CHAPTER XIX.
FREE!
It was not until late in the afternoon that a white officer entered, andordered the soldiers to conduct the prisoner to the general's tent.
"What is your name, sir, and who are you?" the general asked as he wasbrought in. "I hear that you were denounced by Lieutenant Jackson asbeing a spy, and that he addressed you as Vincent Wingfield. What haveyou got to say to the charge?"
"My name is Vincent Wingfield, sir," Vincent replied quietly. "I am uponthe staff of General Wade Hampton, and in pursuance of my duty I camehere to learn what I could of your movements and intentions."
The general was silent for a moment.
"Then, sir, as you are an officer, you must be well aware of theconsequence of being discovered in disguise here. I regret that there isno course open to me but to order you to be shot as a spy to-morrowmorning."
One of the officers who were standing by the general here whispered tohim.
"Ah, yes! I remember," he said. "Are you the same officer, sir, whoescaped from Elmira?"
"I am, sir," Vincent replied; "and at the same time aided in the escapeof the man who denounced me to-day, and who then did his best to have mearrested by sending an anonymous letter stating the disguise in which Iwas making my way through the country. I was not surprised to find thathe had carried his treachery further, and was now fighting against themen whom he had formerly served."
"He deserved the fate that has befallen him," the general said. "Stillthis does not alter your position. I regret that I must order mysentence to be carried out."
"I do not blame you, sir. I knew the risks I ran when I accepted themission. My only regret is that I failed in supplying my general withthe information he required."
The general then turned to the officer who had brought Vincent up.
"This officer will remain in charge of your men for to-night, CaptainPearce. You will see that the sentence is carried into effect atdaybreak. I need not tell you that a vigilant guard must be placed overhim."
Vincent was again marched back to the village, but the officer haltedthe party when he arrived there.
"Stop here a few minutes, sergeant," he said. "That room is required foran officer's quarters. I will look round and find another place."
In a few minutes he returned, and Vincent was conducted to a shedstanding in the garden of one of the houses.
"Place one man on guard at the door and another behind," the officersaid to the sergeant. "Let the other two relieve them, and change thewatch once an hour."
The sergeant saluted.
"De men hab been on duty since daylight, sah, and none ob us hab hadanyting to eat."
"Oh, I forgot that!" the officer replied. "Very well, I will sendanother party to relieve you at once."
In ten minutes another sergeant and four men arrived at the spot, andTony and his companions returned to the camp.
As soon as Tony had devoured a piece of bread he left the camp, walkedwith careless gait through the camps behind, and went on until hereached a village in which were comparatively few soldiers. He went upto a woman who was standing at a door.
"Missus," he said, "I hab got a letter to take, and I aint bery sure asto de name. Will you kindly tell me what is de address writ on thispaper?"
The woman looked at it.
"'Mrs. Grossmith, Worley Farm, near Union.' That's about two miles alongthe road. If you go on, anyone will tell you which is Mrs. Grossmith's."
Tony hurried on, for he wanted to get back to the camp before it wasdark. He had no difficulty in finding Worley Farm.
"Now then, what do you want?" its owner said sharply, as she opened thedoor in reply to his knock. "There's nothing for you here. You can lookround if you like. It's been all stripped clean days ago, so I tellyou."
"Me no want anyting, ma'am. Me hab a letter for you."
The woman in surprise took the note and opened it. She read it throughand looked earnestly at Tony.
"He says you are to be trusted," she said. "Is that so?"
"I would gib my life for him twenty times over," Tony replied. "He gotme away from a brutal master and bought my wife out of slavery for me.What does he say, ma'am? For de Lord sake tell me. Perhaps he tell mehow to get him clar."
The woman read out the contents of the note.
"Dat's it, missus, sure enough; dat's the way," he exclaimed in delight."Me tink and tink all day, and no manage to tink of anyting except toshoot de sentry and fight wid de oders and get him out; but den all deoder sojers come running down, and no chance to escape. If me can get despirits dat's easy enough. Me make dem all drunk as hogs."
"I can give you that," the woman said. "Is there anything else you willwant? What are you going to do with him if you get him free? They willhunt you down like vermin."
"I tought we might get down to de river and get ober somehow. Dere willbe no getting troo der cavalry. Dey will hab dem on ebery road."
"Well, you want some clothes, anyhow; you can't go about in thesesoldier clothes. The first Yank you came across would shoot you for adeserter, and the first of our men as a traitor. Well, by the time youget back to-night,--that is, if you do come back,--I will get up a chestI've got buried with my men's clothes in them. They didn't want to takethem away to the war with them, so I hid them up."
She had by this time dug up the keg from its hiding-place, and nowfilled Tony's canteen.
"Tank you, missus; de Lord bress you for what you've done, wheder I getMassa Wingfield off or wheder we bofe get killed ober de job. But I mustget back as fast as I can. Ef it was dark before I got back to camp deywould wonder whar I had been."
"Oh, you have plenty of time," the woman said; "it won't be dark tilleight o'clock, and it's not seven yet. I will set to and boil a bigchunk of pork and bake some cakes. It's no use getting out of the handsof the Yanks and then going and getting starved in the swamps."
When Tony got back to his regiment he strolled over to the shed whereVincent was confined. Two sentinels were on duty, the sergeant and thetwo other men were lying at full length on the ground some twenty yardsaway. Their muskets were beside them, and it was evident to Tony, by thevigilant watch that they kept on the shed, that their responsibilityweighed heavily upon them, and that Captain Pearce had impressed uponthem that, if the prisoner escaped, they would certainly be shot.
"Well, Sergeant John Newson," Tony began, "I hab just walked over to seehow you getting on. It am a mighty 'sponsible business dis. I had sixhours of him, and it make de perspiration run down my back to tink whata job it would be for me if dat fellow was to run away."
"Dat's just what dis chile feel, Sergeant Tony Moore; I am zactly likedat, and dat's what these men feel, too. We am all on guard. De captainsay put two on guard at de shed and let de oders relieb dem ebery hour.So dey shall; but dose off duty must watch just de same. When it getsdark we get close up, so as to be ready to jump in directly we hear astir. Dis fellow no fool us."
"Dat's the way Sergeant Newson, dat am de way. Neber close your eye, butkeep a sharp look on dem. It's a pity dat you not in camp to-night."
"How am dat, how am dat?" the sergeant asked.
"To tell you de truf, sergeant, tree or four ob us hab smuggled in somespirits, and you are one of dose who would hab come in for a share of itif you had been dere."
"Golly!" the sergeant exclaimed; "but dat is bery unfortunate. Can't youmanage to bring me a little here?"
"Well, you know, it's difficult to get out ob camp."
"Oh, you could get through! Dere is no fear about you being caught."
"I don't know," Tony replied with an air of reluctance. "Well, I willsee about it. Ef I can crawl troo de sentries, and bring some for youand de oders, I will. It will help keep you awake and keep out dedamp."
"Dat's right down good ob you," the other said cordially. "You a goodman, Tony Moore; and if I can do as much for you anoder time, I do it."
Having settled this, Tony went round to the hospital tent in rear of
theregiment, having tied up his face with a handkerchief.
