Red, White, Blue Socks. Part Second / Being the Second Book of the Series

CHAPTER III. BEFORE MONTEREY.

It is not necessary to describe the particular proceedings of the Dashahed Zouaves during every day of their camp life. They chattered, played, drilled, quarrelled a little once in a while, and made it up again, eat and slept considerably, and grew sunburnt to an astonishing degree.

It was Thursday morning, the fourth of their delightful days in camp. Jerry had been teaching them how to handle a musket and charge bayonets, until they were quite excited, and rather put out that there was no enemy to practise on but the grasshoppers. At length, when they had tried everything that was to be done, Harry exclaimed, "I wish, Jerry, you would tell us a story about the wars! Something real splendid, now; perfectly crammed with Indians and scalps and awful battles and elegant Mexican palaces full of diamonds and gold saucepans and lovely Spanish girls carried off by the hair of their heads!"

This flourishing rigmarole, which Harry delivered regardless of stops, made the boys shout with laughter.

"You'd better tell the story yourself, since you know so much about it!" said Tom.

"I allow you've never been in Mexico, sir," said Jerry, grinning. "I doubt but thar's palisses somewhar in Mexico, but I and my mates hev been thar, an' we never seed none o' 'em. No, Master Harry, I can't tell ye sich stories as that, but I do mind a thing what happened on the field afore Monterey."

The boys, delightedly exclaiming, "A story! a story! hurrah!" drew their camp stools around him; and Jerry, after slowly rubbing his hand round and round over his bristling chin, while he considered what to say first, began his story as follows:

JERRY'S STORY.

"It wor a Sunday night, young genl'men, the 21st of September, and powerful hot. We had been fightin' like mad, wi' not a moment's rest, all day, an' now at last wor under the canwas, they of us as wor left alive, a tryin' to sleep. The skeeters buzzed aroun' wonderful thick, and the groun' aneath our feet wor like red-hot tin plates, wi' the sun burnin' an blisterin' down. At last my mate Bill says, says he, 'Jerry, my mate, hang me ef I can stan' this any longer. Let you an' me get up an' see ef it be cooler out-o'-doors.'

"I wor tired enough wi' the day's fight, an' worrited, too, wi' a wound in my shoulder; but the tent wor no better nor the open field, an' we got up an' went out. Thar wor no moon, but the sky was wonderful full o' stars, so we could see how we wor stannin' wi' our feet among the bodies o' the poor fellows as had fired their last shot that day. It wor a sight, young genl'men, what would make sich as you sick an' faint to look on; but sogers must larn not to min' it; an' we stood thar, not thinkin' how awful it wor, and yet still an' quiet, too.

"'Ah, Jerry,' says Bill—he wor a young lad, an' brought up by a pious mother, I allow—'I dunnot like this fightin' on the Sabba' day. The Lord will not bless our arms, I'm afeard, if we go agin His will so.'

"I laughed—more shame to me—an' said, 'I'm a sight older nor you, mate, an' I've seed a sight o' wictories got on a Sunday. The better the day, the better the deed, I reckon.'

"'Well, I don't know,' he says; 'mebbe things is allers mixed in time o' war, an' right an' wrong change sides a' purpose to suit them as wants battle an' tumult to be ragin'; but it don't go wi' my grain, noways.'

"I hadn't experienced a change o' heart then, as I did arterward, bless the Lord! an' I hardly unnerstood what he said. While we wor a stannin' there, all to onct too dark figgers kim a creepin' over the field to'ard the Major's tent. 'Look thar, Jerry,' whispered Bill, kind o' startin' like, 'thar's some of them rascally Mexicans.' I looked at 'em wi'out sayin' a wured, an' then I went back to the tent fur my six-shooter—Bill arter me;—fur ef it ain't the dooty o' every Christian to extarminate them warmints o' Mexicans, I'll be drummed out of the army to-morrer.

"Wall, young genl'men—we tuck our pistols, and slow and quiet we moved to whar we seed the two Greasers, as they call 'em. On they kim, creepin' to'ard my Major's tent, an' at las' one o' 'em raised the canwas a bit. Bill levelled his rewolver in a wink, an' fired. You shud ha' seed how they tuck to their heels! yelling all the way, till wun o' em' dropped. The other didn't stop, but just pulled ahead. I fired arter him wi'out touching him; but the noise woke the Major, an' when he hearn wot the matter wor, he ordered the alarm to be sounded an' the men turned out. 'It's a 'buscade to catch us,' he says, 'an' I'm fur being fust on the field.'

