Rodney The Partisan Page 3

  CHAPTER III.

  DRILL AND PARADES.

  When the Rangers had broken ranks, which they did without orders as soonas the fourth corporal had been elected, the captain and his lieutenantssuddenly thought of something and posted off to find Rodney Gray.

  "Look here," said the former, somewhat nervously. "What's the next thingon the programme?"

  "Drill, guard-mount and all that sort of thing; but principally drill,"answered Rodney. "If I were in your place I would send for a copy of thearmy regulations without loss of time."

  "Where'll I get them?"

  "Write to the commanding officer at New Orleans, and the minute they gethere, turn this camp into a camp of instruction with writtenregulations, so that every member of the company may know what isrequired of him--_reveille_ at five A.M., breakfast at six, sick-call atseven, inspection of company parade grounds at eight, squad drill athalf past, and--"

  "Hold on," exclaimed Lieutenant Percy. "You will have to put that inwriting. I never could remember it in the world."

  "You'll have to, and a good deal more like it," replied the Barringtonboy. "It's nothing to what I had to keep constantly in mind while I wasat school. I had to walk a chalk-mark, I tell you, or I'd have lost my_chevrons._"

  "I suppose the hardest part of the work will be training our horses,"observed Lieutenant Odell. "Mine is pretty wild."

  "No matter for that if he is only intelligent. He'll learn the drill inless time than you will, I'll bet you. But we'll not need our horses fora month to come."

  "What's the reason we won't? We're cavalry."

  "I know it; but how are you going to teach your horses the movementsunless you know them yourselves? Suppose we were in line in two ranksand the command was given "Without doubling, right face." The horsesdon't know where to go but their riders must, in order to rein theanimals in their places. See? Oh, there's more work than fun insoldiering."

  "Well now, look here," said the captain again. "I don't want to take theboys away from home and shut them up here for nothing, and yet I don'twant to waste any valuable time, for we may be called upon before weknow it. Will you drill a volunteer squad here every forenoon?"

  "I will, and be glad to do it. I hope they will turn out strong, for youwill find that the workers are the men that make the soldiers. I am gladwe've got a drum and fife. You don't know how hard it would be for me todrill a large squad without some kind of music to help them keep step."

  And so it was settled that Camp Randolph (it had been named after Tom'sfather when the Confederate flag was first run up to the masthead, andsorry enough the Rangers were for it now), was to become a camp ofinstruction, and that Sergeant Gray was to drill a volunteer squad everypleasant forenoon, and spend two hours every afternoon in teaching thecompany officers their duties.

  The young soldier had undertaken a big contract, but he went about it asthough he meant business, and in less than a week succeeded inconvincing some of the members of his company that he was just a trifletoo particular to be of any use. The strict discipline in vogue atBarrington was promptly introduced at Camp Randolph, and not theslightest departure from the tactics was tolerated for an instant. Itmade the spectators smile to see full-grown men ordered about by thisimperious youngster who was not yet seventeen years of age, and thesight aroused the ire of Tom Randolph, who now and then rode out to thecamp to watch the drill and criticise the drill-master. He wanted tolearn something too, for Tom had an idea that he might one day have acompany of his own. His father suggested it to him, and Tom lost no timein talking it up among his friends. To his great disgust Tom had learnedthat some of these friends were getting "shaky." As time wore on and theRangers began to show proficiency under the severe drilling to whichthey were daily subjected, these friends began to think and say thatthey were afraid they had been a little too hasty in withdrawing fromthe company just because Tom Randolph could not get the office hewanted, and the first mounted drill that was held confirmed them in theopinion. Due notice had been given of the drill, and the whole town andall the planters for miles around, turned out to see it. Of course thehorses were green but their riders understood their business as well ascould be expected, and the spectators, one and all, declared that it wasa very creditable showing.

  We do not, of course, mean to say that Randolph and his father andmother and a few other dissatisfied ones were pleased with the drill.They were rather disappointed to find that the Rangers could do so wellwithout the aid of the twelve deserters. They came to witness it becausetheir neighbors came, one of them, at least, being animated by the hopethat the spirited horses would become so restive when they heard therattle of the drum and the shrill scream of the fife, that their riderscould not keep them in line. It was a matter of difficulty, that's afact; but the Rangers were all good riders, and if Randolph hoped to seeany of them thrown from his saddle, his amiable wish was not gratified.Another thing that disgusted Tom was the fact that Sergeant Graycommanded the drill, the commissioned officers riding in the ranks likeso many privates. The file-closers, of course, occupied their properplaces.