"Well, what is it, sergeant?" the negro who acted as an orderly, andsometimes helped the surgeon mix his drugs, asked. "De doctor am goneaway, and I don't 'spect he come back again to-night."
"Dat am bery bad ting," Tony said dolefully. "Can't you do something forme, Sam Smith? I tink you know quite as much about de medicines as dedoctor himself."
"Not quite so much, sergeant, not quite so much; but I'se no fool, andmy old mother she used to make medicine for de plantation and knew aheap about herbs, so it am natural dat I should take to it. What can Igib you?"
"Well, Sam, you see, sometimes I'se 'flicted dre'fful wid defaceache--him just go jump, jump, jump, as if he bust right up. Mosetimes I find de best ting am to put a little laudabun in my mouf, and alittle on bit of rag and put him outside. De best ting would be for youto gib me little bottle of him; den when de pain come on I could jestake him, and not be troubling you ebery day. And, Sam, jus youwhisper--I got hold of a little good stuff. You gib me tin mug; me sharewhat I hab got with you."
The negro grinned with delight, and going into the tent brought out atin mug.
"Dat's all right, Sam; but you hab no brought de bottle of laudabun. Youjust fetch dat, and I gib you de spirit."
The negro went in again, and in two minutes returned with a small bottleof laudanum.
"Dat's a fair exchange," Tony said, taking it, and handing to the manhis mug half full of spirit.
"Dat am someting like," the black said, looking with delight at theliberal allowance. "Me drink him de last ting at night, den me go tosleep and no one 'spect nuffin'. Whereber you get dat spirit?"
"Neber you mind, Sam!" Tony said with a grin. "Dar's more where datcomes from, and maybe you will get anoder taste ob it."
Then, after leaving the hospital tent, he poured half the spirits away,for he had not now to depend upon the effect of that alone; and it werebetter not to give it too strong, for that might arouse the suspicion ofthe guard. Then he uncorked the bottle of laudanum.
"I don't know how much to gib," he said to himself. "No good to killdem. Me don't 'spect dis stuff bery strong. Dose rogues sell all sortsof stuff to de Government. Anyting good enough for de soldier. Dey gibhim rotten boots, and rotten cloth, and bad powder, and all sorts oftings. I 'spect dey gib him bad drugs, too. However, me must risk it.Dis bottle not bery big, anyhow--won't hold more dan two or threeteaspoon. Must risk him."
So saying, he poured the contents of the vial into the canteen, andthen, going to a water-cart, filled it up. He waited until the camp wasquiet, and then, taking off his boots and fastening in his belt his ownbayonet and that of one of the men sleeping near, he quietly andcautiously made his way out of camp. There were no sentries placed here,for there was no fear whatever of an attack, and he had littledifficulty in making his way round to the back of the village to thespot where Vincent was confined. He moved so quietly that he was notperceived until he was within a few yards of the shed.
"Sergeant Newson, am you dere?"
"Bless me! what a start you hab given me, for suah," the sergeant said."I did not hear you coming."
"You didn't s'pose I was coming along shouting and whistling, SergeantNewson? Don't you talk so loud! Dar am no saying who's about."
"Hab you brought de stuff?"
"You don't suppose I should hab come all dis way to tell you I hab notgot it. How am do prisoner?"
"Oh, he's dere all right. My orders was to look in at dat little winderebery five minutes, and dat when it began to get dark me was to tie himquite tight, and me hab done so. And one ob de sentries goes in everyfive minutes and feels to see if de ropes are tight. He am dar, sureenough."
"Dat's quite right, Sergeant Newson. I knew, when you came to 'lieve me,as de captain knew what he was doing when he choose you for dis job. Hejust pick out de man he considers de very best in de regiment. Now, hereis de spirit; and fuss-rate stuff it am, too."
"Golly, but it am strong!" the sergeant said, taking a long gulp at thecanteen. "Dat warm de cockles ob de heart in no time. Yes, it am goodstuff--just de ting for dis damp air. I hear as a lot of de whitesoldiers are down wid de fever already, and dere will be lots and lotsmore ef we stop here long. Here, you two men, take a drink of dis; butmind, you mustn't tell no one 'bout it. Dis a secret affair."
The two negroes each took a long drink, and returned the canteen withexpressions of approval.
"De oder men are on duty," the sergeant said with the air of a man whoknew his business; "dey mustn't hab none of it, not until dey comes off.As we are de relief, it am proper and right dat we drink a drop out ob acanteen ef we want it."
"Quite so, Sergeant Newson," Tony said in a tone of admiration. "Dat'sde way to manage dese tings--duty first and pleasure afterward."
"It am nearly time to relieve guard," the other said; "and den dey canhab a drink."
In five minutes the two soldiers relieved those on guard, and they,also, took a long drink at the canteen, to which the sergeant also againapplied his lips.
"Now I must be going," Tony said. "I will leave the canteen with you,sergeant. I have got some more of the stuff over there, and I dare sayyou will like another drink before morning."
Then he stole away, but halted and lay down twenty yards distant. In tenminutes he heard the sergeant say:
"I feel as if I could do jus five minutes' sleep. You keep your eyes onde shed, and ef you hear any officer coming his rounds you wake me up."
Tony waited another half hour and then crawled up. The sergeant waslying on his back sound asleep; the two men with him were on theirfaces, with their rifles pointing toward the shed, as if they haddropped off to sleep while they were staring at it. Then he crawled onto the shed. The soldier on sentry at the back had grounded his musketand was leaning against the shed fast asleep, while the one at the doorhad apparently slid down in a sitting position and was snoring.
"I hope I haben't given it to dem too strong," Tony said to himself;"but it can't be helped anyhow."
He opened the door and entered the shed.
"Are you awake, Marse Wingfield?"
"Yes, I am awake, Tony. Thank God you have come! How did you manage it?"
"I hab managed it, sah, and dey are all fast asleep," Tony said, as hecut the ropes which bound Vincent.
"Now, sah, let's be going, quick. Dar am no saying when dey may comeround to look after de guards. Dat's what I hab been worrying about delast quarter ob an hour."
Vincent sprang to his feet as the ropes fell from him, and graspedTony's hand.
"Here am a baynet, sah. I hope we shan't want to use dem, but dar am nosaying."
They made their way cautiously across the fields till they approachedanother camp. A few sentries were walking up and down in front of it,but they crawled round these and passed through the space between theregiment and that next to it. Several other camps were passed and then,when Vincent knew that they were well in rear of the whole of them,they rose to their feet and started forward at a run. Suddenly Tonytouched Vincent, and they both stood still. A distant shout came throughthe air, followed by another and another.
"I 'spect dey hab found out we have gone, sah. Dey go round two or threetimes in de night to see dat de sentries are awake. Now, sah, comealong."
They were on the road now, and ran at full speed until they approachedUnion. They left the track as they neared the village, and as they didso they heard the sound of a horse at full gallop behind them.
"That's an orderly taking the news of our escape. Sheridan's cavalry arescattered all over the country, and there are two squadrons at UnionGrove. The whole country will be alive at daybreak."