"Bill an' I buckled on our cartridge boxes, caught up our muskets, an' were soon in the ranks. On we marched, stiddy an' swift, to the enemy's fortifications; an' wen we were six hundred yards distant, kim the command, 'Double quick.' The sky hed clouded up all of a suddent, an' we couldn't see well where we wor, but thar was suthin' afore us like a low, black wall. As we kim nearer, it moved kind o' cautious like, an' when we wor within musket range, wi' a roar like ten thousand divils, they charged forred! Thar wor the flash and crack o' powder, and the ring! ping! o' the bullets, as we power'd our shot on them an' they on us; but not another soun'; cr-r-r-ack went the muskets on every side agin, an' the rascals wor driven back a minnit. 'Charge bayonets!' shouted the Major, wen he seed that. Thar wos a pause; a rush forred; we wor met by the innimy half way; an' then I hearn the awfullest o' created soun's—a man's scream. I looked roun', an' there wos Bill, lying on his face, struck through an' through. Thar wos no time to see to him then, fur the men wor fur ahead o' me, an' I hed to run an' jine the rest.

"We hed a sharp, quick skirmish o' it—for ef thar is a cowardly critter on the created airth it's a Greaser—an' in less nor half an' hour wor beatin' back to quarters. When all wor quiet agin, I left my tent, an' away to look fur Bill. I sarched an' sarched till my heart were almost broke, an at last I cried out, 'Oh Bill, my mate, whar be you?' an' I hearn a fibble v'ice say, 'Here I be, Jerry!'

"I swon! I wor gladder nor anything wen I hearn that. I hugged him to my heart, I wor moved so powerful, an' then I tuck him on my back, an' off to camp; werry slow an' patient, fur he were sore wownded, an' the life in him wery low.

"Wall, young genl'men, I'll not weary you wi' the long hours as dragged by afore mornin'. I med him as snug as I could, and at daybreak we hed him took to the sugeon's tent.

"I wor on guard all that mornin' an' could not get to my lad; but at last the relief kim roun', an' the man as was to take my place says, says he, 'Jerry, my mate, ef I was you I'd go right to the hosp'tl an' stay by poor Bill' (fur they all knew as I sot gret store by him); 'He is werry wild in his head, I hearn, an' the sugeon says as how he can't last long.'

"Ye may b'lieve how my hairt jumped wen I hearn that. I laid down my gun, an' ran fur the wooden shed, which were all the place they hed fur them as was wownded. An' thar wor Bill—my mate Bill—laying on a blanket spred on the floore, wi' his clothes all on (fur it's a hard bed, an' his own bloody uniform, that a sojer must die in), wi' the corpse o' another poor fellow as had died all alone in the night a'most touching him, an' slopped wi' blood. I moved it fur away all in a trimble o' sorrer, an' kivered it decent like, so as Bill mightn't see it an' get downhearted fur hisself. Then I went an' sot down aside my mate. He didn't know me, no more nor if I wor a stranger; but kept throwin' his arms about, an' moanin' out continual, 'Oh mother! mother! Why don't you come to your boy?'

"I bust right out crying, I do own, wen I hearn that, an' takin' his han' in mine, I tried to quiet him down a bit; telling him it wor bad fur his wownd to be so res'less (fur every time he tossed, thar kim a little leap o' blood from his breast); an' at last, about foore o'clock in the day, he opened his eyes quite sensible like, an' says to me, he says, 'Dear matey, is that you? Thank you fur coming to see me afore I die.'

"'No, Bill, don't talk so,' I says, a strivin' to be cheerful like, tho' I seed death in his face, 'You'll be well afore long.'

"'Aye, well in heaven,' he says; and then, arter a minnit, 'Jerry,' he says, 'thar's a little bounty money as belongs to me in my knapsack, an' my month's wages. I want you, wen I am gone, to take it to my mother, an' tell her—'(he wor gaspin' fearful)—'as I died—fightin' fur my country—an' the flag. God bless you, Jerry—you hev been a good frien' to me, an' I knows as you'll do this—an' bid the boys good-by—fur me.'

