Free Novel Read

A Lieutenant at Eighteen Page 16


  CHAPTER XIII

  A NIGHT IN A JAIL AT JAMESTOWN

  Lieutenant Ripley returned from the conference with the riflemen, andreported that thirty of them were willing to enlist in such anorganization as that proposed; the others were unable to reply untilthey had been home to their families. The lieutenant was confident thathe could raise the sixty proposed as a beginning within a reasonabletime, and the colonel had a similar confidence in the patriotism of theloyal Kentuckians in that part of the State.

  The men had finished their dinners, the prisoners had been paroled withthe approval of Major Lyon, who was beginning to be in a hurry to marchback to Jamestown as soon as the first company had rested from the hardwork of the day; and there had been much more of it than could beindicated in the narrative of the principal events.

  "I am sorry that we cannot take with us even a small company of thoseriflemen, for I think they would be very useful in the course of a fewdays," said Captain Gordon, after the major had given the order to formthe column for the march. "It is plain to everybody who knows anythingabout the movements of the army that there will be a battle within aweek."

  This statement seemed to fire the enthusiasm of the old lieutenant ofthe Home Guards, and he talked apart with Colonel Halliburn veryearnestly for some time. Then he went over to the riflemen, who hadmounted their horses in readiness to return to their homes. He appearedto have proposed something to them, and in a few minutes he hastenedback to the group of officers.

  "Thirty-six of the riflemen desire to go with you as temporaryvolunteers for immediate service," said Ripley. "Will you accept them,Major Lyon?"

  "I will, though I cannot take them as a part of my squadron, for ourranks are now very full," replied the commander.

  "I meant to have them go as an addition to your force, to be under yourcommand," replied the lieutenant.

  "Of course there can be no objection to your going with us in thismanner, and you will bring up the rear of my command," added MajorLyon, as the orderly sergeants reported that the companies were formed.

  The officers took their proper places, and the order to march was givento the captains. Life Knox and Milton were again ordered to scout theroad and its adjacent fields in advance. The wagons were ready to fallin behind the riflemen, and the column moved. The company officers keptin their places, but the major went where he pleased along the line.When the column reached the foot of the hill, he fell back to thesecond platoon of the first company, where Deck was riding on the leftof the first section.

  "I was so busy that I neglected to ask the names of the men who werekilled in the action where you met the enemy on the road fromColumbia," said the major, as he wheeled his horse, and took his placeby the side of his son.

  Deck had noticed that he had asked no questions when the report of thekilled was given to him; for something had called his attention awayfrom the subject at that moment. The lieutenant was glad to escape thenecessity in that presence of informing his father of the death of hiscousin; for this was a family matter, aside from military routine.

  "I was glad you did not ask that question then," added Deck.

  "I understand you, Dexter; for when I saw Sandy in the ranks I lookedfor Orly Lyon; but I did not see him. Was he badly wounded?" inquiredthe commander.

  "Worse than that, for he was killed in the action. He fought bravely,and he always did his duty faithfully; for, however it was with hisfather and his brother, Orly's heart was in the work," replied Deckwith no little feeling.

  The major was silent for a moment. It was evident that he was moved bythe news, though he always controlled himself; for the fact that histwo sons and two nephews were liable at any time to be struck down intheir youth was present to his mind when he had time to think of suchthings. Orly was only sixteen, and he was the first of either his ownor his brother's family to pass over to the other shore.

  "I am more sorry for his father and mother than for him; for he died indefence of his country, and that is the death of the hero and patriot.It will be a heavy blow to his poor mother; and, unlike her husband,her heart was on the right side. She told me when her boys enlisted inthe Home Guard, a Secessionist body, that it broke her heart to haveher sons fight with the enemies of her country, but that she could beeven willing to have them sacrificed on the right side."

  "Do you know where Uncle Titus is now, father?" asked Deck.

  "He is in a prison-camp, the name of which I have in my valise in oneof the wagons. I shall write to him as soon as I have time, and to yourAunt Meely."

  In another hour the head of the column arrived in the midst of apouring rain at Jamestown, which is the capital of Russell County. Itwas the 17th of January. It had been clear in the morning; but the rainbegan to fall not a quarter of an hour before the column reached thetown. It was almost a deluge, and it was likely to continue into thenight. The Secessionist element was predominant in the place; but themajor took forcible possession of a number of buildings which wouldafford shelter to his troopers and their horses.

  He found several Unionists, who gave him all the information he neededin regard to buildings, and he put some who attempted to prevent himfrom occupying the buildings under arrest. The county prison was one ofthe structures occupied; and the prisoners were confined in it, withtroopers enough lodging there to keep them in order.

  "You'll catch fits when you fall in with Old Zollicoffer," said one ofthe prisoners, as Life Knox, who was in charge of the jail, locked himinto the cell with half a dozen others.

  "We uns 'll be very glad to see Old Zolly, and I reckon we shall payhim a visit afore many days," replied the sergeant.

  "If you do, you uns 'll git wiped out," added the man.

  "Mebbe we shall do the wiping," said Life, as the keeper of the prisoncame up to him.

  "I reckon I needn't stop here no longer," said he. "But I'll show you aroom before I go, where you can sleep in a bed. It's where I sleep,though I hain't got no prisoners in the jug just now. There ain't muchcivil law afloat around here; and a Secesh man can kill a Union man,and nothing said about it."

  "I'm much obleeged to you; and I consayt that you ain't much of aSecesh yourself," answered Life, as his conductor unlocked a door nearthe entrance to the jail.