Making their way through the fields they soon struck the track leadingto Worley Farm, and in a few minutes were at the door. The woman openedit at once.
"I have been watching for you," she said, "and I am real glad you havegot safe away. Wait a minute and I will strike a light."
"You had better not do that," Vince
nt said. "They have got the alarm atUnion Grove already, and if anyone caught sight of a light appearing inyour window, it would bring them down here at once.
"They can't see the house from Union," the woman said. "Still, perhapsit will be best. Now, sir, I can't do anything for you, because my men'sclothes are the same sort of cut as yours; but here's a suit for thisman."
Thanking her warmly Vincent handed the things to Tony.
"Make haste and slip them on, Tony; and make your other things up into abundle and bring them with you for a bit. We must leave nothing here,for they will search the whole country to-morrow. We will take the horseaway, too; not that we want it, but it would never do for it to be foundhere."
"Will you take your letter again?" the woman asked.
"No, I will leave it with you. It will be no use now, if I get through,but if you hear to-morrow or next day that I am caught, please carry itas we arranged. What is this?" he asked, as the woman handed him abundle.
"Here are eight or ten pounds of pork," she said, "and some corn cakes.If you are hiding away you will want something, and I reckon, anyhow,you won't be able to make your way to our people for a bit. Now, if youare ready, I will start with you."
"You will start with us!" Vincent repeated in surprise.
"Certainly I will start with you," the woman said. "How do you think youwould be able to find your way a dark night like this? No, sir; I willput you on your way till morning. But, in the first place, which line doyou mean to take?"
"I do not think there is much chance of getting back the way I came,"Vincent said. "By morning Sheridan's cavalry will have got a descriptionof me, and they will be scouring the whole country. The only chance willbe to go north and cross the river somewhere near Norfolk."
"I think, sah, you better go on wid your horse at once. No use wait forme. I come along on foot, find my own way."
"No, Tony, I shall certainly not do that. We will either get off or betaken together. Well, I think the best plan will be to go straight downto the river. How far is it away?"
"About fifteen miles," the woman said.
"If we get there we can get hold of a boat somehow, and either cross andthen make straight for Richmond on foot, or go up the river in the boatand land in the rear of our lines. That we can settle about afterward.The first thing is to get to the river bank. We are not likely to meetwith any interruption in that direction. Of course the cavalry are allon the other flank, and it will be supposed that I shall try either towork round that way or to make straight through the lines. They wouldhardly suspect that I shall take to the river, which is covered withtheir transports and storeships."
"I think that is the best plan," the woman said. "There are scarcely anyvillages between this and the river. It's only just when you cross theroad between Petersburg and Williamsburg that you would be likely tomeet a soul, even in the daytime. There is scarce even a farmhouseacross this section. I know the country pretty well. Just stop a minuteand I will run up to the wood and fetch down the horse. There's a bigwood about a mile away, and you can turn him in there."
A few minutes later they started, Vincent leading the horse and Tonycarrying the bundle of food and his cast-off uniform. The woman led themby farm roads, sometimes turning off to the right or left, but keepingher way with a certainty which showed how well she was acquainted withthe country. Several times they could hear the dull sound of bodies ofcavalry galloping along the roads; but this died away as they gotfurther into the country. The horse had been turned loose a mile fromtheir starting place. Vincent removed the bridle and saddle, saying: "Hewill pick up enough to feed on here for some time. When he gets tired ofthe woods he can work his way out into a clearing."
Here Tony hid away his uniform among some thick bushes, and the threewalked steadily along until the first tinge of daylight appeared on thesky. Then the woman stopped.
"The river is not more than half a mile in front of you," she said; "soI will say good-by."
"What will you do?" Vincent asked. "You might be questioned as you getnear home."
"I am going to put up at the last house we passed," she said; "aboutthree miles back. I know the people there, and they will take me in. Iwill stop there for a day or two, maybe, then walk back, so I shall havea true story to tell. That's all right."
Vincent said good-by to her, with many hearty thanks for the servicesshe had rendered him, and had almost to force her to take notes for twohundred dollars from the bundle he had sewn up in the lining of hiscoat.
"You have saved my life," he said, "and some day I hope to be able to domore to show my gratitude; but you must take this, anyhow, to tide youover the hard time, and find food for your husband and sons when theycome back from the war."
As soon as the woman had turned back Vincent and Tony continued on theirway. The former had, as soon as they were fairly out from the Federalcamp, told Tony in a few words that his wife was safe at home and theirboy flourishing, and he now gave him further details of them.
"And how came you to enter the army, Tony?"
"Well, sah, dare wasn't much choice about it. De Northern people, deytalk mighty high about der love for de negro, but I don't see much of itin der ways. Why, sah, dey is twice as scornful ob a black man as degentlemen in de Souf. I list in de army, sah, because dey say dey go toRichmond, and den I find Dinah and de boy."
"Well, Tony, I little thought when I did you a service that it would bethe means of you being able to save my life some day."
"Not much in dat, sah. You sabe my life, because dey would, for suah,hab caught me and killed me. Den you save my wife for me, den you payout dat Jackson, and now you hab killed him. I could hab shouted forjoy, sah, when I saw you hit him ober de head wid de shovel, and I sawdat dis time he gib no more trouble to no one. I should hab done for himbery soon, sah. I had my eye upon him, and the fust time we got intobattle he got a ball in his back. Lucky he didn't see me. He not officerob my company, and me look quite different in de uniform to what me waswhen I worked on de plantation; but I knew him, and wheneber I see himpass I hang down my head and I say to myself, 'My time come soon, MassaJackson; my time come bery soon, and den we get quits.'"
"It is wrong to nourish revenge, Tony; but I really can't blame you verymuch as to that fellow. Still, I should have blamed you if you hadkilled him--blamed you very much. He was a bad man, and he treated youbrutally, but, you see, he has been already punished a good deal."
"Yes, you knock him down, sah. Dat bery good, but not enough for Tony."
"But that wasn't all, Tony. You see, the affair set all my friendsagainst him, and his position became a very unpleasant one. Then, yousee, if it hadn't been for you he would probably have got through to ourlines again after he had escaped with me. Then, you see, his father, outof revenge, stole Dinah away."
"Stole Dinah!" Tony exclaimed, stopping in his walk. "Why, sah, you habbeen telling me dat she is safe and well wid Mrs. Wingfield."
"So she is, Tony. But he stole her for all that, and had her carrieddown into Carolina; but I managed to bring her back. It's a long story,but I will tell you about it presently. Then the knowledge that I hadfound Dinah, and the fear of punishment for his share of taking heraway, caused old Jackson to fly from the country, getting less than aquarter of the sum his estate would have fetched two or three years ago.That was what made him and his son turn Unionists. So, you see, Jacksonwas heavily punished for his conduct to you, and it did not need for youto revenge yourself."
"So he was, sah, so he was," Tony said thoughtfully. "Yes, it does seemas if all dese tings came on kinder one after de oder, just out ob datflogging he gabe me: and now he has got killed for just de same cause,for if he hadn't been obliged to turn Unionist he wouldn't have been indat dar battery at de time you came dere. Yes, I sees dat is so, sah;and I'se glad now I didn't hab a chance ob shooting him down, for Ishould have done so for suah, ef I had."