"I promised, wi' the tears streamin' down my cheeks; an' then we wor quiet a bit, fur it hurt Bill's breast to talk, an' I could not say a wured fur the choke in my throat. Arter a while he says, 'Jerry, won't you sing me the hymn as I taught you aboard the transport? about the Lord our Captin?'

"I could hardly find v'ice to begin, but it wor Bill's dying wish, an' I made shift to sing as well as I could—

"'We air marchin' on together
To our etarnal rest;
Niver askin' why we're ordered—
For the Lord He knoweth best.
Christ is our Captain!
'Forred!' is His word;
Ranks all steady, muskets ready,
In the army o' the Lord!
"'Satan's hosts are all aroun' us,
An' strive to enter in;
But our outworks they are stronger
Nor the dark brigades o' sin!
Christ is our Fortress!
Righteousness our sword;
Truth the standard—in the vanguard—
O' the army o' the Lord!
"'Comrads, we air ever fightin'
A battle fur the right;
Ever on the on'ard movement
Fur our home o' peace an' light.
Christ is our Leader!
Heaven our reward,
Comin' nearer, shinin' clearer—
In the army o' the Lord!'

"Arter I hed sung the hymn—an' it wor all I could do to get through—Bill seemed to be a sight easier. He lay still, smilin' like a child on the mother's breast. Pretty soon arter, the Major kim in; an' wen he seed Bill lookin' so peaceful, he says, says he, 'Why, cheer up, my lad! the sugeon sayd as how you wor in a bad way; but you look finely now;'—fur he didn't know it wor the death look coming over him. 'You'll be about soon,' says the Major, 'an' fightin' fur the flag as brave as ever,'

"Bill didn't say nothing—he seemed to be getting wild agin;—an' looked stupid like at our Major till he hearn the wureds about the flag. Then he caught his breath suddint like, an', afore we could stop him, he had sprang to his feet—shakin' to an' fro like a reed—but as straight as he ever wor on parade; an', his v'ice all hoarse an' full o' death, an' his arm in the air, he shouted, 'Aye! God—bless—the—flag! we'll fight fur it till—' an' then we hearn a sort o' snap, an' he fell forred—dead!

"We buried him that night, I an' my mates. I cut off a lock o' his hair fur his poor mother, afore we put the airth over him; an' giv it to her, wi' poor Bill's money, faithful an' true, wen we kim home. I've lived to be an old man since then, an' see the Major go afore me, as I hoped to sarve till my dyin' day; but Lord willing I shel go next, to win the Salwation as I've fitten for, by Bill's side, a sojer in Christ's army, in the Etarnal Jerusalem!"

The boys took a long breath when Jerry had finished his story, and more than one bright eye was filled with tears. The rough words, and plain, unpolished manner of the old soldier, only heightened the impression made by his story; and as he rose to go away, evidently much moved by the painful recollections it excited, there was a hearty, "Thank you, sergeant, for your story—it was real good!" Jerry only touched his cap to the young soldiers, and marched off hastily, while the boys looked after him in respectful silence. But young spirits soon recover from gloomy influences, and in a few moments they were all chattering merrily again.

"What a pity we must go home Monday!" cried Louie; "I wish we could camp out forever! Oh, Freddy, do write a letter to General McClellan, and ask him to let us join the army right away! Tell him we'll buy some new india-rubber back-bones and stretch ourselves out big directly, if he'll only send right on for us!"

"Perhaps he would, if he knew how jolly we can drill already!" said Peter, laughing. "I tell you what, boys, the very thing! let's have a review before we go home. I'll ask all the boys and girls I know to come and look on, and we might have quite a grand entertainment. Won't that be splendid? We can march about all over, and fire off the cannons and everything! I'm sure father will let us."

"Yes, but how's General McClellan to hear anything about it?" inquired practical Louie.

"Why—I don't know," said Peter, rather taken aback by this view of the subject. "Well, somehow—never mind, it will be grand fun, and I mean to ask my father right away."

"Take me with you?" called a dozen fellows directly. Finally it was concluded that it might make more impression on Mr. Schermerhorn's mind, if the application came from the regiment in a body; so, running for their swords and guns, officers and men found their places in the battalion, and the grand procession started on its way—chattering all the time, in utter defiance of that "article of war" which forbids "talking in the ranks." Just as they were passing the lake, they heard carriage wheels crunching on the gravel, and drew up in a long line on the other side of the road to let the vehicle pass them; much to the astonishment of two pretty young ladies and a sweet little girl, about Freddy's age, who were leaning comfortably back in the handsome barouche.