  "If I could afford to buy a horse I would join the company within anhour, if they would take me," said one of the eleven who had seen fit towithdraw from the Rangers when Tom did. "I cut off my nose to spite myface, and so did all of us who got our backs up because we couldn't havethings our own way. But I don't suppose they would take us back now."

  "Would you be willing to have such a fellow as Rodney Gray order youaround as he does the rest of them!" demanded Tom.

  "Why, I don't see what's the matter with Rodney Gray. I never heard thefirst word said against him until you took it into your head that he wasgoing to run against you for second lieutenant. Yes; I'd let him oranybody else boss me around if he would only teach me how to drill. He'sa nobby soldier, aint he?"

  "Nobby nothing," snarled Randolph. "I'll bet you our company will drilljust as well as they do."

  "Our company?"

  "Yes. You don't imagine that the Rangers are the only ones who will gointo the service from this place, do you? It would not be policy for theState to send all her best men into the Confederate army," said Tom,quoting from his father; for although he had been a voter for more thanthree years he seldom read the papers, and depended upon others to keephim posted in the events of the day. "Some of us can't go. Father saysthe Yankees will fight if they are crowded too hard, and if they shouldhappen to come down the river from Cairo, or up the river from NewOrleans, wouldn't the capital of our State be in a pretty fix if therewere no troops here to defend it?"

  "Aw! they aint a-going to come up or down," exclaimed the other, who wastoo good a rebel to believe that Union troops could by any possibilitygain a foothold in the seceded States. 'The fighting must all be done onNorthern soil.' That's what our President said, and I reckon he knowswhat he was talking about."

  "Perhaps he don't. Fortune of war, you know," said Randolph, who, eversince his father suggested the idea, had kept telling himself thatnothing would suit him better than to be captain of a company of finelyuniformed and mounted State Guards. "At any rate we are going to preparefor what may happen. We are going to get up a company, and my fatherwill equip every one who joins it. If he has a family, my father willsupport them if we have to leave the neighborhood and go to some otherpart of the State. What do you say? Shall I put your name down?"

  Tom's friend did not give a direct reply to this question. He evaded it;but when he had drawn away from Tom's side and reached another part ofthe grounds (the mounted drill was still going on), he said to himself:

  "No, you need not put my name down. I'm going to be a regular soldierand not a Home Guard. There must be some patriotic rich man in thiscountry who will do for me what Mr. Randolph promised to do, and I'mgoing to see if I can find him. By gracious? I believe I'll try Mr.Gray. They say he hasn't done much of anything for the company, butperhaps he will if he's asked."

  No; Mr. Gray ha
d not been buying votes for his son, for he did notbelieve in doing business that way. According to his ideas of right andwrong the company officers ought to go to those who were best qualifiedto fill them; and he didn't want Rodney to have any position unless theRangers thought him worthy of it. But he was prompt to respond to allappeals for aid, and so it came about that in less than a week TomRandolph's friends had all been received back into the company, and itwas reported that six of them were to be mounted and armed at Mr. Gray'sexpense.

  "That's to pay 'em for voting Rodney in for first duty sergeant,"snapped Tom, when he heard the news. "I'd go without office before Iwould have my father do things in that barefaced way. And as for thosewho are willing to accept pay for their votes, they ought to be heartilyashamed of themselves."

  "Never mind," said Mr. Randolph, soothingly. "There is no need that ayoung man in your circumstances should go into the army as private, andI don't mean that you shall do it. I'll make it my business to call onthe governor and see if he can't find a berth for you."

  "But remember that it must be a military appointment," said Tom. "Noclerkship or anything of that sort for me."

  While the Rangers were working hard to get themselves in shape for thefield, Captain Hubbard and his lieutenants had received theircommissions and been duly sworn into the State militia. Nothing wassaid, however, about swearing in the company, and when Captain Hubbardcalled the governor's attention to the omission the latter replied:

  "General Lacey is the man to look after such matters as that. He's inNew Orleans and you may be ordered to report to him there."