They had now reached the river. The sun was just showing above thehorizon, and the broad sheet of wa
ter was already astir. Steamers weremaking their way up from the mouth of the river, laden with stores forthe army. Little tugs were hurrying to and fro. Vessels that haddischarged their cargo were dropping down with the tide, while manysailing vessels lay at anchor, waiting for the turn of tide to maketheir way higher up. Norfolk was, however, the base from which theFederal army drew the larger portion of its stores; as there were greatconveniences for landing here, and a railway thence ran up to the rearof their lines. But temporary wharves and stages had been erected at thepoint of the river nearest to their camps in front of Petersburg, andhere the cattle and much of the stores required for the army werelanded. At the point at which Vincent and Tony had struck the river thebanks were somewhat low. Here and there were snug farms, with the groundcultivated down to the river. The whole country was open and free fromtrees, except where small patches had been left. It was in front of oneof these that Vincent and Tony were now standing.
"I do not think there is any risk of pursuit now, Tony. This is not theline on which they will be hunting us. The question is--how are we toget across?"
"It's too far to swim, sah."
"I should think it was," Vincent said with a laugh. "It's three or fourmiles, I should say, if it's a foot. The first question is--where are weto get a boat? I should think that some of these farmhouses are sure tohave boats, but the chances are they have been seized by the Yankeeslong ago. Still they may have some laid up. The Yanks would not havemade much search for these, though they would no doubt take all thelarger boats for the use of the troops or for getting stores ashore.Anyhow, I will go to the next farmhouse and ask."
"Shall I go, sah?"
"No, Tony, they would probably take you for a runaway. No, I will go.There can be no danger. The men are all away, and the women are sure tobe loyal. I fancy the few who were the other way before will havechanged their minds since the Yanks landed."
They followed the bank of the river for a quarter of a mile, and thenVincent walked on to a small farmhouse standing on the slope fifty yardsfrom the water. Two or three children, who were playing outside, at onceran in upon seeing a stranger, and a moment later two women came out.They were somewhat reassured when they saw Vincent approaching alone.
"What is it, stranger?" one of them asked. "Do you want a meal? We havegot little enough to offer you, but what there is you are welcome to.The Yanks have driven off our cows and pigs and the two horses, and haveemptied the barns, and pulled up all the garden stuff, and stole thefowls, and carried off the bacon from the beams, so we have got but anempty larder. But, as far as bread and molasses go, you are welcome."
"Thank you," Vincent said; "I am not in want of food. What I am in wantof is a boat."
"Boat!" the woman repeated in surprise.
"Yes, I want to get across to the other side, or else to get up theriver and land between Petersburg and Bermuda."
"Sakes alive!" the woman exclaimed; "what do you want to do that for?"
"I will tell you," Vincent replied. "I know I can trust my life to anywoman in the Confederacy. I am one of General Wade Hampton's officers,and I have come through their lines to find out what they are doing. Ihave been caught once, but managed to slip through their hands, butthere is no possibility of making my way back across the country, forthe Yankee cavalry are patrolling every road, and the only chance I haveis of getting away by boat."
"Step right in, sir," the woman said. "It's a real pleasure to us tohave one of our officers under our roof."
"I have a friend with me," Vincent said; "a faithful negro, who hashelped me to escape, and who would be hung like a dog if they could layhands on him."
"Bring him in, sir," the woman said hospitably. "I had four or fiveniggers till the Yanks came, but they all ran away 'cause they knew theywould either be set to work or made to fight; so they went. They saidthey would come back again when the trouble is over; maybe they will andmaybe they won't. At first the niggers about here used to look for theYanks coming, but as the news got about of what happened to those theytook from their masters, they concluded they were better off where theywere. Call your boy in, sir; call him in!"
Vincent gave a shout, and Tony at once came up. "Thank you, we don'twant anything to eat," Vincent went on, as the woman began to put someplates on the table. "We have just had a hearty meal, and have gotenough food for three or four days in that bundle. But we want a boat,or, if we can't find that, some sailors' clothes. If I had them I wouldkeep along the river down to Norfolk. The place will be full of sailors.We should not be likely to be noticed there."
"I can't help you in that," the woman said; "but there are certainlysome boats laid up along the shore. Now, Maria, who has got boats thathaven't been taken?"
"I expect the Johnsons have got one," the other woman replied. "They hada small boat the boys and girls used to go out fishing in. I don't thinkthe Yanks have got that. I expect they hid it away somewhere; but Idon't know as they would let you have it. She is a close-fisted woman isSarah Johnson."
"I could pay her for its value," Vincent said.
"Oh, well, if you could pay her she would let you have it. I don't sayshe wouldn't, anyhow, seeing as you are an officer and the Yanks areafter you. Still, she is close is Sarah Johnson, and I don't know as sheis so set on the Confederacy as most people. I tell you what I will do,sir. I will go down and say as a stranger wants to buy her boat, and noquestions asked. She is just to show where the boat is hidden, and youare to pay for it and take it away when you want it."
"That would be a very good plan," Vincent said, "if you wouldn't mindthe trouble."
"The trouble is nothing," she said. "Johnson's place aint above a milealong the shore."
"I will go with you until you get close to the house," Vincent said;"then, when you hear what she wants for the boat, I will give you themoney for it, and you can show me where it is hidden."
This was accordingly done. Mrs. Johnson, after a considerable amount ofbargaining with Vincent's guide, agreed to take twenty dollars for theboat, and, upon receiving the money, sent one of her boys with her toshow her where it was hidden. It was in a hole that had been scooped outin the steep bank some ten feet above the water's edge, and wascompletely hidden from the sight of anyone rowing past by a small clumpof bushes. When the boy had returned to the farmhouse the woman tookVincent to the spot, and they then went back together.
Here he and Tony had a long talk as to whether it would be better to putout at once or to wait till nightfall. It was finally determined that itwas best to make an immediate start. A boat rowed by two men wouldattract little attention. It might belong to any of the ships at anchorin the river, and might be supposed to have gone on shore to fetch eggsor chickens, or with a letter or a message.
"You see, both shores are in the hands of the Yankees," Vincent said,"and there will not be any suspicion of a boat in the daytime. At nightwe might be hailed, and, if we gave no answer, fired upon, and thatmight bring a gunboat along to see what was the matter. No, I think itwill be far best to go on boldly. There are not likely to be any bodiesof Federal troops on the opposite shore except at Fortress Monroe, andperhaps opposite the point where they have got their landing belowPetersburg. Once ashore we shall be safe. The peninsula opposite iscovered with forest and swamp, and we shall have no difficulty ingetting through, however many troops they may have across it. You knowthe place pretty well, don't you, Tony?"
Tony nodded. "Once across, sah, all de Yank army wouldn't catch us. Meknow ob lots ob hiding places."