"Why, Peter!" exclaimed one of the ladies, "what in the world is all this?"

"This!" cried Peter, running up to the carriage, "why, these are the Dashahed Zouaves, Miss Carlton. We have been in camp ever since Monday. Good morning, Miss Jessie," to the little girl on the front seat, who was looking on with deep interest.

"Oh, to be sure, I remember," said Miss Carlton, laughing; "come, introduce the Zouaves, Peter; we are wild to know them!"

The boys clustered eagerly about the carriage and a lively chat took place. The Zouaves, some blushing and bashful, others frank and confident, and all desperately in love already with pretty little Jessie, related in high glee their adventures—except the celebrated court martial—and enlarged glowingly upon the all-important subject of the grand review.

Colonel Freddy, of course, played a prominent part in all this, and with his handsome face, bright eyes, and frank, gentlemanly ways, needed only those poor lost curls to be a perfect picture of a soldier. He chattered away with Miss Lucy, the second sister, and obtained her special promise that she would plead their cause with Mr. Schermerhorn in case the united petitions of the corps should fail. The young ladies did not know of Mrs. Schermerhorn's departure, but Freddy and Peter together coaxed them to come up to the house "anyhow." The carriage was accordingly taken into the procession, and followed it meekly to the house; the Zouaves insisting on being escort, much to the terror of the young ladies; who were in constant apprehension that the rear rank and the horses might come to kicks—not to say blows—and the embarrassment of the coachman; who, as they were constantly stopping unexpectedly to turn round and talk, didn't know "where to have them," as the saying is. However, they reached their destination in safety before long, and found Mr. Schermerhorn seated on the piazza. He hastened forward to meet them, with the cordial greeting of an old friend.

"Well, old bachelor," said Miss Carlton, gayly, as the young ladies ascended the steps, "you see we have come to visit you in state, with the military escort befitting patriotic young ladies who have four brothers on the Potomac. What has become of Madame, please?"

"Gone to Niagara and left me a 'lone lorn creetur;'" said Mr. Schermerhorn, laughing. "Basely deserted me when my farming couldn't be left. But how am I to account for the presence of the military, mademoiselle?"

"Really, I beg their pardons," exclaimed Miss Carlton. "They have come on a special deputation to you, Mr. Schermerhorn, so pray don't let us interrupt business."

Thus apostrophised, the boys scampered eagerly up the steps; and Freddy, a little bashful, but looking as bright as a button, delivered the following brief oration: "Mr. Schermerhorn: I want—that is, the boys want—I mean we all want—to have a grand review on Saturday, and ask our friends to look on. Will you let us do it, please?"

"Certainly, with the greatest pleasure!" replied Mr. Schermerhorn, smiling; "but what will become of you good people when I tell you that I have just received a letter from Mrs. Schermerhorn, asking me to join her this week instead of next, and bring Peter with me."

"Oh! father, please let me stay!" interrupted Peter; "can't you tell ma I've joined the army for the war? We all want to stay like everything!"

"And forage for yourselves?" said his father, laughing. "No, the army must give you up, and lose a valuable member, Master Peter; but just have the goodness to listen a moment. The review shall take place, but as the camp will have to break up on Saturday instead of Monday, as I had intended, the performances must come off to-morrow. Does that suit your ideas?"

The boys gave a delighted consent to this arrangement, and now the only thing which dampened their enjoyment was the prospect of such a speedy end being put to their camp life. "Confound it! what was the fun for a fellow to be poked into a stupid watering place, where he must bother to keep his hair parted down the middle, and a clean collar stiff enough to choke him on from morning till night?" as Tom indignantly remarked to George and Will the same evening. "The fact is, this sort of thing is the thing for a man after all!" an opinion in which the other men fully concurred.