  "I reckon I ain't," replied the keeper as he led the way into the roomand closed the door after him; "but it don't do for me to say muchabout it here. Them fellers you brought in here would hang me to thefirst tree they found if they knowed it."

  The apartment was not a cell. It contained a bed and some furniture,and the sergeant thought he could be very comfortable in it tillmorning.

  "Which way did your troopers come from, Sergeant?" asked the keeper.

  "From the west. We left Millersville this morning," answered Life.

  "We had a company of Cornfeds in town last night, and they started forMillersville this mornin'. I reckon you hain't seen nothin' on 'em,have you?" continued the keeper, as he seated himself on the bed whilethe sergeant occupied the only chair in the room.

  "Cornfeds is good," laughed Life; "but I cal'late they don't get muchof that sort of feed just now."

  "Then I reckon you hain't seen 'em."

  "I reckon that we uns have seen 'em; and I reckon them Cornfeds wishjust now that we hadn't seen 'em."

  "Did you meet 'em?"

  "I'll bet we did, about five miles from here; and about one-third on'em got killed before they surrendered."

  "Surrendered!" exclaimed the keeper. "I thought, when I heerd 'em talk,that no Cornfeds ever did anything o' that sort."

  "They got badly chawed up, and they couldn't help theirselves; that'sthe whole on't. Is there any news floatin' about round here?" askedLife.

  "I reckon there is, lots on't. If Thomas ain't already camped roundhere somewhere, he ain't fur off. They say he's waiting for somegeneral's brigade to jine 'im afore he goes for Old Zolly'sentrenchments," replied the keeper, whose name was Butters, as thesergeant learned from him later.

  "I reckon o
ur major will find out where he is," added Life.

  "This town is about fifteen miles from Mill Springs; and I consayt thatthere will be a bigger battle than we have had in these parts, oranywhere in the State, before long. General Thomas is sent down here toclean out Old Zolly, and I reckon he'll do it," replied Butters. "Iwish I could have a hand in it."

  "So you kin if you are so minded. You don't seem to have nothin' to dohere now. Ever been in the mili'try?"

  "No; but I kin shoot a rifle nigh on to as good as old Ripley over toMillersville, and he can beat any other man at it in Kaintuck."

  "Ripley is here with a party of his riflemen, and I cal'late he'll takeyou into his company if you want to go."

  "Where is he now? I'd like to see him, for I've often been over to hisplace to shoot with him," said Butters.

  "He bunks in the jail with some of his company."

  "I know a dozen others here who are in the same boat with me; and twomore on us were hanged a month ago for shooting a Cornfed sergeant forkilling two good Union men."

  "I'll find Ripley for you," said Life, as he left the room, intent uponadding more men to the loyal army.

  He went through the jail, calling the name of the lieutenant till hefound him, and then conducted him to the room of the keeper. Ripleygave his hand to Butters, and was very glad to see him. The bed waswide enough for two, and Life invited the lieutenant to sleep with him.

  "No; I reckon I'll take Lieutenant Ripley up to my house, for he's anold friend of mine," interposed Butters; "and he's the only man thatcan ever beat me shootin' with a rifle. I'm ready to jine for thiscampaign under him."

  "I have thirty-six men now, serving for a short time till we get thingssettled, and I should like enough to make up a hundred," repliedRipley, as he left the prison with Butters.

  He had not been gone ten minutes before Lieutenant Lyon came in. Thesentinel on duty showed him Life's room. The visitor was wet to hisbones, as the French say; for he had been looking up some Union men hisfather wished to see, and he had brought them to the hotel where theofficers were quartered. One of them was a captain, and another was hishost in the town; and the major had been directed to report to theformer.

  Deck had been sent out to find him; for it was reported that he was inJamestown, and not in Harrison, where he had expected to find him, buthad not. His room had been taken from him for this officer, as he wasthe lowest in rank of any commissioned officer. His father had senthim out with directions to take a couple of men from the quarters ofLieutenant Belthorpe, who was the officer of the day, and find a roomwhere he could in the town. But he knew that Life Knox was in commandat the jail, and he preferred to go there.

  "You are wet to the skin, Leftenant!" exclaimed the sergeant, as headmitted him to the room.

  "Not the first time I have been so since we left Riverlawn," repliedDeck. "You have got a good room here, Life."

  "Good enough; but I cal'late to camp on the floor, and give this bed toyou, Leftenant."

  "Not at all, Life; the bed is big enough for both of us. I am notafraid to sleep with you, if you are not with me."

  "'Tain't quite reg'lar; but it's just as you say, Leftenant."

  There was a fireplace in the room, and a pile of wood in the corner;and the sergeant went to work at once to build a fire to dry hisofficer. There was plenty of light wood, full of pitch, in the pile;and in a few minutes a roaring fire was blazing on the hearth. Withoutasking any questions he proceeded to remove Deck's coat, and assistedhim to take off the rest of his clothes, which had not been done beforeexcept when he took his baths in the streams.

  "Now jump into bed, Leftenant; give me your shirt, and I will dry thewhole of your duds. The room is warm now."

  Deck had been so chilled by the rain that he was glad to comply withthe sergeant's requests. Life placed the nether garments on the chairbefore the fire, and then moved up a light table, stretching his sabrefrom one to the other to form a clothes-horse. At midnight he waked hisofficer to have him put on the dry shirt, for Deck in the bed had sleptlike a tired boy. After a look through the corridors of the prison,Life went to bed himself.