"Them broad hats will never do," the woman said; "but I have got someblue nightcaps I knitted for my husband. They are something like thecaps I have seen some sailors wear; anyhow, they will pass at adistance, and when you take your coats and vests off, them coloredflannel shirts will be just the right thing."
"That will do capitally, and the sooner we are off the better," Vincentsaid, and after heartily thanking the two women, and bestowing a presentupon each of the children, they started along the shore.
r />
The boat was soon got into the water, the oars put out, and theystarted. The tide was just low now, and they agreed to pull along at ashort distance from the shore until it turned. As soon as it did so thevessels at anchor would be getting up sail to make up to the landingplace, and even had anyone on board noticed the boat put out, and hadbeen watching it, they would have other things to think about.
"It is some time since we last rowed in a boat together, Tony."
"About three years, sah; dat time when you get me safe away. I had a badfright dat day you left me, sah. It came on to blow bery hard, and someob de men told me dat dey did not tink you would ever get back to shore.Dat made me awful bad, sah; and me wish ober and ober again dat me habdied in de forest instead of your taking me off in a boat and trowingaway your life. I neber felt happy again, sah, till I got your letter upin Canady, and knew you had got back safe dat day."
"We had a narrow squeak of it, Tony, and were blown some distance up. Wewere nearly swamped a score of times, and Dan quite made up his mindthat it was all up with us. However, we got through safe, and I don'tthink a soul except perhaps Jackson and that rascally overseer of ours,who afterward had a hand in carrying off your wife, and lost his life inconsequence, ever had a suspicion we had been doing more than a longfishing expedition. I will tell you all about it when we are goingthrough the woods. Now I think it's pretty nearly dead water, and wewill begin to edge across."
CHAPTER XX.
THE END OF THE STRUGGLE.
Vincent directed his course so that, while the boat's head was stillpointing up the stream, and she was apparently moving in the samedirection as the ships, she was gradually getting out to the middle ofthe river. Had he tried to row straight across, suspicion might at oncehave been excited. In half an hour they were in the middle of thestream. A vessel passing under full sail swept along at a distance of ahundred yards, and they were hailed. Vincent merely waved his hand andcontinued his course.
"I dare say those fellows wonder what we are up to, Tony; but they arenot likely to stop to inquire. In another quarter of an hour we shall bepretty safe. Ah! there's a fellow who might interfere with us," headded, looking round. "Do you see that little black thing two milesahead of us? That's a steam launch. If she sees us making over, she'slikely enough to come and ask us some questions. We had better head alittle more toward the shore now. If it comes to a race, every foot isof importance."
Up to now they had been rowing in an easy and leisurely manner, avoidingall appearance of haste. They now bent to their oars, and the boat beganto travel a good deal faster through the water. Vincent glanced over hisshoulder frequently at the steam launch.
"She is keeping straight on in the middle of the channel, Tony;evidently she hasn't noticed us yet."
Ten minutes after passing the ship he exclaimed sharply:
"Row, Tony, as hard as you can! The launch has just passed that ship,and has changed her course. I expect the captain has called theirattention to us. It's a race now."
The boat, at the moment the launch changed her course, was rather morethan halfway between the center of the channel and the shore. The launchwas in the center of the channel, and three-quarters of a mile higherup. She had evidently put on steam as she started to cut off the boat,for there was now a white wave at her bow.
"I think we shall do it, Tony," Vincent said. "I don't suppose she cango above eight miles an hour, and we are certainly going four, and shehas more than twice as far to travel as we have."
Those on board the launch were evidently conscious that they were likelyto lose the race, for in a few minutes they began to open fire withtheir rifles.
"Fire away!" Vincent said. "You aint likely to hit us a thousand yardsoff, and we haven't another three hundred to row."
The bullets whistled overhead, but none of them struck the water withinmany yards of the boat, and the launch was still four or five hundredyards away when the bow of the boat touched the shore. Several musketswere discharged, and Vincent and Tony leaped out and plunged into thebushes that came down to the water's edge. The launch sent up a sharpseries of whistles, and random shots were for some time fired into thebushes.
"It is lucky she didn't carry a small gun in her bows," Vincent said,"for though seven or eight hundred yards is a long range for a rifle,they might likely enough have hit us if they had had a gun. Now, Tony,we shall have to be careful, for those whistles are no doubt meant asan alarm; and although she cannot tell who we are, she will probablysteam up, and if they have any forces opposite Bermuda will give themnews that two suspicious characters have landed, and they will haveparties out to look for us."
"Dey can look as long as dey like, sah. Ef dose slave-hunters can't findpeople in de swamps what chance you tink dose soldiers have? None atall! Dey haven't got no reward before dere eyes, and dey won't want tobe going in ober dere shoes into the mud and dirting dere uniforms. Nofear ob dem, sah. Dey make as much noise when dey march in de wood as adrove ob pigs. You can hear dem a quarter ob a mile away."
They tramped on through the woods through which McClellan's force had sopainfully made their way during their first advance against Richmond.From time to time they could hear noises in the forest--shouts, and onceor twice the discharge of firearms.
"Dey call dat hunting, I s'pose," Tony said scornfully.
They kept steadily on until it began to grow dark in the forest. Theywere now in the White Oak Swamp and not eight miles from Richmond, andthey thought it better to pause until it became quite dark, for theymight be picked up by any raiding party of cavalry. Vincent was in highspirits. Now that he had succeeded in his enterprise, and had escapedalmost by a miracle, he was eager to get back to Richmond and carry hisnews down to General Lee. Tony was even more anxious to push on. Atlast, after three years' absence, he was to see his wife and childagain, and he reluctantly agreed to Vincent's proposal for a halt.
"We shan't stop very long, Tony; and I own I am waiting quite as muchbecause I am hungry and want to eat, and because I am desperately tired,as from any fear of the enemy. We walked twenty miles last night fromUnion Grove to the river; then I walked to the boat, back to the farm,and then back to the boat again--that's three more miles--and we havegone another twenty now. I am pretty nearly dead beat, I can tell you."
"I'se tired, too, sah; but I feel I could go on walking all night if Iwas to see Dinah in de morning."
"Well, I couldn't, Tony; not to see anyone. I might be willing enough,but my legs wouldn't take me."
They ate a hearty meal, and almost as soon as they had finished Vincentstood up again.
"Well, Tony, I can feel for your impatience, and so we'll struggle on. Ihave just been thinking that when I last left my mother, a week since,she said she was thinking of going out to the Orangery for a monthbefore the leaves fell, so it is probable that she may be there now. Itis only about the same distance as it is to Richmond, so we will gostraight there. I shall lose a little time, of course; but I can bedriven over to Richmond, so it won't be too much. Besides, I can put ona pair of slippers. That will be a comfort, for my feet feel as if theywere in vises. A cup of tea won't be a bad thing, too."
During their walk through the wood Vincent related the circumstances ofthe carrying away of Dinah, and of her rescue. When he had finished Tonysaid:
"Well, Massa Wingfield, I don't know what to say to you. I tought I owedyou enuff before, but it war nothing to dis. Just to tink dat you shouldtake all dat pains to fetch Dinah back for me! I dunno how it came toyou to do it. It seems to me like as if you been sent special fromheaben to do dis poor nigger good. Words aint no good, sah; but if Icould give my life away a hundred times for you I would do it."