But let us return to the piazza, where we have left the party. After a few moments more spent in chatting with Mr. Schermerhorn, it was decided to accept Colonel Freddy's polite invitation, which he gave with such a bright little bow, to inspect the camp. You may be sure it was in apple-pie order, for Jerry, who had taken the Zouaves under his special charge, insisted on their keeping it in such a state of neatness as only a soldier ever achieved. The party made an extremely picturesque group—the gay uniforms of the Zouaves, and light summer dresses of the ladies, charmingly relieved against the background of trees; while Mr. Schermerhorn's stately six feet, and somewhat portly proportions, quite reminded one of General Scott; especially among such a small army; in which George alone quite came up to the regulation "63 inches."

Little Jessie ran hither and thither, surrounded by a crowd of adorers, who would have given their brightest buttons, every "man" of them, to be the most entertaining fellow of the corps. They showed her the battery and the stacks of shining guns—made to stand up by Jerry in a wonderful fashion that the boys never could hope to attain—the inside of all the tents, and the smoke guard house (Tom couldn't help a blush as he looked in); and finally, as a parting compliment (which, let me tell you, is the greatest, in a boy's estimation, that can possibly be paid), Freddy made her a present of his very largest and most gorgeous "glass agates;" one of which was all the colors of the rainbow, and the other patriotically adorned with the Stars and Stripes in enamel. Peter climbed to the top of the tallest cherry tree, and brought her down a bough at least a yard and a half long, crammed with "ox hearts;" Harry eagerly offered to make any number of "stunning baskets" out of the stones, and in short there never was such a belle seen before.

"Oh, a'int she jolly!" was the ruling opinion among the Zouaves. A private remark was also circulated to the effect that "Miss Jessie was stunningly pretty."

The young ladies at last said good-by to the camp; promising faithfully to send all the visitors they could to the grand review, and drove off highly entertained with their visit. Mr. Schermerhorn decided to take the afternoon boat for the city and return early Friday morning, and the boys, left to themselves, began to think of dinner, as it was two o'clock. A brisk discussion was kept up all dinner time you may be sure, concerning the event to come off on the morrow.

"I should like to know, for my part, what we do in a review," said Jimmy, balancing his fork artistically on the end of his finger, and looking solemnly round the table.

"Why, show off everything we know!" said Charley Spicer. "March about, and form into ranks and columns, and all that first, then do charming "parade rest," "'der humps!" and the rest of it; and finish off by firing off our guns, and showing how we can't hit anything by any possibility!"

"But these guns won't fire off!" objected Jimmy.

"Well, the cannon then!"

"But I'm sure father won't let us have any powder," said Peter disconsolately. "You can't think how I burnt the end of my nose last Fourth with powder! It was so sore I couldn't blow it for a week!"

The boys all burst out laughing at this dreadful disaster, and George said, "You weren't lighting it with the end of your nose, were you?"

"No; but I was stooping over, charging one of my cannon, and I dropped the 'punk' right in the muzzle somehow, and, would you believe it, the nasty thing went off and burnt my nose! and father said I shouldn't play with powder any more, because I might have put out my eyes."

"Well, we must take it out in marching, then," said Freddy, with a tremendous sigh.

"No, hold on; I'll tell you what we can do!" cried Tom, eagerly. "I have some 'double headers' left from the Fourth; we might fire them out of the cannon; they make noise enough, I'm sure. I'll write to my mother this afternoon and get them."

The boys couldn't help being struck with the generosity of this offer, coming from Tom after their late rather unkind treatment of him; and the older ones especially were very particular to thank him for his present. As soon as dinner was over, he started for the house to ask Mr. Schermerhorn to carry his message. As he hurried along the road, his bright black eyes sparkling with the happiness of doing a good action, he heard trotting steps behind him, felt an arm stealing round his neck, schoolboy fashion, and there was Freddy.

"I ran after you all the way," he pantingly said. "I want to tell you, dear Tom, how much we are obliged to you for giving us your crackers, and how sorry we are that we acted so rudely to you the other day. Please forgive us; we all like you so much, and we would feel as mean as anything to take your present without begging pardon. George, Peter, and I feel truly ashamed of ourselves every time we think of that abominable court martial."

"There, old fellow, don't say a word more about it!" was the hearty response; and Tom threw his arm affectionately about his companion. "It was my fault, Freddy, and all because I was mad at poor old Jerry; how silly! I was sorry for what I said right afterward."

"Then we are friends again?" cried Freddy, joyfully.

"Yes; I'll like you as long as I live! and ever so much longer." And so we will leave the two on their walk to the house, and close this abominably long chapter.

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