  "How about our uniforms?" asked the captain.

  "Do as you please about uniforms so long as you conform to the armyregulations. Of course your arms and equipments will be furnished you,and the government will allow you sixty cents a day for the use of yourhorses."

  The most of the Rangers thought this was all right, and Captain Hubbardat once called a business meeting of the company to decide upon theuniform they would wear when they went to New Orleans to be sworn in;but there was one among them who did not take much interest in theproceedings. He did not say a great deal during the meeting, but when hewent home that night he remarked to his father:

  "This partisan business is a humbug so far as this State is concerned."

  "What makes you say that?" inquired Mr. Gray.

  "Just this," answered Rodney. "Why didn't the governor swear us inhimself instead of telling us that we must wait for General Lacey to doit? The General is a Confederate, not a State officer, and when hemusters us in it will be into the Confederate service."

  This was not a pleasing prospect for the restless, ambitious youngfellow, who had confidently looked for something better, but he had gonetoo far to back out. He had told his comrades that he intended to sharethen fortunes, whatever they might be, and this was the time to makegood his words. If he had worked his men hard before, he worked themharder now, devoting extra time and attention to the officers in orderto get them in shape to command the grand drill and dress parade thatwas to come off as soon as their uniforms arrived.

  In the meantime outside events were not overlooked. Everything pointedto war, and news from all parts of the Confederacy bore evidence to thefact that the seceded States were preparing for it, while the people ofthe North stood with their hands in their pockets and looked on. Finallythe long-delayed explosion came, and the country was in an uproar fromone end to the other. Fort Sumter was fired upon and compelled tosurrender--fifty-one men against five thousand--and the Rangers shookhands and patted one another on the back and declared that that was theway they would serve the Yankees every time they met them. Then camePresident Lincoln's War Proclamation, followed by the accession of fourStates to the Confederacy, the blockade of the Southern sea-ports andPresident Davis's offer to issue letters of marque and reprisal. Allthis while the mails were regularly received, and Rodney Gray heard fromevery one of the Barrington boys who had promised to enlist withintwenty-four hours after they reached home. They had all kept thatpromise except Dixon, the tall Kentuckian, and he was getting ready asfast as he could.

  "I have been between a hoot and a whistle ever since I have been home,"was what he wrote to Rodney Gray. "The State was divided against itself,and I couldn't tell until the 15th, (April) which way she was going; butnow I know. When the Yankee President called for those seventy-fivethousand volunteers our Governor replied: 'I say emphatically thatKentucky will furnish no troops for the wicked purpose of subjugatingher sister Southern States. As Dick Graham used to say, 'That's me.' Igo with the government of my State. Now, then, what have you done? Ishall write the rest of the fellows to-day."

  Billings, the South Carolina boy, reached home too late to take part inthe bombardment of Fort Sumter. and he told Rodney that he was verysorry for it. Every one of the gallant five thousand who had fought forthirty-four hours to compel a handful of tired and hungry men to hauldown their flag was looked upon as a hero, and Billings said he mighthave been a hero too, if he had only had sense enough to leave school amonth earlier. But he was all right now. He was a Confederate soldierand ready to do and dare with the best of them.

  Dick Graham, whose home you will remember was in Missouri, wrote in muchthe same strain that Dixon did. His State was in such a turmoil andseemed to be so evenly divided between Union and disunion, that Dickcould not tell which way she was going until he saw Governor Jackson'sanswer to Lincoln's call for volunteers. "There can be, I apprehend, nodoubt that these men are intended to make war upon the seceded States,"said the Governor. "Your requisition, in my judgment, is illegal,unconstitutional and revolutionary in its objects, inhuman anddiabolical and cannot be complied with. Not one man will the State ofMissouri furnish to carry on such an unholy crusade."

  "When I read those burning words," Dick wrote, with enthusiasm, "my mindwas made up and I knew where I stood. I expected some such move on theGovernors part, for when he came into office in January, he declaredthat Missouri must stand by the other slave States whatever course theymight pursue. I kept my promise and enlisted in a company of partisansraised under the terms of the Military Bill, which makes everyable-bodied man in the State subject to military duty. Price is ourimmediate commander, but we were required to take the oath to obey theGovernor alone."