It took them nearly three hours' walking before they came in sight ofthe Orangery.
"There are lights in the windows," Vincent said. "Thank goodness, theyare there!"
Vincent limped slowly along until he reached the house.
"You stay out here, Tony. I will send Dinah out to you directl
y. Itwill be better for her to meet you here alone."
Vincent walked straight into the drawing room, where his mother andAnnie were sitting.
"Why, Vincent!" Mrs. Wingfield exclaimed, starting up, "what hashappened to you? What are you dressed up like that for? Is anything thematter?"
"Nothing is the matter, mother, except that I am as tired as a dog. Yes,my dress is not quite fit for a drawing room," he laughed, looking downat the rough trousers, splashed with mud to the waist, and his flannelshirt, for they had not waited to pick up their coats as they left theboat; "but nothing is the matter, I can assure you. I will tell allabout it directly, but first please send for Dinah here."
Mrs. Wingfield rang the bell on the table beside her.
"Tell Dinah I want to speak to her at once," she said to the girl thatanswered it. Dinah appeared in a minute.
"Dinah," Vincent said, "has your boy gone to bed?"
"Yes, sah; been gone an hour ago."
"Well, just go to him, and put a shawl round him, and go out through thefront door. There is someone standing there you will be glad to see."
Dinah stood with open eyes, then her hands began to tremble.
"Is it Tony, sah; for de Lord's sake, is it Tony?"
Vincent nodded, and, with a little scream of joy, she turned and ranstraight to the front door. She could not wait now even to fetch herboy, and in another moment she was clasped in her husband's arms.
"Now, Vincent, tell us all about it," his mother said. "Don't you see weare dying of curiosity?"
"And I am dying of fatigue," Vincent said; "which is a much more painfulsort of death, and I can think of nothing else until I have got theseboots off. Annie, do run and tell them to bring me a pair of slippersand a cup of tea, and I shall want the buggy at the door in half anhour."
"You are not going away again to-night, Vincent, surely?" his mothersaid anxiously. "You do look completely exhausted."
"I am exhausted, mother. I have walked seven or eight and forty miles,and this cavalry work spoils one for walking altogether."
"Walked forty-eight miles, Vincent! What on earth have you done thatfor?"
"Not from choice, I can assure you, mother; but you know the old saying,'Needs must when the devil drives,' and in the present case you mustread 'Yankee' instead of 'the gentleman in black.'"
"But has Petersburg fallen?" Mrs. Wingfield asked in alarm.
"No; Petersburgh is safe, and is likely to continue so. But you mustreally be patient, mother, until I have had some tea, then you can hearthe story in full."
When the servant came in with the tea, Vincent told her that she was totell Dinah, whom she would find in the veranda, to bring her husbandinto the kitchen, and to give him everything he wanted. Then, as soon ashe had finished tea, he told his mother and sister the adventures he hadgone through. Both were crying when he had finished.
"I am proud of you, Vincent," his mother said. "It is hard on us thatyou should run such risks; still I do not blame you, my boy, for, if Ihad ten sons, I would give them all for my country."
Vincent had just finished his story when the servant came in and saidthat the buggy was at the door.
"I will go in my slippers, mother, but I will run up and change my otherthings. It's lucky I have got a spare suit here. Any of our fellows whohappened to be going down to-night in the train would think that I wasmad, were I to go like this."
It was one o'clock in the morning when Vincent reached Petersburg. Hewent straight to his quarters, as it would be no use waking General Leeat that hour. A light was burning in his room, and Dan was asleep atthe table with his head on his arms. He leaped up with a cry of joy ashis master entered.
"Well, Dan, here I am safe again," Vincent said cheerily. "I hope youhad not begun to give me up."
"I began to be terribly frightened, sir--terribly frightened. I went disafternoon and asked Captain Burley if he had any news ob you. He said'No'; and asked me ef I knew where you were. I said 'No, sah;' that Iknew nuffin about it except that you had gone on some dangerous job. Hesaid as dey had heard nuffin had happened to you. Still I was beryanxious, and tought I would sit up till de last train came in fromRichmond. Den I tink I dropped off to sleep."
"I think you did, Dan. Well, I am too tired to tell you anything aboutit now, but I have one piece of news for you: Tony has come back to hiswife."
"Dat's good news, sah; bery good news. I had begun to be afraid dat Tonyhad been shot or hung or someting. I know Dinah hab been fretting abouthim, though she neber said much, but when I am at home she allus asks meall sorts of questions 'bout him. She bery glad woman now."
The next morning Vincent went to General Lee's quarters.
"I am heartily glad to see you back," the general said warmly as heentered. "I have blamed myself for letting you go. Well, what successhave you had?"
"Here is a rough plan of the works, general. I have not had time to doit out fairly, but it shows the positions of all their principalbatteries, with a rough estimate as to the number of guns that each isintended to carry."
"Excellent!" the general said, glancing over the plan. "This will giveus exactly the information we want. We must set to with ourcounter-works at once. The country is indeed indebted to you, sir. Soyou managed to cheat the Yankees altogether?"
"I should have cheated them, sir; but, unfortunately, I came across anold acquaintance who denounced me, and I had a narrow escape of beingshot."
"Well, Captain Wingfield, I must see about this business and give ordersat once. Will you come and breakfast with me at half-past eight? Thenyou can give me an account of your adventures."
Vincent returned to his quarters, and spent the next two hours in makinga detailed drawing of the enemy's positions and batteries, and then, athalf-past eight, walked over to General Lee's quarters. The generalreturned in a few minutes with General Wade Hampton and several otherofficers, and they at once sat down to breakfast. As the meal wasproceeding an orderly entered with a telegram for the general. GeneralLee glanced through it.
"This, gentlemen, is from the minister of war. I acquainted him bytelegraph this morning that Captain Wingfield, who had volunteered forthe dangerous service, had just returned from the Federal lines with aplan of the positions and strength of all the works that they areerecting. I said that I trusted that such distinguished service as hehad rendered would be at once rewarded with promotion, and the ministertelegraphs to me now that he has this morning signed this youngofficer's commission as major. I heartily congratulate you, sir, on yourwell-earned step. And now, as I see you have finished your breakfast,perhaps you will give us an account of your proceedings."
Vincent gave a detailed account of his adventures, which were heard withsurprise and interest.
"That was a narrow escape indeed," the general said, as he finished. "Itwas a marvelous thing your lighting upon this negro, whom you say youhad once had an opportunity of serving, just at that moment; andalthough you do not tell us what was the nature of the service you hadrendered him, it must have been a very considerable service or he wouldnever have risked his life in that way to save yours. When these negroesdo feel attachment for their masters, there are no more faithful anddevoted fellows. Well, in your case certainly a good action has met withits reward; if it had not been for him there could be no question thatyour doom was sealed. It is a strange thing, too, your meeting thattraitor. I remember reading about that escape of yours from the Yankeeprison. He must have been an ungrateful villain, after your taking himwith you."
