believed none of these rumors. In fact, he was not greatlyalarmed by any of them. He was sure that McClellan, although withoutgenius, would restore the stamina of the troops, if indeed it were everlost, which he doubted very much. He had seen how splendidly they foughtat the Second Manassas, and he knew that there was no panic among them.Moreover, the North was an inexhaustible storehouse of men and material,and whenever one soldier fell two grew in his place.

  So he strode through the crowded streets, calm of face and manner, andtook his way once more to the hotel, where he had sat and listened tothe talk before the Second Manassas. The lobby was packed with men, andthere was but one topic, the military situation. Would Lee and Jacksonadvance, hot upon the heels of their victory? Would Washington fall?Would McClellan be able to save them? Why weren't the generals of theNorth as good as those of the South?

  Dick listened to the talk which was for all who might choose to hear. Hedid not assume any superior frame of mind, merely because he had foughtin many battles and these men had fought in none. He retained thenatural modesty of youth, and knowing that one who looked on mightsometimes be a better judge of what was happening than the one who tookpart, he weighed carefully what they said.

  He was in a comfortable chair by the wall, and while he sat there aheavy man of middle age, whom he remembered well, approached and stoodbefore him, regarding him with a keen and measuring eye.

  "Good morning, Mr. Watson," said Dick politely.

  "Ah, it is you, Lieutenant Mason!" said the contractor. "I thought so,but I was not sure, as you are thinner than you were when I last sawyou. I'll just take this seat beside you."

  A man in the next chair had moved and the contractor dropped into it.Then he crossed his legs, and smoothed the upper knee with a strong, fathand.

  "You've had quite a trip since I last saw you, Mr. Mason," he said.

  "We didn't go so terribly far."

  "It's not length that makes a trip. It's what you see and what happens."

  "I saw a lot, and a hundred times more than what I saw happened."

  The contractor took two fine cigars from his vest pocket and handed oneto Dick.

  "No, thank you," said the boy, "I've never learned to smoke."

  "I suppose that's because you come from Kentucky, where they raise somuch tobacco. When you see a thing so thick around you, you don't carefor it. Well, we'll talk while I light mine and puff it. And so, youngman, you ran against Lee and Jackson!"

  "We did, or they ran against us, which comes to the same thing."

  "And got well thrashed. There's no denying it."

  "I'm not trying to do so."

  "That's right. I thought from the first that you were a young man ofsense. I'm glad to see that you didn't get yourself killed."

  "A great many good men did."

  "That's so, and a great many more will go the same way. You just listento me. I don't wear any uniform, but I've got eyes to see and ears tohear. I suppose that more monumental foolishness has been hidden undercocked hats and gold lace than under anything else, since the worldbegan. Easy now, I don't say that fools are not more numerous outsidearmies than in them--there are more people outside--but the mistakes ofgenerals are more costly."

  "I suppose our generals are doing the best they can. You will let mespeak plainly, will you, Mr. Watson?"

  "Of course, young man. Go ahead."

  "Perhaps you feel badly over a disaster of your own. I saw the smokingfires at Bristoe Station. The rebels burned there several milliondollars worth of stores belonging to us. Maybe a large part of them wereyour own goods."

  The contractor rubbed his huge knee with one hand, took his cigar outof his mouth with the other hand, blew several rings of fine blue smokefrom his nose, and watched them break against the ceiling.

  "Young man," he said, "you're a good guesser, but you don't guess all.More than a million dollars worth of material that I supplied wasburned or looted at Bristoe Station. But it had all been paid for by aperfectly solvent Union government. So, if I were to consider it fromthe purely material standpoint, which you imagine to be the only one Ihave, I should rejoice over the raids of the rebels because they maketrade for contractors. I'm a patriot, even if I do not fight at thefront. Besides my feelings have been hurt."

  "In what way?"

  The contractor drew from his pocket a coarse brown envelope, and he tookfrom the envelope a letter, written on paper equally coarse and brown.

  "I received this letter last night," he said. "It was addressed simply'John Watson, Washington, D. C.,' and the post office people gave it tome at once. It came from somebody within the Confederate lines. You knowhow the Northern and Southern pickets exchange tobacco, n
ewspapers andsuch things, when they're not fighting. I suppose the letter was passedon to me in that way. Listen."

 
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