  "There, now," exclaimed Rodney, when he read this. "What's the reasonour Governor can't swear the Rangers in as well as the Governor ofMissouri can swear his troops in? I believe he could if there wasn'tsomething back of it."

  "What do you think there is back of it?" inquired his father.

  "I can't imagine, unless there is some sort of an arrangement existingbetween him and the Confederate authorities at New Orleans," repliedRodney. "The Governor lets on that he is strongly in favor ofindependent organizations, but he don't act as if he was."

  Rodney showed Dick's letter to Captain Hubbard, who posted off to BatonRouge with, it; but he got no satisfaction there. There had been no suchMilitary Bill passed in Louisiana, the Governor said, and there was noneed of it, the situation there and in Missouri was so different. Thelatter State was exposed to "invasion" (by which he meant that CaptainLyon's small company of regulars was likely to be reinforced), butLouisiana was so protected on all sides that Lincoln's hirelings couldnot get at her if they tried.

  "Then he wouldn't assume control of the company?" said Rodney.

  "No, he wouldn't. I had a personal interview with him at his own houseand did some of my best talking; but it was no use. He wasnon-committal--that was the worst of it, and I--Say," added the captain,in an undertone, "I have sorter suspected that he meant to turn us overto the Confederacy."

  "That's what I have thought for a good while," said Rodney.

  "Yes," continued the captain. "So I thought I might as well give him tounderstand that we were not going to allow ourselves to be turned overas long as we remained free men. I showed him your friend's letter, andhinted pretty strongly that if we could not swear obedience to theGovernor of
our own State, the Governor of another State might bewilling to accept us, and you ought to have seen him open his eyes."

  "What did he say?"

  "He said he hoped that I wouldn't think of doing such a thing as that,but if I did, he would have to revoke my commission."

  "Who cares if he does?" exclaimed Rodney. "Let him revoke it if he wantsto, and you can get another from Governor Jackson."

  "That's what I thought. Now, I'll tell you what we'll do--at least we'llhold a secret meeting after drill and propose it to the boys. Supposeyou telegraph to your chum's father--you know where to find him and youdon't know where to find Dick Graham and ask him if General Price willaccept our services, leaving us our independent organization, providedwe will take the oath to obey the Governor of Missouri."

  "I'll do it," answered Rodney. "And if you will postpone the drill forhalf an hour I will ride into town and attend to it at once. It's theonly thing we can do and keep out of the Confederate army. Dog-gone theConfederacy. The State is the one I want to serve."

  Rodney rode into Mooreville at a gallop, wrote out the dispatch andstood at the desk while Drummond, the operator, sent it off. Althoughthe latter looked surprised he did not say anything; but while Rodneywas on his way back to camp, a copy of his dispatch was on its way toBaton Rouge.

  In accordance with Captain Hubbard's programme a secret meeting of thecompany was held after the drill was over, but it turned out that themembers were not so strongly in favor of the captain's plan as he andRodney thought they were going to be. While the Rangers fully determinedto preserve their independent organization, they were not willing togive their services to the governor of another State. There was adead-lock developed at once; and it was finally decided that the bestthing they could do would be to adjourn until Rodney had received areply to his dispatch. Perhaps General Price would not take them, andthat would end the matter. If he would, why then, they could callanother meeting and decide what they would do about it.

  The next day their uniforms came up from New Orleans, and on theafternoon of the day following there was a grand drill and dress paradecommanded by Captain Hubbard in person. The spectators, if we except theRandolph family, were delighted with it, and Rodney told his fatherprivately that he had seen many a worse one at the Barrington Academy.Rodney didn't want to say so out loud, of course, for he was thedrill-master; but it was not long before he discovered that the Rangersknew whom to thank for their proficiency, and that they fullyappreciated the patient and untiring efforts he had made to bring theminto military form. When the ranks had been broken after dress parade,and the Rangers and their invited guests thronged into the grove behindthe tents to make an assault upon the well-loaded tables they foundthere, the deputy sheriff, the man with the stentorian voice, who was aprivate in the company, sprang upon the band-stand, commanded attention,and afterward shouted for Sergeant Rodney Gray to come forward. As theboy wonderingly obeyed, the Rangers and their guests closed about thestand and hemmed it in on all sides. Captain Hubbard had taken up aposition there, and when Rodney halted in front of him and took off hiscap, the latter began a speech, thanking the young sergeant for what hehad done for the company, and begging him to accept a small token oftheir respect and esteem.