"He was a bad fellow altogether, I am afraid," Vincent said; "and thequarrel between us was a long-standing one."
"Whatever your quarrel was," the general said hotly, "a man who wouldbetray even an enemy to death in that way is a villain. However, he hasgone to his account, and the country can forgive his treachery to her,as I have no doubt you have already done his conduct toward yourself."
A short time afterward Vincent had leave for a week, as things werequiet at Petersburg.
"Mother," he said, on the morning after he got home, "I fear that thereis no doubt whatever now how this struggle will end. I think we mightkeep Grant at bay here, but Sherman is too strong for us down inGeorgia. We are already cut off from most of the Southern States, and intime Sherman will sweep round here, and then it will be all over. Yousee it yourself, don't you, mother?"
"Yes, I am afraid it cannot continue much longer, Vincent. Well, ofcourse, we shall fight to the end."
"I am not talking of giving up, mother; I am looking forward to thefuture. The first step will be that all the slaves will be freed. Now,it seems to me that, however attached they may be to their masters andmistresses, they will lose their heads over this, flock into the towns,and nearly starve there; or else take up little patches of land,cultivate them, and live from hand to mouth, which will be ruin to thepresent owners as well as to them. Anyhow, for a time all will beconfusion and disorder. Now, my idea is this: If you give all yourslaves their freedom at once, offer them patches of land for their owncultivation, and employ them for wages, you will find that a great manyof them will stop with you." There is nowhere for them to go at presentand nothing to excite them, so, before the general crash comes, theywill have settled down quietly to work here in their new positions, andwill not be likely to go away.
"It is a serious step to take, Vincent," Mrs. Wingfield said, afterthinking the matter over in silence for some time. "You do not thinkthere is any probability of the ultimate success of our cause?"
"None, mother; I do not think there is even a possibility. One by onethe Southern States have been wrested from the Confederacy. Sherman'smarch will completely isolate us. We have put our last available man inthe field, and tremendous as are the losses of the enemy they are ableto fill up the gaps as fast as they are made. No, mother, do not let usdeceive ourselves on that head. The end must come, and that before long.The slaves will unquestionably be freed, and the only question for us ishow to soften the blow. There is no doubt that our slaves, both at theOrangery and at the other plantations, are contented and happy; but youknow how fickle and easily led the negroes are, and in the excitement offinding themselves free and able to go where they please, you may besure that the greater number will wander away. My proposal is that weshould at once mark out a plot of land for each family, and tell themthat as long as they stay here it is theirs, rent free; they will bepaid for their work upon the estates, three, four, or five days a week,as they can spare time from their own plots. In this way they will besettled down, and have crops upon their plots of land, before the wholeblack population is upset by the sudden abolition of slavery."
"But suppose they won't work at all, even for wages, Vincent?"
"I should not give them the option, mother; it will be a condition oftheir having their plots of land free that they shall work at leastthree days a week for wages."
"I will think over what you say, Vincent, and tell you my decision inthe morning. I certainly think your plan is a good one."
The next morning Mrs. Wingfield told Vincent that she had decided toadopt his plan. He at once held a long consultation with the overseer,and decided which fields should be set aside for the allotments,choosing land close to the negroes' quarters and suitable for theraising of vegetables for sale in the town.
In the afternoon Mrs. Wingfield went down with him. The bell was rungand the whole of the slaves assembled. Vincent then made them a speech.He began by reminding them of the kind treatment they had alwaysreceived, and of the good feeling that had existed between the owners ofthe Orangery and their slaves. He praised them for their good conductsince the beginning of the troubles, and said that his mother andhimself had agreed that they would now take steps to reward them, and tostrengthen the tie between them. They would all be granted their freedomat once, and a large plot of land would be given to each man, as much ashe and his family could cultivate with an average of two days a weeksteady labor.
Those who liked would, of course, be at liberty to leave; but he hopedthat none of them would avail themselves of this freedom, for nowherewould they do so well as by accepting the offer he made them. All whoaccepted the offer of a plot of land, rent free, must understand that itwas granted them upon the condition that they would labor upon theestate for at least three days a week, receiving a rate of pay similarto that earned by other freed negroes. Of course they would be atliberty to work four or five days a week if they chose; but at leastthey must work three days, and anyone failing to do this would forfeithis plot of land. "Three days' work," he said, "will be sufficient toprovide all necessaries for yourselves and families, and the produce ofyour land you can sell, and will so be able to lay by an ample sum tokeep yourselves in old age. I have already plotted out the land, and youshall cast lots for choice of the plots. There will be a little delaybefore all your papers of freedom can be made out, but the arrangementwill begin from to-day, and henceforth you will be paid for all labordone on the estate."
Scarcely a word was spoken when Vincent concluded. The news was toosurprising to the negroes for them to be able to understand it all atonce. Dan and Tony, to whom Vincent had already explained the matter,went among them, and they gradually took in the whole of Vincent'smeaning. A few received the news with great joy, but many others weredepressed rather than rejoiced at the responsibilities of their newpositions. Hitherto they had been clothed and fed, the doctor attendedthem in sickness, their master would care for them in old age. They hadbeen literally without a care for the morrow, and the thought that, inthe future, they would have to think of all these things for themselvesalmost frightened them. Several of the older men went up to Mrs.Wingfield and positively declined to accept their freedom. They werequite contented and happy, and wanted nothing more. They had worked onthe plantation since they had been children, and freedom offered them notemptations whatever.
"What had we better do, Vincent?" Mrs. Wingfield asked.
"I think, mother, it will be best to tell them that all who wish canremain upon the old footing, but that their papers will be made out, andif, at any time, they wish to have their freedom they will only have tosay so. No doubt they will soon become accustomed to the idea, and,seeing how comfortable the others are with their pay and the produce oftheir gardens, they would soon fall in with the rest. Of course it willdecrease the income from the estate, but not so much as you would think.They will be paid for their labor, but we shall have neither to feed norclothe them; and I think we shall get better labor than we do now, forthe knowledge that those who do not work steadily will lose their plotsof land and have to go out in the world to work, their places beingfilled by others, will keep them steady."
"It's an experiment, Vincent, and we shall see how it works."
"It's an experiment I have often thought I should like to make, mother,and now, you see, it is almost forced upon us. To-morrow I will rideover to the other plantations and make the same arrangements."
During the month of August many battles took place round Petersburg. Onthe 12th the Federals attacked, but were repulsed with heavy loss, and2500 prisoners were taken. On the 21st the Confederates attacked, andobtained a certain amount of success, killing, wounding, and capturing2400 men. Petersburg was shelled day and night, and almost continuousfighting went on. Nevertheless, up to the middle of October thepositions of the armies remained unaltered. On the 27th of that monththe Federals made another general attack, but were repulsed with a lossof 1500 men. During the next three months there was little fighting, theConfederates having now so strengthened their lines by incessant toilthat even General Grant, reckless of the lives of his troops as he was,hesitated to renew the assault.