  "Take it, friend Rodney," said the captain, in conclusion. "Keep it toremind you of the pure gold of our friendship which shall never knowalloy. And while we sincerely trust that it may never be drawn exceptupon peaceful occasions of ceremony, we are sure you will not permit itto remain idle in its scabbard while the flag of our Young Republic isin danger, or your good right arm retains the power to wield it."

  The captain stepped back, and the thoroughly astonished Rodney stoodholding in his hands an elegant cavalry sabre. He stared hard at it, andthen he looked at the expectant crowd around the band-stand.

  "Speech, speech!" yelled the Rangers.

  But the usually self-possessed Barrington boy was past speech-makingnow. He managed to mumble a few words of thanks, got to the groundsomehow and mingled with the crowd as quickly as possible.

  "How very surprised he is," sneered Tom Randolph, who told himselfregretfully that a sword like that might have been presented to him ifhe had only remained with the company. "I will bet my horse against histhat he knew a week ago that he was going to get it."

  Rodney waited four days before he received a reply to the dispatch hesent to Dick Graham's father, and seeing that the authorities hadassumed control of the wires, and the operator at Mooreville was agovernment spy, it was rather singular that he got it at all. It ran asfollows:

  "Price will accept. Company officers and independent organization toremain the same."

  "I tell you Missouri is the best State yet," said Rodney, handing thetelegram over to Captain Hubbard. "This brings the matter squarely hometo the boys, and they've got to decide upon something this very night."

  And they did, but it was only after a stormy and even heated discussion.The captain and Rodney carried their point but it was by a very smallmajority of votes; and the former, believing it advisable to strikewhile the iron was hot, took one of his lieutenants and started for NewOrleans to engage passage for his company to Little Rock. It was at thisjuncture that Rodney wrote that letter to his cousin Marcy Gray, aportion of which we gave to the reader in the first volume of thisseries. You will remember that he spoke with enthusiasm of the "high oldtimes" he expected to have "running the Yankees out of Missouri." Well,he had all the opportunities he wanted, but they were not brought aboutjust as he thought they were going to be.

  The captain and his lieutenant were gone two days, and came back toreport that the steamers were all so busy with government business thatit would be a week or more before they could get transportation; but thecaptain had left instructions with his cotton-factor who would keep hiseyes open, and telegraph him when to expect a boat at Baton Rougelanding. In the meantime the harder they worked the less they would haveto learn when they reached the Army of the West. That very afternoonthey had a great surprise. The Rangers were going through a mounteddrill, acquitting themselves very creditably they thought, when some onein the ranks became aware that they had a distinguished visitor in theperson of the Governor of the State, who sat in a carriage looking on.Beside him was a little, dried-up, cross-looking man in fatigue cap andsoiled linen duster, who kept making loud and unfavorable comments uponthe drill, although he did not look as though he knew anything about it.As soon as Captain Hubbard learned that the Governor was among thespectators, he brought the Rangers into line and rode up to the carriageand saluted.

  "Well, captain," said the Governor, nodding in response to the salute."I am glad to see that you are hard at work and that your men arerapidly improving. Have you a copy of your muster-roll handy?"

  The captain replied that he had and the Governor continued--

  "Then be good enough to produce it and hand it to this officer who willmuster you in. I am not going to let such a body of men as you are goout of the State if I can help it."

  "Shall I dismount the men, sir?" asked the captain, addressing thecross-looking little man, who arose to his feet and shook himselftogether as if he were getting ready for business.

  "No," was the surly reply. "We'll drive up in front of the company and Ican call the roll while standing in the carriage. It'll not take tenminutes and then you can go on with your drill. I see you need it badenough."

  Captain Hubbard, who was so angry that he forgot to salute, wheeled hishorse and rode back to the company.

  "Orderly," said he, in an undertone. "Get a copy of your muster-roll andgive it to that old curmudgeon in the carriage. He's going to try tomuster us in but I doubt if he knows enough. I am glad to see him,however, for when he gets through with us, we shall know right where westand."