But in the South General Sherman was carrying all before him. GeneralsHood and Johnston, who commanded the Confederate armies there, hadfought several desperate battles, but the forces opposed to them weretoo strong to be driven back. They had marched through Georgia toAtlanta and captured that important town on the 1st of September, andobtained command of the network of railways, and
thus cut off a largeportion of the Confederacy from Richmond. Then Sherman marched south,wasting the country through which he marched, and capturing Savannah onthe 21st of September.
While he was so doing, General Hood had marched into Tennessee, andafter various petty successes, was defeated, after two days' hardfighting, near Nashville. In the third week in January, 1865, Shermanset out with 60,000 infantry and 10,000 cavalry from Savannah, layingwaste the whole country--burning, pillaging, and destroying. The town ofColumbia was occupied, sacked, and burned, the white men and women andeven the negroes being horribly ill-treated.
The Confederates evacuated Charleston at the approach of the enemy,setting it in flames rather than allow it to fall into Sherman's hands.The Federal army then continued its devastating route through SouthCarolina, and at the end of March had established itself at Goldsboro,in North Carolina, and was in readiness to aid Grant in his final attackon Richmond.
Lee, seeing the imminence of the danger, made an attack upon the enemyin front of Petersburg, but was repulsed. He had now but 37,000 men withwhich to oppose an enemy of nearly four times that strength in front ofhim, while Sheridan's cavalry, 10,000 strong, threatened his flank, andSherman with his army was but a few days' march distant. There wasfierce fighting on the 29th, 30th, and 31st of March, and on the 2d ofApril the whole Federal army assaulted the positions at Petersburg, andafter desperate fighting succeeded in carrying them. The Confederatetroops, outnumbered and exhausted as they were by the previous week'smarching and fighting, yet retained their discipline, and Lee drew offwith 20,000 men and marched to endeavor to effect a junction withJohnston, who was still facing Sherman.
But his men had but one day's provisions with them. The stores that hehad ordered to await them at the point to which he directed his marchhad not arrived there when they reached it, and, harassed at every footof their march by Sheridan's cavalry and Ord's infantry, the forcefought its way on. The horses and mules were so weak from want of foodthat they were unable to drag the guns, and the men dropped in numbersfrom fatigue and famine. Sheridan and Ord cut off two corps, but GeneralLee, with but 8000 infantry and 2000 cavalry, still pressed forwardtoward Lynchburg. But Sheridan threw himself in the way, and, findingthat no more could be done, General Lee and the infantry surrendered anda few days later Generals Lee and Grant met and signed terms of peace.General Johnston's army surrendered to General Sherman, and the longand desperate struggle was at an end.
It was a dreadful day in Richmond when the news came that the lines ofPetersburg were forced, and that General Lee no longer stood between thecity and the invaders. The President and ministers left at once, andwere followed by all the better class of inhabitants who could findmeans of conveyance. The negroes and some of the lower classes at onceset to work to pillage and burn, and the whole city would have beendestroyed had not a Federal force arrived and at once suppressed therioting.
Whatever had been the conduct of the Federal troops during the last yearof the war, however great suffering they had inflicted upon the unarmedand innocent population of the country through which they marched, theterms of peace that General Grant agreed upon, and which were, althoughwith some reluctance, ratified by the government, were in the highestdegree liberal and generous. No one was to be injured or molested forthe share he had taken in the war. A general amnesty was granted to all,and the States were simply to return to the position in the Union thatthey occupied previous to the commencement of the struggle.
More liberal terms were never granted by a conqueror to the vanquished.
Vincent was with the cavalry who escaped prior to Lee's surrender, butas soon as the terms of peace were ratified the force was disbanded andhe returned home. He was received with the deepest joy by his mother andsister.
"Thank God, my dear boy, that all is over, and you have been preservedto us. We are beaten, but no one can say that we are disgraced. Hadevery State done its duty as Virginia has we should never have beenoverpowered. It has been a terrible four years, and there are fewfamilies indeed that have no losses to mourn."
"It was well you were not in Richmond, mother, the day of the riots."
"Yes; but we had our trouble here, too, Vincent. A number of the slavesfrom the plantations came along this way, and wanted our hands to jointhem to burn down their quarters and the house, and to march toRichmond. Tony and Dan, hearing of their approach, armed themselves withyour double-barreled guns, went down and called out the hands, and armedthem with hoes and other implements. When the negroes came up there wasa desperate quarrel, but our hands stood firm, and Tony and Dan declaredthat they would shoot the first four men that advanced, and at last theydrew off and made their way to Richmond.
"Your plan has succeeded admirably. One or two of the hands went toRichmond next day, but returned a day or two afterward and begged sohard to be taken on again that I forgave them. Since then everything hasbeen going on as quietly and regularly as usual, while there is scarcelya man left on any of the estates near."
"And now, mother, that I find things are quiet and settled here, I shallgo down to Georgia and fetch Lucy home. I shall be of age in a fewmonths, and the house on the estate that comes to me then can beenlarged, and will do very well."
"Not at all, Vincent. Annie will be married next month. Herbert Rowsellwas here two days ago, and it's all settled. So I shall be alone here.It will be very lonely and dull for me, Vincent, and I would rather giveup the reins of government to Lucy and live here with you, if you likethe plan."
"Certainly, I should like it, mother; and so, I am sure, would Lucy."
"Well, at any rate, Vincent, we will try the experiment, and if it doesnot work well I will take possession of the other house."
"There is no fear of that, mother--none whatever."
"And when are you thinking of getting married, Vincent?"
"At once, mother. I wrote to Lucy the day we were disbanded, saying thatI should come in a week, and would allow another week and no longer forher to get ready."
"Then, in that case, Vincent, Annie and I will go down with you. Anniewill not have much to do to get ready for her own wedding. It must, ofcourse, be a very quiet one, and there will be no array of dresses toget; for I suppose it will be some time yet before the railways are openagain and things begin to come down from the North."
Happily Antioch had escaped the ravages of war, and there was nothing tomar the happiness of the wedding. Lucy's father had returned, havinglost a leg in one of the battles of the Wilderness a year before, andher brother had also escaped. After the wedding they returned to theirfarm in Tennessee, and Mrs. Wingfield, Annie, Vincent, and Lucy went backto the Orangery.
For the next three or four years times were very hard in Virginia, andMrs. Wingfield had to draw upon her savings to keep up the house in itsformer state; while the great majority of the planters were utterlyruined. The negroes, however, for the most part remained steadilyworking on the estate. A few wandered away, but their places were easilyfilled; for the majority of the freed slaves very soon discovered thattheir lot was a far harder one than it had been before, and that freedomso suddenly given was a curse rather than a blessing to them.
Thus, while so many went down, the Wingfields weathered the storm, andthe step that had been taken in preparing their hands for the generalabolition of slavery was a complete success.
With the gradual return of prosperity to the South the prices of produceimproved, and ten years after the conclusion of the rebellion the incomeof the Orangery was nearly as large as it had been previous to itsoutbreak. Vincent, two years after the conclusion of the struggle, tookhis wife over to visit his relations in England, and, since the death ofhis mother, in 1879, has every year spent three or four months at home,and will not improbably, ere long sell his estates in Virginia andsettle here altogether.
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